The End of Materialism and a Return to God
The title of this article appears to be a religious statement of a spiritual and moral nature. It is not. It is actually a physical statement. The theory of supergeometry (introduced in the previous article and presented in full in Behind The Cosmic Veil), because it encompasses both religious and physical principles, and removes many barriers that have traditionally separated them, should allow us to make such cross-discipline statements that apply to both. This is one of those statements.
Modern physics is purely a materialistic discipline. In other words, all elements and processes in the universe are material, and have material explanations. Anything that is, let’s say spiritual, is by definition immaterial, and therefore is outside the realm of physics. Moreover, the root philosophy of modern physics implies that, because everything has a material explanation, then there is no need for the existence of God, for the nature of the universe itself is all that is necessary to explain its own existence and behavior. The material universe is self-explanatory, self-defining and self-fulfilling. This does not mean that one must be an atheist to practice physics effectively. Two of the “Big Three” of modern physics, Isaac Newton and James Clerk Maxwell, were devoutly religious (a fact that I think some modern physicists strive to embarrassingly conceal). The third, Albert Einstein, while not religious in the traditional sense (he had no belief in a personal or humanized God), was by no means an atheist, and vigorously disputed with what he called atheistic fanaticism. His view was that of agnostic theism—he accepted the existence of a Prime Mover or Creator from which the order of the universe arose, but that its nature was beyond anything we humans could know or relate with.
For the most part, atheistic materialism has served physics well in determining the physical or material causes for the way matter and energy behave in the universe. But the one process that has to this day thwarted attempts to fully define in a materialistic way is gravity. Newton recognized its existence in the 17th century, but couldn’t explain it. Maxwell proposed it was a force like electromagnetism in the 19th century, but could not demonstrate it. In the 20th century, Einstein finally gave us a functional model of gravitational effect based on spatial geometry, but could not join it mathematically with the other elementary forces of nature. The obstacle facing 21st century theoretical physicists in their quest to mathematically reconcile quantum mechanics and relativity into a single system is gravity.
Gravity is a fundamental part of the workings of the universe. The structure of galaxies, the fusion that causes stars to emit light, and the shapes and orbits of planetary bodies are all the result of gravity. Without gravity, life itself could not have formed, nor could it adhere to the earth’s surface along with the needed thin layer of atmosphere.
The fathers of modern physics saw in the universe an inherent order that was more than the sum total of its parts, and accepted the notion of a Creator or God as an explanation for this foundational order. But the trend in physics today is to devise a proof for a strictly materialistic interpretation of the universe, and in doing so eliminate4 the need for a God to explain even the smallest measure of its workings. The force that continually repels this atheistic campaign is gravity.
In order to legitimately claim a completely material, self-explaining universe, one must first have in hand a completely material proof for the entire gravitational system. This is something we don’t yet possess mathematically, conceptually or physically. Those physicists who claim that we’ve already scientifically eliminated the possibility of any cause outside the material universe for its workings are stating a belief, not a fact. To pronounce this position as established fact can only be the product of loose thinking, overly optimistic assumption or outright dishonesty.
Because of the complexities surrounding gravity, it’s somewhat easy for scientific authorities to mislead the public with such statements. What we were taught in school about the “law” of gravity appears at first to lend credibility to a statement like this, since we were also taught that science elevates a theory to the status of law only after it has passed all kinds of rigorous testing. But the “law of gravity” is itself a slight misrepresentation, as it is only an abbreviation for convenient speech like an acronym. What we actually have is the “law of gravitational effect.” We are able to calculate and predict the effects of gravity so well that the mathematical system by which we do this is indeed a law. But the intrinsic nature of gravity—what gravity actually is—remains theoretical, and there are several such theories currently on the table.
A gravitational system encompasses the entire range of gravitational cause and effect. The cause of gravity is only a single component of that system. How gravity is conveyed, and how it affects that to which it is conveyed are the other components. Understanding the workings of these components is the conceptual aspect of gravitational mechanics. But explaining gravity conceptually is not the same as explaining it materialistically. To convincingly demonstrate a material description of gravitational systems, we need to prove a material explanation for each component.
