LLMs Can't Jump: The One Move AI Still Can't Pull Off
Today's AI can do the math of a scientific revolution, but it can't have the idea that starts one. A plain-words breakdown of the ICML 2026 position paper.
TL;DR
Today’s AI can do the math of a scientific revolution, but it can’t have the idea that starts one. That’s the whole point of the paper, and this post unpacks why.
- Einstein described discovery as a loop: start from real-world experience, jump to new base rules, then use logic to see what follows.
- AI is a beast at two of the three thinking moves: induction (finding patterns) and deduction (proving things from rules).
- It’s missing the third move: abduction. That’s the jump that invents brand-new rules when there’s almost no data to learn from.
- The paper uses Einstein’s General Relativity as a test case. Verdict: an LLM could plausibly do Einstein’s 1915 math. It could not have had his 1907 idea.
- The proposed fix: give AI a physical world it can poke and play with (interactive world models), not just more text.
The paper: Position: LLMs can’t jump, Tom Zahavy, Google DeepMind, ICML 2026.
Quick thought experiment: send GPT back to 1907
Picture this. We take the best LLM on the planet and drop it in the year 1907. We feed it every physics book, every paper, every letter written so far. Then we ask: “Yo, invent General Relativity.”
Does it cook? The paper says no. Not because the model is dumb. It’s actually elite at most of the work. It’s missing one specific move, and that move is the one that matters most.
Plot twist: the author is not some random AI hater. Tom Zahavy is a researcher at Google DeepMind, and his name is on the AlphaProof paper, the system that reached silver-medal level at the International Math Olympiad. So this is a builder telling us exactly where the wall is. That’s why it’s worth reading.
I’m not going to cover every detail of the paper. I’m zooming in on one idea only: the jump. What it is, why AI can’t do it yet, and what might fix it. Grab a coffee, this one goes deep.
Einstein’s napkin: the E → J → A loop
In 1952 Einstein wrote a letter to his old friend Maurice Solovine. In it he drew a tiny sketch of how new science gets made. Think of it as the system design diagram of discovery. The whole paper is built on top of it.
Here are the parts:
- E = Sense experience. The real world. What you see, feel and measure. The ground floor.
- J = the Jump. A leap from experience up to brand-new base ideas. No step-by-step logic gets you there.
- A = Axioms. The base rules of a theory. The config file that everything else loads from.
- S = Statements. What you can derive from the axioms with pure logic: theorems and predictions.
- Back to E. You test the predictions against the real world. Match? The theory lives. No match? Back to the drawing board.
The key detail is the J arrow. Einstein said there is no logical road from E up to A. And it makes sense: axioms are where logic starts. Logic can’t produce its own starting point. You have to jump.
Dev translation:
- S → E is running your test suite.
- A → S is the code executing.
- E → A is writing the spec for a system nobody has ever built, with no requirements doc. Nobody hands you that. You have to see it.
Hold on to this picture. Every section below is about one arrow in it.
The 3 ways to think, explained like code
There are exactly three thinking moves, and AI has only two of them. The paper borrows this split from the philosopher Charles Peirce, and it maps onto code almost perfectly. Every piece of reasoning juggles three things:
- Rule = the function definition
- Case = the input
- Result = the return value
def api_status(db_is_down): # Rule: if the DB is down, the API returns 500
return 500 if db_is_down else 200
api_status(True) # Case: the DB is down
# -> 500 # Result
Change which two pieces you have and which one you need, and you get three totally different moves:
| Move | You have | You find | Dev version | Can it be wrong? | AI in 2026 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Deduction | Rule + Case | Result | Run the function. DB is down, so the API returns 500. | No, if the rule is right | Crushing it (AlphaProof, Lean, Olympiad gold) |
| Induction | Case + Result | Rule | You saw “DB down + 500” a thousand times, so you write the rule. This is ML training. | Yes, patterns can lie | Mastered. This is literally what an LLM is |
| Abduction | Rule + Result | Case, or a brand-new Rule | Prod throws weird errors at 3 a.m. You guess a cause. | Yes, it’s a bet | Missing. This is the jump |
Quick vibe check on each:
- Deduction is the only move that guarantees truth. If the rule and the input are right, the output is right. Zero creativity, 100% safe.
