My undergraduate degree is in physics, and, to a large extent, my work in graduate school was in the area of physics, although it was called “electrical engineering.” I was, more or less, on the physics side of engineering. As such, I have had various experiences with physicists, both in person and by way of written or otherwise recorded information.
I felt driven out of the realm of pure physics for several reasons, two of which involved my future prospects in the field. I felt that, if I were to stay in physics, my job possibilities would be highly limited, and I also felt that most of the ‘action’ in physics revolved around the study of fundamental particles, which, even at the time, I recognized as being far more philosophical a pursuit than many a physicist would care to admit. My third main reason for leaving the field proper, however, was the arrogance of many of the physicists that I met. In fact, it was arrogance combined with subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hypocrisy.
I would, first of all, say that physics is an interesting subject, and its study by numerous individuals has led to a number of remarkable discoveries and technologies (none of which are pure blessings, if I may give a little nod to Neil Postman). That being said, physicists are walking, talking examples of why a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. A little bit of success by way of theorization and experimentation leads many physicists to posit themselves as gods - except, of course, when confronted with the philosophical implications of their theorizing. At such a point, they throw up a smoke screen with the “we’re physicists, not philosophers” tripe. (Yes, I have actually heard a physicist say just those words.) Good philosophers they are certainly not (in most cases), but they are indeed philosophers. Anyone who can talk about some of the more arcane aspects of quantum theory and still, with a straight face, declare themselves to be immune from philosophical considerations is either a liar or a schizophrenic (or both).
To present a case in point, consider the late Dr. Richard P. Feynman. Feynman was a well-known physicist who, to this day, leaves behind a legacy of influential accomplishments. I do not doubt that Dr. Feynman was a smart man; I have no doubt he was quite a bit smarter than the present author. Nevertheless, from what I can tell, he was not possessed of reason when it came to the implications of his theories.
Feynman was a major contributor to the theory of quantum electrodynamics (QED), which deals with electromagnetic radiation (light), the behavior of electrons and other associated phenomena. In a particular lecture, Feynman extolled the success of the theory in predicting certain experimental results (although, I could raise some philosophical objections to this, but that is another subject), and even went on to say that QED could, theoretically, account for the behavior of men. That is to say, how people act and how they think is determined by the behavior of the particles that compose them. The behavior of these particles is, in turn, controlled by the forces that act upon them, as described by QED (along with gravitation, as described by general relativity, and the strong nuclear force, as described by quantum chromodynamics). Therefore, if there was a sufficiently powerful computer that was able to calculate the behavior of a virtually infinite number of particles as they interacted through time and space, that computer could and should, theoretically, explain (or predict, presumably) human thought and behavior.
The materialistic metaphysic of such a statement is quite evident. One question comes to mind, however: if, as Feynman says, human thought is nothing more than the end product of forces acting on particles (or, to put it another way, “matter in motion”), then one must ask why we should trust Feynman’s statements about anything. After all, what goes on in Feynman’s grey matter is the product of matter in motion, and there is no reason (within the materialistic framework) to think that Feynman has any freedom whatsoever to think in any manner not determined by the action of the particles in his skull (and, perhaps, to a lesser extent by the particles outside his skull). Yes, Feynman extols QED. He cannot help but extol QED, because that is how the particles that compose his body happen to be moving at that particular time. Feynman is, thus, no more than a puppet, whose mouth moves and produces sound waves and such that may impinge upon the ears of others. What does this have to do with reality, though?
Alternatively, look at it another way. Consider Feynman, a proponent of QED, and Smith, a skeptic of QED. To say that what goes on in Feynman’s head corresponds to truth and that what goes on in Smith’s head corresponds to falsity is to say that one arrangement of particles corresponds to truth and one to falsity. Such is nonsense, however, in a materialistic framework. ‘Truth’ is not a characteristic of particles, no matter their configuration. As a result, to speak of Feynman presenting truth is to speak in a manner that, from a materialistic perspective, would be entirely nonsensical. As a result, since truth (along with all concepts, since they are immaterial) is destroyed, logic is destroyed. Thus, materialism cannot support itself, and is shown to be self-refuting.
In light of such a devastating refutation of materialism, I believe that I am quite justified in my statement that physicists often combine arrogance (”my theory explains everything”) and hypocrisy (”I don’t need to answer such metaphysical nonsense”). This is quite unfortunate, but an expected consequence, in many ways. A little knowledge is, indeed, a dangerous thing.