The Physics of Consciousness

A simple formula creates the universe

Originally published by Peter Ripota on Medium. Subscribers may also read it here.

Since the advent of natural science as we understand it, scientists have also grappled with, and indeed had to grapple with, philosophical questions. Some of these questions, which arose particularly in 20th-century physics, are: What is reality? What is causality? Where does the world come from? How can we describe reality? Is there a fundamental basis for the world? Will we ever realize Einstein’s dream and find a “world formula”, the fundamental equation of a TOE (= “Theory Of Everything”)?

Physicists also have some specific questions, such as:

The existing physical systems, no matter how unusual, have not been able to answer these questions. Space is always assumed to be three-dimensional; otherwise, the laws of nature would be different. If a theory — such as “string theory” — actually postulates more than three spatial dimensions, the superfluous dimensions are discreetly hidden by compactifying them into an immeasurably small space. The fundamental building blocks of the world were once thought to be atoms, then elementary particles, then quarks, now perhaps “preons,” and so on. Time appears in all physical equations in such a way that a process could just as easily run from the future to the past — which, as we observe in everyday life, is absolutely impossible.

Chance also has no place in physics, except in the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics. But there are other, non-random interpretations, and the Schrödinger equation, fundamental to quantum physics, is strictly deterministic.

None of that is true, an Australian physicist claims. He has developed a theory that not only clarifies and explains all the questions mentioned above — and a few others from quantum physics — but also provides a physics free of presuppositions, from which the dimensions of space emerge just as naturally as the instantaneous communication between widely separated elementary particles (“quantum correlation”). Has physicist Reginald T. Cahill from Flinders University in Adelaide, Australia, found the philosopher’s stone? Only time will tell. Nevertheless, his ideas are so remarkable that they warrant reflection and may even usher in a new era of physical research.

Cahill has given his theory various names, including process physics (because he primarily considers processes, i.e., dynamic developments); Heraclitean physics (because he draws on ideas of Greek philosopher Heraclitus (540–480 BC), who believed that everything is in flux, and that it is a miracle that stable things exist at all); monad physics (after the monadology of the German philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646–1716)); and even Münchhausen physics (because, according to his formulas, the world pulls itself into existence by its own bootstraps, a “fake fact” that Germany’s famous liar, Baron von Münchhausen, used to impress his audience). Mathematician Kurt Gödel (1906–1978) is also among the fathers of the new theory, as his groundbreaking mathematical insights form the basis for incorporating consciousness into his formulas.

Let’s begin with a simple question: Why can we perceive the world at all? The philosophers’ answer: because our brain is structured in a way that resembles the world. The structures of reality appear to be reflected in the structures of brain processes. Cahill gives this conjecture a surprising twist: He turns the matter around. If the brain is structured like the world, then surely the world is also structured like the brain. If you have a good model of the brain, then you can also use it to describe the world.

The currently most popular model for brain processes is a neural network. It consists of nodes, which are the elementary particles of the network (in the brain: individual nerve cells), and the relationships between them. Two nerve cells can reinforce each other (relationship value = 1), they can inhibit each other (relationship value = -1), or they can have no connection at all (relationship value = 0). A neural network gradually develops, and after each step, new relationships emerge while many others disappear. The dynamic nature of a neural network’s development is illustrated by the state of an embryo’s brain: nerve cells multiply, grow towards each other, some form complexes, some become isolated, and some become inhibitors, blocking neighboring cells, i.e., suppressing the transmission of nerve impulses, which can be quite helpful. For example, such an inhibitor exists in your home: the ordinary electrical fuse, to your benefit, blocks currents that are too strong and could damage your appliances.

Neural connections between the stars

Neural connections between the stars. Image created with Midjourney

In Cahill’s model, time exists as a process in the sense of an experience. The past consists of the structures that have grown so far. The present is the moment from which a new round of growth and new relationships begins. The future is indeterminate and unpredictable. That’s exactly what Cahill wanted, but there was one thing he didn’t want: to define the fundamental components of his network. He tried to leave them indeterminate, and so, mathematically speaking, he had to “hide” them — they shouldn’t appear in his formulas at all. But how is that possible? If we examine a house, we ultimately arrive at its basic components, such as bricks. How can you describe a house without bricks?

A discovery by mathematicians makes it possible. The IBM employee Benoit Mandelbrot discovered or named these structures — he called them fractals. One example is the image of a river delta. This consists of rivers and tributaries and sub-tributaries and… ad infinitum. If you consider the rivers as relationships, there are no fundamental elements, only river courses. And when you look at such an image, you don’t know from what height it was taken — the river delta is “self-similar” at every level. Whether a river delta was photographed from space or from very close up, it always looks essentially the same. We only see a network of branches — exactly what Cahill wanted.

Cahill therefore built his network of reality from indeterminate fundamental components, which he called “pseudo-objects” and sometimes monads, named after the monadology of the German philosopher and mathematician Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. Cahill’s monads, after their inception, themselves became networks, whose monads in turn represented networks, whose monads in turn… ad infinitum. The network, so to speak, pulls itself out of the swamp of non-existence by its own bootstraps — hence the name “Münchhausen physics” (in English: “bootstrap”).

