Is Nature Comprehensible?
Is Nature Comprehensible?
“The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible.”
These familiar words, by Albert Einstein, are profound on many levels. Ironically, they are profound even if they are false. If they are false, the universe is ultimately incomprehensible, but whether it is so simply by its sheer volume, or by some inherent subtlety, that in itself would be a profound bit of comprehension for us to absorb.
Let’s start with the hypothesis that Einstein was correct. If the universe is comprehensible to the human brain, we must ask, why? Why should it be? What is it that shapes the human brain into such a form that it can formulate black holes, dark energy, and universes beyond our own? Does this shaping arise from some property or principle of physics? Is the brain somehow designed by the universe to understand the universe? Or is the brain’s ability to do so merely happenstance?
On the other hand, it would seem more likely that ultimately, the universe is in principle, utterly and forever beyond human comprehension. There are two possible reasons this might be the case.
For one, the computing requirements necessary to formulate the universe, might vastly exceed the maximum possible computing abilities of the human brain. Even were the human brain to evolve into something much larger than it is, it would reach a point at which any further increases in computing ability would result in diminishing returns. It has been said that the human brain is already at or near its optimal capacity to organize the information which it can potentially contain. Furthermore, this limitation on maximum computing ability might well apply not only to the human brain, but even to a hypothetical network of computers no matter how large. In the extreme, even a computer as large as the universe itself might be incapable of working out the foundational principles of the universe.
For two, the ultimate principles of the universe might not be subject to computation at all. The final principle might be too complicated, but instead of that, it might be too simple, too fundamental. Science assumes that the laws of nature are subject to scientific analysis, but there is no proof that that assumption is valid. The basic principle of the universe might be, “It is.” How does one formulate that?
Finally, there might be a recursive factor that governs our understanding of the universe. By this is meant that, in order to understand the galaxies and atoms of the universe, it might be necessary to understand the human brain, which is itself a phenomenon of the universe. Is it even theoretically possible for the brain to understand the brain? I was once on a ship, aboard which there was a small, scale model of that ship. But in order for that model to be truly complete, the scale model had to contain a smaller model, which then had to contain an even smaller model, ad infinitum. In other words, the ship could never be modeled completely except from the outside, which we cannot do with the universe.
Dare we concede that there may be a final limit to our understanding of the universe?
One might state that even if there is, we might continually split the difference, reaching ever closer to whatever is the final understanding of reality, much like starting with a decimal point followed by a nine, and appending a nine after each nine, approaching unity, even if never reaching it. Alternatively, we might begin with a decimal point and a one, never even getting a reasonably approximate understanding.
The worst case scenario is that somewhere along the way, we have taken a completely wrong turn, basing all our theories on a false assumption which, like a house of cards, can reach a very high degree of structure, seemingly sound, until with one final card, the entire thing collapses of its own weight.
It is right and proper that science should strive toward a theory of everything. We should consider however, that what we call everything might be only a small fraction of a systematic and interconnected whole, and an infinitesimally small fraction of it at that.
The outer edge of the map of science might well contain the words, “Here there be dragons.”
“The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible.”
These familiar words, by Albert Einstein, are profound on many levels. Ironically, they are profound even if they are false. If they are false, the universe is ultimately incomprehensible, but whether it is so simply by its sheer volume, or by some inherent subtlety, that in itself would be a profound bit of comprehension for us to absorb.
Let’s start with the hypothesis that Einstein was correct. If the universe is comprehensible to the human brain, we must ask, why? Why should it be? What is it that shapes the human brain into such a form that it can formulate black holes, dark energy, and universes beyond our own? Does this shaping arise from some property or principle of physics? Is the brain somehow designed by the universe to understand the universe? Or is the brain’s ability to do so merely happenstance?
On the other hand, it would seem more likely that ultimately, the universe is in principle, utterly and forever beyond human comprehension. There are two possible reasons this might be the case.
For one, the computing requirements necessary to formulate the universe, might vastly exceed the maximum possible computing abilities of the human brain. Even were the human brain to evolve into something much larger than it is, it would reach a point at which any further increases in computing ability would result in diminishing returns. It has been said that the human brain is already at or near its optimal capacity to organize the information which it can potentially contain. Furthermore, this limitation on maximum computing ability might well apply not only to the human brain, but even to a hypothetical network of computers no matter how large. In the extreme, even a computer as large as the universe itself might be incapable of working out the foundational principles of the universe.
For two, the ultimate principles of the universe might not be subject to computation at all. The final principle might be too complicated, but instead of that, it might be too simple, too fundamental. Science assumes that the laws of nature are subject to scientific analysis, but there is no proof that that assumption is valid. The basic principle of the universe might be, “It is.” How does one formulate that?
Finally, there might be a recursive factor that governs our understanding of the universe. By this is meant that, in order to understand the galaxies and atoms of the universe, it might be necessary to understand the human brain, which is itself a phenomenon of the universe. Is it even theoretically possible for the brain to understand the brain? I was once on a ship, aboard which there was a small, scale model of that ship. But in order for that model to be truly complete, the scale model had to contain a smaller model, which then had to contain an even smaller model, ad infinitum. In other words, the ship could never be modeled completely except from the outside, which we cannot do with the universe.
Dare we concede that there may be a final limit to our understanding of the universe?
One might state that even if there is, we might continually split the difference, reaching ever closer to whatever is the final understanding of reality, much like starting with a decimal point followed by a nine, and appending a nine after each nine, approaching unity, even if never reaching it. Alternatively, we might begin with a decimal point and a one, never even getting a reasonably approximate understanding.
The worst case scenario is that somewhere along the way, we have taken a completely wrong turn, basing all our theories on a false assumption which, like a house of cards, can reach a very high degree of structure, seemingly sound, until with one final card, the entire thing collapses of its own weight.
It is right and proper that science should strive toward a theory of everything. We should consider however, that what we call everything might be only a small fraction of a systematic and interconnected whole, and an infinitesimally small fraction of it at that.
The outer edge of the map of science might well contain the words, “Here there be dragons.”