It seems we’re never satisfied without a technological revolution on the horizon.
Right now, after hundreds of billions of dollars have poured into Artificial Intelligence, a consensus is growing: we are in a bubble. The largest companies and a swarm of startups are still inflating it, of course. And since no one can reliably predict the pop, we’re all just watching it grow, knowing it will burst sooner or later, but clueless about the exact moment.
This is how technology cycles often work. A “winter” follows a boom. When the AI winter eventually arrives, as it will again, the market, the media, and our collective imagination will go hunting for the next big thing. We’ll need a new story to tell, a new future to sell.
What will it be? Personally I will bet in a refined version of Augmented Reality glasses, or another attempt to rebrand the metaverse (Meta is working hard on this to happen). These are strong candidates for the next wave of exaggerated claims.
But today, I want to talk about a different technology. One that is still nascent, yet is already generating some of the most astonishing and poorly understood claims I’ve seen. I’m talking about quantum computing. The hype is already beginning, and it’s a perfect case study in how promising ideas get twisted into fantasy long before they can become reality.
Meet the Candidate: What Even Is a Quantum Computer?
A classical computer, like the one you’re using right now (even if you are in a phone or tablet), is a profoundly complex but ultimately simple-minded machine. It thinks in something called bits. A bit is a switch that can be either 0 or 1. Every photo, song, and word on your screen is built from immense sequences of these 0s and 1s. The computer moves them around according to strict, deterministic rules. You can, in principle, build one out of gears and levers. If you have seen the movie ‘the imitation game’, the large machine is an early computer.
A quantum computer is different. Despite the claims, it’s not just a faster version of your laptop. It’s a different kind of machine altogether. It uses the bizarre rules of the quantum world to perform calculations. Its basic unit is the quantum bit, or qubit.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting, but not supernatural. A qubit isn’t just a 0 or a 1. Thanks to a property called superposition, it can be both 0 and 1 at the same time. It’s like a spinning coin where it’s not just heads or tails, but in a state that encompasses both possibilities, like falling on the edge.
When you have many qubits that are linked, or entangled, this “blending” power grows exponentially. A handful of qubits can represent a vast number of potential combinations of 0s and 1s simultaneously.
This allows a quantum computer to explore many paths in a calculation at once. For certain very specific, very complex problems, like simulating the behavior of molecules for drug discovery, or breaking certain types of modern encryption, this theoretical advantage is massive. A large-scale quantum computer could solve these problems exponentially faster than any classical supercomputer.
However, this power is not universal. It’s not a turbo button for all computing. Your word processor and web browser won’t run any faster at all. The quantum computer is a specialist, a master of a narrow but profound set of tasks.
And right now, they are small prototypes, deeply experimental. We are still in the era of proving the principle, not building the product. We have a rough map of where we might be able to go, but the vehicle to get us there is still being invented.
The Hype Is Alive and Well: A Case Study in Nonsense
Now that we have a rough idea of what a quantum computer actually is, let’s look at how it’s being sold to the public. This is where the real magic happens, the magic of marketing.
I recently came across a sentence that is a perfect specimen of the hype:
“Quantum computers hold immense promise because of their ability to tap into parallel universes, which boosts their computational power exponentially.”
Let’s take this sentence apart as it’s the only way to see how much empty space is inside.
“hold immense promise”: This is the classic opener. It sounds impressive but means nothing. Everything “holds promise” until it fails. “Immense” is just a sparkly word to distract you. It’s like saying a child has the “immense promise” to become an astronaut. It might be true, but it’s not a fact, it’s a wish.
“their ability to tap into parallel universes”: What? Let’s be clear: we have zero evidence that parallel universes exist. The idea is a fascinating speculative concept in theoretical physics, not an engineering tool. And what does “tap into” even mean? Are we drilling a hole into another dimension? Is there a cosmic straw we’re using to sip computational power? The phrase is so vague it’s meaningless, designed to sound profound without saying anything real.
“boosts their computational power exponentially”: Even if we could “tap into” other universes (we can’t), why would that automatically make a calculation faster? It’s like saying you can solve a crossword puzzle faster by “tapping into” a library in another city. The connection is never explained because it can’t be.
This one sentence is a masterpiece of confusion. It takes a complex scientific idea, misunderstands it completely, and dresses it up in the language of fantasy. And the scary part? This wasn’t from some obscure blog; it was reported in multiple, seemingly legitimate places.
This is how hype begins. Not with a lie, but with a seductive, science-shaped story that is far more exciting than the complicated truth.
Where the Nonsense Comes From: A Tale of Two Interpretations
So, where does this “parallel universes” idea even come from? It’s not something a quantum engineer would say while building a machine. To find the source, we have to take a quick detour into the philosophy of physics.