First, let’s take a closer look at the conceptual model. In the classical view developed in the 17th and 18th centuries, the mass of a physical object (not it’s weight, since an astronaut floating in space is weightless but still has mass) generates an attractive force known as gravity. The more massive an object, the more gravitational force it generates. Einstein changed this concept by adding a third component, which was the bending of space. He proved that space bends in the presence of mass, and this bending pushes a smaller mass caught up in these bends toward a larger mass. According to this model, gravity is not a force in the classical sense. But science has never abandoned the idea that gravity is an elemental force. This leaves us with a conceptual paradox. Is gravity a pushing influence determined by the bending of spatial geometry, or is it a pulling force generated by mass? All we can say for certain is that the geometry of space bends in the presence of mass, and this process results in the effect we call gravity.
Now remember our premise—we cannot claim with integrity a self-explanatory universe without first explaining with complete certainty all aspects of gravity. But how can we establish this if we can’t even be certain whether gravity pushes (Einstein’s bending spatial geometry) or pulls (a magnetic-like force generated by mass)?
One might propose a conceptual compromise by saying that mass generates a force that bends the surrounding space, which then causes the effect of gravity. But if that were so, then this force would be a pushing force away from the object, because the surrounding space is bent outward. And if it were an outward-bending force, why doesn’t it push smaller objects away instead of drawing them in? Or does the force bypass all physical objects and only pushes on the geometry of space? And if it’s the spatial bends that are producing an elemental force that’s driving a smaller mass like a meteor toward a larger mass like a planet, how could such an elemental force then be generated by spatial geometry, which itself has no mass?
Confusing? Don’t worry, because you’re not alone. It’s merely to illustrate that gravitational mechanics present us with a real chicken-or-egg conundrum when trying to finalize for it a single, consistent conceptual model, and why it remains perhaps the biggest obstacle in truly understanding how the universe is put together.
Now that we’ve looked at the force of gravity, let’s go to the second component, which is mass. We don’t yet know for certain how the material in the universe acquired mass. The Standard Model of the universe, which embodies science’s best explanation to date for all particles in the cosmos and their interactions, maintains that particles acquired mass shortly after the Big Bang. But we haven’t yet established how that actually happened. Most physicists have placed their bets on a hypothetical particle known as the Higgs boson that should have imparted mass to the particles of the early universe. But as of August 2011, the particle has not yet been found, and physicists working with CERN’s Large Hadron Collidor reported they are running out of places to find it. So there’s no certainty here either.
What about the last component of space curvature? Here again, we have a problem. The last several decades have afforded astronomers the technology to peer deeper into the cosmos and to collect a larger body of data than ever before imagined. Based on those results, they have determined that the total amount of observable mass in the universe is inadequate to generate the amount of gravity needed to shape the cosmos and hold it together. The material shortfall is estimated to be close to 90%! Astronomers have observed vast expanses of space that are bent with gravitational fields, but without any local mass to bend it (these expanses of massless gravity bend the light shining through from distant galaxies, causing the observable effect known as gravitational lensing). We have yet to determine a final explanation for how so much gravity is being generated without the presence of any visible mass.
With all this uncertainty surrounding gravity, it’s impossible to establish a conceptual model convincingly demonstrating that all the substances and processes in the universe are fully explainable by itself. Without such conceptual model, it’s impossible to completely eliminate even the slightest possibility of an influence beyond the physical universe like a Prime Mover or Creator. To say there is no God remains a statement of belief, not of fact.
Let’s now move from the conceptual to the material. To justify the assertion that the universe has a completely material explanation, we must establish a material cause for our three gravitational components. First, a materialistic interpretation of gravity would require it to be an elemental force conveyed by a material means. Gravitational “material” would be a particle of gravity, which science calls a graviton. However, decades of research have failed to find any trace of such a particle, and so it remains hypothetical without a stitch of physical proof for its existence.
