Perhaps
there is a reason for the existence of incongruities.
Maybe Tertullian was on to something back in AD 200
when he allegedly uttered those fateful words Credo
quia absurdum – I believe because it is
absurd. It’s a test. Or maybe one has to infer
an element of mischief behind the Creation. I sometimes
believe God has a sense of humour. Perhaps the Eyn
Sof – God before He manifested Himself –
likes to tweak or troll the vaulting and self-congratulatory
human tendency to cognitive ascent. But this belongs
to another field of inquiry, Kabbalah or Talmud or
a chapter in Surely You’re Joking, Mister
Feynman! Regrettably, I have no solution, scientific
or otherwise, to the central enigmas we are dealing
with and explored in Part I. I accept Kierkegaard’s
knot.
Thinking
back to the Greek island I told of in that instalment,
I recall a conversation with a friendly restaurateur
whose establishment I would regularly visit. His name
is a common variation of Evangelos, deriving from
the Greek word euángelos meaning “bringing
good news” or “messenger of good news”,
from which we also get “angel”. Vangelis
was not a particularly prepossessing man, his two
major objects of interest being food and profit. One
evening after the diners had gone and we sat together
idly trading stories, he said, “I have something
I’d like to show you.” He led me into
the kitchen and extracted a black-bound tome from
the till. The book was a Greek translation of The
Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross.
“I not only own a restaurant,” Vangelis
confided, “I teach theology on the side.”
The revelation was totally unanticipated. Here in
a shabby little restaurant on the outskirts of town,
another pneme – a “spiritual particle”
as I have named phenomena like this one – had
manifested itself. I sometimes believe certain experiences
that happen by serendipity are somehow intended.
A cause
for incongruities? With life full of serendipitous
experiences and a world of scientifically implausible
possibilities, the author ponders what makes the universe’s
two contrasting and seemingly unbridgeable orders
of reality – quantum and observable –
coexist and function in harmony.
A cause
for incongruities? With life full of serendipitous
experiences and a world of scientifically implausible
possibilities, the author ponders what makes the universe’s
two contrasting and seemingly unbridgeable orders
of reality – quantum and observable –
coexist and function in harmony.
Later
that evening I found myself thinking of the unexpected,
of small everyday omens and anecdotal vectors reminding
us that we live in an unlikely world. It felt like
quantum or spirit was everywhere, which it was. It
made me suspect that the most profound framework underlying
and embracing quantum phenomena, or discontinuities,
is caused by a God who really does play dice (as Einstein
denied), who enjoys bringing odd things spontaneously
together. Maybe the Supreme Being is like a hyper-strong
gravitational field that can cause deviations in,
say, the inverse square law of gravity, a grand designer
who generates asymmetries like two people who have
little in common sharing an unanticipated moment,
or two orders of reality – quantum physics and
the observable world around us – that do not
correspond, are not readily explicable and are so
different they should not even be able to co-exist.
Now, I
simply want to postulate a number of implausible possibilities
to explain such a world: a Creative Intelligence (a)
who exists beyond time and space behind the problematic
Big Bang, which is rationally impossible; (b) who
exists within time and space that provides us with
no absolute point of origin for the act of Creation,
which is chronologically anomalous; and (c) who reconciles
incompatibles according to a quarrelsome bundle of
laws somehow terminating in unity, which is logically
futile. In each of these cases, it is as if we are
beholding a Menger Cube whose volume approaches zero
while its surface area increases without limit.
What are
the three “implausible possibilities”
of cosmology that some have postulated regarding the
nature of a Creative Intelligence?
A PROBLEM
OF GRAVITY
The unruly
fourth force: Isaac Newton (top left) defined gravity
in terms of absolute values for space and time, while
Albert Einstein’s (top right) theory of general
relativity describes the phenomenon as the curvature
of spacetime. Even after Einstein’s great leap,
however, scientists continue to be confounded in trying
to “quantize” gravity and thus bring it
under a Theory of Everything.
