All You Compute, and All You QFT, Is All Your Life Will Ever Be

I think if I had to choose an official question for quantum computing it would be the question “where are all the quantum algorithms?” I mean, every time I talk to someone outside of quantum computing it seems like this is the first question they ask (followed closely by “when is a large quantum computer going to be built?”)
Of course this question ignores a lot of hard work put in by a lot of people to come up with new quantum algorithms. Efficient quantum algorithms like solving Pell’s equation, estimating certain Gauss sums, solving hidden shift problems (more here), and solving certain non-abelian hidden subgroup problems, just for example. But when you mention these algorithms, you invariably find that these algorithms are just viewed as “variants of Shor’s algorithm.” In a sense this is true, but how true is it? Certainly many of the algorithms listed above require a lot more than “just Shor.”
In my mind it is useful to partition Shor’s algorithm for factoring into two parts (pun, pun, pun.) One part of Shor’s algorithm is the part of the algorithm that uses a fourier transform to efficiently solve a hidden subgroup problem. The second part is realizing that the solution of a hidden subgroup problem can be used to efficiently factor. What most people mean when they say that our quantum algorithms are “just Shor” is that they mimic the first part of the algorithm, i.e. they use a fourier transform. And indeed, all of the algorithms I list above use, in some manner, quantum fourier transforms. But they certainly don’t necessarily use them in the same, straightforward, manner they are used in Shor’s algorithm.
Last week I was in San Diego at a meeting on quantum algorithms. During part of the meeting we broke up into small groups and attempted to reason about where the field of quantum algorithms was going and then regroup to hear what each group had said. Wim van Dam made the following observation, which I found both funny and very striking. Wim noted that the Toffoli gate and the Hadamard gate are universal for quantum computing (see here for a simple proof by Dorit Aharonov.) The Toffoli gate is, of course, a “classical” gate which is universal for classical computation. The Hadamard gate is nothing more that the quantum fourier transform over the simplest of all groups, the cyclic group with two elements, Z_2. What does this mean? This means, as Wim said, that EVERY QUANTUM ALGORITHM IS NOTHING MORE THAN FOURIER TRANSFORMS AND CLASSICAL COMPUTATION! Ha! I love it!
Of course this points out the absurdity of in calling all algorithms after Shor, “like Shor.” Certainly they bear a resemblance, but isn’t this resemblance due to the fact that classical computations plus fourier transforms is all the quantum algorithms will ever be able to achieve? In one manner I ask this question in jest, but in another more serious manner, I do not think this view is all that crazy. That universal gate set of classical computing plus the Hadamard is, I think, a striking result. Might it be a key to understanding all our quantum algorithms and coming up with new ones? I think this is a great question and since I won’t be teaching until winter term I will have plenty of hours to mull it over!

Wither Funding?

DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency) has, over the years, been an important source of funding for all sorts of important computer science research (It was [D]ARPA funding which helped start the Internet!) For example, DARPA was an early and important source of funding for quantum computing research. Recently, there have been claims that DARPA has shifted its focus from more long term projects to more short term and classified programs. Here is a very interesting article about this controversy and, in particular, about the rebuttle of these charges by DARPA director Tony Tether in front of a House science committee meeting.

Quantum Doctor

Here is an interesting article by Dominik Janzing and Thomas Beth, both from Karlsruhe, Germany. The jist of the article is that if the world were more quantum, doctors would have to learn Bell inequalities!

On the potential influence of quantum noise on measuring effectiveness in clinical trials
ABSTRACT:To test the effectiveness of a drug, the medical researcher can instruct two randomly selected groups of patients to take the drug or not to take it. Each group should comply with the instructions exactly or else the causal effect cannot be identified satisfactorily. This holds true even when those who do not comply are identified afterwards, since latent factors such as patient’s personality can influence both his decision and his physical response. However, one can still give bounds on the effectiveness of the drug depending on the rate of compliance. They are described by 16 inequalities. Remarkably, the proofs for these bounds given in the literature rely on models that represent all relevant latent factors influencing patient’s behavior by hidden classical variables. In a strong analogy to the violation of Bell’s inequality, half of the inequalities fail if patient behavior is influenced by latent quantum processes (e.g. in his nervous system). Quantum effects could fake an increase in the recovery rate by about 13%, although the drug would hurt as many patients as it would help if everyone took it. We show that the other eight inequalities remain true even in the quantum case. We do not present a realistic model showing the above effect. We only point out that the physics of decision-making could be relevant for the causal interpretation of every-day life statistical data. Our derivation of the remaining eight inequalities suggests how to avoid problematic hidden-variable models in classical causal reasoning by representing all latent factors by quantum systems.

I’m guessing that this won’t help in the battle physicist’s have when teaching premed students (“Ooooh, but please just give me one more point on this quiz. Pleeeease!”)