Next, a material explanation for the origin of mass also requires a material cause. In this instance, science offers up the Higgs boson previously mentioned, which is yet another hypothetical particle lacking any physical proof. This particle is so desperately needed by those who wish to eliminate the possibility of any cause for the universe outside itself that it has been nicknamed the ‘God’ particle—if they can only find it and prove it, they can attribute nearly every possible function of a Creator to this particle instead, thereby achieving a triumph for atheism. Atheists need this particle very badly.
But there’s still another obstacle to overcome. For a material explanation of spatial-bending component of gravity, we must have a material that causes it at every location where gravitational bending is observed. There’s no problem when considering the curvatures surrounding planetary bodies or stars, which provide the material cause. But what about all the gravitational lensing in the universe where no material mass is present?
Not to be undone, materialistic physicists have conjured a hypothetical source for this missing mass called dark matter. It is allegedly a type of matter that is invisible, yet is so widely distributed and so dense that it can provide for all the missing mass mentioned earlier. Think about it—almost 90% of all the material in the universe is undetectable by any known means, and yet is so massive and dense that it generates all the missing gravity needed to explain the workings of the cosmos.
At the heart of all this is a basic but profound dilemma—we have reached a stage in our sciences where we’ve been able to observe and measure so much that we’ve simply run out of cosmic material to explain it all. This dilemma carries with it the real prospect that we have reached the limits of materialism, and so to make further progress, we may have to look elsewhere for answers. The preservation of a strictly material explanation for the universe thus hinges on at least three hypothetical materials—the graviton, the Higgs boson and dark matter—none for which evidence exists.
What if these imaginary particles really don’t exist after all? What if we were to accept our failure to detect even one of them at face value? In other words, we’re not able to detect them because they’re simply not there to find. The prospect would be a serious blow to materialism.
But it wouldn’t be the first time that established science suffered such trauma. Einstein was faced with a similar quandary from a hypothetical material, the belief in which was firmly entrenched at the time. Newton had concluded that space was an empty void, a nothingness. But subsequent experiments with energy demonstrated that energy could radiate waves through space. This didn’t make sense from a materialistic viewpoint, because according to Newtonian physics, there was no material in empty space to carry such waves (think of the waves a stone makes when tossed in the water, where the water itself serves as the material that carries those waves to a distant shore, or air as the material that carries sound waves). Physicists proposed a hypothetical material called ether that filled all space but was completely invisible (sound familiar?), and it was this ether that conducted energy waves through space. Even Maxwell, with his incredibly brilliant and earth-shattering work on electromagnetism, maintained the idea that electromagnetic fields were propagated through this invisible either.
An experiment to prove the existence of ether was conducted by Albert Michelson and Edward Morley, in which they projected perpendicular light beams across a large slab floating in a pool of mercury to make it easy to rotate. The idea was that the beams driven into the ether by the rotation of the earth would slow from the ether’s resistance, and the deviation could be then measured against the perpendicular beams that were not being so driven. The experimental results were negative in that no variation was detected. It was as if this ether did not exist at all.
Rather than embracing results that would have decimated the established model of the universe, physicists imagined that the ether’s pressure also compressed the entire experiment and all its equipment in the precise proportion as the head-on light beam, thereby explaining why there was no measurable variance with the perpendicular beam, thus cleverly preserving the concept of the ether.
Einstein decided to accept the Michelson-Morley experimental results at face value—the negative results proved the either did not exist. This helped lay the groundwork for his theory of relativity, which brought down the old order and ushered in a new paradigm in physics.
So what if we were to do the same? What if we accept the persistent failure to detect gravitons, Higgs bosons and dark matter for what it appears to be? It would mean that the cause for certain fundamental processes in the universe might be immaterial in nature. Since the entire observable universe is physical and thus material, such an immaterial cause would lay outside the physical realm. This would certainly lead to a new paradigm in physics.
