
DOES reality exist without us? Albert Einstein appeared to be in no doubt: surely the moon doesnât vanish when we arenât looking, he once asked incredulously. He had been provoked by the proposition, from quantum theory, that things only become real when we observe them. But it is not such a daft idea, and even Einstein kept an open mind. âIt is basic for physics that one assumes a real world existing independently from any act of perception,â he wrote in a 1955 letter. âBut this we do not know.â
In the decades since, physicists have found it maddeningly difficult to write the observer out of quantum theory. Now some are contemplating a mind-boggling alternative: that a coherent description of reality, with all its quantum quirks, can arise from nothing more than random subjective experiences. It looks like the âperspective of a madmanâ, says the author of this bold new theory, because it compels us to abandon any notion of fundamental physical laws. But if it stands up, it would not only resolve some deep puzzles about quantum mechanics, it would turn our deepest preconceptions about reality itself inside out.
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When it comes to forecasting how the world will behave, quantum theory is unsurpassed: its every prediction, no matter how counter-intuitive, is borne out by experiment. Electrons, for instance, can sometimes display behaviour characteristic of waves, even though they seem in other circumstances to behave like particles.
Wave of confusion
Before observation, such quantum objects are said to be in a superposition of all possible observable outcomes. This doesnât mean they exist in many states at once, rather that we can only say that all the allowed outcomes of measurement remain possible. This potential is represented in the quantum wave function, a mathematical expression that encodes all outcomes and their relative probabilities.

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But it isnât at all obvious what, if anything, the wave function can tell you about the nature of a quantum system before we make a measurement. That act reduces all those possible outcomes to one, dubbed the collapse of the wave function â but no one really knows what that means either. Some researchers think it might be a real physical process, like radioactive decay. Those who subscribe to the many-worlds interpretation think it is an illusion conjured by a splitting of the universe into each of the possible outcomes. Others still say that there is no point in trying to explain it â and besides, who cares? The maths works, so just shut up and calculate.
Whatever the case, wave function collapse seems to hinge on intervention or observation, throwing up some huge problems, not least about the role of consciousness in the whole process. This is the measurement problem, arguably the biggest headache in quantum theory. âIt is very hard,â says , a philosopher at Chapman University in California. âMore interpretations are being thrown up every day, but all of them have problems.â
The most popular is known as the Copenhagen interpretation after the home city of one of quantum theoryâs pioneers, Niels Bohr. He argued that quantum mechanics tells us only what we should expect when we make a measurement, not what causes that outcome. The theory canât tell us what a quantum system is like before we observe it; all we can ever ask of it is the probabilities of different possible outcomes.
Such a perspective seems to back you into an uncomfortable conclusion: that the very act of our observation calls the outcome into being. Can that be true? It seems the antithesis of what science normally assumes, as Einstein intimated. Yet the idea has some pedigree. Hungarian physicist John von Neumann was the first to entertain it in the early 1930s, and his compatriot Eugene Wigner went deepest with a thought experiment in the 1950s now known as Wignerâs friend.
âWhat if reality canât be described without invoking our active involvement?â
Suppose that Wigner is standing outside a windowless room where his friend is about to make some measurement on a particle. Once thatâs done, she knows what the observed property of the particle is, but Wigner doesnât. He canât meaningfully say that the particleâs wave function has collapsed until his friend tells him the result. Worse still, until she does, quantum theory offers no way for Wigner to think about all the unseen events inside the lab as having fixed outcomes. His friend, her measuring apparatus and the particle remain one big composite superposition.
It is as if we live in a solipsistic world where collapse only occurs when knowledge of the result impinges on a conscious mind. âIt follows that the quantum description of objects is influenced by impressions entering my consciousness,â Wigner wrote. âSolipsism may be logically consistent with present quantum mechanics.â

John Wheeler at Princeton University put it differently: itâs not solipsism but a kind of interactive collaboration that brings things into being. We live, Wheeler said, in a âparticipatory universeâ â one that canât be meaningfully described without invoking our active involvement. âNothing is more astonishing about quantum mechanics,â he wrote, âthan its allowing one to consider seriously⊠that the universe would be nothing without observership.â
But Wheeler could not escape the thicket of irresolvable questions that the participatory universe raises. For one, Wigner and his friend seem locked in an infinite regress. Is Wigner himself in a superposition of states until he passes on the result to his other friends in the next building? Which observer âdecidesâ when wave function collapse occurs? And what constitutes a conscious observation anyway?
Despite the persistence of such questions, some theorists have recently returned to a form of Wheelerâs vision, what Chris Fuchs at the University of Massachusetts in Boston has called âparticipatory realityâ. That shift is partly for want of a better alternative, but primarily it is because if you take quantum mechanics seriously, some element of observer-dependent subjectivity seems impossible to avoid.