- Induction builds rules from piles of examples. Super powerful, but it needs data, lots of it. No data, no rule.
- Abduction invents an explanation for something surprising. It’s a creative leap. It can be wrong. But it’s the only move that adds a truly new idea to the system.
Two flavors of abduction (this matters a lot)
Not all guessing is equal. There are two levels:
- Picking from the menu. You see the symptoms and choose the most likely known cause. “500 errors again? It’s the DB, bro.” LLMs are lowkey decent at this, because the menu is in their training data.
- Cooking a dish that isn’t on any menu. The right cause has never been written down by anyone. You have to invent it from scratch. That’s Einstein’s move. And that’s the one the paper says LLMs can’t do.
So when someone says “but ChatGPT debugged my code by guessing the cause,” that’s flavor 1. The paper is talking about flavor 2.
Boss fight #1: “Just compress the data, bro”
Induction can’t find the jump, because in 1907 there was no error to learn from. Let’s see why.
A popular idea in AI says discovery is compression. Jürgen Schmidhuber argued that the joy of science is finding a shorter program that explains your data. Find the pattern, squeeze the data, new law unlocked. That’s pure induction.
To be fair, it works when data is rich. Algorithms have pulled differential equations straight out of measurements. An “AI Physicist” re-discovered conservation laws from simulated motion. Real W’s.
Now look at Newton’s report card in 1907:
- Newton’s gravity worked insanely well. Planets, tides, cannonballs, all good.
- The fact that every object falls at the same rate (inertial mass = gravitational mass) was checked by Newton to about 1 part in 1,000. Eötvös later pushed it to about 1 part in a billion.
- There was just one known bug: Mercury’s orbit slowly drifts more than Newton predicts.
- And even that bug had a patch. Scientists guessed a hidden planet near the Sun, nicknamed Vulcan, was pulling on Mercury.
Now think like a training loop:
loss ≈ 0 # Newton fits almost everything
gradient ≈ 0 # nothing pushes the model to change
optimizer: "ok, I'm chilling"
No error signal means no gradient. No gradient means no reason to rebuild space and time. The paper’s point is simple: an inductive AI in 1907 would look at Newton, see near-zero loss, and do nothing.
The Vulcan move = the hacky if statement
Every dev has seen this. A test fails in one weird edge case. Instead of rethinking the design, someone adds one more if:
if planet == "Mercury":
orbit += vulcan_correction # tests are green again, ship it
Cheapest fix. Tests pass. Totally wrong. That’s what a compression machine prefers, because adding one parameter is “simpler” than rewriting the whole theory.
Real refactors are scary for the same reason: the code gets messier before it gets cleaner. General Relativity was exactly like that. To get there you first have to make physics MORE complex (curved geometry, ten tangled equations) before it turns elegant. A system that always climbs toward “simpler” will never walk into that valley on purpose.
The proof came later
The data that proved Einstein right showed up after the theory. Eddington measured starlight bending around the Sun in 1919. Much later, GPS satellites needed relativity corrections to stay accurate. You can’t compress data that doesn’t exist yet.
One more problem: even when data exists, pattern machines can learn shortcuts. The paper points to research (Vafa et al., 2025) where foundation models predict the data well but build a broken picture of the world inside. Right answers, wrong reasons.
Boss fight #2: “Fine, just give it a theorem prover”
Deduction can’t find the jump either, because deduction needs the axioms as input. It can’t produce them.
And here AI is honestly cracked. Proof assistants like Lean now come with huge math libraries. AlphaProof hit silver-medal level at the 2024 Math Olympiad. In 2025 several systems reached gold level, and one (Aristotle) produced verified solutions to open research questions.