Beyond the Quantum Event Horizon

The Perimeter Institute along with the University of Waterloo together form probably the largest concentration of the theorists in quantum computing in the world. And they just keep growing! So, in the past few years, I have been calling those two institutions “the black hole of quantum computing.” When I told this to Andrew Landahl at a meeting I was just attending in San Diego, he came up with a great correction to my description. Really I should have been calling it “the blackberry hole of quantum computing!”

No Comment on Qubit

A previous article on the meeting at Bell labs that I attended. Notable:

The National Institute of Standards and Technology and the super-secret National Security Agency are backing U.S. quantum projects.
NSA spokesman Ken White declined to elaborate, “given the sensitivities about our work to understand the secret communications of our foreign adversaries while protecting our own communica tions, and given our desire to preserve our nation’s unique advan tages in these pursuits.”

Ack. Quick, better shut down quant-ph!

Quantum Times

I see that the first issue of “The Quantum Times,” the newsletter of the APS topical group on quantum information, computation, and concepts is available online. Check out the shirt Charlie Bennett was wearing at the APS March meeting! And if you’re note a memeber of the topical group, join up!

QIP 2007

Via Michael Nielsen comes the first announcement of QIP 2006

Dear Colleagues,
This is the first announcement for the tenth QIP (Quantum Information
Processing) Workshop, to be held in Brisbane, Australia, from January 30
through February 3, 2007.
The deadline for abstract submission for contributed talks (long and
short) and for posters is 4 November, 2006.
The deadline for early bird registration is 24 November, 2006.
Full details are available at the workshop website:
http://qipworkshop.org/
Hope to see you in Brisbane in 2007!
Regards,
Michael Nielsen

QIP is the premier quantum information science conference for theorists (why it is called a workshop is beyond me!) I’m teaching winter term, but I hope to be able to take the week to attend QIP.
As a dedicated consipiracy theorist, I think it is interesting to note that QIP has been moving towards progressively warmer climates. I mean the QIPs in the early 2000s were all totally freezing (-12 is cold in both F and C) or accompanied by major storms. I suspect this is a sign of the maturation of the field. On the other hand, Brisbane was the site of a horrible massive huricane last year (crap I hope I didn’t just jinx Brisvegas.)

Translate to Classical, Then Laugh

If you ever let reviewers get under your skin, your going to waste a lot of your life with way too much grief. So my approach is mostly to first laugh, then send an email to my collaborators expressing outrage (vent), and then laugh again. Sometimes the reviewers comments are just priceless. For example, a recent review of a paper I was involved in had the following line:

However, the mere fact that the…transform can be applied efficiently is not a surprise – usually this is the case with quantum transforms, if one looks into the representation theory close enough.

Why is this funny? Well when I translate this over to classical algorithms I get the following sentence:

However, the mere fact that the circuit can be applied efficiently is not a surprise – usually this is the case with classical circuits, if one looks into the combinatorics close enough.

Ha! Now that’s funny.

The Computer Scientist and the Abominable Approximation

[Over at Shtetl-Optimized, Scott Aaronson has decided to take a shot at physicists with his cute little fable The Physicists and the Wagon. Scott specifically called me out, so I feel obliged to respond. Of course I would have liked to respond with a fable directly related to Scott’s main point, but that is damn hard, so instead I present to you a fable which may, or may not bear some relationship with Scott’s post and whose moral is mostly to harp on computer scientists not trusting physicists. If confronted I will immediately deny that I wrote the fable below or that the fable represents anything coming close to my true feelings on the subject.]
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a Physicist coming down along the road and this Physicist that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named Computer Science. [ed note: bonus points if you recognize this mangled famous opening line.]
Physicist, being ever interested in learning new things, began to have a conversation with the nicens little boy named Computer Science. Computer Scientist, it turns out, he had all of these really fun toys which were all labeled by combinations of letters and numbers (like P and NP and BPP and AC_0.) Physicist was quite confused by all of these letters. What did they mean? Why were there so many? It almost sounded like his friend Old-School Biology to him [ed note: if you’re going to hammer CS, why not hammer other fields equally?]
Computer Science patiently explained to Physicist what all of these strange letter combinations were and the accompaning beasts which they described, but really the physicist only listened to a bit of what he said. He really liked the complexity classes P and BPP, and understood the deep dark hatred everyone should have for complexity classes like NP-complete or NEXP. He was a bit confused by PSPACE and wondered, in a bout of extraillusionary intelligence, whether he should tell Computer Science about Special Relativity. But he really didn’t understand Computer Scientist’s obsession with the endless array of complexity classes.
After blabbering on for quite a while, Computer Scientist noticed that Physicst was nodding off. “Why aren’t you paying attention, Mr. Physicist?”
“Well, you keep talking about this endless array of complexity classes, and while it all sounds quite fascinating, I’m wondering if you could get to the point?”
Computer Scientist then launched into a diatribe about “proving” all sorts of different things (which the computer scientist insisted on refering to as “theorems.” This made these things seem big and important, and secure, like how he felt when he was safe in his fenced suburban home.) Physicist couldn’t take much of this diatribe, so he interupted, “But if you really feel strongly that these complexity classes are different, but you can’t prove it, why don’t you just accept it and move on? I mean you’ve got ample experience telling you that P does not equal NP, right?”
At this point Computer Scientist’s head bulged, his veins began to stand out from his neck, and he emmitted a long loud shriek which sounded a lot like fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard…and the nails breaking. Computer Scientist, however, had long mastered the art of immediate Zen meditation, and so began chanting to himself and calmed himself down by dumping the core of his memory and then rebooting.
“But, Physicist, if you can’t prove something, then how do you know it is true? Won’t you spend all of your life worrying about whether it is true or not?”
“Let me tell you a story” said Physicist, and therein he launched into a little sub-fable of his own:

