The unresolved storm swirling around Microsoft’s quantum computing claims has become a microcosm of modern scientific debate—unfolding at the loaded intersection of big tech ambition, academic rivalry, and the enigmatic frontier of quantum physics. Nearly half a decade after the publication of a landmark Microsoft-backed paper in Science, questions of data transparency and research integrity continue to spark heated exchanges among leading physicists, journal editors, and the world’s largest technology companies.
In March 2020, Science published “Flux-induced topological superconductivity in full-shell nanowires.” Heralded as a breakthrough, the paper described experiments with nano-scale wires on semiconductors, suggesting a path to create topological quantum computing devices—systems theoretically capable of harnessing elusive Majorana particles to power robust quantum machines. The discovery, Microsoft asserted through press releases and subsequent patents, was a precursor for the company's so-called Majorana 1 quantum chip.
Notably, Majoranas hold a mythical status in the fast-evolving realm of quantum computing. If realized and reliably manipulated, these particles should enable quantum computers far less susceptible to errors—a vital step toward making useful quantum devices. Microsoft’s work, therefore, stood as both an academic revelation and a linchpin in its quantum computing business strategy.
Yet, beneath the accolades, dissent fermented. Within months, prominent physicists led by Sergey Frolov (University of Pittsburgh) and Vincent Mourik (Forschungszentrum Jülich) began scrutinizing the Microsoft team’s claims. By July 2021, Science had placed an Editorial Expression of Concern (EEoC) on the paper, signaling unresolved doubts—primarily about how representative or selective the published data truly was.
Charles Marcus, who served as scientific director of the Microsoft Quantum Lab at the University of Copenhagen, offered an almost weary sense of vindication: “It’s nice to be exonerated... I want those four years back.” For Marcus and his camp, this is the long-overdue closing of an unnecessarily contentious chapter, with both the scientific record and their reputations intact. He insists there were “no incorrect statements in the paper… The expression of concern [was based on] ‘you didn’t describe in detail how you tuned up the device.’ That’s now added information.”
But for those who initially flagged the controversy, chief among them Sergey Frolov, the outcome feels more like institutional evasion than genuine reckoning. Frolov, who regards the paper’s claims as fundamentally unsupported by the data, argues nothing less than retraction would be appropriate. “Problems in the paper undermine the conclusion,” Frolov told The Register, contending that Science’s decision sets a troubling precedent—rolling back a visible warning meant to alert the community to “a pattern of problematic research.”
Microsoft’s claims staked much of their credibility on the successful manipulation of Majorana particles, coding them as proof that a fundamentally new kind of qubit—one naturally resilient to errors—was within reach. But creating and confirming Majoranas in laboratory conditions is notoriously difficult. The skepticism around the Science paper deepened because it wasn’t the only Microsoft-backed project to encounter such pushback.
Nature, for example, previously retracted two papers from the Microsoft-affiliated Delft lab for improperly substantiated evidence of Majoranas. Another Science paper was retracted in 2022, also for data irregularities, and several other papers dealing with these particles have faced difficulties in replication, expressions of concern, or outright controversy.
Their analysis of the newly released information failed to support Microsoft’s sweeping conclusions. Frolov and Mourik conceived an extensive critique, now publicly available, which provided the foundation for the EEoC. Most damning was their claim that parallel experiments—conducted on similar wires by separate groups and shared in far greater volume—demonstrated no evidence of Majorana behavior. “This move is almost unprecedented… two of the highest impact journals go out of their way to debunk a claim,” Frolov said, referencing these negative replications published in both Science and Nature.
Moreover, Frolov argued that Microsoft’s selective publication amounted not simply to overenthusiastic marketing but to a fundamental distortion of the experimental record, “altering how an expert would interpret the data.” Several other critics, including Henry Legg from the University of St Andrews and, reportedly, former Amazon and Google quantum chief Simone Severini, shared doubts—Legg memorably quipped that after hundreds of millions in investment, both he and Microsoft had created “the exact same number of topological qubits: zero.”
Meanwhile, Michael Manfra, director of Purdue Quantum Science and Engineering Institute—and by his own admission, a continuing Microsoft collaborator—echoes this sentiment, acknowledging that while “no paper is flawless,” no evidence of malfeasance or data manipulation was found in the contested Science publication. “At the end of the day, the conclusions were substantiated after this very rigorous review process,” he asserts, framing the criticism as having strayed beyond usual scientific discourse.