The paper is generous here. It says: give a modern LLM the exact assumptions Einstein had in 1915, and it could plausibly derive General Relativity. Working out Mercury’s orbit from the finished equations is a checkable logic task.
Story time: the bug that cost Einstein two years
This part reads like a production incident.
- 1912–1913. Einstein teams up with his mathematician friend Marcel Grossmann. Grossmann finds the right math object for curved spacetime (the Riemann curvature tensor). He even builds something very close to the final answer.
- The test. Any new theory must shrink back to Newton’s simple gravity when gravity is weak and nothing moves fast. That’s the backward-compatibility check.
- The fatal error. Grossmann concludes the candidate fails that check. It didn’t. The bug was a wrong assumption about what a “static” gravity field looks like. The math was fine.
- The rollback. They throw away the correct path. Einstein ships the 1913 “Entwurf” (German for “sketch”): ten messy equations with no clean geometric meaning.
- Two years of grind. By 1915 the evidence piles up. The Entwurf can’t explain Mercury. It can’t handle rotation. Einstein goes back to his 1912 idea: the theory must work in every coordinate system.
- November 1915 speedrun. Racing the mathematician David Hilbert, Einstein sends a new paper to the Prussian Academy every week for four weeks. On November 18 his equations correctly predict Mercury’s orbit. On November 25 he publishes the final field equations.
This is the final boss equation:
The left side is the shape of spacetime (curvature). The right side is the stuff in it (matter and energy). Stuff bends the shape, and the shape tells stuff how to move.
Why this still doesn’t count as a jump
The paper even thinks AI could have caught Grossmann’s mistake, by testing subsets of the axioms one by one. Basically git bisect for assumptions. Nice.
But look closely at what failed in 1913. The logic was fine. The axioms were wrong. A deduction engine is a compiler. It compiles your spec perfectly. It cannot tell you what the spec should be.
Two more limits:
- Spotting the bug ≠ writing the fix. An AI could scan the literature and flag that Maxwell’s constant speed of light clashes with Newton’s absolute time, like a linter flagging buggy code. Choosing the right new axioms to resolve the clash is a different job.
- No target ticket. A theorem prover chases a stated conjecture: “prove X.” Einstein had no X. He was building a model of reality from scratch. Deduction only works downstream, after someone decides what to build.
The main event: what the jump actually looks like
Einstein got his key axiom not from data and not from logic, but from imagining a feeling. This is the heart of the paper, so let’s go slow.
1907: the happiest thought
Einstein is writing a long review article about his relativity theory. Most of physics fits in nicely. Gravity doesn’t. Then an idea hits him that he later called “the happiest thought of my life”:
In plain words: a person falling freely from a roof does not feel their own weight.
In their small bubble, while they fall, gravity is just… gone. Drop your keys while you fall, and the keys float next to you.
Level up: the elevator
Now put that feeling in a closed box with no windows.
- Scene A: the box sits on Earth. You let go of an apple and a hammer. Both drop to the floor with the same acceleration. Normal gravity.
- Scene B: the box is in deep space, far from any planet. A rocket pulls it “up” with a steady push. You let go of the apple and the hammer. From your view, they “fall” to the floor at the same rate. Really, the floor is rushing up to meet them.
From inside the box, you cannot tell A from B. No experiment in the box can tell them apart. Same feeling in your feet, same falling objects.
The jump
A normal person says: “Huh, funny coincidence.” Einstein said: if no experiment can ever tell them apart, then they are the same thing. Gravity and acceleration are one phenomenon, not two.
That’s the Equivalence Principle. It’s an axiom. It’s not derived from anything. It’s a jump.
And here’s the wild part. The fact that everything falls at the same rate was known since Galileo. Newton measured it. For over 200 years it sat in the textbooks as a cute coincidence. Einstein’s jump turned a boring old fact into a deep law of nature. The data was there. The meaning wasn’t.