The unruly
fourth force: Isaac Newton (top left) defined gravity
in terms of absolute values for space and time, while
Albert Einstein’s (top right) theory of general
relativity describes the phenomenon as the curvature
of spacetime. Even after Einstein’s great leap,
however, scientists continue to be confounded in trying
to “quantize” gravity and thus bring it
under a Theory of Everything.
Admittedly,
I am leaving gravity out of my discussion. (If I were
writing a political dissertation, gravity would be
the conservative who went left.) The Grand Unified
Theory, first proposed by Howard Georgi and Sheldon
Glashow, in its several variants focuses on the three
fundamental physical forces described by the standard
model of particle physics: the strong atomic force,
the weak atomic force and electromagnetism. Should
the fourth force, gravity, one fine day be reunified,
we would have the Theory of Everything, which Stephen
Hawking famously worked on. But this is an enormously
distant goal – if ever reachable.
Gravity
is a major problem in fundamental physics: how to
quantize gravity and thereby bring all the forces
of nature under one theoretical umbrella. To quantize
gravity means to come up with an equation that unifies
quantum physics with Einstein’s theory of general
relativity, which describes gravity not only as a
Newtonian force but in macro-regions as the curvature
of spacetime (it was Einstein, remember, who demonstrated
that time was a dimension, unifying it with space).
As cosmologist Paul M. Sutter of Johns Hopkins University
explains, for quantum mechanics, spacetime is just
a background; physics happens “on top”
of that background. For general relativity, however,
spacetime isn’t a proscenium for the actors;
it is the actor, having been created, as noted, at
or by the Big Bang.
Richard
Panek in The Trouble With Gravity: Solving the
Mystery Beneath Our Feet depicts gravity rather
creepily as the “greatest ghost in the machine.”
It is evident in “the elisions of religion”
and in “the subtlest recesses of our civilizations
and psyche.” But Panek confesses he doesn’t
know what gravity is or what component of the universe
causes it. It has wafted here without a known address;
indeed, many are convinced it is an interloper from
another universe.
Even if
gravity were to yield to the physicists’ reckoning,
a Theory of Everything will not acquire a final mathematical
form until the reciprocity of the two incompatible
sets of laws governing the working of the universe
on both the local and non-local, the deterministic
and the probabilistic levels, is ultimately arrived
at.
One can
see the difficulty. Indeed, the graviton or gravitational
“particle”, a massless vibration of a
closed string as string theory prescribes, is an unruly
character. Obviously, to seek a quantum theory of
gravity, we really need to seek a quantum theory of
spacetime to accommodate general relativity. Not so
easy. In any scenario, gravitational fields would
have to be quantized before unifying progress could
be attained, but candidate theories are experimentally
inaccessible and mathematically elusive.
Even if
gravity were to yield to the physicists’ reckoning,
it is evident that a Theory of Everything will not
acquire a final mathematical form until the reciprocity
of the two incompatible sets of laws governing the
working of the universe on both the local and non-local,
the deterministic (physical or Newtonian) and the
probabilistic (quantum) levels, is ultimately arrived
at. It does look like the ETA may be “Never”.
They do not go together.
For this
fusion to happen, one might have to posit a divine
will that decides to bridge the gap between the two
disparate and irreconcilable branches of physics and
physicality. They cannot, it seems, be reconciled
in any other manner and still continue to function
so that both the “sub” and the “super”
reality-fields continue to operate despite their intrinsic
lack of fit.
The “greatest
ghost in the machine”: Popular science writer
Richard Panek admits the difficulty of grasping what
gravity even is; among the possibilities, string theory
suggests gravity is a massless vibration of a closed
string.
We are
dealing with the existence of a “double truth”
that is anathema to reasoned inquiry, a split that
may undermine the philosophical idea that all truth
is one. Occam would be unhappy. But the overall truth
is that these two primal foundations of reality –
quantum and classical – are somehow folded into
a single truth in that they have formed a kind of
cosmological “society” of separate classes
that actually work together under a permanent “constitution”.
