Quantum Mechanics and the Rhetoric of Infallibility

[Jzz]

Quantum Mechanics arose in the 20th century — an era when science became deeply entangled with politics, ideology, and institutional power. The Manhattan Project, Cold War rivalries, and the advent of Big Science transformed physics from a pursuit of natural understanding into a battlefield of prestige and funding. In this environment, theories were not judged solely on internal coherence or physical insight, but also on their capacity to attract resources, dominate narratives, and reinforce consensus.

This shift gave rise to a new kind of rhetoric. Phrases such as:

• “The most successful theory in scientific history,”
• “Quantum mechanics has never been wrong,”
• “Unprecedented agreement with experiment,”

…became not merely summaries of empirical adequacy, but rhetorical shields. They served to deflect criticism, discourage dissent, and elevate quantum mechanics above reproach — regardless of its unresolved conceptual foundations.
One must ask: Why does quantum mechanics continually reaffirm its own mythology?
The answer, perhaps uncomfortably, is that it does so because it must. Quantum mechanics is celebrated for its predictive power — yet it remains conceptually opaque. Its most popular interpretation, the Copenhagen model, refuses to describe reality. It evades basic questions such as:

• What is a particle?
• What constitutes a measurement?
• Where is the boundary between quantum and classical?

Instead of answers, it offers slogans: “Shut up and calculate.”
But that is not science. That is capitulation to mystery.
This vacuum of explanation has been filled, not by better theories, but by a kind of defensive triumphalism. The self-congratulatory tone — “enormously successful” — masks the deeper anxiety that the theory may have reached an interpretive dead-end.
When quantum theorists boast of success, what they usually mean is:

• It predicts experimental results to several decimal places.
• It underpins modern technology: lasers, transistors, MRIs.

All true. But predictive accuracy is not the same as physical understanding. By that standard, the Ptolemaic system — with its epicycles and deferents — was also “enormously successful.” It predicted eclipses, planetary positions, and seasonal changes. It was also fundamentally wrong.
Real success in science should not rest solely on numerical precision. It must also offer clarity, causality, and a coherent picture of the physical world.
To those raised in the tradition of classical physics — where logic, humility, and empirical realism prevailed — the language surrounding quantum mechanics often feels jarring. In the time of Newton, Kepler, Faraday, and Maxwell, science did not need to declare its greatness; its clarity and coherence spoke for themselves. Self-praise would have been met with embarrassment, or worse, laughter.
Today, however, the rhetorical posture of quantum theory verges on triumphalist propaganda. This is not merely stylistically off-putting — it has epistemological consequences. It fosters an environment where questioning foundational issues is treated as heresy. One is told, not why the wavefunction is physically meaningful, but that “the theory works,” and therefore must not be challenged.

Is this attitude defensible? If one dares to question, for example, whether an electron in a bound state should truly be described as a probability wave, are they to be silenced with platitudes like:

1. “The most accurate theory in science,”
2. “Quantum mechanics has never failed,”
3. “Everything we know depends on it”?

These phrases, rather than clarifying, intimidate. They function not as arguments but as deterrents — closing the door on inquiry. Yet science is not strengthened by dogma. It thrives on doubt, on challenge, on the audacity to say: maybe this isn’t the final word.
In that spirit, perhaps it is time to re-examine the rhetorical armor of quantum mechanics — not to diminish its achievements, but to restore the virtues of clarity, humility, and intellectual honesty that once defined the scientific enterprise.

 

[billslugg]

If quantum mechanics is wrong, we are doomed. Or at least in superposition with doom, which is just as bad.