The two stages of the jump, broken down
The paper splits Einstein’s move into two steps.
Stage 1: Simulate. Invent a scene and run it in your head. Modern AI does something that looks similar: test-time reinforcement learning, where a system invents new versions of a problem and learns from solving them. That trick helped AI crack a famously hard chess puzzle, and it helped AlphaProof reach silver at the Math Olympiad.
But there’s a huge difference. Chess and math variations stay inside fixed rules. Einstein’s variation was not a shuffle of symbols. It was a shuffle of physical experience: the feeling of the floor pushing up, objects falling side by side.
Chess engine: plays brilliantly inside the sandbox. Einstein: rewrote the sandbox’s physics engine.
Stage 2: Abduct. Explain what you just imagined. And here Einstein hit a wall of silence: there were no words for this yet. No existing theory described it. He said himself that words and language didn’t seem to play any role in how he thought.
So what did he use instead? A physical prior. The imagined feeling of being pushed by acceleration matched the remembered feeling of gravity. Same sensation, so same cause. The paper calls this manipulative abduction, a term from the philosopher Lorenzo Magnani. In plain words: thinking by doing.
What the jump paid out
One axiom, tons of free predictions. If gravity is acceleration, then:
- Light bends near heavy objects (confirmed by Eddington in 1919).
- Clocks tick slower in strong gravity (your phone’s GPS corrects for this every day).
That’s the power of a good axiom. One line in the config file, and a whole new world of behavior follows.
Why LLMs can’t jump: all words, no world
An LLM can’t jump because the jump starts from experience, and an LLM has never experienced anything. It only has text.
Think about the word “fall.” An LLM knows “fall” sits close to “gravity,” “apple,” “Newton,” “accelerate.” It knows millions of sentences about falling. But it never felt that stomach drop when a fast elevator starts moving down. For the model, words only point to other words.
There’s a classic name for this. Philosophers call it the Chinese Room: a person in a room follows a rulebook to answer Chinese messages perfectly, without understanding a single character. The scientist Stevan Harnad called the deeper issue the symbol grounding problem: symbols that never connect to the real things they stand for. The paper calls LLMs “high-dimensional Chinese Rooms.” Fluent in the language of physics, zero contact with physics itself.
Einstein made the same point decades ago. In his view, concepts and logic only get real meaning through their link to sense experience. Cut that link and you’re just moving symbols around.
Put the LLM on Einstein’s napkin
Here’s the cleanest way to see it. Everything an LLM trains on is text. And text is already the top half of Einstein’s diagram: concepts (A) and statements (S) that humans wrote down. Even a description of an experience is someone else’s summary of it, not the experience.
So the LLM is stuck upstairs. It can run the A → S arrow all day: derive, prove, remix. But the J arrow starts downstairs, at E. No E, no runway. No runway, no jump.
Other big names point at the same gap. Fei-Fei Li argues AI is missing spatial intelligence. Yann LeCun has long argued LLMs lack a real world model. And LLMs still fail some spatial puzzles that are trivial for toddlers.
Even the fanciest AI scientists hit this wall
The paper looks at the most advanced automated-discovery systems right now:
- Sakana’s AI Scientist runs the full research loop on its own. But it recombines existing concepts to push a metric. That’s a very sophisticated Chinese Room.
- DeepMind’s AlphaEvolve is a beast at optimization. But it needs a score to climb, a gradient. Einstein had no score. Newton’s “loss” was already near zero.
Both are amazing inside a paradigm. Neither can leave it.
So how do we teach AI to jump?
The paper’s bet: give AI a world model, an internal simulation of physics that it can act inside, not just read about. Basically, give the LLM a downstairs.