It would be a truth, however, that is not founded
on a law of nature as we understand it but on a consensus
of conservation, a workable agreement that blends
the best of both worlds. It is almost as if the alignment
were political, a coalition government at the cosmic
level.
It is
even more important to remember that none of these
solutions will answer the question of origins, of
the existence of time and space at a recessive beginning,
or of the absence of a temporal field altogether.
This is not a leisurely or abstract speculation. However
it came to be, the initial singularity – which
common theory holds gave rise to the universe –
appears to be there, an infinitely small point of
infinite density and temperature where our known laws
of physics degrade and cease to be effective.
Quantum
mechanics tells us that what we experience as the
forces of nature really come in discrete, dense, tiny
chunks or quanta, whereas the conditions of the Big
Bang are whirligig-like, impenetrable to reason. So
some scientists have pursued another track, suggesting
that the universe did not begin as is normally understood
but as what is called loop quantum gravity, which
attempts to unify the laws of quantum physics with
gravity under a different set of equations.
What is
space? Under the Big Bang theory, the expansion of
the universe began from the initial singularity, an
infinitely small point of unlimited density and temperature
(top). Loop quantum theory replaces the infinite singularity
with closed loops capable of bending and stretching,
called quanta of space.
What is
space? Under the Big Bang theory, the expansion of
the universe began from the initial singularity, an
infinitely small point of unlimited density and temperature
(top). Loop quantum theory replaces the infinite singularity
with closed loops capable of bending and stretching,
called quanta of space.
A spacetime
singularity is a location where the quantities that
are used to measure the gravitational field become
infinite. That is, a point where physical laws are
indistinguishable from one another and space and time
merge, ceasing to have any independent meaning. Loop
theory transforms these infinite curves into closed
loops, replacing the infinite singularity of the Big
Bang with these pixel-like bits. Plainly, there must
be distances between these loops or “chunks”,
which might lead to infinities which in themselves
cannot be quantized, but perhaps the issue has been
mathematically elucidated to some extent. Even so,
the problem seems incorrigibly theoretical, shifting
up, down and sideways.
Carlo
Rovelli is the master in the field, wrestling with
a force he cannot yet vanquish. His Covariant Loop
Quantum Gravity is the reader-friendly go-to book,
and is worth consulting even for the amateur and non-specialist,
though the boogeymen still go bump under the bed.
Dear Carlo, may the Force be with you. (I confess
that although one of my university majors was mathematics,
the relevant equations are infinitely beyond my capacity.)
Still, the issue grows more involuted if Rovelli is
correct, if the quantum gravitational field is the
force from which space is woven from its closed-loop
threads of three-dimensional rings.
In the
context of Loop Quantum Gravity theory, how is the
concept of the Initial Singularity redefined?
THE TERTIUM
QUID
I have
taken another fork in the road. Physicist Paul Davies
concludes that the universe is “no mean byproduct
of mindless, purposeless forces.” It is something
made, it posits intent, it is an artifact, and it
has come from the mind of a supreme intelligence in
a way no one can specify and of which no one can give
any semblance of coordinates. The search for the initial
singularity ceases to be purely scientific. The universe
did not come to be in time and space and it did not
come to be outside of time and space, which is the
conclusion we are left with. Where is the tertium
quid?
There
is no logical or scientific account of the issue –
but the universe exists and it got here somehow. Again,
we have the knot, but are we brave and humble enough
to accept it, to acknowledge at least in theory some
power of which we cannot speak intelligibly, neither
in science nor religion, neither in genesis nor Genesis,
and which is neither in nor out of spacetime? There
is always a limit to our probes and inquiries. We
can take it to the limit as often as we wish, to paraphrase
the Eagles’ great song, but there is no way
to leapfrog it into the dragon-brimmed territory beyond.
We may
have no end-choice but to rely on a celestial consciousness
that creates an infinite singularity or a gravitational
loop and seals inconsistencies and lacunae by will,
as overpriced as this may sound.
