杏吧原创

IN 1982, the physicist Hugh Everett III died, broken by depression and addiction. He left his papers in boxes, stacked in the basement of his family home in Virginia. Peter Byrne took on the task of opening the boxes and piecing together the story they contained. This labour of love has resulted in a book that is by turns fascinating, perplexing and harrowing.

Everett鈥檚 idea is now known as the 鈥渕any worlds鈥� interpretation of quantum mechanics. According to Everett, a new universe is created every time we measure the position of an atom, the spin of an electron, or the energy of a light photon. Though it sounds as outlandish today as it did on first publication, for many physicists this is now the interpretation of choice when confronted with the mysteries of the quantum world.

Byrne does an excellent job of explaining the theory, why it is necessary and the difficulties it solves (and doesn鈥檛). But that is only half the story. The other half deals with the strange and troubled man behind the idea.

Everett鈥檚 story is one of thwarted ambition, blind 鈥� and misplaced 鈥� faith in the integrity of science, despair, genius, subterfuge, adultery and drunkenness. This is physics as morality tale, beautifully told in a clear, unfussy and deeply authoritative voice.

Byrne does not patronise his readers with superficial pen portraits of his characters. There are no deep brown eyes or square chins. We get to know the characters by what they say and what they do. And they say and do some truly remarkable things.

Those, like me, who have idolised the Princeton University physicist John Wheeler, for example, will have their illusions shattered. Wheeler was Everett鈥檚 doctoral thesis adviser but was torn by his almost canine loyalty to the Danish father of quantum theory, Niels Bohr. Everett鈥檚 thesis was critical of Bohr, and Wheeler eventually hung his student out to dry. 鈥淎s the many worlds interpretation gradually gained credence and popularity over the next few decades, Wheeler ceased advocating for, and eventually disparaged it,鈥� Byrne tells us.

Once his thesis was published, Everett slowly began to fall apart. By the time he died, aged 51, of a heart attack, he was a chain-smoking alcoholic. His son Mark found him and later reflected that his futile attempts at CPR were the only physical contact he鈥檇 ever had with his father.

Byrne tells us that 鈥渢he unvarnished story of what happened to his family鈥� is an American tragedy 鈥� and, yet, it is also a lesson in the quality of forgiveness鈥�. This is a strangely beautiful story, expertly told with the dignity, candour and attention to detail it deserves.