Just when you think you might have a grip on Schrodinger’s cat, along come qubits. I started hearing about this when a theoretical 7-qubit computer made the news in the spring of 2000. Now teams are experimenting with a 20-qubit computer, and a 49-qubit machine is supposed to be just around the corner. 49 is the magic number that smashes the frontier established by classical computers (“classic” in the sense of classic Rock, i.e., less than 40 years old). A 49-qubit computer will be able to solve mathematical problems far beyond the capacity of the swiftest AI today—specifically, factoring very large numbers. Since most encryptions are based on factors of very large numbers, one practical effect of quantum computing is that no encryption is safe. Yippee!
If I have my facts straight, quantum computing is based on two principles of quantum mechanics: that a subatomic particle can be in two positions at the same time (superposition), and that compatible particles affect each other even if they’re separated by millions of miles (entanglement). Unlike classical computing bits, each of which can have only one value—either 1 or 0—a qubit can hold both 1 and 0, depending on its position and its relationship to other qubits. Thus its capacity in combination is vastly greater and much more versatile than the clunky, value-exclusive bit.
Those are the facts, but what they mean and how they apply is beyond me. Quantum mechanics gave us transistors, semiconductors, and laser technology, leading to personal computing, MRIs, GPSs, and smartphones. Where quantum computing might lead is all the buzz, especially now that Google, IBM, and Microsoft (among others) are sinking tons of money into it. Genetic manipulation is child’s play–why not just rearrange matter to create news substances? Einstein was uneasy at the very thought of separated particles affecting each other—he called it “spooky.” What if fooling around with subatomic consciousness takes us to the point where realities converge and universes overlap?
A culture that accepts “gender fluidity” shouldn’t have any qualms about shifting matter, but I suspect the idea makes most of us a little nervous, like Einstein. It shouldn’t. No advance on the frontiers of science speaks to the reality of God better than the quantum revolution. The basic theory states that two mutually exclusive propositions can be true—the cat is dead and alive, the particle is here and there—until the moment they are observed or measured, at which time they “decohere.” It’s the observer who settles the issue of just where the particles are at any given time.
So, who’s observing the universe? Doesn’t there have to be a conscious intelligence making it what it is? Without intelligence, matter is a fog of particles, neither here nor there, randomly spinning.
Quantum theory is the basis for speculation about parallel universes and alternate realities and other notions that make the head spin. To me, it’s the last nail in the coffin of the rigid materialism that began with the Enlightenment and ended sometime in the mid-20th century. The theory of evolution is in thrall to materialism, but even rock-ribbed evolutionists will, I think, be forced to concede that something moves the earth besides physical mechanics.
What quantum reality resembles, more than anything else, is Spirit. We are told that God, in Christ, upholds the universe by the word of His power (Heb.1:3). Not only did He create, He also maintains. The particles “decohere” when God observes them; the universe is particular and discoverable because all things are under His powerful gaze at all times. If He were look away (literally or figuratively), it would all come apart.
The testimony of nature supports the testimony of scripture, and if you ever wondered about certain gospel paradoxes, the subatomic nature of matter offers a clue: Christ can indeed be all God and all man. Salvation can be a matter of free will and predestination. The Trinity can be the ultimate reality, and yet beyond our comprehension. Faith and doubt can coexist.
It all depends on the Observer.