Once upon a time, there was a clan known as the statistical physicists. These statistical physicists studied all kinds of interesting physical systems, their distinction being that they were very good with large numbers of interacting systems. They were particularly good at describing systems which changed their appearance (which physicists like to call “their phase”.) In other words they were particularly good at describing phase transitions.
Now some of members of the clan of computer scientists were smart enough to learn a little about the theory of phase transitions. Some of these members of the computer science clan, like almost every rational being, were particularly enamored with computational problems which were NP-complete. When they investigated these problems, together with members of the statitical physics clan, they discovered that instances of these NP-complete problems came in different phases and that, just like the phases they studied in physics, they could study the phase transitions between these different instances of the problem. Now this was fun! And so, because this worked for a few instances of the different NP-complete problems, these crazy scientists conjectured that NP-complete problems were distinguished from other computational problems by the existence of different phases and a phase transition. Indeed they were even bolder and claimed that the hard problems, the ones for which no known polynomial time algorithm would suceed, were those problems near this phase transition.
Of course this was in some ways both profound and silly. Silly because the scientist could not prove that this was true. Profound because the scienists had discovered that a property of physical systems could be mapped to a computational problem in an interesting, and possibly fruitful manner.
But scientists are a skeptical group. So no conjecture will last long without being challenged. So one scientist did. He examined the integer partitioning problem. The integer partitioning problem is, given a set of of k integers between 1 and N decide whether there is a subset of these k integers whose sum is equal to the sum of the elements not in this subset. This problem is a beast of the NP-complete kind. So according to what others were boldly conjecturing, this problem should have had a phase transtion. But, this scientist claimed, in an article entitled “The Use and Abuse of Statistical Mechanics in Computational Complexity,” that this problem did not exibit a phase transition. It was thus claimed to be a counter example to the bold conjecture!
But not everyone was sold on this conterargument. Indeed, numerical results immediately began to dispute this counterargument. And then a memeber of the statistical physics crowd, Stephan Mertens, approached the problem like a physicist. He showed how to approach the number partitioning problem like a problem in statistical mechanics. He then showed that there was a phase transition in this problem and explained how the effects of working with finite numbers of numbers effected the properties of this transition. Now, Mertens approached this problem with all the tools and lore of statistical physics. These tools involved many things that physicists were confortable with, including, methods which physicists love known as approximations.
So it might seem that the story would end here. Mertens had shown that there was a phase transition in the problem, identified where and how this phase transition occured, and triumphantly explained scaling effects near where the phase transition occured. But, no! Why? Well because while Merten had “shown” these results, he had done so using a approximations which physicists were confortable with, but which were not “proven!”
So physicists reading about this would probably have been happy. But not so, for those who work in the clan of computer science! There the approximation was considered an abomination, something so disgusting and foul that it should be banished to the far ends of the earth (no one apparently having told the computer science clan that the world was not flat 😉 )
Thus a brave group of computer scientists/mathematicians/mathematical physicists decided to see if what these crazy physicists were saying with their abominable approximation was true. And by true, they meant provably true. So Borgs, Chayes and Pittel (the brave group), in a beautiful forty page paper, investigated and proved results about the phase transition in the integer partitioning problem. And what did they discover? They discovered, to their surprise, that Merten’s results, even using his abominable approximation, were correct! While he had made an abominable approximation, Merten’s result agreed with the exact result (in appropriate infinite instance size limits.) Those damn physicists had invoked an unproven and abominable approximation and still gotten the right answer! (As a side note the work of BCP also pens down the finite size effects in a rigorous manner.)

“Wake up Computer Scientist!”
“Oh, I’ve been awake. I just like to rest my eyes when I’m listening to stories. It helps me visualize the characters involved. For the physicists I was imagining a moocow.” [ed note: this joke only makes sense if you know where the first line of this post comes from. This is an example of a obsoke: a joke so obscure that prehaps only the author of the joke understands why it is funny.]
“So what do you think about my story?”
“I think that sometimes, even people like you Physicist, can do produce profound results even though you can’t prove why they work. It also seems that you don’t care so much if something is proven as much as if it agrees with your experience. I could never live that way, of course. It seems, so, so…uncertain!”
“Which reminds me, Computer Scientist, have you ever heard of this thing called quantum mechanics?”
“No, what is that? Some kind of car repair shop?”
“Heh. Let’s go to the pub and get some beer and then, boy do I have a story for you….”