Geoffrey Chew, emeritus professor of theoretical physics at Berkeley, and winner of both the Hughes and Lawrence prizes, stated in a lecture, “our current struggle [with certain aspects of advanced physics] may thus be only a fore-taste of a completely new form of human intellectual endeavor, one that will not only lie outside physics, but will not even be describable as ‘scientific.’”
With this in mind, let’s take another look at all the extra gravity in the universe that’s not associated with any observable mass. If we accept at face value the failure to detect the dark matter as the evidence it doesn’t exist, then we have to accept that spatial bending and gravity can exist independently of mass. But mass cannot exist independently of bent space and gravity because everywhere we observe mass, space is bent around it. So the traditional conceptual (not mathematical) formula of mass=gravity=spatial bending (or the alternate possibility mass=spatial bending=gravity) is no longer valid, since material mass is no longer a necessary component to gravitational systems. Gravity can exist without mass, but mass cannot exist without gravity.
This brings us to a question about the cause for the structure and order of bent geometric space. We never had to address this question before, because the structure of spatial bending was always understood to be determined by the mass bending it. But without order being provided by any mass, from where does the structure of bent geometric space come? Since we don’t know what that cause might be, we have to replace mass in our equation with the unknown quantity of x. And so we must say that in the absence of mass, x=spatial bending=gravity.
How can geometric spatial order arise where there is no material to determine its structure? Without a material cause, there can only be an immaterial cause. The late David Bohm, one of the most influential physicists of our time, pondered this very notion and concluded that the universe was constructed according to information, the source of which could not be accounted for by the universe itself (i.e., the universe is not self-explanatory). He proposed that the explicate order of the material universe arose from an implicate order that originated outside the material universe, or in other words, an immaterial source. Many other physicists have suggested similar ideas. Even Einstein maintained, “There are not laws without a lawgiver.” I personally like Bohm’s expression because it’s simple, eloquent and specific. Substituting Bohm’s immaterial source for our variable gives us implicate order=spatial bending=gravity.
Following this formula to its next logical step results in a conceptual model that is at the same time both fantastic and unsettling when you realize its full potential. Mass is always accompanied by spatial bending. But the localized bending of space around mass is always much more acute than the expanses of bending where there’s no mass. The conceptual expression for mass is then implicate order=acute spatial bending=gravity=mass.
Normal 0 If spatial bending is a function of implicate order, then the hypothetical dark matter is unnecessary. If gravity is a function of spatial bending, then it is not a force generated by mass, and therefore has no need for a hypothetical graviton to convey it. Moreover, implicate-order gravity pushes or flows inward toward the center, just as does relativistic gravity. Finally, if mass is a function of gravity, then there is no need for a hypothetical Higgs boson to impart it. The conventional, materially caused model of gravity depends on three hypothetical particles that cannot be found, while the immaterial gravity-in-reverse model has no need for these particles, and so offers a reason why they cannot be found.
The final implication of this is the most profound. Rather than matter being the cause of spatial curvature, it is instead the curvatures that are the cause for matter. We then have a cosmological topology where the depressions or pockets in space-time caused by immaterial implicit order act as nurseries or crucibles in which matter is formed! Everything we know about gravitational effect would be the same, just as everything we might locally observe about the effects of wind would be identical whether the wind was being pushed or pulled along. But the conclusions we could derive about the world at large would be far different from one than the other.
This new conceptual model provides a new way of looking at the universe that allows us to visualize the causes behind an unprecedented number of persistently frustrating cosmological puzzles including scientific anomalies, paranormal phenomena, the evidence for long-held religious beliefs, and a host of others listed in the previous article (What is Supergeometry?).
Behind The Cosmic Veil completes this new vision of reality with the first conceptual model of superphysical mechanics (i.e., the supergeometric model) illustrating how Bohmian implicate order gives rise to the physical universe, and in doing so unifies science, the spiritual and the supernatural into a single, coherent system.
It is the strongest model to date defining the “end” or the limit of materialism as envisioned by Geoffrey Chew and others, and a return to the divine Order that was embraced by the founders of modern science.
