Quantum Existentialism

Imagine a physicist who, faced with a quantum conundrum, finds himself having to take a leap of faith. Not religious faith, but something similar: a leap into the unknown, where truth is no longer an object that exists out there, but arises from the relationship between the observer and what is observed. This is the turning point that brings together two figures who, on the surface, should never have met: Niels Bohr, the father of quantum physics, and Søren Kierkegaard, a Christian existentialist philosopher. The argument here is clear: modern physics does not tell us that reality is objective and fixed; rather, it tells us that truth takes shape only when someone observes it—and that our point of view is not a flaw to be eliminated, but the very core of everything. Classical science had accustomed us to thinking that the world existed independently of us, like a perfect machine to be deciphered piece by piece. But the quantum revolution, and in particular Bohr's interpretation, turns everything on its head: every phenomenon comes to life only when it enters into a relationship with an observer. And this is not just a laboratory oddity, but an existential condition that affects us all, every day. Let's try to put some faces to this story. Niels Bohr, who grew up in Denmark, could not help but encounter the ideas of Kierkegaard, his country's most famous thinker. Bohr was known for his almost Zen-like calm, but also for his ability to perceive paradoxes that left everyone bewildered. When the young Bohr delved into the mysteries of the atom, he found himself confronted with something that defied all logic: reality seemed to change depending on how you looked at it. And this is where Kierkegaard enters the picture, having already challenged the dominant philosophy of the time, that of Hegel, a century earlier. While Hegel sought a universal system, an objective truth that would explain everything, Kierkegaard was obsessed with what eluded grand systems: individual choice, subjective experience, and the leap of faith. One of his key phrases, translated, is this: “Truth is subjectivity.” This does not mean that everything is relative or that reality is our invention, but rather that the ultimate meaning of things is revealed only when we personally engage with them. Carlo Rovelli, a physicist and popular science writer, explains that Kierkegaard overturns Hegel's point of view: what matters is not objective truth, but personal perspective, even though it is always partial. And here comes the connection with quantum physics: for Bohr, the truth of a physical process “lies in the observer,” not in a separate, objective reality. Quantum physics compels us to accept that every observation is a choice, an act that determines what we see, and that outside of this relationship, reality remains indeterminate, like a blank canvas. There is a scene that makes all of this even more tangible. Imagine Bohr, standing in front of his students, saying, “Physicists rarely invent anything without first getting permission from a philosopher.” Behind the quip lies a profound admission: even the most rigorous science cannot escape human experience. And quantum physics, instead of freeing us from subjectivity, places it at the very heart of things. Rovelli goes even further: “We are co-creators of the fabric of reality. The world that awaits us is not already written; rather, it takes shape through the choices we make.” What we call objectivity, without a subject observing it, is merely an abstraction. And this view is not just a quirk for philosophers: it changes the way we think about our role in the world. Czesław Miłosz, a Nobel Prize-winning poet, puts it this way: “Quantum theory restores to the mind the role of co-creator of reality. We are no longer insignificant specks in the universe, but leading actors in the universal drama.” If you think about it, every choice you make—even the most trivial—helps shape a future that no one can predict. And this uncertainty is not a misfortune; it is the human condition. Kierkegaard sums it up with a phrase you can't forget: “Life can only be understood by looking backward, but it must be lived by looking forward.” But if we stop here, we risk embracing a new dogma: that subjectivity is everything, and that truth is merely a matter of perspective. The point that is often overlooked is our responsibility for what we choose to see. If every act of observation is a creative act, then every choice we make—even the choice to ignore something—leaves a mark on the world. This means that the search for truth is never neutral: it is always an act of participation, a taking responsibility for one's own way of seeing. Here's the phrase you can take with you: You don't discover reality; you construct it every time you choose to look. If what you've just heard has moved something inside you, on Lara Notes you can press I'm In – it's not a 'like,' it's your way of saying: This idea is now part of me. And if you feel like telling someone that quantum physics also arose from an existential crisis, on Lara Notes you can mark that conversation with Shared Offline: it's your way of saying that that shared moment truly mattered. This story comes from NOEMA, and in just over a minute and a half, you have saved over two minutes compared to the original article.