For reasons we will explain later, Cahill also used a random element as an essential component of his network, which he called noise. When he simulated such a network on a computer (it cannot be predicted solely by equations), a surprising property automatically emerged: The number of nodes increases with the square of the distance. At twice the distance, there are therefore four times as many nodes. This is only possible in a three-dimensional space. The three-dimensionality of our world, assumed in all physical theories, arises in Cahill’s model from the equations; it is therefore a consequence of his world, not a prerequisite.

Cahill discovered another astonishing fact: Not all of these fractal structures fill space completely. Some stubbornly remain in their own patterns, which space perceives as “defects,” as disturbances or dislocations. And it is precisely these non-conforming structures that constitute what we call matter. In other words, matter — that is, our reality — is a disturbance of the pure, original world — an idea we find in many religions!

The computer simulation revealed diverse relational structures. If we describe this development in human terms, it looked something like this: Some monads (= nodes) hesitantly stretched out their arms, found friendly monads, and formed a small community with them. Other monads took a liking to this and joined in. In this way, networks were formed that lasted for a long time. Other networks arose and perished, competing with or cooperating with existing structures. Members of these friendship connections recognized each other, possessed a kind of memory, and when one was doing badly, others empathized. This, translated back into physics, is precisely the basis of quantum correlation: Two particles that originated from the same atom at the same time are connected by an invisible bond, regardless of how far apart they are in space.

The attentive reader will have recognized that Cahill’s system has moved very far away from physics and approached an entirely different science: the theory of evolution. This is also how Cahill sees his theory: The universe does not exist, it is coming into being; its structures come and go, grow and disappear. And this also applies to the laws of nature: They, too, only form over time. A “Big Bang” is no longer necessary, because Münchhausen only needs himself to escape from the swamp of nothingness into the freedom of existence. Everything arises very slowly and gradually.

How does consciousness enter this world of fractal relationships? Here too, Cahill amazes his readers: Consciousness is already present in his formulas — it is generated by nothing other than the unpredictable, the unforeseeable, that which defies every formula and reveals no pattern whatsoever. Physicists call such unpleasant side effects of their ordered cosmos “noise”. How this is possible is a longer story. It begins with the Austrian mathematician Kurt Gödel. In 1931, he made a sensational discovery: Even the simplest mathematical theories are incomplete, in the sense that there are formulas within them that are guaranteed to be true but cannot be proven within those theories. Until then, mathematicians were convinced that a mathematical statement was either true or false. But even the simple theory of integers — arithmetic — contains mathematical statements that are not provable within arithmetic itself.

https://medium.com/the-quantastic-journal/gödels-proof-for-mere-mortals…

Gödel succeeded in his complicated proof by formulating statements about numbers using numbers themselves. According to Cahill, this is precisely the basis of consciousness — self-reference. Humans think about themselves, the brain observes its own functioning, and language describes its own grammar. This is also how our Western science ultimately began, with the skeptical statement of René Descartes (1596–1650): “I think, therefore I am.” The only certainty we have arises from reflection on ourselves. Because this reflection, this self-reference, also gives rise to a kind of lawlessness — we no longer know whether a statement is true or false or can ever be proven — according to Cahill, consciousness enters the world precisely through this lawlessness — through “noise.” Consequently, he calls the consciousness term in his formula self-referential noise — another name for “Gödelian lawlessness.”

Without this noise, according to Cahill’s simulation of his system, everything would soon come to an end, to a fixed form that no longer changes, to the “big crash” or the end of the universe in ice and frozen cold, as some authors have propagated. But the world is not like that. On the contrary, it continues to develop, ever higher, towards a stage where even inanimate matter exhibits consciousness. And Cahill himself speaks of a “physics of consciousness.” “The universe,” he writes at one point, “possesses a vitality that has remained hidden from physicists until now.”

Truly astonishing: Spiritual thinkers of the most diverse orientations have arrived and continue to arrive at the same conclusion. For example, the French Jesuit priest and paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881–1955) developed the grandiose image of a cosmic evolution, of a living universe. The goal of this evolution is an ever-increasing interconnectedness of all life forms and a higher development of consciousness — not only of humankind, but of the entire universe. The German biologist Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919) believed that every atom already possessed a “crystal soul,” and the French physicist Jean Charon even considered electrons to be carriers of a kind of elementary consciousness.

Thus, Cahill’s formula paints an astonishing picture of the world, one that also affects us in our daily lives. The world — the infinite universe as well as our personal reality — arises gradually from nothingness through self-reflection, through encounters with equal beings, through the forging of relationships, friendships, and sympathies. Those who remain alone perish; but those who unite with others create structures that endure and extend far beyond that community — and whose members remain connected even across vast distances of space and time.

There seems to be something like an immortal soul for every monad, provided it is not alone, and its threads reach beyond the boundaries of matter into the cosmos. This also means that precisely this self-reflection — perhaps in conjunction with the exchange of ideas among like-minded individuals — creates new structures and thus decisively changes the world. Whether for better or for worse depends on our thoughts.

And a key insight emerges: Only those who are alive shape the future as a world worth living in, whether for quarks, for humans, or for superclusters of galaxies with consciousness.

For the brave at heart, here is Cahill’s “world formula”:

Cahill's world formula — the emergence of everything

The emergence of everything


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