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There's Plenty of Room at the Side
{This
is an excerpt from a dialogue between Piet and Steven recorded in
Berkeley on April 25, 2005. In it, Piet introduces some aspects of his
ideas about a possible new direction for science to explore. Steven's
responses and alternate perspectives are presented in other
WoK articles.}
Many physicists will
immediately recognize that I am
referring in my title to the famous lecture given by
Richard
Feynman in 1959 at Caltech. The subtitle of his talk was An Invitation to Enter a New Field of
Physics.
In this talk he presented a bold vision of what he thought could be
done on an
atomic scale, thereby predicting the emergence of the field of
nanotechnology,
decades before even the term was coined.
What I would like to
talk about today is both more modest
and more bold. I want to address the question of how much room there
is, not at
the bottom, but at the side of what we have currently covered in
science. Have
we covered all bases, roughly, in our current understanding of matter
and
energy and space and time? Is there anything left over to be explored,
in a
fundamental sense? My answer will be modest, in the sense that I will
not
venture out into specific predictions. But at the same time I will be
bold,
many may say far too bold, in sketching the contours of a future
science, a
hundred or more years from now, in which we may have discover plenty of
room in
directions we haven't even dreamt of today.
Only Two Choices?
Steven, we have been talking
together now for a while
about this notion of reality research. To convey what we mean by this
is not
easy. People will either assume that we are extending some form of
standard
science or that we have some crazy ideas akin to religious sects that
try to
look at everything in a completely different and strange way. These
seem
to be
the two alternative ways of thinking about "research into the structure
of
reality."
The central problem in even
starting a discussion about
`room at the side' is that science has been so very successful and
doesn't seem
to leave any room for something else. What possibly can there be which
is more
than what science already has to offer? Let us begin by looking at the
different ways in which there could be something more. Can we enumerate
the
different ways and then choose where to look?
One obvious possibility would
be that we could discover
that there is another type of substance or building block or basic
ingredient
besides the atoms and molecules and the energy and matter in the space
and time
that science has explored so far. Could there be some other type of
stuff, some
basically other things or substance? That would be the first logical
option.
The second option would be to
start with the stuff that
science has already discovered and then to see whether there are other
emerging
properties we can talk about, layered upon and arising from that same
basic
`stuff.' In general, once you know the rules of a game you may still
stumble
upon quite a number of different aspects of that game that were totally
nonobvious to you when you had first learned the rules. When you study
the
properties of a single atom of water, or even the way that a handful
such atoms
interact, there are no clear signs that lots and lots and lots of water
atoms
can show phase transitions between different states such as ice and
water and
steam. In general, emergent properties can be quite surprising and
completely
invisible on the level of the individual building blocks.
Those seem to be the two
options that science leaves open
to us, and most scientists would take it for granted that it is only
along
those two lines that we could hope to discover more `room at the side.'
Now the
first one seems to be very unlikely. For all intents and purposes it
seems that
the behavior of nature on the scales of daily life has been explained
in great
detail by science, or at least is explainable in a straightforward
extrapolation of current research. The one question which is still open
with respect
to basic substance or stuff is what ultimately things are made from on
a very
very small deeply subatomic level; whether it is string theory or
something
else that will turn out to describe this most fundamental layer of
substance,
we do not yet know -- and probably the word substance will not be a
very good
characterization of whatever we will find there. However, whatever it
will turn
out to be, that seems to be hardly relevant for questions about the
connections
between science and contemplation and everyday life, the topics you and
I have
been talking about. I can't imagine that we will have to go to the
Planck scale
in order to find more room at the side.
Therefore, my guess would be
that most scientists would
by default prefer the second option, and presume that whatever we call
mind or
soul or spirit is somehow related to emergent properties of the brain.
The
brain is the part of our body that we associate with thinking and
feeling and
information processing in general. This implies that the question of
science
and religion, or of science and contemplation, will boil down to the
question
of what emergent properties we can find in the brain that are related
to such
the traditional topics as contemplation or mysticism or spirituality.
Scientists who think this way,
and they are probably in
the majority, often consider such an attitude as being the opposite of
reductionism. They will point to emergent properties as the one
alternative
with respect to reductionism. And as long as we are given a choice
between only
those two options, a simple hard-nosed materialism and a more subtle
way of
looking at the world as given through properties emerging from matter,
the
latter view is definitely less reductionistic.