The real
problem is that nothing evidential can be articulated
about a primal origin. It is beyond the conceptual
scope of the human mind. Aristotle’s, the prime
mover which moves without being moved, would include
the properties of a formative intelligence as well,
about whom nothing analytic can be said. The element
of mystery, however, is so vast and inescapable that
it is hard not to suspect something supernatural or
spiritually transcendent, something in the vicinity
of theistic evolution, something in the order of the
Divine.
Paul
Davies cannot accept the universe as just a “byproduct
of mindless, purposeless forces” but regards
it as something like an artifact intentionally created
by the one whom the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle
(depicted at right in an 1811 painting by Francesco
Hayez) called “the prime mover which moves without
being moved.”
It seems
we must accept that there is no way of quantifying
the esoteric parameters of the suspension bridge connecting
our two shores, the here and the there, the quantum
and the classical, existence and origin, the before
and the after, time and non-time, the Creation and
the Nothing. We don’t have the requisite information.
All we can say is that something happened, but how
or why is a domain that cannot be plumbed. We can
only chart its immediate after-effects and its evolution.
In this context, El Shaddai, as James A. Michener
salutes Him, or It, in his exceptional novel The Source,
has as much to tell us in this regard as the physicists’
bristling equations, which is not much.
Thus,
in whatever way we confront these issues, we may have
no end-choice but to rely on a celestial consciousness
that creates an infinite singularity or a gravitational
loop and seals inconsistencies and lacunae by will,
as overpriced as this may sound. I’m not sure
I’m willing to go for this hypothesis, but I
can think of no other option. The source will always
remain inscrutable and the quantum disconnect that
governs our life may well remain indiscernible, parts
of the world that will always trouble the spirit of
faith or the mathematics of unity, and which reflects
in little the overwhelming partition between Heaven
and Earth.
Still,
as the rich collaboration between theologian Matthew
Fox and biologist Rupert Sheldrake in The Physics
of Angels: Exploring the Realm Where Science and Spirit
Meet makes amply clear, it is possible to begin
healing the separation between reason and faith by
admitting both our hybris and our limitations. The
gulf is ours to negotiate. Sheldrake observes in a
separate work that quantum mechanics can describe
in detail the electronic orbitals and the energy states
of, say, the hydrogen atom. But this is very different
from providing a fundamental explanation of complex
molecules and chemical structures necessary for life.
In their
collaboration, Fox and offer a unifying view on reason
and faith, highlighting the common deficiencies each
branch of inquiry labours under in seeking to understand
life with its immensely complex, highly functional
molecules and structures. To
put it simply, something else is involved, something
that transcends material happenstance. The eminent
astrophysicist Bernard Haisch remarks, “An integration
of scientific and spiritual concepts will of necessity
come about eventually.” Amen.
A WORLD
OF MIRACLE AND WONDER
I can
no more fathom these mysteries than I can explain
the existence of a complex, marvellous, incredibly
vital, infinitely various world I wonder at every
single day. It is the greatest of all prodigies, of
all unsolved problems, the thing itself, the world
we live in, the universe whose very being defies comprehension.
It is inconceivably multifarious – far more
detailed than even Charles Darwin could have imagined.
Its creatures are indescribably heterogeneous and
singular. It is both terrifying and teasingly beautiful.
It is governed by laws and properties and constants
which have created a totally improbable Goldilocks
planet whose fine-tuning enables us to survive and
even flourish. It is spirit in a twin symmetry. It
turns out there is indeed a there here and a here
there. The commonplace is thick with pnemes, like
manna in the desert. Spiritual particles are everywhere.
Though
I am not a scientist, I am enchanted by the various
aspects of cosmology. I have only “chauffeur’s
knowledge”, a well-known jape about theoretical
physicist Max Planck’s chauffeur having impersonated
his master during a lecture in Munich. It is obvious
to the reader that I have accepted cosmology’s
standard model as largely viable though inordinately
far from completion. In the same way, I regard the
“Kingdom” of the Divine as a mystery that
exceeds by orders of magnitude my ability to absorb
it. The fundamental question I am addressing not only
on the physical but the human level remains.