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A couple of years ago, theorist at the University of Vienna revisited the Wignerâs friend scenario in a slightly altered form proposed by David Deutsch at the University of Oxford. Here the friend makes the measurement â she has collapsed the particleâs wave function, producing either outcome A or B â but tells Wigner only that she sees a definite result, not what it is. In Deutschâs scenario, Wigner is forced to conclude that his friend, her measuring apparatus and the particle are in a joint superposition, even though he knows a measurement has happened.
To Wignerâs friend, she is definitely in, say, the state âI see Aâ, but to Wigner she is in a superposition of âI see Aâ and âI see Bâ. So whoâs right? They both are, says Brukner, depending on whose point of view you adopt. He has shown that if quantum mechanics is correct, there is no privileged perspective from which a third observer can reconcile both Wignerâs and his friendâs statements. âThere is no reason to assume that the âfactsâ of one of them are more fundamental than those of the other,â Brukner says â and so we are forced to conclude that âthere are no âfacts of the world per se'â. Rather, there are only facts for each observer.
One interpretation of quantum mechanics takes such a conclusion in its stride. Devised in the 2000s by Fuchs and others, quantum Bayesianism (also known as QBism) is rooted in the view that quantum mechanics supplies only recommendations about what a rational observer should believe he or she will see on making a measurement â and that these beliefs can be updated as the observer takes fresh experiences into account. Thatâs where the âBayesianismâ comes in: it refers to the classical theory of probability, initiated in the 18th century, that assigns probabilities on the basis of what the observer already knows to be the case.
QBism point-blank denies that there is any objective notion of a quantum state at all. This doesnât mean there can be nothing ârealâ beyond personal belief, only that quantum mechanics doesnât speak directly to that issue.
The existence of Bruknerâs âalternative factsâ causes no pain in such a picture, because it has assumed them all along. Nor indeed does wave function collapse, which is then just a way of talking about how measurement updates our knowledge. But few physicists are prepared to accept such stringent limits on their efforts to describe reality, which is why QBism remains a minority sport.
So what now? Enter , the self-described âmadmanâ and a theorist at the University of Vienna. His answer is to take things up a notch. âQBism is not extreme enough,â he says. âIt assumes that there is this one external world out there which is ultimately responsible for our experiences. My approach starts without assuming such a world.â That means imagining that there are no fundamental laws of nature â no general relativity, no Maxwellâs equations or Heisenbergâs uncertainty principle â and asking what the world would then look like. The answer might surprise you.
âItâs deeply odd: you end up with a universe built directly from our experiencesâ
For even if you throw out physics, the logic of mathematics remains â and this is where MĂŒller begins to construct his hypothetical world. Letâs say you have some experience X: you make an observation of the world and see the outcome X. Given that, what are the chances you will then experience another outcome Y? There is a field of maths that deals precisely with such questions. Itâs called algorithmic information theory and it shows how to make predictions based on inductive reasoning with a distinctly Bayesian flavour: given that X happened, there is an equation to figure out the probability that Y will follow.

MĂŒller wanted to see where that reasoning leads in a world with nothing else to shape it. He represented each individualâs experience at every instant as a string of bits of information â 1s and 0s, like binary computer code. Each observerâs history then consisted of a walk through the various possible bit strings, and the probability of going from one to the next would be random but conditional: it must take the history of experiences into account. The idea, says theorist Giulio Chiribella at the University of Hong Kong, âis to think of our experience as a movie made of many frames and to ask the question, given the frames I have seen so far, what frame will I see next?â
You would think that such a picture could hardly be less likely to give rise to what we experience: a universe governed by laws and producing facts that are, as far as we can tell, the same for you as for me. But when MĂŒller used the methods of algorithmic information theory to figure out what sequences of bit strings are likely, he found something remarkable.
As these random experiences stack up, the conditional probability of the next experience, as described by a string of bits, tends to be higher for simpler bit sequences than for complex ones. This makes it look as if there is a fairly simple algorithm generating the bit strings. So the observer deduces a simple âmodelâ of reality, characterised by regular and comprehensible laws that smoothly connect one experience to the next.
This seems deeply odd: how can randomness give rise to this apparently law-bound behaviour? Itâs a little like the way we understand a gas. Although in principle all possible configurations of its molecules are allowed, the probability distribution of particle speeds we see has a simple bell-shaped curve, and the particles are distributed in space with bland uniformity. Out of that come simple laws relating to things we can easily measure: pressure, temperature and volume. Those laws arenât written into the gas particles themselves; they are an emergent property of the probabilities of different configurations.
