I think I’ve just disproved Schrodinger’s thought experiment. You know, the one with the cat.
‘Oh darn,’ (or words to that effect) I exclaimed shortly after dark. ‘I can’t remember if I closed the chicken house or not.’
‘It’s irrelevant anyway,’ Number One Son said immediately.
I paused in the act of putting on my boots. ‘Hold on a minute – are you saying they’re Schrödinger’s chickens – both closed-up and not closed-up?’
‘That’s right,’ N1S said smugly. ‘‘Either way, you’re not going to be happy until you’ve checked.’
I thought about this as I trudged off down the garden to collapse the wave function in the rain, but the more I thought the less happy with the idea I was. According to the theory, if I’d just turned on my heel, I’d have left the chickens in a state of quantum uncertainty. But in the morning, our cockerel would most definitely announce to the world if he was out or not – probably at 5am – collapsing the wave himself.
I wonder if there’s a subatomic equivalent of a randy rooster?