The title of this article appears to be a religious statement of a spiritual and moral nature. It is not. It is actually a physical statement. The theory of supergeometry (introduced in the previous article and presented in full in Behind The Cosmic Veil), because it encompasses both religious and physical principles, and removes many barriers that have traditionally separated them, should allow us to make such cross-discipline statements that apply to both. This is one of those statements.
Modern physics is purely a materialistic discipline. In other words, all elements and processes in the universe are material, and have material explanations. Anything that is, let’s say spiritual, is by definition immaterial, and therefore is outside the realm of physics. Moreover, the root philosophy of modern physics implies that, because everything has a material explanation, then there is no need for the existence of God, for the nature of the universe itself is all that is necessary to explain its own existence and behavior. The material universe is self-explanatory, self-defining and self-fulfilling. This does not mean that one must be an atheist to practice physics effectively. Two of the “Big Three” of modern physics, Isaac Newton and James Clerk Maxwell, were devoutly religious (a fact that I think some modern physicists strive to embarrassingly conceal). The third, Albert Einstein, while not religious in the traditional sense (he had no belief in a personal or humanized God), was by no means an atheist, and vigorously disputed with what he called atheistic fanaticism. His view was that of agnostic theism—he accepted the existence of a Prime Mover or Creator from which the order of the universe arose, but that its nature was beyond anything we humans could know or relate with.
For the most part, atheistic materialism has served physics well in determining the physical or material causes for the way matter and energy behave in the universe. But the one process that has to this day thwarted attempts to fully define in a materialistic way is gravity. Newton recognized its existence in the 17th century, but couldn’t explain it. Maxwell proposed it was a force like electromagnetism in the 19th century, but could not demonstrate it. In the 20th century, Einstein finally gave us a functional model of gravitational effect based on spatial geometry, but could not join it mathematically with the other elementary forces of nature. The obstacle facing 21st century theoretical physicists in their quest to mathematically reconcile quantum mechanics and relativity into a single system is gravity.
Gravity is a fundamental part of the workings of the universe. The structure of galaxies, the fusion that causes stars to emit light, and the shapes and orbits of planetary bodies are all the result of gravity. Without gravity, life itself could not have formed, nor could it adhere to the earth’s surface along with the needed thin layer of atmosphere.
The fathers of modern physics saw in the universe an inherent order that was more than the sum total of its parts, and accepted the notion of a Creator or God as an explanation for this foundational order. But the trend in physics today is to devise a proof for a strictly materialistic interpretation of the universe, and in doing so eliminate4 the need for a God to explain even the smallest measure of its workings. The force that continually repels this atheistic campaign is gravity.
In order to legitimately claim a completely material, self-explaining universe, one must first have in hand a completely material proof for the entire gravitational system. This is something we don’t yet possess mathematically, conceptually or physically. Those physicists who claim that we’ve already scientifically eliminated the possibility of any cause outside the material universe for its workings are stating a belief, not a fact. To pronounce this position as established fact can only be the product of loose thinking, overly optimistic assumption or outright dishonesty.
Because of the complexities surrounding gravity, it’s somewhat easy for scientific authorities to mislead the public with such statements. What we were taught in school about the “law” of gravity appears at first to lend credibility to a statement like this, since we were also taught that science elevates a theory to the status of law only after it has passed all kinds of rigorous testing. But the “law of gravity” is itself a slight misrepresentation, as it is only an abbreviation for convenient speech like an acronym. What we actually have is the “law of gravitational effect.” We are able to calculate and predict the effects of gravity so well that the mathematical system by which we do this is indeed a law. But the intrinsic nature of gravity—what gravity actually is—remains theoretical, and there are several such theories currently on the table.
A gravitational system encompasses the entire range of gravitational cause and effect. The cause of gravity is only a single component of that system. How gravity is conveyed, and how it affects that to which it is conveyed are the other components. Understanding the workings of these components is the conceptual aspect of gravitational mechanics. But explaining gravity conceptually is not the same as explaining it materialistically. To convincingly demonstrate a material description of gravitational systems, we need to prove a material explanation for each component.