âThe remarkable thing is that a notion of an objective external world emerges automatically in the long run,â says MĂŒller. Whatâs more, âdifferent observers will tend to agree on properties of that external worldâ. Thatâs because according to algorithmic information theory, the probabilities of bit strings for different observers will tend to converge on the same distribution â so they will agree on what the âlaws of the worldâ are. âOverall, the âmovieâ is likely to be simple and different observers can generally agree on some aspects of the plot,â says Chiribella.
The surprises donât stop there. This emergent reality should have just the qualities we see in quantum physics, where objects can show wave-like properties and behave in ânon-localâ ways, when a measurement on one particle can seem instantaneously to influence the state of another separated in space.
The upshot is that from the most minimal assumptions about the probabilities of what our personal experiences will contain, you can recover a world like the one we know. âThe world could still look something like how we experience it, even though in truth it would be mind-bogglingly different,â says MĂŒller.
Itâs not easy to see how MĂŒllerâs ideas can be tested. But circumstantial evidence that he could be on the right track comes with the way they solve the problem of Boltzmann brains, an almost metaphysical conundrum that suggests we are not the kind of beings we think we are (see âSpontaneous brainsâ).
All the same, this image of the universe built directly from observer experiences is so âout thereâ that other researchers barely know what to make of it. Itâs âa very interesting starting point, which prompts new questionsâ, says Chiribella. Meanwhile, Brukner is keeping an open mind. âMarkusâs conceptual grasp and mathematical background is strong, and enables him to step outside the comfort zone and come up with true conceptual changes and modifications of our theories,â he says.
MĂŒller himself is deeply aware that he has not chosen an easy path, but argues that it is one worth treading. âIt is not as crazy as it first seems,â he says. âBut it will be a major challenge to convince people, since the world view that it suggests is so unusual and different from what we are used to.â
Conscious Collapse?
The idea that consciousness induces wave function collapse, the process by which myriad possible outcomes of a measurement become a single definite one, is not inherently absurd. And yet physicists have long regarded it as a rather louche suggestion, because it seems to substitute one mystery for another: we have no idea how to describe consciousness, so how can we expect to know how it causes collapse?
Kelvin McQueen, a philosopher at Chapman University in California, and at the Australian National University in Canberra have recently started to make the case that we can now make things more precise.
The duo take their cue from integrated information theory, which posits that consciousness arises from interconnectivity in the brain. Its inventor, neuroscientist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, has even proposed a mathematical measure of consciousness, known as Phi, based on how the components of a system share and combine information.
Integrated information theory challenges the view that consciousness is all or nothing. It leaves open the possibility that non-human creatures, and maybe even simpler (for example, artificial) systems, can have some level of consciousness. The idea has yet to be tested and no one has been able to formulate how Phi can be calculated for the human brain. But the prospect led McQueen and Chalmers to suggest a bold way of testing whether consciousness indeed causes wave function collapse.
In principle, McQueen says, you could do an ordinary quantum experiment with a twist: the particles would be themselves imbued with some kind of computing capacity, while still being small enough to show observable quantum behaviour. If such particles had a large enough Phi, they might then automatically induce collapse and could not show the quantum effects, such as wave-like interference, that same-sized but lower-Phi particles would display.
McQueen is under no illusions about how hard it would be to set up such an experiment. âIâm not wedded to the ideaâ, he says, âbut I do want to see it falsified or verified once it becomes clear how to construct the right kind of systems for testing.â
Cosmic Brains
In the late 19th century, Austrian physicist Ludwig Boltzmann described the world as space filled with particles in random motion, adopting all manner of different configurations.
Experiments have long confirmed that our reality matches this vision, but thereâs a problem. If you examine the probabilities of each configuration, it turns out we are much less likely to be sentient beings who evolved on a planet over billions of years than ephemeral lone âbrainsâ, condensed out of chaos by sheer chance and floating freely, complete with imagined memories and experiences. How can we know we arenât these âBoltzmann brainsâ, apt to dissolve back into the fluctuating cosmos at any moment?
Physicists and philosophers have fretted over this for decades. But a radical new perspective can make the problem disappear. If objective reality emerges from the mathematically predictable way our past experiences determine future observations, then sudden discontinuities in experience of the sort Boltzmann brains would encounter will be vanishingly improbable. Experience should be smooth, connected and, at our scale, rather predictable.
Similar arguments make it unlikely that, as some researchers suggest, we are nothing more than âintelligent agentsâ in some super-intelligenceâs cosmic computer simulation. That too would be vulnerable to abrupt events like shutdowns, whereas we have a persistent perception of reality.
This article appeared in print under the headline âReality? Itâs what you make itâ