You see, the mathematics of quantum mechanics is incredibly powerful and accurate. It predicts the outcomes of experiments with stunning precision. Physicist have spent more than 100 years trying to disprove quantum mechanics, but the theory holds. The problem is when we ask, “what is really happening?” as we step into the realm of interpretations.
An interpretation is a mental model, a story we tell ourselves to make sense of the math. It’s important to remember that these are not proven theories; they are frameworks for thinking. The math works regardless of which story you prefer.
The “parallel universes” idea is lifted directly from one such story, called the Many-Worlds Interpretation. In this view, every time a quantum event has multiple possible outcomes, the universe doesn’t just pick one. Instead, it splits, and both outcomes happen, each in its own newly branched universe.
It’s a wild, mind-bending idea. But here’s the crucial part that gets lost in the hype: This is an interpretation of what the math means, not a description of what the machine does. Even the word ‘universe’ may be defined in a particular way that could be different as how we often understand it. This is often done in science, specially in math and logic, as we need to minimize the potential for confusion.
The more common and traditional story is the Copenhagen Interpretation. Formulated by pioneers like Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg, it essentially suggest to not worry about what’s really happening. The superposition is a description of possibilities, and when we measure it, it “collapses” into a single, definite reality. This is the interpretation that you learn in a physics degree.
The problem isn’t that people have different interpretations. The problem is when a speculative, philosophical idea is ripped from its context and sold as the operational manual for a piece of technology. It’s like explaining how a car engine works by saying it’s powered by the “spirit of motion.” It sounds poetic, but it won’t help you fix a flat tire.
The Inevitable Hype Cycle: From Potential to Panic
Let’s project this forward. Imagine that in a decade or so, a lab announces a breakthrough: a quantum computer with a few hundred stable qubits. It’s a monumental scientific achievement, but still a specialized instrument, even if robust and not requiring near-absolute-zero temperatures to function.
The public reaction, however, will likely be a tidal wave of insanity.
Headlines will scream that the “Quantum Revolution” is here. Pundits will claim your laptop is now obsolete. Startups will emerge, promising “quantum-powered” everything: from optimizing your grocery deliveries to finding your soulmate. You’ll hear that all encryption is broken (it won’t be) and that we can now simulate entire biological organisms (we won’t).
What you won’t hear is a simple, honest answer to the question: “Why would I need one?”
The truth is, for 99.9% of what people use computers for these days: writing documents, browsing the web, watching videos of cats, a quantum computer is not just overkill; it’s useless. It would be like using a nuclear reactor to bake a pizza. It’s the wrong tool for the job, and all your software is built for the classical tool.
This frenzy won’t be new. It’s the same pattern we’ve seen before. It’s the pressure to upgrade your phone every year, even if your old one works perfectly. It’s the belief that having the latest, most powerful gadget is a necessity, even when your actual needs haven’t changed.
The quantum hype will be this phenomenon on steroids, fueled by a fundamental misunderstanding of what the technology is. People will be sold on the fantasy of infinite parallel computing power, not the reality of a delicate machine solving specific, complex problems in a lab. The gap between the sensational claims and the practical, incremental progress will be vast, and in that gap, the hype will flourish.
And perhaps, decades from now, quantum computers will indeed become our primary machines. But that transition, if it happens at all, won’t be a sudden flip of a switch. It will be a slow, deliberate migration, built on years of painstaking progress and gradual integration, much like the world’s shift from offline to online: a monumental change in hindsight, but a slow, almost imperceptible evolution in the moment.
The Antidote to Hype: A Call for Skepticism
So, how do we navigate this coming storm of exaggeration? The solution isn’t to ignore new technologies, but to approach them with a healthy dose of the most powerful tool in science: skepticism.
The rule is simple: demand evidence, not just excitement.
When someone claims a quantum computer can “tap into parallel universes” or will “soon revolutionize your home,” ask the simple, pointed questions that a scientist would:
“Can you show me?” If it’s a real capability, there should be a demonstration or a peer-reviewed paper, not just a press release.
“How, specifically, does it work?” The explanation should involve qubits, superposition, and algorithms, not cosmic metaphors.
“When, and for what?” Vague promises of a future revolution are meaningless. What specific problem will it solve, and on what timeline?
This isn’t about being a cynic. It’s about holding people accountable for the words they use and the claims they make. It’s about respecting the technology enough to understand its true potential and its very real limitations.
By doing this, we do more than just protect our wallets from bad investments. We protect our own sanity from the exhausting cycle of boom and bust. We foster an environment where real, hard-won progress is celebrated for what it is, rather than being drowned out by the noise of what it might be.
The future of quantum computing is genuinely exciting. But its true story, one of careful science, brilliant engineering, and incremental discovery, is far more interesting than any hyped-up fairy tale about parallel universes. Let’s make sure we’re listening to the right one.