And this
is the question: how is it possible to assimilate
this amazing dimension of the universe without being
rendered dumb and almost insensible with wonderment?
How do we become able to think of the fugitive nature
of time or speculate on the nature of non-time? After
all, we come into the world without memories; we “emerge”
from a time that did not exist for us. Non-time is
conceptual in argument even if not conceivable in
reality. What we have learned from theorizing about
the universe is that what is not possible is indeed
possible. Spiritual thinkers have always known this
about the Creation, not only of man but of the inexplicable
tapestry of the universe which enfolds him.
We forget
this in the course of our daily lives: the way that
the fact of the universe, or the Creation, however
it manifested, is a miracle that is almost incommunicable
in its nature. A miracle is regarded as a violation
of the laws that govern the universe. The emergence
of the classical apparatus of laws from a vastly different
and unconnected quantum base is precisely a miracle
as the common usage has it. It is a theoretical and
mathematical violation of reason. It cannot be pictured
or represented, not even in a Feynman diagram.
“The
world,” as the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein
opens his Tractatus, “is everything
that is the case,” a view implying that anything
that is not a fact, or cannot be logically pictured
by a proposition or representation, is beyond the
limits of meaningful language. Wittgenstein concludes
by counselling that “whereof we cannot speak,
thereof we must be silent.” But this would reduce
much science, theology and philosophical speculation
to proctorial speech and render the human mind as
little of consuming importance. It would also deprive
us of miracle.
But however
we define it, miracle exists, it is part of “the
case”, whether a contravention or a presence.
It is the driving force behind the passion for discovery,
the need to invent, the urge to ask what may well
turn out to be insoluble or preposterous questions,
the desire to explore what lies temptingly and provocatively
before us in the terrestrial, physical, mental and
spiritual compass of the very miracle of being.
The world
as a whole is what I call a true miracle of simple
existence without internal contradiction irrespective
of our inability to resolve it. In other words, the
miracle is the universe. Its entire existence is,
to put it awkwardly, unprecedented, at bottom more
unthinkable than anything science can offer in its
most exotic and ethereal equations. The miracle is
not only a violation or a presence; it is also the
unprecedented. It is a violation of the nothing.
Ethnobotanist
Terence McKenna observed, “Modern science is
based on the principle: ‘Give us one free miracle
and we’ll explain the rest.’ The one free
miracle is the appearance of all the mass and energy
in the universe and all the laws that govern it in
a single instant from nothing.” In other words,
the Big Bang and the created universe. God’s
work.
As frequently
reported, famously earthy commentator Joe Rogan appears
to have become “religious”. His formulation
during a May 2025 podcast was both succinct and memorable,
similar to McKenna’s: “There couldn’t
be nothing and then all of a sudden everything.”
Master inventor and technical wizard Elon Musk, who
once claimed “our reality might be a computer
simulation being played like a video game,”
replied to a podcast question about whom he “look[s]
up to the most” in two words: “The Creator.”
I am not
a “believer” in any organized religion
but I find that religious documents, like scientific
studies, are often fruitful to free speculation. For
example, the Dei Filius decree of the First Vatican
Council in 1869 affirmed that God can be “known”
not only by revelation but also by reason alone “in
the things that have been made.” This is a way
of recognizing the very miracle of Creation, or the
Big Bang, or whatever brought the world into being,
whether we are believers or skeptics or agnostics.
The “light of reason” is sufficient.
Everyday
miracles: Christian teachings assert that God can
be “known” through “the things that
have been made,” including celestial phenomena
and the diversity of nature.
Everyday
miracles: Christian teachings assert that God can
be “known” through “the things that
have been made,” including celestial phenomena
and the diversity of nature.
MAKING
BELIEVERS OF US ALL
The Israeli
poet Dov Ben Zamir made the point in a verse about
the creation of light on the first day of the world
which the Lord conjured out of darkness, a poem which
technically amalgamates science and religion in its
re-configuration of Genesis Chapter 1.
