Parallel Worlds (54 page)

Weinberg
apparently takes a certain devilish delight in stirring up the pot, poking fun
at the pretensions of those who profess some insight into the cosmic meaning of
the universe. "For many years I have been a cheerful philistine in
philosophical matters," he confesses. Like Shakespeare, he believes that
all the world is a stage, "but the tragedy is not in the script; the
tragedy is that there is no script."

Weinberg mirrors
the words of fellow scientist Richard Dawkins of Oxford, a biologist who
proclaims, "In a universe of blind physical forces . . . some people are
going to get hurt, and other people are going to get lucky, and you won't find
any rhyme or reason in it, nor any justice. The universe that we observe has
precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design,
no purpose, no evil, and no good, nothing but blind, pitiless
indifference."

In essence,
Weinberg is laying down a challenge. If people believe that the universe has a
point, then what is it? When astronomers peer out into the vastness of the
cosmos, with giant stars much larger than our Sun being born and dying in a
universe that has been explosively expanding for billions of years, it is hard
to see how all this could have been precisely arranged to give a purpose to humanity
dwelling on a tiny planet revolving around an obscure star.

Although his
statements have generated much heat, very few scientists have risen to
confront them. Yet when Alan Lightman and Roberta Brawer interviewed a
collection of prominent cosmologists to ask them if they agreed with Weinberg,
interestingly, only a handful accepted Weinberg's rather bleak assessment of
the universe. One scientist who was firmly in Weinberg's camp was Sandra Faber
of the Lick Observatory and the University of California at Santa Cruz, who
said, "I don't believe the earth was created for people. It was a planet
created by natural processes, and, as part of the further continuation of
those natural processes, life and intelligent life appeared. In exactly the
same way, I think the universe was created out of some natural process, and our
appearance in it was a totally natural result of physical laws in our
particular portion of it. Implicit in the question, I think, is that there's
some motive power that has a purpose beyond human existence. I don't believe in
that. So, I guess ultimately I agree with Weinberg that it's completely
pointless from a human perspective."

But a much
larger camp of cosmologists thought Weinberg was off base, that the universe
did have a point, even if they could not articulate it.

Margaret Geller,
a professor at Harvard University, said, "I guess my view of life is that
you live your life and it's short. The thing is to have as rich an experience
as you possibly can. That's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to do something
creative. I try to educate people."

And a handful of
them did indeed see a point to the universe in the handiwork of God. Don Page
of the University of Alberta, a former student of Stephen Hawking, said,
"Yes, I would say there's definitely a purpose. I don't know what all of
the purposes are, but I think one of them was for God to create man to have
fellowship with God. A bigger purpose maybe was that God's creation would
glorify God." He sees the handiwork of God even in the abstract rules of
quantum physics: "In some sense, the physical laws seem to be analogous
to the grammar and the language that God chose to use."

Charles Misner
of the University of Maryland, one of the early pioneers in analyzing
Einstein's general relativity theory, finds common ground with Page: "My
feeling is that in religion there are very serious things, like the existence
of God and the brotherhood of man, that are serious truths that we will one day
learn to appreciate in perhaps a different language on a different scale . . .
So I think there are real truths there, and in the sense the majesty of the universe
is meaningful, and we do owe honor and awe to its Creator."

The question of
the Creator raises the question: can science say anything about the existence
of God? The theologian Paul Tillich once said that physicists are the only
scientists who can say the word "God" and not blush. Indeed,
physicists stand alone among scientists in tackling one of humanity's greatest
questions: is there a grand design? And if so, is there a designer? Which is
the true path to truth, reason or revelation?

String theory
allows us to view the subatomic particles as notes on a vibrating string; the
laws of chemistry correspond to the melodies one can play on these strings; the
laws of physics correspond to the laws of harmony that govern these strings;
the universe is a symphony of strings; and the mind of God can be viewed as cosmic
music vibrating through hyperspace. If this analogy is valid, one must ask the
next question: is there a composer? Did someone design the theory to allow for
the richness of possible universes that we see in string theory? If the
universe is like a finely tuned watch, is there a watchmaker?

In this sense,
string theory sheds some light on the question: did God have a choice? Whenever
Einstein was creating his cosmic theories, he would always ask the question,
how would I have designed the universe? He leaned toward the idea that perhaps
God had no choice in the matter. String theory seems to vindicate this
approach. When we combine relativity with the quantum theory, we find theories
that are riddled with hidden but fatal flaws: divergences that blow up and
anomalies that spoil the symmetries of the theory. Only by incorporating
powerful symmetries can these divergences and anomalies be eliminated, and
M-theory possesses the most powerful of these symmetries. Thus, perhaps, there
might be a single, unique theory that obeys all the postulates that we demand
in a theory.

Einstein, who
often wrote at length about the Old One, was asked about the existence of God.
To him, there were two types of gods. The first god was the personal god, the
god who answered prayers, the god of Abraham, Isaac, Moses, the god that parts
the waters and performs miracles. However, this is not the god that most
scientists necessarily believe in.

Einstein once
wrote that he believed in "Spinoza's God who reveals Himself in the
orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with fates
and actions of human beings." The god of Spinoza and Einstein is the god
of harmony, the god of reason and logic. Einstein writes, "I cannot
imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation . . .
Neither can I believe that the individual survives the death of his body."