My main point, though, is that
both ways of
looking at the world, and
at ourselves, are incredibly impoverishing in being incredibly
reductionistic.
And I mean that in a intensely felt way. I can get tears in my eyes if
I see
that this is what we tell young people who grow up in a world that is
so
crowded with established information that there seems to be no room
whatsoever
left for exploring a more contemplative angle on reality. No matter how
strong
someone's intuition and inclination may be, anyone who is not willing
to
sacrifice his or her rationality seems to be doomed to view the
contemplative
side of reality as a quaint type of psychologistic attempt at `feeling
good',
perhaps by doing some meditative exercises that somehow may succeed in
generating somewhat unusual combinations of brain chemicals that may
give us a
sense of inner peace.
Telling ourselves and
others that this is the way it is,
is really incredibly reductionistic, reducing everything to fit into a
very
limited framework. Everything gets shoehorned within a little slot in
the
existing systematic scientific framework, as if that framework is put
in stone.
They forget that science has metamorphosed itself time and again during
the
last few centuries, and will undoubtedly do so again, before too long.
A Radical Alternative
The alternative to the two
reductionistic choices that I
mentioned would be to take an extremely radical stance. Even though it
seems
that our realm is already completely filled up, and even though it
seems to be
completely self-contained, this whole world itself can be just a small
part of
something much larger. Just a a movie seems to be self-contained but is
in fact
a small part of what is going on in a movie theater, so our world may
be only a
fiction playing out in a larger setting, one that is unknown to us,
players in
the fiction. A similar methaphor would be to view our world as given in
a
dream, with the question then arising: would it be possible to wake up
from the
dream, perhaps while staying in the dream, with the dream continuing?
I am much more sympathetic to
this alternative than I am
too the two reductionistic interpretations. And indeed, many religions
have
offered metaphors of this type, comparing our sensed and felt reality
with
images reflecting on a body of water -- forerunners of our more direct
metaphors of a movie or a virtual reality. But at the same time I am
not
satisfied with a move to such a view. Somehow it seems like too cheap a
way
out. I can see someone saying, okay, during the day I'm a scientist
from 9-to-5,
and that is where I put my energy and intelligence while doing
research,
buying into the scientific picture wholesale; and then when I think
about human
values and about what is most important to me and for my relationships
with
others, I consider myself to be part of a much wider world of which I
know
almost nothing.
It would be too much of a
defeatist attitude for me to
take a quick leap to considering ourselves to live in a rich and
wonderful
world of spiritual values, for the sake of finding room for hopes and
aspirations
on that level -- while at the same time considering ourselves to live a
very
circumscribed and reduced life in a material reality that seems to be
empty of
anything wider. Such a view may be better than nothing, and one can
hope that
one day one may get a deep form of enlightenment, in this life or
perhaps in a
future life or perhaps in an afterlife. But how to discriminate such
ideas from
wishful thinking?
It would be easy to
laugh about what I called a radical
alternative, and throw it out because it doesn't seem to fit in our
ideas of
what is real and because it doesn't seem to lead to any particular form
of
knowledge or other practical application. I don't want to go that far.
On the
contrary, I do think that this alternative can lead to very practical
insights.
But just paying lip service to some form of blind believe in some
mightily
radical alternative won't lead to such insights. We'll have to do
better.
A Tempered Alternative
The program I have in mind
tries to steer a middle way
between the reductionist and radical alternatives. I will try to reason
out
what I think this program can give me, but to make it really clear
where I am
coming from, I would prefer to tell you how I stumbled upon these
ideas, back
when I was in high school, 35 years ago.
When I asked myself what is
true and what it is that we
can really know about reality, I saw that science has definitely the
pride of
place. Science can tell us so much about so many things in ways that
can be
critically checked that it would seem that science is a good place to
start for
any systematic investigation of the structure of reality. At the same
time, I
did not want to get stuck in the present framework of science. So I did
not
want to throw science away, in a blind attempt to make room for wider
spiritual
or contemplative views, but I also did not want to consider science of
the day
as the ultimate arbiter about what a scientific view could possibly be.
There is an interesting
parallel here. Someone who views
life as a dream may hope to wake up into a more real world, some day in
the
future. In my case, I considered the scientific story of today a type
of dream
or at best approximation, and I was hoping for science itself to
develop into a
more precise understanding of the world, some day in the future.
In my last year in high
school, when I was 17 years old,
I had to decide what to study in college. I was thinking about
philosophy and
physics and ancient languages such as Sanskrit, because I thought that
each of
them, in different ways, could help me probe reality from different
angles.