First, let’s take a closer look at the conceptual model. In the classical view developed in the 17th and 18th centuries, the mass of a physical object (not it’s weight, since an astronaut floating in space is weightless but still has mass) generates an attractive force known as gravity. The more massive an object, the more gravitational force it generates. Einstein changed this concept by adding a third component, which was the bending of space. He proved that space bends in the presence of mass, and this bending pushes a smaller mass caught up in these bends toward a larger mass. According to this model, gravity is not a force in the classical sense. But science has never abandoned the idea that gravity is an elemental force. This leaves us with a conceptual paradox. Is gravity a pushing influence determined by the bending of spatial geometry, or is it a pulling force generated by mass? All we can say for certain is that the geometry of space bends in the presence of mass, and this process results in the effect we call gravity.
Now remember our premise—we cannot claim with integrity a self-explanatory universe without first explaining with complete certainty all aspects of gravity. But how can we establish this if we can’t even be certain whether gravity pushes (Einstein’s bending spatial geometry) or pulls (a magnetic-like force generated by mass)?
One might propose a conceptual compromise by saying that mass generates a force that bends the surrounding space, which then causes the effect of gravity. But if that were so, then this force would be a pushing force away from the object, because the surrounding space is bent outward. And if it were an outward-bending force, why doesn’t it push smaller objects away instead of drawing them in? Or does the force bypass all physical objects and only pushes on the geometry of space? And if it’s the spatial bends that are producing an elemental force that’s driving a smaller mass like a meteor toward a larger mass like a planet, how could such an elemental force then be generated by spatial geometry, which itself has no mass?
Confusing? Don’t worry, because you’re not alone. It’s merely to illustrate that gravitational mechanics present us with a real chicken-or-egg conundrum when trying to finalize for it a single, consistent conceptual model, and why it remains perhaps the biggest obstacle in truly understanding how the universe is put together.
Now that we’ve looked at the force of gravity, let’s go to the second component, which is mass. We don’t yet know for certain how the material in the universe acquired mass. The Standard Model of the universe, which embodies science’s best explanation to date for all particles in the cosmos and their interactions, maintains that particles acquired mass shortly after the Big Bang. But we haven’t yet established how that actually happened. Most physicists have placed their bets on a hypothetical particle known as the Higgs boson that should have imparted mass to the particles of the early universe. But as of August 2011, the particle has not yet been found, and physicists working with CERN’s Large Hadron Collidor reported they are running out of places to find it. So there’s no certainty here either.
What about the last component of space curvature? Here again, we have a problem. The last several decades have afforded astronomers the technology to peer deeper into the cosmos and to collect a larger body of data than ever before imagined. Based on those results, they have determined that the total amount of observable mass in the universe is inadequate to generate the amount of gravity needed to shape the cosmos and hold it together. The material shortfall is estimated to be close to 90%! Astronomers have observed vast expanses of space that are bent with gravitational fields, but without any local mass to bend it (these expanses of massless gravity bend the light shining through from distant galaxies, causing the observable effect known as gravitational lensing). We have yet to determine a final explanation for how so much gravity is being generated without the presence of any visible mass.
With all this uncertainty surrounding gravity, it’s impossible to establish a conceptual model convincingly demonstrating that all the substances and processes in the universe are fully explainable by itself. Without such conceptual model, it’s impossible to completely eliminate even the slightest possibility of an influence beyond the physical universe like a Prime Mover or Creator. To say there is no God remains a statement of belief, not of fact.
Let’s now move from the conceptual to the material. To justify the assertion that the universe has a completely material explanation, we must establish a material cause for our three gravitational components. First, a materialistic interpretation of gravity would require it to be an elemental force conveyed by a material means. Gravitational “material” would be a particle of gravity, which science calls a graviton. However, decades of research have failed to find any trace of such a particle, and so it remains hypothetical without a stitch of physical proof for its existence.
