amount of energy to bring all the charge together at a single point. This problem had been known for some time and various schemes had been put together to solve it, but the simplest was to assume that the electron really wasn’t confined to a single point, but had a finite size.
By early in the twentieth century this issue took on a different perspective, however. With the development of quantum mechanics, the picture of electrons, and electric and magnetic fields, had completely changed. So-called wave-particle duality, for example, a part of quantum theory, said that both light and matter, in this case electrons, sometimes behaved as if they were particles and sometimes as if they were waves. As our understanding of the quantum universe grew, while the universe also got stranger and stranger, nevertheless some of the key puzzles of classical physics disappeared. But others remained, and the self-energy of the electron was one of them. In order to put this in context, we need to explore the quantum world a little bit.
Quantum mechanics has two central characteristics, both of which completely defy all of our standard intuition about the world. First, objects that are behaving quantum mechanically are the ultimate multitaskers. They are capable of being in many different configurations at the same time. This includes being in different places and doing different things simultaneously. For example, while an electron behaves almost like a spinning top, it can also act as if it is spinning around in many different directions at the same time.
If an electron acts as if it is spinning counterclockwise around an axis pointing up from the floor, we say it has spin up . If it is spinning clockwise, we say it has spin down . At any instant the probability that an electron has spin up may be 50 percent, and the probability that it has spin down may be 50 percent. If electrons behaved as our classical intuition would suggest, the implication would be that each electron we measure has either spin up or spin down, and that 50 percent of the electrons will be found to be in one configuration and 50 percent in the other.
In one sense this is true. If we measure electrons in this way, we will find that 50 percent are spin up and 50 percent are spin down. But , and this is a very important but , it is incorrect to assume that each electron is in one configuration or another before we make the measurement. In the language of quantum mechanics, each electron is in a “superposition of states of spin up and spin down” before the measurement. Put more succinctly, it is spinning both ways.
How do we know that the assumption that electrons are in one or another configuration is “incorrect”? It turns out that we can perform experiments whose results depend on what the electron is doing when we are not measuring it, and the results would come out differently if the electron had been behaving sensibly, that is, in one or another specific configuration between measurements.
The most famous example of this involves shooting electrons at a wall with two slits cut into it. Behind the wall is a scintillating screen, much like the screen on old-fashioned vacuum-tube televisions, that lights up wherever an electron hits it. If we don’t measure the electrons between the time they leave the source and when they hit the screen, so that we cannot tell which slit each electron goes through, we would see a pattern of bright and dark patches emerge on the rear screen—precisely the kind of “interference pattern” that we would see for light or sound waves that traverse a two-slit device, or perhaps more familiarly, the pattern of alternating ripples and calm that often results when two streams of water converge together. Amazingly, this pattern emerges even if we send only a single electron toward the two slits at any time. The pattern thus suggests that somehow the electron “interferes” with itself after going through both slits at the same