Even though physics was the most narrow of the three, in specifically
excluding
large parts of human life, it was physics that attracted me most. And
the
reason for that attraction was the historical path that physics had
taken, and
the promise that its path had for the future.
When I read about the history
of physics I was so amazed
by the fact that seemingly completely opposite poles were brought into
contact
with each other in meaningful ways. For example, physicists had started
to
investigate electricity and magnetism as separate topics, but then they
found
electromagnetism as a unified way in which both could be described.
This by
itself would seem like a real miracle, because the first experiments
you do
with electricity give you such different results than the first
experiments you
do with magnetism. And indeed, it was only gradually that people began
to see
that these two might have something to do with each other, and it took
even
longer before they postulated that electricity and magneticsm might
be two sides of the same
coin.
Could things have happened in
a different way? Probably
not. It would be almost inconceivable to consider that humanity could
have
found electromagnetism just one day from scratch. Can you imagine that
somebody
would do some experiments here and there, then would think about them
deeply
and say, ``hmm, let me write down Maxwell's equations'' -- that is just
not how
science works. If there would be intelligent life on any other planet,
I bet
that they would have stumbled upon things in a piecemeal fashion too:
find
something here, find something there and get more familiar with it, and
then
see more and more of the whole picture.
The word unification, by the
way, is rather misleading.
When Maxwell succeeded in unifying electricity and magnetism, what he
was
unifying was our understanding of the two phenomena. Nature had already
unified
the two from the beginning; in fact they had never been separate. The
current
physics project of searching for a unified theory of all fundamental
forces is
likewise a search to unify our understanding, which is currently still
fragmented. We now know that electromagnetism is in turn only one
aspect of
what we now call the electroweak interactions, and we hope that a
future theory
can embrace the strong and gravitational interactions as well.
The unification of (our
understanding of) electricity and
magnetism, in the second half of the nineteenth century, was just one
step. At
the beginning of the twentieth century, special relativity showed us
that space
and time culd be seen as aspects of a more fundamental space-time. And
as a
bonus it showed us that matter and energy are different sides of the
same coin.
Now that was really shocking, since what can be more different than
matter and
energy?!
So here I was, age 17,
thinking about a career choice,
and I was so amazed about the progress that physics had made, in just
one
century. I found it easy and natural to extend the dotted lines, from
Maxwell's
electromagnetism through Einstein's special and general relativity
through
quantum mechanics, which unifies in a way potentiality and actuality,
an even
more shocking step . . . . for me, the next thing clearly seemed to be
a
unification of body and mind.
What could be more different
than space and time, or
matter and energy, or actuality and potentiality? What polarity could
be
waiting, as the next pairs of candidates to be unified in our
understanding?
What else than body and mind?
At that age I was not very
sophisticated philosophically,
nor scientifically, for that matter, and I would not have been able to
put my
intuitions into as clear a language as I can do now. But my conviction
was
clear, to me at least. And I found it quite shocking that nobody else
seemed to
get when I meant, when I tried to talk about it with others, young or
old. They
would be either laughing at me or scratching their head -- looking very
puzzled, or thinking that I was trying to push some weird esoteric
sect. Well,
I quickly learned to shut up and not talk about these things. Instead I
decided
to just investigate these topics for myself, trusting that in due time
I would
be able to talk about them more coherently. Little did I expect that it
would
take me three and a half decades to do so.
The way I would describe my
views now is not as unifying
mind and matter, since I realize that such a way of talking would seem
to place
mind within the same arena as science. Instead, what is needed is,
first, an
enlarged stage. Our understanding of matter and energy cannot be
unified in
space. We have to extend space to spacetime, before we can see that
energy and
matter can be transformed into each other. Similarly, quantum phenomena
simply
cannot occur on the stage of classical mechanics. That picture has to
be enlarged
to include a description in terms of Hilbert spaces, before we can find
room
for entanglement, superposition, and the like.
So in the case of my
unsophisticated hunch of a future
unification of our understanding of matter and mind, what was missing
was an
appreciation of the fundamental need to move to a wider stage. Let me
sketch
what I now see as a candidate for such a stage.
The Role of the
Subject
Instead of talking about body
and mind, I now prefer to
use the words object and subject. Physics, and in general natural
science, is
focused on a study of objects. It has done so for four centuries, but
now it is
bursting at the seems, and it is time to broaden the stage of natural
science,
to allow subjects to play an equally fundamental role as objects.