Next, a material explanation for the origin of mass also requires a material cause. In this instance, science offers up the Higgs boson previously mentioned, which is yet another hypothetical particle lacking any physical proof. This particle is so desperately needed by those who wish to eliminate the possibility of any cause for the universe outside itself that it has been nicknamed the ‘God’ particle—if they can only find it and prove it, they can attribute nearly every possible function of a Creator to this particle instead, thereby achieving a triumph for atheism. Atheists need this particle very badly.
But there’s still another obstacle to overcome. For a material explanation of spatial-bending component of gravity, we must have a material that causes it at every location where gravitational bending is observed. There’s no problem when considering the curvatures surrounding planetary bodies or stars, which provide the material cause. But what about all the gravitational lensing in the universe where no material mass is present?
Not to be undone, materialistic physicists have conjured a hypothetical source for this missing mass called dark matter. It is allegedly a type of matter that is invisible, yet is so widely distributed and so dense that it can provide for all the missing mass mentioned earlier. Think about it—almost 90% of all the material in the universe is undetectable by any known means, and yet is so massive and dense that it generates all the missing gravity needed to explain the workings of the cosmos.
At the heart of all this is a basic but profound dilemma—we have reached a stage in our sciences where we’ve been able to observe and measure so much that we’ve simply run out of cosmic material to explain it all. This dilemma carries with it the real prospect that we have reached the limits of materialism, and so to make further progress, we may have to look elsewhere for answers. The preservation of a strictly material explanation for the universe thus hinges on at least three hypothetical materials—the graviton, the Higgs boson and dark matter—none for which evidence exists.
What if these imaginary particles really don’t exist after all? What if we were to accept our failure to detect even one of them at face value? In other words, we’re not able to detect them because they’re simply not there to find. The prospect would be a serious blow to materialism.
But it wouldn’t be the first time that established science suffered such trauma. Einstein was faced with a similar quandary from a hypothetical material, the belief in which was firmly entrenched at the time. Newton had concluded that space was an empty void, a nothingness. But subsequent experiments with energy demonstrated that energy could radiate waves through space. This didn’t make sense from a materialistic viewpoint, because according to Newtonian physics, there was no material in empty space to carry such waves (think of the waves a stone makes when tossed in the water, where the water itself serves as the material that carries those waves to a distant shore, or air as the material that carries sound waves). Physicists proposed a hypothetical material called ether that filled all space but was completely invisible (sound familiar?), and it was this ether that conducted energy waves through space. Even Maxwell, with his incredibly brilliant and earth-shattering work on electromagnetism, maintained the idea that electromagnetic fields were propagated through this invisible either.
An experiment to prove the existence of ether was conducted by Albert Michelson and Edward Morley, in which they projected perpendicular light beams across a large slab floating in a pool of mercury to make it easy to rotate. The idea was that the beams driven into the ether by the rotation of the earth would slow from the ether’s resistance, and the deviation could be then measured against the perpendicular beams that were not being so driven. The experimental results were negative in that no variation was detected. It was as if this ether did not exist at all.
Rather than embracing results that would have decimated the established model of the universe, physicists imagined that the ether’s pressure also compressed the entire experiment and all its equipment in the precise proportion as the head-on light beam, thereby explaining why there was no measurable variance with the perpendicular beam, thus cleverly preserving the concept of the ether.
Einstein decided to accept the Michelson-Morley experimental results at face value—the negative results proved the either did not exist. This helped lay the groundwork for his theory of relativity, which brought down the old order and ushered in a new paradigm in physics.
So what if we were to do the same? What if we accept the persistent failure to detect gravitons, Higgs bosons and dark matter for what it appears to be? It would mean that the cause for certain fundamental processes in the universe might be immaterial in nature. Since the entire observable universe is physical and thus material, such an immaterial cause would lay outside the physical realm. This would certainly lead to a new paradigm in physics.
