Bill Bryson - A short history of nearly everything

For most of us it is a world that surpasses understanding. To read even an elementary guide to particle physics nowadays you must now find your way through lexical thickets such as this: “The charged pion and antipion decay respectively into a muon plus antineutrino and an antimuon plus neutrino with an average lifetime of 2.603 x 10 -8seconds, the neutral pion decays into two photons with an average lifetime of about 0.8 x 10 -16seconds, and the muon and antimuon decay respectively into . . .” And so it runs on-and this from a book for the general reader by one of the (normally) most lucid of interpreters, Steven Weinberg.

In the 1960s, in an attempt to bring just a little simplicity to matters, the Caltech physicist Murray Gell-Mann invented a new class of particles, essentially, in the words of Steven Weinberg, “to restore some economy to the multitude of hadrons”-a collective term used by physicists for protons, neutrons, and other particles governed by the strong nuclear force. Gell-Mann’s theory was that all hadrons were made up of still smaller, even more fundamental particles. His colleague Richard Feynman wanted to call these new basic particles partons , as in Dolly, but was overruled. Instead they became known as quarks .

Gell-Mann took the name from a line in Finnegans Wake : “Three quarks for Muster Mark!” (Discriminating physicists rhyme the word with storks , not larks , even though the latter is almost certainly the pronunciation Joyce had in mind.) The fundamental simplicity of quarks was not long lived. As they became better understood it was necessary to introduce subdivisions. Although quarks are much too small to have color or taste or any other physical characteristics we would recognize, they became clumped into six categories-up, down, strange, charm, top, and bottom-which physicists oddly refer to as their “flavors,” and these are further divided into the colors red, green, and blue. (One suspects that it was not altogether coincidental that these terms were first applied in California during the age of psychedelia.)

Eventually out of all this emerged what is called the Standard Model, which is essentially a sort of parts kit for the subatomic world. The Standard Model consists of six quarks, six leptons, five known bosons and a postulated sixth, the Higgs boson (named for a Scottish scientist, Peter Higgs), plus three of the four physical forces: the strong and weak nuclear forces and electromagnetism.

The arrangement essentially is that among the basic building blocks of matter are quarks; these are held together by particles called gluons; and together quarks and gluons form protons and neutrons, the stuff of the atom’s nucleus. Leptons are the source of electrons and neutrinos. Quarks and leptons together are called fermions. Bosons (named for the Indian physicist S. N. Bose) are particles that produce and carry forces, and include photons and gluons. The Higgs boson may or may not actually exist; it was invented simply as a way of endowing particles with mass.

It is all, as you can see, just a little unwieldy, but it is the simplest model that can explain all that happens in the world of particles. Most particle physicists feel, as Leon Lederman remarked in a 1985 PBS documentary, that the Standard Model lacks elegance and simplicity. “It is too complicated. It has too many arbitrary parameters,” Lederman said. “We don’t really see the creator twiddling twenty knobs to set twenty parameters to create the universe as we know it.” Physics is really nothing more than a search for ultimate simplicity, but so far all we have is a kind of elegant messiness-or as Lederman put it: “There is a deep feeling that the picture is not beautiful.”

The Standard Model is not only ungainly but incomplete. For one thing, it has nothing at all to say about gravity. Search through the Standard Model as you will, and you won’t find anything to explain why when you place a hat on a table it doesn’t float up to the ceiling. Nor, as we’ve just noted, can it explain mass. In order to give particles any mass at all we have to introduce the notional Higgs boson; whether it actually exists is a matter for twenty-first-century physics. As Feynman cheerfully observed: “So we are stuck with a theory, and we do not know whether it is right or wrong, but we do know that it is a little wrong, or at least incomplete.”

In an attempt to draw everything together, physicists have come up with something called superstring theory. This postulates that all those little things like quarks and leptons that we had previously thought of as particles are actually “strings”-vibrating strands of energy that oscillate in eleven dimensions, consisting of the three we know already plus time and seven other dimensions that are, well, unknowable to us. The strings are very tiny-tiny enough to pass for point particles.

By introducing extra dimensions, superstring theory enables physicists to pull together quantum laws and gravitational ones into one comparatively tidy package, but it also means that anything scientists say about the theory begins to sound worryingly like the sort of thoughts that would make you edge away if conveyed to you by a stranger on a park bench. Here, for example, is the physicist Michio Kaku explaining the structure of the universe from a superstring perspective: “The heterotic string consists of a closed string that has two types of vibrations, clockwise and counterclockwise, which are treated differently. The clockwise vibrations live in a ten-dimensional space. The counterclockwise live in a twenty-six-dimensional space, of which sixteen dimensions have been compactified. (We recall that in Kaluza’s original five-dimensional, the fifth dimension was compactified by being wrapped up into a circle.)” And so it goes, for some 350 pages.

String theory has further spawned something called “M theory,” which incorporates surfaces known as membranes-or simply “branes” to the hipper souls of the world of physics. I’m afraid this is the stop on the knowledge highway where most of us must get off. Here is a sentence from the New York Times , explaining this as simply as possible to a general audience: “The ekpyrotic process begins far in the indefinite past with a pair of flat empty branes sitting parallel to each other in a warped five-dimensional space. . . . The two branes, which form the walls of the fifth dimension, could have popped out of nothingness as a quantum fluctuation in the even more distant past and then drifted apart.” No arguing with that. No understanding it either. Ekpyrotic , incidentally, comes from the Greek word for “conflagration.”

Matters in physics have now reached such a pitch that, as Paul Davies noted in Nature , it is “almost impossible for the non-scientist to discriminate between the legitimately weird and the outright crackpot.” The question came interestingly to a head in the fall of 2002 when two French physicists, twin brothers Igor and Grickha Bogdanov, produced a theory of ambitious density involving such concepts as “imaginary time” and the “Kubo-Schwinger-Martin condition,” and purporting to describe the nothingness that was the universe before the Big Bang-a period that was always assumed to be unknowable (since it predated the birth of physics and its properties).

Almost at once the Bogdanov paper excited debate among physicists as to whether it was twaddle, a work of genius, or a hoax. “Scientifically, it’s clearly more or less complete nonsense,” Columbia University physicist Peter Woit told the New York Times , “but these days that doesn’t much distinguish it from a lot of the rest of the literature.”

Karl Popper, whom Steven Weinberg has called “the dean of modern philosophers of science,” once suggested that there may not be an ultimate theory for physics-that, rather, every explanation may require a further explanation, producing “an infinite chain of more and more fundamental principles.” A rival possibility is that such knowledge may simply be beyond us. “So far, fortunately,” writes Weinberg in Dreams of a Final Theory , “we do not seem to be coming to the end of our intellectual resources.”