There’s a cat in the box with a radioactive source and a poison that will be released when the source (unpredictably) emits radiation. Is the cat dead? Is the cat still alive?
Until the box is actually opened and you can see the answer for yourself, the cat is both alive and dead.
Such has been the state of my love life the past couple of years. And because I’m such a creature of hope, I don’t want to open the box and find out. I could, if I wanted to. My skills of investigation and deduction are impeccable. But this is where that, oh, so ominous line in the Life of Pi finds relevance — “And so it goes with God.”
Between two alternative versions, one depicting the depravity of the human condition, and the other, depicting a magical bond formed with a tiger — I choose the one which comes with zebra stripes and an orangutan named Orange Juice.
The thing about Schrodinger’s Cat is that it doesn’t take into account the life span of the cat. Let’s say the life span of a cat is around 8-10 years. For those years, as long as the cat is in the box and the box remains unopened, it’s both alive and dead. But what of Year 12? Surely, the cat would most likely be dead by then.
For now, though, I’m perfectly comfortable with Schrodinger’s Cat being both alive and dead.