Geoffrey Chew, emeritus professor of theoretical physics at Berkeley, and winner of both the Hughes and Lawrence prizes, stated in a lecture, “our current struggle [with certain aspects of advanced physics] may thus be only a fore-taste of a completely new form of human intellectual endeavor, one that will not only lie outside physics, but will not even be describable as ‘scientific.’”
With this in mind, let’s take another look at all the extra gravity in the universe that’s not associated with any observable mass. If we accept at face value the failure to detect the dark matter as the evidence it doesn’t exist, then we have to accept that spatial bending and gravity can exist independently of mass. But mass cannot exist independently of bent space and gravity because everywhere we observe mass, space is bent around it. So the traditional conceptual (not mathematical) formula of mass=gravity=spatial bending (or the alternate possibility mass=spatial bending=gravity) is no longer valid, since material mass is no longer a necessary component to gravitational systems. Gravity can exist without mass, but mass cannot exist without gravity.
This brings us to a question about the cause for the structure and order of bent geometric space. We never had to address this question before, because the structure of spatial bending was always understood to be determined by the mass bending it. But without order being provided by any mass, from where does the structure of bent geometric space come? Since we don’t know what that cause might be, we have to replace mass in our equation with the unknown quantity of x. And so we must say that in the absence of mass, x=spatial bending=gravity.
How can geometric spatial order arise where there is no material to determine its structure? Without a material cause, there can only be an immaterial cause. The late David Bohm, one of the most influential physicists of our time, pondered this very notion and concluded that the universe was constructed according to information, the source of which could not be accounted for by the universe itself (i.e., the universe is not self-explanatory). He proposed that the explicate order of the material universe arose from an implicate order that originated outside the material universe, or in other words, an immaterial source. Many other physicists have suggested similar ideas. Even Einstein maintained, “There are not laws without a lawgiver.” I personally like Bohm’s expression because it’s simple, eloquent and specific. Substituting Bohm’s immaterial source for our variable gives us implicate order=spatial bending=gravity.
Following this formula to its next logical step results in a conceptual model that is at the same time both fantastic and unsettling when you realize its full potential. Mass is always accompanied by spatial bending. But the localized bending of space around mass is always much more acute than the expanses of bending where there’s no mass. The conceptual expression for mass is then implicate order=acute spatial bending=gravity=mass.
Normal 0 If spatial bending is a function of implicate order, then the hypothetical dark matter is unnecessary. If gravity is a function of spatial bending, then it is not a force generated by mass, and therefore has no need for a hypothetical graviton to convey it. Moreover, implicate-order gravity pushes or flows inward toward the center, just as does relativistic gravity. Finally, if mass is a function of gravity, then there is no need for a hypothetical Higgs boson to impart it. The conventional, materially caused model of gravity depends on three hypothetical particles that cannot be found, while the immaterial gravity-in-reverse model has no need for these particles, and so offers a reason why they cannot be found.
The final implication of this is the most profound. Rather than matter being the cause of spatial curvature, it is instead the curvatures that are the cause for matter. We then have a cosmological topology where the depressions or pockets in space-time caused by immaterial implicit order act as nurseries or crucibles in which matter is formed! Everything we know about gravitational effect would be the same, just as everything we might locally observe about the effects of wind would be identical whether the wind was being pushed or pulled along. But the conclusions we could derive about the world at large would be far different from one than the other.
This new conceptual model provides a new way of looking at the universe that allows us to visualize the causes behind an unprecedented number of persistently frustrating cosmological puzzles including scientific anomalies, paranormal phenomena, the evidence for long-held religious beliefs, and a host of others listed in the previous article (What is Supergeometry?).
Behind The Cosmic Veil completes this new vision of reality with the first conceptual model of superphysical mechanics (i.e., the supergeometric model) illustrating how Bohmian implicate order gives rise to the physical universe, and in doing so unifies science, the spiritual and the supernatural into a single, coherent system.
It is the strongest model to date defining the “end” or the limit of materialism as envisioned by Geoffrey Chew and others, and a return to the divine Order that was embraced by the founders of modern science.