Starting with the history of
science, we see that around
the year 1600 Galileo and others started to make a fundamental
distinction
between primary and secondary qualities. They decided to investigate
only the
so-called primary qualities such as mass, length, time, measurable and
quantifiable aspects of our experience which could be attributed to
specific
objects. An experimental procedure was invented whereby different
scientists
would compare their measurement. When they agreed in their
measurements, the
results were considered to be objectively valid, as properties of
objects.
Of course, each time we
measure the length of an object,
there are three aspects involved: the subject doing the measuring, the
object
that is measured, and the measuring activity. Notice how this last
sentence
itself is already an attempt at making an objective description! Let me
repeat
that sentence, by describing it within the subjective experience of the
experimenter. Each time I measure the length of an object, there are
three
aspects involved: me as the subject doing the measuring, that thing
there as
the object that I measure, and my experience of measuring. It is that
last
experience that has three parts: a subject pole and an object pole,
connected
by an act of consciousness. I see thing. I measure thing. Subject sees
object.
Subject measures object.
Any normal type of experience
we have is an experience of
something. Conversely, anything we come across, in reality as well as
in a
dream or fantasy or memory, is always presented to us in a certain way.
There
is us, there is us experiencing it, and there is it being experienced
by us. A
cup can be seen, remembered, anticipated as when we order a cup of
coffee, and
so on. The philosopher Husserl has given us a very rich language to
describe
and analyze the subject-object relationship, something we may want to
go into
further at some point. But for now, let me just sketch how I see the
birth of
science as a well-planned precise enterprise of charting the object
pole of the
subject-action-object structure of experience.
And by telling the story of
the birth of science in this
way, I have already laid down my cards: I expect that the next
breakthrough in
natural science will lead to an equally detailed study of the other two
aspects
of the structure of experience. After all, natural science, or natural
philosophy as it used to be called at first, is an empirical
This is not to say that we can
disregard what we have
learned about objects, since Galileo. On the contrary. The sign of a
successful
extension of a scientific understanding of a topic is precisely that
the
enlarged understanding can naturally accommodate the phenomena that the
previous stage of understanding could already accommodate, albeit with
a
possibly radically different interpretation. Quantum mechanics has
abandoned
the strict repeatability of experiments, but it can still account for
all the
successes of classical mechanics. Similarly, a future science of
subject-action-object should embrace whatever we now understand about
physics,
chemistry, and biology, although the interpretation of all that
knowledge may well be radically different.
Why does what I have just
sketched sound so alien to most
scientists? The problem is that we have forgotten that we made a
particular
filtering move, four hundred years ago, in which we only let through
the object
side of experience. Since then, we took what came through as being the
only
building blocks of our view of reality. The only novelty in my
suggestion is to
go back and take a wider filter instead. Perhaps we can retrace the
steps of how
science was built up by taking subject and object and subject-object
interaction as three equally fundamental ingredients of reality.
It is this move that
can give an answer to the question
``is there more room?'' The answer to ``is there more room?'' in a
world made
out of objects is a resounding ``no''. There is no room in terms of a
new
substance and there is no room in terms of emerging properties, at
least not in
any really fundamentally new way. However, if you look at the world of
objects
as comprising just one aspect of a wider view in terms of subjects and
objects
and interactions between them, then everything is suddenly all open
again, with
us basically entering a new game. And my guess is that in the next few
hundred
years this will be the new game of science, to open up this terrain and
to
explore it in detail.
Cracks in the Object
Picture
Let me try to show you that
this is not all just wishful
thinking, or a form of speculation. Let me point to some specific
cracks in the
object-dominated picture of the world. If what I've sketched is really
a new
kind of science, a wider way of doing science, that I should be able to
point
at concrete topics that we can begin to investigate, even though we're
not
quite sure yet of what the most appropriate technology will turn out to
be.
For starters, let me
throw out three different
suggestions that I think are pointing toward the science of subjects,
or better
a science of subject/object/interaction, as a new stage in science.
Quantum mechanics
My first pointer is related to
quantum mechanics. We now
know that nature is not cast in stone and not present independently
from us, in
the type of objective way that classical mechanics has always taken for
granted. The best way to summarize what we have learned from quantum
mechanics
is to say that matter is responsive. Matter shows its nature in a
measurable
way, but not in a purely objective way. What a piece of matter shows
depends on
how you want to measure it, on how you ask questions.