Such allegations ring especially harsh in light of a previous major retraction: in 2018, Nature withdrew a paper on “Quantized Majorana conductance,” co-authored by Leo Kouwenhoven, Marcus’s predecessor as Microsoft’s quantum lead in Europe—and, not incidentally, Frolov and Mourik’s former advisor. In that instance, TU Delft’s institutional news confirmed Kouwenhoven himself acknowledged the errors. As Marcus recounts, “they had a lot of fun getting their advisor's paper retracted, and they did it... Then they went after the next big guy in the field, who's me.”
Marcus also raises broader worries about chilling effects on the field. Persistent, visible disputes and accusations, he claims, have soured graduate students and dissuaded research groups from touching the Majorana project altogether. “Basically in the public sector, that field has died... Nobody will touch it because they don’t want to get attacked.”
That tension is magnified in quantum computing, where results are rarely immediately auditable by outsiders and commercial hype can quickly outpace empirical certainty. The risk is that a relaxation of documentary standards for experimental reporting—especially by dominant industry players—will further muddy what is already a notoriously speculative area of science.
At the same time, a relentless adversarial posture from critics, however well-meaning, risks stifling bold (if imperfect) advances, deterring early-career researchers, or degenerating into career-damaging vendettas.
Nevertheless, the stakes are existential for Microsoft’s ambitions. Its strategy hinges not just on building quantum hardware, but on building confidence in its particular approach—Majorana-based topological qubits—over alternatives. Any undermining of that narrative, even at the level of technical footnotes or retracted figures, has ripple effects on investor confidence, recruitment, and partnerships vital to long-term survival in an industry replete with more promises than products.
Cautious optimism might be warranted here—acknowledging that both excess hype and relentless adversarial scrutiny are dangerous in isolation. The credibility of quantum computing will not stand or fall on a single disputed paper, but on a pattern of transparency, reproducibility, and a willingness to own failures as well as successes. The real test is not how journals correct individual publications, but whether the claims and hardware ultimately withstand exposure to an ever-widening circle of independent, adversarial verification.
For the broader community of physicists, investors, and technology-watchers, this case stands as a reminder: progress on quantum computing will demand skepticism and optimism in equal measure—matched by a culture of transparency that resists both hype and backlash. Only then will the field move past bitter disputes and towards the breakthroughs necessary to justify the extraordinary hopes pinned on quantum technology.
Source: theregister.com Bitter fight over 2020 Microsoft quantum paper continues
In March 2020, Science published “Flux-induced topological superconductivity in full-shell nanowires.” Heralded as a breakthrough, the paper described experiments with nano-scale wires on semiconductors, suggesting a path to create topological quantum computing devices—systems theoretically capable of harnessing elusive Majorana particles to power robust quantum machines. The discovery, Microsoft asserted through press releases and subsequent patents, was a precursor for the company's so-called Majorana 1 quantum chip.Notably, Majoranas hold a mythical status in the fast-evolving realm of quantum computing. If realized and reliably manipulated, these particles should enable quantum computers far less susceptible to errors—a vital step toward making useful quantum devices. Microsoft’s work, therefore, stood as both an academic revelation and a linchpin in its quantum computing business strategy.
Yet, beneath the accolades, dissent fermented. Within months, prominent physicists led by Sergey Frolov (University of Pittsburgh) and Vincent Mourik (Forschungszentrum Jülich) began scrutinizing the Microsoft team’s claims. By July 2021, Science had placed an Editorial Expression of Concern (EEoC) on the paper, signaling unresolved doubts—primarily about how representative or selective the published data truly was.
Settling Up—or Sweeping Aside?
Four years later, Science is preparing to remove the EEoC, replacing it with a comparatively mild correction: a statement that the researchers didn’t provide a “full description” of device tuning procedures nor a comprehensive catalog of data. On the surface, this amounts to a minor procedural issue—one seemingly cleared by internal and university investigations, all of which reportedly found no evidence of outright misconduct or data falsification by lead author Charles Marcus and his co-authors.Charles Marcus, who served as scientific director of the Microsoft Quantum Lab at the University of Copenhagen, offered an almost weary sense of vindication: “It’s nice to be exonerated... I want those four years back.” For Marcus and his camp, this is the long-overdue closing of an unnecessarily contentious chapter, with both the scientific record and their reputations intact. He insists there were “no incorrect statements in the paper… The expression of concern [was based on] ‘you didn’t describe in detail how you tuned up the device.’ That’s now added information.”
