Physics: From Amateurs to Crackpots

Physics presents to us a towering intellectual edifice of knowledge and insight, an immensely deep and powerful way of looking at the world. It may not come as a surprise that human reactions to the structure, organization, nature, demands and implications of this eminent system of thought may sometimes be somewhat off-kilter. As a practitioner of physics, I find these reactions interesting and sometimes revealing of the way non-physicists regards physics.

I will consider three categories below:

1. Students: There is a category of undergraduate majors which is attracted to physics by the intrinsic power of its scope (e.g. the ultimate nature of reality, the structure of space and time, the existence of causality), by the magnetic pull of its master exponents (e.g. Newton, Einstein, Feynman to mention the popular ones), and by the desire to obtain some reflected glory by association with the subject (e.g. look cool/smart next to other majors).

   
   

   I don't think there is anything wrong with having any of these motivations. They are human and in the great majority of cases, lead to some - if not a lot of - good. The problem arises when this mixture leaves no space in the student's brain for acquiring the skills and down-to-earth approach that physics demands before it allows anyone to achieve proficiency in the subject.

   
   

   This type of student is often unable or unwilling to cope with the analytical, mathematical and experimental requirements that need to be fulfilled before one can use physics as a method for querying the world. They can be heard talking (using jargon they have heard but not understood) about exalted concepts (free will, time travel, the fate of the universe, the multiverse, entanglement) in a way that does not connect tangibly with any known physics theory or observation. They can be seen, even when their awareness about the difference between a scalar and vector is rather shaky, carrying around thick volumes on string theory. They are particularly hard to dissuade from their way of thinking, especially if their demand is that you assign them a senior project which will impact scientists worldwide. One is reminded here of the perhaps uncharitable definition of a mystic: a person who wants to know the secrets of the universe, but is unwilling to learn mathematics.

   
   

   Eventually, these students get weeded out of the program by some filtering mechanism (like a qualifying exam) or leave with a degree that has little to do with their career that follows. I am not saying that these students are not intelligent; just that their skill set might be one that is different from that required for learning physics and in fact better suited for some other discipline. (In this respect I am reminded of Max Planck, who reportedly moved to physics because he found economics too difficult; in my own case it was biology that was too hard).

   
   

2. Amateurs: This is a class of people who have never majored in physics (or in any STEM discipline) in university. Yet, they have a fascination for physics and, especially when they meet a professional physicist, try to carry on a conversation with them on equal terms about the subject.

   
   

   This quickly dwindles into a meaningless exchange, since technical terms and concepts in physics have rather precise and subtle meanings and interrelationships (this would be like me trying to parley on equal medical terms with my doctor, whose knowledge of the structure, function, care and cure of body parts clearly eclipses mine by several orders of magnitude). Although I find myself cringing a bit in the presence of conversations which involve such amateurs (some of them are hosts of podcasts) I must confess that I admire their confidence in running full steam ahead with their views.

   
   

   Again, I am not anti (in fact I am rather pro) science popularization. Neither do I think that physicists should go unchallenged, even in nonprofessional settings, regarding their claims. But I think everybody needs to recognize the limitations of their knowledge - only when we are aware of our own ignorance does the process of learning become meaningful.

   
   

3. Crackpots: Finally, we come to this delightful category, which consists of people who do seem to have some technical proficiency in the subject, though they almost always use it in inappropriate ways. Physics attracts more crackpots than any other discipline, possibly due to the grandeur of its aims (e.g. a theory of everything).

   
   

   A scientific crackpot is an individual who puts forward flawed, non-mainstream, or pseudoscientific theories. These proposals contradict established evidence, do not fulfill the requirements of mathematical consistency, and generally fold under peer review. Popular examples are proofs that Einstein's theories were wrong, the construction of perpetual motion machines, flat earth theories, etc.

   
   

   I receive an email from some crackpot at least twice a week (the public nature of physics faculty addresses makes this easy). If they are part of a mass email campaign, I delete them without replying. If they are addressed to me by name, I beg off saying I have no time to pursue the topic (which is true; I have enough crazy ideas of my own). I have never tried David Mermin's strategy of referring one crackpot to another, and absenting oneself in the process.

   
   

   However, not everybody ignores crackpots. Some conferences have dedicated 'crackpot sessions' (every member of the society has a right to present, and almost anyone can become a member if they pay). These are often attended even better than the regular sessions, as they are quite entertaining. I remember, in the age of computers, once, someone explaining to me the possibility of time travel using just a ruler and compasses.