Reviewing: “Principled Uncertainty: A Quantum Exploration of Maimonides’ Perfect and Infinite God,” by Ari K. Tuchman. Kodesh Press. 2023. 183 pages. ISBN-13: 979-8888940136.

Using a king in theological analogies has worked quite efficiently since time immemorial. When used to show power and supremacy, characters like a king who wielded absolute and unchecked power, could kill at will, and invoked fear and trepidation in their subjects were quite effective. That’s why countless Talmudic and Hasidic narratives use the king as a compelling metaphor for the all-powerful Almighty.

Today, kings are simply figureheads. In the case of King Charles III of the United Kingdom, rather than invoking fear and trepidation, he is seen as an ordinary person born into nobility, whose good deeds and missteps are open to public scrutiny.

So today, what theological analogies can be used that are timely, effective and intellectually stimulating? In “Principled Uncertainty: A Quantum Exploration of Maimonides Perfect and Infinite God,” Dr. Ari Tuchman suggests that quantum mechanics provides fertile ground for that.

This is one of the most original and intellectually stimulating books I’ve read in a while. Tuchman takes Torah Umadda to its very core here in this unique book.

Quantum mechanics (QM) is the field of physics that explains how things work at an extremely small scale. Its building blocks are subatomic particles—particles smaller than atoms. These subatomic particles operate in a very different manner than particles within classical physics.

Much of QM is counterintuitive, which adds to its complexity. Consider that in classical physics, if you wanted to measure a car’s exact velocity and position, you could do so with extraordinary precision. You could know the car’s exact velocity and position.

However, when working within subatomic particles, that becomes counter-intuitively impossible. The reason is that a car’s momentum is its mass multiplied by its velocity. In the world of QM, the ability to measure both is impossible.

Commonly known as Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, it states that you can’t know both the position and speed of a particle with exact accuracy.

As many people have observed, QM is really weird. But within that weirdness, Tuchman can glean brilliant insights.

Tuchman writes that science is not designed to prove or refute God’s existence. I took a similar approach when reviewing “The Cosmic Puzzle: A Scientific Investigation into the Existence of God. Rather” by Harold Gans: An understanding of science can provide a metaphorical framework for pursuing a personal God once faith is established. And that is precisely what Tuchman does brilliantly in this most engaging book.

Here, Tuchman uses the facts that quantum mechanics has uncovered about how the universe operates to provide analogies to help us understand God.

He starts with a brief background on the relevant principles of quantum mechanics. If the reader gets a bit confused, they are in good company. None other than Albert Einstein, when thinking of the unintuitive native of quantum mechanics, called the notion of quantum entanglement (the phenomenon where a pair of particles is generated in such a manner that the individual quantum states of each are indefinite until measured, and the act of measuring one determines the result of measuring the other, even when at a significant distance from each other) “spooky action at a distance.”

In classical physics, miracles are inherently problematic, as miracles, by definition, violate scientific law. But quantum mechanics permits miracles to be scientifically explained both in the context of a global set of laws of physics and in the context of local time and individual-specific conditions such as prayer.

Tuchman writes that in classical physics, all petitionary prayer is effectively prayer for time reversal, which is explicitly forbidden. But in quantum mechanics, outcomes are not just unknown but also undetermined. And that undetermined state can be changed via divine observation.

Much of QM deals with measurement and observation. Tuchman shows how terms such as “measurement” and “observation” are found countless times within the Chumash and Talmud.

Consider what Rabbi Akiva says in Avot 3:15: Everything is foreseen (tzafui), yet freedom of choice is granted. The word tzafui can be translated as “seen” or “observed,” which provides a mapping to a quantum analogy. Tuchman gives scores of examples like this, where quantum analogies can be templated over the text.

An important point to consider when using analogies for understanding God is that they are neither true nor false but simply possess the potential for utility—quite similar to Biblical Midrash.

Another quantum analogy occurs in the second verse in Chumash, stating, “with darkness over the surface of the deep and a wind from God sweeping (merachefet) over the water.” Merachefet can also be translated as “oscillating,” which captures a richer aspect of the QM metaphor.

The book closes with a quantum narrative, in which Tuchman examines the story of Choni Hame’aggel through the lens of QM. He admits he takes some license in his interpretation of the story, but it is insightful, nonetheless.

As engaging as “Principled Uncertainty” is, the book is not for everyone. However, for those with an interest in science and physics, specifically quantum physics, it will be one of the more engaging books they read.

There are shivim panim l’Torah—70 different dimensions to the Torah (Bemidbar Rabbah 13). In “Principled Uncertainty,” we learn that one of those ways is through quantum mechanics.

Ben Rothke lives in New Jersey and works in the information security field. He reviews books on religion, technology, philosophy and science. Follow him on X at @benrothke.