But for those who initially flagged the controversy, chief among them Sergey Frolov, the outcome feels more like institutional evasion than genuine reckoning. Frolov, who regards the paper’s claims as fundamentally unsupported by the data, argues nothing less than retraction would be appropriate. “Problems in the paper undermine the conclusion,” Frolov told The Register, contending that Science’s decision sets a troubling precedent—rolling back a visible warning meant to alert the community to “a pattern of problematic research.”
The Supremely High Stakes of Quantum Claims
The technical nuances at the core of this battle are deeply entangled with quantum computing’s larger narrative. Industry-wide, no company—Microsoft included—can currently demonstrate universally useful quantum computation. While competitors like IBM, Google, and others have publicly demoed working qubits, these rely on well-characterized physics and still fall far short of practical applications. “You don’t think your microwave oven is a fraud because you can put your mac and cheese in it and it cooks,” Frolov points out. Quantum computing, by contrast, remains largely unverifiable to end-users; vendor claims often escape the type of instant validation that defines consumer technology.Microsoft’s claims staked much of their credibility on the successful manipulation of Majorana particles, coding them as proof that a fundamentally new kind of qubit—one naturally resilient to errors—was within reach. But creating and confirming Majoranas in laboratory conditions is notoriously difficult. The skepticism around the Science paper deepened because it wasn’t the only Microsoft-backed project to encounter such pushback.
Nature, for example, previously retracted two papers from the Microsoft-affiliated Delft lab for improperly substantiated evidence of Majoranas. Another Science paper was retracted in 2022, also for data irregularities, and several other papers dealing with these particles have faced difficulties in replication, expressions of concern, or outright controversy.
The Anatomy of Scientific Skepticism
At its heart, the dispute revolves around data transparency and reproducibility—two pillars of scientific progress. Frolov, alongside Mourik, asserts that the original 2020 Science paper relied on “cherry-picked” data. As he recounts, requests for comprehensive data were repeatedly denied until formal pressure was brought to bear by Science’s editorial team, resulting in a supplemental 50 MB of data—“perhaps a day worth of data-taking.”Their analysis of the newly released information failed to support Microsoft’s sweeping conclusions. Frolov and Mourik conceived an extensive critique, now publicly available, which provided the foundation for the EEoC. Most damning was their claim that parallel experiments—conducted on similar wires by separate groups and shared in far greater volume—demonstrated no evidence of Majorana behavior. “This move is almost unprecedented… two of the highest impact journals go out of their way to debunk a claim,” Frolov said, referencing these negative replications published in both Science and Nature.
Moreover, Frolov argued that Microsoft’s selective publication amounted not simply to overenthusiastic marketing but to a fundamental distortion of the experimental record, “altering how an expert would interpret the data.” Several other critics, including Henry Legg from the University of St Andrews and, reportedly, former Amazon and Google quantum chief Simone Severini, shared doubts—Legg memorably quipped that after hundreds of millions in investment, both he and Microsoft had created “the exact same number of topological qubits: zero.”
Behind-the-Scenes Machinations and Fractured Relationships
The professional drama at play is as personal as it is scientific, with both camps accusing the other of overstepping professional boundaries. Marcus characterizes the years-long campaign by Frolov and Mourik as a disruption bordering on harassment—asserting their tactics included direct complaints at conferences, outreach to funding agencies, and social media campaigns targeting his team personally. “They really want to shut down a field,” he told The Register.Meanwhile, Michael Manfra, director of Purdue Quantum Science and Engineering Institute—and by his own admission, a continuing Microsoft collaborator—echoes this sentiment, acknowledging that while “no paper is flawless,” no evidence of malfeasance or data manipulation was found in the contested Science publication. “At the end of the day, the conclusions were substantiated after this very rigorous review process,” he asserts, framing the criticism as having strayed beyond usual scientific discourse.
Such allegations ring especially harsh in light of a previous major retraction: in 2018, Nature withdrew a paper on “Quantized Majorana conductance,” co-authored by Leo Kouwenhoven, Marcus’s predecessor as Microsoft’s quantum lead in Europe—and, not incidentally, Frolov and Mourik’s former advisor. In that instance, TU Delft’s institutional news confirmed Kouwenhoven himself acknowledged the errors. As Marcus recounts, “they had a lot of fun getting their advisor's paper retracted, and they did it... Then they went after the next big guy in the field, who's me.”
