This is where the unfolding of quantum mechanics on configuration space is so important. To retain that essential property of it – the huge step that Schrödinger took – we must pass from his hybrid Q to Platonia. If we are to succeed in formulating quantum mechanics in the new arena, there must be ‘distances’ in it. But that is precisely what the best-matching idea was developed to provide. Exactly the same ‘distances’ needed to realize Mach’s principle in classical physics can be used in a version of wave mechanics for a universe without absolute space. All we have to do is measure curvatures with respect to the Machian distances created on Platonia by best matching. We then add curvatures measured in as many mutually perpendicular directions as there are dimensions in that timeless arena, and set the sum equal to minus the potential number.
In fact, it is quite easy to see that the wave functions that satisfy the Schrödinger conditions in this Machian case are precisely the eigenfunctions of ordinary quantum mechanics for which the angular-momentum eigenvalues are zero. This exactly matches our result in classical mechanics – that the best-matching condition leads to solutions identical to the Newtonian solutions with angular momentum zero. We have already seen why they must be static solutions.
The picture that emerges is very simple. The quantum counterpart of Machian classical dynamics is a static wave function ψ on Platonia. The rules that govern its variation from point to point in Platonia involve only the potential and the best-matching ‘distance’. Both are ‘topographic features’ of the timeless arena. Surveyors sent to map it would find them. They would see that the mists of Platonia respect its topography. It determines where the mist collects.
CHAPTER 16
‘That Damned Equation’
HISTORY AND QUANTUM COSMOLOGY
The year 1980 was another turning point in my life. It was when Bruno Bertotti and I thought we might have found a new theory of gravitation, only to learn that the two ideas on which we had based it were already an integral part of Einstein’s theory. Karel Kuchař’s intervention rounded off our work but also brought it to an end. It was something of an anticlimax. Bruno became increasingly involved in experiments using spacecraft, aimed at detecting the gravitational waves predicted by Einstein’s theory. For a year or two I actually stopped doing physics and became politically active in the newly founded Social Democratic Party (the SDP). However, the old interests soon revived. Margaret Thatcher’s decisive general election victory in 1983 hastened the process.
Two things occupied me through the 1980s. First, I wrote the book from which I quoted the comments about Kepler. It had always been my ambition to write about absolute and relative motion, and in 1984 I signed a contract with Cambridge University Press for a book of four hundred pages covering the period from Newton to Einstein and including an account of my work with Bruno. When I embarked upon it, it occurred to me that I ought to find out why Newton had said what he had. What had given him the idea of absolute space? Might it not be an idea to look at what Galileo had said? I made a wonderful mistake by asking those questions. Before I knew what was happening, my research into Galileo dragged me ever further into past history, through the Copernican revolution to the work of Ptolemy and all the way back to the pre-Socratic philosophers. By reading the actual works of scientists such as Ptolemy, Kepler and Galileo, I found that the early history of mechanics and astronomy was far more interesting than any account of it I could find by the professional historians of science. They had missed all sorts of fascinating things, and their histories were quite inadequate. Inspired by Kepler’s comment that the ways by which men discover things in the heavens are almost as interesting as the things themselves, I started to write about all the early work. I spent from 1985 to 1988 writing a completely unplanned book: