![]() |
|
![]() |
The fundamental particles of the universe that physicists have identified --
electrons, neutrinos, quarks, and so on -- are the "letters" of all matter. Just
like their linguistic counterparts, they appear to have no further internal
substructure. String theory proclaims otherwise. According to string theory, if
we could examine these particles with even greater precision -- a precision many
orders of magnitude beyond our present technological capacity -- we would find
that each is not pointlike but instead consists of a tiny, one-dimensional loop.
Like an infinitely thin rubber band, each particle contains a vibrating,
oscillating, dancing filament that physicists have named a string.
In the figure at right, we illustrate this essential idea of string theory by
starting with an ordinary piece of matter, an apple, and repeatedly magnifying
its structure to reveal its ingredients on ever smaller scales. String theory
adds the new microscopic layer of a vibrating loop to the previously known
progression from atoms through protons, neutrons, electrons, and quarks.
Although it is by no means obvious, this simple replacement of point-particle
material constituents with strings resolves the incompatibility between quantum
mechanics and general relativity (which, as currently formulated, cannot both be
right). String theory thereby unravels the central Gordian knot of contemporary
theoretical physics. This is a tremendous achievement, but it is only part of
the reason string theory has generated such excitement.

Field of dreams
In Einstein's day, the strong and weak forces had not yet been discovered, but
he found the existence of even two distinct forces -- gravity and
electromagnetism -- deeply troubling. Einstein did not accept that nature is
founded on such an extravagant design. This launched his 30-year voyage in
search of the so-called unified field theory that he hoped would show that these
two forces are really manifestations of one grand underlying principle. This
quixotic quest isolated Einstein from the mainstream of physics, which,
understandably, was far more excited about delving into the newly emerging
framework of quantum mechanics. He wrote to a friend in the early 1940s, "I have
become a lonely old chap who is mainly known because he doesn't wear socks and
who is exhibited as a curiosity on special occasions."
Einstein was simply ahead of his time. More than half a century later, his dream
of a unified theory has become the Holy Grail of modern physics. And a sizeable
part of the physics and mathematics community is becoming increasingly convinced
that string theory may provide the answer. From one principle -- that everything
at its most microscopic level consists of combinations of vibrating strands --
string theory provides a single explanatory framework capable of encompassing
all forces and all matter.
String theory proclaims, for instance, that the observed particle properties --
that is, the different masses and other properties of both the fundamental
particles and the force particles associated with the four forces of nature (the
strong and weak nuclear forces, electromagnetism, and gravity) -- are a
reflection of the various ways in which a string can vibrate. Just as the
strings on a violin or on a piano have resonant frequencies at which they prefer
to vibrate -- patterns that our ears sense as various musical notes and their
higher harmonics -- the same holds true for the loops of string theory. But
rather than producing musical notes, each of the preferred mass and force
charges are determined by the string's oscillatory pattern. The electron is a
string vibrating one way, the up-quark is a string vibrating another way, and so
on.
Far from being a collection of chaotic experimental facts, particle properties
in string theory are the manifestation of one and the same physical feature: the
resonant patterns of vibration -- the music, so to speak -- of fundamental loops
of string. The same idea applies to the forces of nature as well. Force
particles are also associated with particular patterns of string vibration and
hence everything, all matter and all forces, is unified under the same rubric of
microscopic string oscillations -- the "notes" that strings can play.
![]()
A theory to end theories
For the first time in the history of physics we therefore have a framework with
the capacity to explain every fundamental feature upon which the universe is
constructed. For this reason string theory is sometimes described as possibly
being the "theory of everything" (T.O.E.) or the "ultimate" or "final" theory.
These grandiose descriptive terms are meant to signify the deepest possible
theory of physics -- a theory that underlies all others, one that does not
require or even allow for a deeper explanatory base.
In practice, many string theorists take a more down-to-earth approach and think
of a T.O.E. in the more limited sense of a theory that can explain the
properties of the fundamental particles and the properties of the forces by
which they interact and influence one another. A staunch reductionist would
claim that this is no limitation at all, and that in principle absolutely
everything, from the big bang to daydreams, can be described in terms of
underlying microscopic physical processes involving the fundamental constituents
of matter. If you understand everything about the ingredients, the reductionist
argues, you understand everything.
The reductionist philosophy easily ignites heated debate. Many find it fatuous
and downright repugnant to claim that the wonders of life and the universe are
mere reflections of microscopic particles engaged in a pointless dance fully
choreographed by the laws of physics. Is it really the case that feelings of
joy, sorrow, or boredom are nothing but chemical reactions in the brain --
reactions between molecules and atoms that, even more microscopically, are
reactions between some of the fundamental particles, which are really just
vibrating strings?
In response to this line of criticism, Nobel laureate Steven Weinberg cautions
in Dreams of a Final Theory:
At the other end of the spectrum are the opponents of reductionism who are
appalled by what they feel to be the bleakness of modern science. To whatever
extent they and their world can be reduced to a matter of particles or fields
and their interactions, they feel diminished by that knowledge....I would not
try to answer these critics with a pep talk about the beauties of modern
science. The reductionist worldview is chilling and impersonal. It has to be
accepted as it is, not because we like it, but because that is the way the world
works.
Some agree with this stark view, some don't.
Others have tried to argue that developments such as chaos theory tell us that
new kinds of laws come into play when the level of complexity of a system
increases. Understanding the behavior of an electron or quark is one thing;
using this knowledge to understand the behavior of a tornado is quite another.
On this point, most agree. But opinions diverge on whether the diverse and often
unexpected phenomena that can occur in systems more complex than individual
particles truly represent new physical principles at work, or whether the
principles involved are derivative, relying, albeit in a terribly complicated
way, on the physical principles governing the enormously large number of
elementary constituents.
My own feeling is that they do not represent new and independent laws of
physics. Although it would be hard to explain the properties of a tornado in
terms of the physics of electrons and quarks, I see this as a matter of
calculational impasse, not an indicator of the need for new physical laws. But
again, there are some who disagree with this view.

A fresh start for science
What is largely beyond question, and is of primary importance to the journey
described in my book The Elegant Universe, is that even if one accepts the
debatable reasoning of the staunch reductionist, principle is one thing and
practice quite another. Almost everyone agrees that finding the T.O.E. would in
no way mean that psychology, biology, geology, chemistry, or even physics had
been solved or in some sense subsumed. The universe is such a wonderfully rich
and complex place that the discovery of the final theory, in the sense we are
describing here, would not spell the end of science.
Quite the contrary: The discovery of the T.O.E. -- the ultimate explanation of
the universe at its most microscopic level, a theory that does not rely on any
deeper explanation -- would provide the firmest foundation on which to build our
understanding of the world. Its discovery would mark a beginning, not an end.
The ultimate theory would provide an unshakable pillar of coherence forever
assuring us that the universe is a comprehensible place.