Inconsequential Existence

Each of us is inclined to believe that our existence matters—at least to ourself, if not to others. This is a way we may express that we want meaning in our life. Each of us naturally feels that our life has some significance; that it matters, if only because we are inclined, from our perspective, to believe that the universe revolves around us. We seem to be at the center of it all. That is the natural way we perceive our world.

In fact, that is the perspective of most creatures—particularly those who do not enjoy the attributes of a developed consciousness that we humans have. We, unlike other animals, have the ability to imagine getting outside ourselves, to take a more objective view of things. When we do so, we can do a pretty good job of understanding that other creatures—particularly those with a less developed consciousness—have a much more confined view of reality. Nonetheless, we can't help but view our world from a self-centered perspective.

If we ponder the vastness of the universe, however, we are forced to conclude that our individual existence is not at all of consequence to it. Consider first the physical scale of the universe. I am but one individual among billions (even trillions) of beings on planet Earth. Earth is but one planet among several that orbit our sun. Our sun is but one star among billions in our Milky Way Galaxy. Our galaxy is but one among billions of such galaxies in the universe. Add all those multiple billions up, and you can see that each of us is an infinitesimal physical snippet of our universe. So how can I be at the center of it all? How can I be of any consequence to this mind-boggling cosmos?

Let me demonstrate the minuscule nature of our existence even further: now in the time dimension. How does my life span compare to the age of the universe? I might be lucky enough to stick around for about 80 Earth years. The planet has been here for some 60 million times longer than that. And the universe has been around for about 170 million times longer than that. But my life gets even more negligible, if I peer into the future and come to understand that the universe is at present in its infantile stage. It may be almost 14 billion years old, but some astronomers estimate that our universe may last some 100 trillion years! It's just getting started. So, from a spatial or temporal point of view, my existence is so vanishingly small as to be completely inconsequential to the universe. I am not at the center of it all. 

So, what do I make of my insignificant relevance to the cosmos? To some people, this can appear to be a nihilistic message—my life is nothing... it is meaningless. I disagree. It's only meaningless if I have bought into the message that the universe was created solely for the pleasure of mankind—which is an extremely limited and self-centered point of view.

Rather than believe that I am at the center of it all and then feel devastated when I come to see that I'm not, I think it's far more meaningful to understand that I'm blessed to be a conscious part of something so vast and magnificent and to be able to know that. Let me celebrate my being here, and my ability to comprehend its majestic nature, even if I'm an inconsequential part of it all.

The next posting will consider my existence from the other side of the coin: If I am an inconsequential part of he universe, how can my life matter... at least to me, and what do I do about it?.

The Notion of Nothingness—Part 4: Some Additional Responses (12/21/19)

The responses I will describe in this post to the question Why is there something, rather than nothing? delve a little deeper into the issue, in the context of the previous posting's consideration of the definition of nothing. Now that we're potentially on the same page, we might better critically analyze some of these replies. I will attempt to present them from a common perspective.

These responses may also be thought of as the kind of answer or conclusion that a philosopher or scientist may settle upon, after listening to the earlier, immediate reactions... after further pondering the various alternative explanations offered by others.

One argument in this area of questioning of why anything exists—rather than a simpler nothing—is that the question actually rests upon certain hidden presuppositions. For example, our question presupposes that there must be an explanation, and even that we need an explanation. Why are we concerned at all about why the world exists? Why do we posit nothingness as the opposite of existence… the opposite of somethingness?

Furthermore, the question presupposes that nothingness even could exist. But how do we know that? We saw in the previous posting that it's hard to define nothingness, let alone demonstrate that it exists. This response also presupposes that nothingness could be the natural state of affairs of the cosmos. Why would anyone think that? There are those who argue that the existence of the universe is very much to be expected. Why would a nothingness state even be considered? In fact, there are some physicists who claim that the laws of Nature—which we humans been relentlessly discovering the last few centuries (but have yet much further to go)—might dictate that there has to be something. Nothing may simply not be allowed!