But not every world model counts. The paper draws a hard line between watching and doing. Borrowing the “ladder of causation” from the computer scientist Judea Pearl, you can see it as three levels:
| Level | What the AI can do | Example | Enough to jump? |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1. Watch | Predict the next frame of a video | Video models like Veo | No. The apple falls because falling is the most common next frame in its training videos, not because it understands gravity |
| 2. Do | Take an action and see the world react | DeepMind’s Genie, a world you can control | Getting close. This is “thinking by doing” |
| 3. Imagine “what if” | Change the world on purpose and run it | “What happens if I cut the elevator cable?” | Yes. This is Einstein’s thought experiment |
The paper’s line is sharp: to copy Einstein’s elevator, an AI can’t just watch a video of an elevator. It must be able to grab control of the simulation and cut the cable itself. And the sim must run on consistent physics in the model’s internal space, not just pretty pixels that look right.
The missing ingredient: strong hunches
There’s one more piece. Einstein’s physical prior didn’t just help him imagine. It helped him filter. Out of a million possible axioms, his gut sense of gravity told him which ones felt right.
The paper notes that many revolutions were driven by strong hunches that came before any math. Kepler was sure, almost mystically, that the Sun sits at the center. So AI may need more than a simulator. It may need strong beliefs about how the world should work, and then use the simulator to test those beliefs.
The full machine loop
Put all of it together and you get a mechanical version of Einstein’s napkin:
Fine print: this is about physics
The author is careful here. The proposal is aimed at the physical sciences, where the thing you study is the real material world. In math or computer science, the “sense experience” might be something else, like a feel for the landscape of formal systems. The need for a jump stays. What you simulate changes with the field.
My take: where the paper might be too strong
I think the paper nails the core idea, but it’s a position paper: one big historical example and a strong argument, not an experiment. So here are four questions worth chewing on before you take it as gospel.
- Was there really “no data”? The equality of the two kinds of mass was measured to about one part in a billion. That is data. Einstein’s move was to take a “coincidence” seriously. Could a model be trained to hunt for unexplained coincidences in old facts? Maybe. Spotting the coincidence still isn’t jumping, but it’s the first step.
- Is human creativity just fancy remixing? Some critics say most “new” human ideas are recombinations of old ones. If that’s true, the gap between remixing and jumping is a matter of degree, and scale might close it. The paper bets it’s a difference in kind. Nobody has proved either side yet.
- Maybe generating isn’t the hard part. Picking is. An LLM can spit out 10,000 thought experiments in a minute. The magic was knowing which one mattered. That taste is exactly what Einstein’s physical prior gave him. So the real missing piece might be a filter, not a generator.
- Maybe AI doesn’t need to jump to be useful. A HackerNoon piece agrees with the limit but argues it’s the wrong focus. Let models do what they’re great at, like digging up the paper from a field you’d never read, and give humans more time for the jump.
Point 4 is the practical one for us devs. Today’s LLM is the best research intern ever built: it reads everything, checks everything, and derives anything you hand it. It just can’t hand you the first axiom. Not yet, anyway.
Cheat sheet
LLMs can run the code of science. They can’t yet write its first line.
| Idea | One-line version |
|---|---|
| Discovery loop | Experience → jump → axioms → logic → predictions → test on experience |
| Induction | Learn a rule from many examples. AI: mastered |
| Deduction | Apply a rule to get a result. AI: crushing it |
| Abduction | Invent a new cause or rule. AI: missing. This is the jump |
| Why induction fails | In 1907 Newton’s loss was about zero, so there was no gradient. It would patch with “Vulcan” |
| Why deduction fails | It needs the axioms as input. It can’t create them |
| How Einstein jumped | Imagined a falling box, felt that two cases are identical, declared them one law |
| Why LLMs can’t | They only have words about the world, never the world |
| Possible fix | Interactive world models where AI can run “what if” experiments |
Sources
- Position: LLMs can’t jump, Tom Zahavy, Google DeepMind. Proceedings of ICML 2026 (PMLR vol. 306).
- LLMs Can’t Jump and They Shouldn’t Have To, HackerNoon.