Marcus also raises broader worries about chilling effects on the field. Persistent, visible disputes and accusations, he claims, have soured graduate students and dissuaded research groups from touching the Majorana project altogether. “Basically in the public sector, that field has died... Nobody will touch it because they don’t want to get attacked.”
Pattern or Precedent? Risks for Scientific Publishing
The resolution of this controversy—Science’s decision to swap a strong expression of community warning for a technical correction—poses deeper questions about how scientific journals handle high-stakes disputes, especially when commercial interests are involved. According to Frolov, this marks the first known instance of a leading journal rolling back a previously issued EEoC, potentially softening critical scrutiny just as quantum computing claims are entering public and political debate.That tension is magnified in quantum computing, where results are rarely immediately auditable by outsiders and commercial hype can quickly outpace empirical certainty. The risk is that a relaxation of documentary standards for experimental reporting—especially by dominant industry players—will further muddy what is already a notoriously speculative area of science.
At the same time, a relentless adversarial posture from critics, however well-meaning, risks stifling bold (if imperfect) advances, deterring early-career researchers, or degenerating into career-damaging vendettas.
The Broader Quantum Computing Landscape
Microsoft is by no means alone in contending with the harsh realities of quantum’s experimental unpredictability. IBM, Google, D-Wave, IonQ, and other players have all faced their share of skepticism, both technical and ethical. The theoretical promise of quantum supremacy—outperforming classical computers in any practical task—remains, for now, out of reach for all comers. Most “breakthroughs” remain tightly circumscribed, performed in rarefied lab settings, and subject to methodological debate. Criticisms of cherry-picking, irreproducibility, or exaggerated claims echo throughout the field.Nevertheless, the stakes are existential for Microsoft’s ambitions. Its strategy hinges not just on building quantum hardware, but on building confidence in its particular approach—Majorana-based topological qubits—over alternatives. Any undermining of that narrative, even at the level of technical footnotes or retracted figures, has ripple effects on investor confidence, recruitment, and partnerships vital to long-term survival in an industry replete with more promises than products.
Navigating Uncertainty: Scientific Progress in the Hype Age
Despite the bitter undertones and unresolved disagreements, both sides nominally champion a version of scientific openness—even if they differ on the means and motives. Microsoft’s public stance, conveyed through company spokespeople, is that “discourse and skepticism are all part of the scientific process… we are committed to continued open discussion and engagement on our research, so that everyone can build on what others have discovered and learned.” The company, for all the bruising, continues to publish Majorana-related work.Cautious optimism might be warranted here—acknowledging that both excess hype and relentless adversarial scrutiny are dangerous in isolation. The credibility of quantum computing will not stand or fall on a single disputed paper, but on a pattern of transparency, reproducibility, and a willingness to own failures as well as successes. The real test is not how journals correct individual publications, but whether the claims and hardware ultimately withstand exposure to an ever-widening circle of independent, adversarial verification.
Key Takeaways for the Quantum Community and Beyond
- Transparency is non-negotiable: When results are seized upon by commercial actors, researchers must practice radical openness—sharing all data, procedures, and rationales, not just the positive outcomes.
- Journals must tread carefully: Expressions of concern and corrections, while appropriate mechanisms, risk being reinterpreted as mere technicalities if not accompanied by explicit discussions of their implications for scientific trust.
- Critics matter, but so do boundaries: While rigorous questioning and independent replication should be encouraged, professional disagreements should not slide into personal animus or harassment—particularly in nascent fields where the loss of a few leading voices can stall progress for years.
- Quantum computing’s prospects remain uncertain: No company’s claims—Microsoft’s included—should be accepted on authority. Only reproducible advances, independently validated, will move the field beyond speculation and towards genuinely transformative technologies.
Conclusion: The Long View
The controversy over Microsoft’s quantum paper is more than a tempest in a teapot; it’s a real-world stress test for how the scientific method adapts to an era of commercial ambition, networking-fueled scrutiny, and social media amplification. While the specific dispute over data disclosure and editorial caution will dominate headlines for weeks to come, the real work—painstaking, adversarial, and public—is just beginning for those hoping to see the dawn of practical quantum computers.For the broader community of physicists, investors, and technology-watchers, this case stands as a reminder: progress on quantum computing will demand skepticism and optimism in equal measure—matched by a culture of transparency that resists both hype and backlash. Only then will the field move past bitter disputes and towards the breakthroughs necessary to justify the extraordinary hopes pinned on quantum technology.
Source: theregister.com Bitter fight over 2020 Microsoft quantum paper continues