John Wheeler has expressed
this in a very nice way as
saying that quantum mechanics shows nature as participating in the
children's
game of twenty questions. Each time we ask a question, we limit the
possible
answer that can appear at the end, but we can also show that there was
no
single definite answer waiting for us in the first place. Instead, the
answer
somehow originated while we asked, and what is more, in part in
response to the
very way in which we chose to do the asking. In other words, matter is
not
inert but is responsive.
I suggest we should
this as a clue that quantum mechanics
is being played out on a stage that is wider than a stage filled only
with
objects. In addition, there is something else playing a role, a
something that
is involved in asking question to which matter gives
questions-dependent
answers. On a very fundamental level there is a form of entanglement
between
the questioner and what is being questioned. For me, this signals one
way in
which the subject is trying to shine through, through what we have
roped off as
being the realm of the object.
Robotics
The second place where I see a
pointer is in robotics
research. We have tried for the last several decades to make
intelligent
robots, but we haven't been very successful. Sure, we have made
specialized
robots that are fixed to the floor in a car factory, and that can put
parts on
automobiles in very complex and precise ways. But only very recently
have we
made robots that can do the simplest of house cleaning jobs, such as
vacuuming
the floor. Why did it take so long? Isn't it surprising that we could
build a
computer that was able to beat the world champion in chess, before we
could
bring a robot on the market that could clean the floor of your
apartment?
I think there is a good reason
for our sluggishness in
building robots. The human race now has a hundred thousand years of
experience
in making tools that behave like objects, starting with stone axes.
After that,
from making pottery to building spaceships, we have refined our object
building
a great deal. But our knowledge is still in its infancy as far as
building
subjects. Building a robot requires more than a good knowledge of
electricity,
mechanics, and software. It requires a whole new approach, in which we
consider
our gadget as more than an object with wheels, arms, and a programmable
computer brain. Instead, we have yet to learn to think of a robot as a
subject,
something for which our current science doesn't even have a basic
concept yet.
This lack of a good concept is
certainly not the result
of a lack of trying. Computer scientists and cognitive scientists in
general
have made heroic attempts to look at autonomous agents and other
concepts in
the new field of complexity theory. And in doing so they have generated
many
interesting novel ideas. However, these ideas are mostly based on the
notion of
emergence. The world of objects is taken for granted as the one and
only stage
on which to perform the play, and the behavior of robots is layered
upon those,
as software on top of hardware, or as something emerging out of a
substratum.
My suggestion is that this move does not go far enough: instead, I
would prefer
to enlarge the stage itself, by viewing a robot as something that
presents a
type of subject pole, along with its obviously present objective
properties.
In other words, a robot
is a tool which is a subject, not
an object, and we don't know enough about subjects to build such a
tool. We
fall flat on our faces when we try to build a robot because we are
trying to
use all the ingenuity we have learned in the last 400 years in a
scientific
approach to objects, but a subject is not just a clever object, or an
autonomous object, or all these terms we have been trying to work with.
A
subject is a subject, and is different from an object, and only when we
understand subject-object unification can we show, someday in the
future, what
is really object-like about the object and subject-like about the
subject.
We're not there yet.
Neuroscience
The third pointer which I see
is brain research, neuroscience.
We are getting closer to making a dictionary between what corresponds
to what,
when we think and feel, between brain states and subjective experience.
On the
one hand, electrochemical phenomena in the brain are objectively
measurable. On
the other hand, we have subjective, personal experiences of what we
feel or
think. By series of precise measurements we are beginning to chart the
correlations between the two. Perhaps some day, not too long into the
future,
we will have some form of dictionary, which tells us which type of
objective
phenomena in the bring go along with which type of personal
experiences.
The very fact that we can make
a dictionary between the
two, means that the objective side of the dictionary is not complete.
If
English would be the only language in which we can describe the world,
there
would not be any need or even place for a dictionary, other than one
that
explains English words in more detailed English descriptions. But if
there are
other languages, that also describe the world, from different angles
and in
different ways, then there is room for dictonaries translating the one
language
to the other.
So I see neuroscience
as another place where the object
oriented language of sciences is bursting at the seams. By building up
a
dictionary between the behavior of objects such as neurons firing, and
experiences of the human subject, we have already tacitly admitted that
there
is room on the stage for subjects as well as objects, that a language
in terms
of objects is incomplete.