One appealing theory of some cosmologists is the possibility that the universe we know may be only one of countless others. Some mathematical derivations in quantum mechanics seem to suggest that a “multiverse” exists. String theory also leans in this direction—despite the fact that, to date, we have no evidence to support the reality of jillions of other universes… they just are a byproduct of the equations. If they do exist (maybe we'll find out some day), the answer to our question of why there is something rather than nothing becomes even more baffling and difficult, because if we are struggling to explain the existence of the one universe we know, isn't the problem ever so much harder, when we consider all those jillions of additional universes? Why do they exist?

Some scholars argue that the task is not to try to explain why the cosmos exists, but, more fundamentally, to describe what we mean by matter—that solid “something” that we're convinced is real. Here's another definition conundrum, it seems. Over 150 years ago the English practical physicist Michael Faraday argued that the only reason we have to suppose that matter truly exists, is because we can detect and measure the forces acting on it. If he’s right, we're compelled to describe reality by describing the forces and reactions on material things—not the things themselves. So what does this tell us about defining or detecting nothingness? Can nothing act on nothing? Isn't this getting overly complicated? My head is hurting.

Finally, some philosophers answer our question by saying it's not an either/or question of something or nothing... it's both. Is that a case of having your cake and also wanting to eat it? Doesn’t it maybe just raise another question: How can we have something in the presence of nothing? Yikes!

Will we have an answer some day, as science progresses? Maybe, maybe not. It may simply remain beyond us, kind of like the true nature of a television to a dog.

Next time (the last entry) we'll look at the question from a personal perspective...

The Notion of Nothingness—Part 1: The Question

A question that has provoked philosophers and scientists for millennia, as they've pondered the nature of our cosmos is: Why is there something, rather than nothing? For many people, that question can appear to be a senseless puzzle. After all, the universe is something, so why should anyone ever think that there could be nothing? Others might say, however, that although it all came out of nothing (before God brought it into being), here it is. It was meant to be. God ordered it to be, so why question its existence? It's a brute fact. Get over it.

Yet many theists—and certainly most nontheists—have continued to wrestle with the conundrum. The source of many people's wonderment on this issue is the fact that science has taught us that Nature leans toward simplicity. This means that, when we question how Nature behaves in a given situation, and we posit alternative possibilities, time and again we find that Nature has selected the simplest of them; the most straightforward path. Nature is pure. Nature is elegant. Nature is to the point.

So, knowing this propensity of Nature for choosing simplicity, scientists and philosophers—who readily understand that nothing is indeed simpler than something—have posed this perplexing question. Why is there anything, since something is more complicated than nothing? Wouldn't it have been more likely for God not to have worked so hard to create the universe, when it would have been easier to let it stay nothing?

Many philosophers also dislike the response that God—or any other outside cause—brought about the existence of the cosmos, because arguments like this can be circular and unsatisfying. Any such explanation simply invokes a previous something (or some being) to have created it; but where did that something come from? What's the first cause?

The Big Bang theory posits that the universe came into existence some 13.7 billion years ago. Did it bang from nothing? What was it that banged? What was going on before it banged? Was there a before? Are these even sensible questions? Science currently is grappling for answers, so we don't yet know. Maybe we never will know. Maybe we're asking the wrong questions. As a result of all this uncertainty, philosophers feel compelled to enter the quandary, and offer their two cents on the issue.

Today many scientists wrestle with this question of the universe’s existence, because science has gradually moved in the direction of demonstrating that the universe was not created just for the pleasure and use of us humans. Earth is not at the center of the universe, and in fact, may be only one of countless inhabited worlds. For many people this displacement of humans from the center of it all is disturbing, if not downright nihilistic. They feel that it robs meaning and purpose from the cosmos.

Many other people, however, accept the fact that we're not the pinnacle of creation, yet we can still revel in the wonder and beauty of it all, and the fantastic good fortune to be possessed with the cognitive ability to be in awe of it. Even if we're not disturbed by the fact that the ancient reasons for purpose and meaning may be no longer relevant (and thus that we can find new reasons for celebrating being alive), one can still be perplexed that we seem to have no explanation for existence.

Next time: Some tentative responses.