(In Dante's
Inferno,
the First Circle near the entrance to Hell is populated by
people of good will and temperament who failed to fully embrace Jesus Christ.
In the First Circle, Dante found Plato and Aristotle and other great thinkers
and luminaries. As physicist Wilczek remarks, "We suspect that many,
perhaps most, modern scientists will find their way to the First
Circle.") Mark Twain might also be found in that illustrious First Circle.
Twain once defined faith as "believing what any darn fool knows ain't
so."

Personally, from
a purely scientific point of view, I think that perhaps the strongest argument
for the existence of the God of Einstein or Spinoza comes from teleology. If
string theory is eventually experimentally confirmed as the theory of
everything, then we must ask where the equations themselves came from. If the
unified field theory is truly unique, as Einstein believed, then we must ask
where this uniqueness came from. Physicists who believe in this God believe
that the universe is so beautiful and simple that its ultimate laws could not
have been an accident. The universe could have been totally random or made up
of lifeless electrons and neutrinos, incapable of creating any life, let alone
intelligent life.

If, as I and some
other physicists believe, the ultimate laws of reality will be described by a
formula perhaps no more than one inch long, then the question is, where did
this equation come from?

As Martin
Gardner has said, "Why does the apple fall? Because of the law of
gravitation. Why the law of gravitation? Because of certain equations that are
part of the theory of relativity. Should physicists succeed some day in
writing one ultimate equation from which all physical laws can be derived, one
could still ask, 'Why that equation?' "

CREATING OUR OWN MEANING

Ultimately, I
believe the very existence of a single equation that can describe the entire
universe in an orderly, harmonious fashion implies a design of some sort.
However, I do not believe that this design gives personal meaning to humanity.
No matter how dazzling or elegant the final formulation of physics may be, it
will not uplift the spirits of billions and give them emotional fulfillment. No
magic formula coming from cosmology and physics will enthrall the masses and
enrich their spiritual lives.

For me, the real
meaning in life is that we create our own meaning. It is our destiny to carve
out our own future, rather than have it handed down from some higher authority.
Einstein once confessed that he was powerless to give comfort to the hundreds
of well- meaning individuals who wrote stacks of letters pleading with him to
reveal the meaning of life. As Alan Guth has said, "It's okay to ask those
questions, but one should not expect to get a wiser answer from a physicist. My
own emotional feeling is that life has a purpose—ultimately, I'd guess that
the purpose it has is the purpose that we've given it and not a purpose that
came out of any cosmic design."

I believe that
Sigmund Freud, with all his speculations about the dark side of the unconscious
mind, came closest to the truth when he said that what gives stability and
meaning to our minds is work and love. Work helps to give us a sense of
responsibility and purpose, a concrete focus to our labors and dreams. Work not
only gives discipline and structure to our lives, it also provides us with a
sense of pride, accomplishment, and a framework for fulfillment. And love is an
essential ingredient that puts us within the fabric of society. Without love,
we are lost, empty, without roots. We become drifters in our own land,
unattached to the concerns of others.

Beyond work and
love, I would add two other ingredients that give meaning to life. First, to
fulfill whatever talents we are born with. However blessed we are by fate with
different abilities and strengths, we should try to develop them to the
fullest, rather than allow them to atrophy and decay. We all know individuals
who did not fulfill the promise they showed in childhood. Many of them became
haunted by the image of what they might have become. Instead of blaming fate, I
think we should accept ourselves as we are and try to fulfill whatever dreams
are within our capability.

Second, we
should try to leave the world a better place than when we entered it. As
individuals, we can make a difference, whether it is to probe the secrets of
Nature, to clean up the environment and work for peace and social justice, or
to nurture the inquisitive, vibrant spirit of the young by being a mentor and
a guide.

TRANSITION TO TYPE I CIVILIZATION

In Anton Chekhov's play
Three Sisters,
in act 2 Colonel Vershinin proclaims, "In a century or
two, or in a millennium, people will live in a new way, a happier way. We won't
be there to see it—but it's why we live, why we work. It's why we suffer. We're
creating it. That's the purpose of our existence. The only happiness we can
know is to work toward that goal."

Personally,
rather than be depressed by the sheer enormity of the universe, I am thrilled
by the idea of entirely new worlds that exist next to ours. We live in an age
when we are just beginning the exploration of the cosmos with our space probes
and space telescopes, our theories and equations.

I also feel
privileged to be alive at a time when our world is undergoing such heroic
strides. We are alive to witness perhaps the greatest transition in human
history, the transition to a type I civilization, perhaps the most momentous,
but also dangerous, transition in human history.

In the past, our
ancestors lived in a harsh, unforgiving world. For most of human history,
people lived short, brutish lives, with an average life expectancy of about
twenty years. They lived in constant fear of diseases, at the mercy of the
fates. Examination of the bones of our ancestors reveals that they are
incredibly worn down, a testament to the heavy loads and burdens they carried
daily; they also bear the telltale marks of disease and horrible accidents.
Even within the last century, our grandparents lived without the benefit of
modern sanitation, antibiotics, jet airplanes, computers, or other electronic
marvels.

Our
grandchildren, however, will live at the dawning of Earth's first planetary
civilization. If we don't allow our often brutal instinct for self-destruction
to consume us, our grandchildren could live in an age when want, hunger, and
disease no longer haunt our destiny. For the first time in human history, we
possess both the means for destroying all life on Earth or realizing a paradise
on the planet.

As a child, I
often wondered what it would be like to live in the far future. Today, I
believe that if I could choose to be alive in any particular era of humanity, I
would choose this one. We are now at the most exciting time in human history,
the cusp of some of the greatest cosmic discoveries and technological advances
of all time.