There's something in the air.
Where ideas come from, quantum entanglement, time, and utopia.
“The times are urgent. We must slow down.” – Bayo Akomolafe
I’ve long been fascinated by how we arrive at ideas, specifically those ideas which stand subservisely in contrast with consensus thinking about how the world works.
There’s a concept in quantum physics called quantum entanglement. I’m no physicist and can barely comprehend the technical specifics of quantum entanglement including atomic spin, probability models, and collapsing wave functions, but there is one idea that I find absolutely fascinating – the heart of quantum entanglement is about the instantaneous transmission of information between particles (faster than the speed of light). As a particle, to be entangled is to exist in a state that is defined by another particle, whether that other particle is three meters away or three galaxies away. There is still a ton of mystery here as to how exactly entanglement works, but the idea that the quantum transmission of information is observable, in principle, makes for some interesting speculation.
For example, could a connection with a place or a person be explained through quantum entanglement? I don’t mean a superficial connection. I mean a deep connection that transcends the explanatory limits of language – the connection that many cultures have to place that persists across generations, or the connection a couple has after spending fifty years together. Could it be that at a quantum level we become entangled with the world around us, and through that entanglement the material world around us somehow imparts to us information? Could two entangled people begin to share thoughts and emotions even though they are distanced, much like the Jedi in the Star Wars anthology who can sense a “disturbance in the force.”
I don’t know. And I’m not sure when or if we will be able answer those questions. But speculatively this is the most compelling explanation for why there seems to be inflection points throughout history where people separated by place and culture arrive at common ideas or understandings of the world. Perhaps it’s something as historically pivotal such as the domestication of plants and the advent of agriculture (which showed up around the same time in at least eleven different places around the world), or something as dull as an idea for a recipe or a new business model.
Could it be that when we say there is “something in the air,” we don’t just mean that there has been a shared experience across a population of people that leads to a commonly held sentiment, belief, or idea. Perhaps what we mean is that we’re encountering an entanglement; a new (or possible future) reality is revealing itself. If quantum entangled particles transmit information faster than the speed of light, can that transmission transcend time? It’s a compelling and magical idea to imagine – that the inchoate material future speaks to us through the quantum material present. It’s as if quantum entanglement is reality’s slow motion whisper, an unwordable utterance if you will, spoken to those who have the ears to listen, hear, and respond, saying quietly “see me.”
There is one slow motion whisper of reality I have been tuning into these last few years. And I’ve begun to encounter others who have been tuning in as well. In fact there seems to be as swell of people paying attention to this whisper, documenting it, and amplifying it. The whisper goes something like this: do less, go slower.
Time, and how it is inhabited, always seems to be a primary characteristic of utopian thinking – utopian worlds are ones of leisure, play, and rest. Despite the mostly dystopian means by which those things are attained (usually something along the lines of antagonistic AI driven automation, the suppression of dissent, and totalitarian regimes which perpetuate exclusive societies at the expense of the majority; i.e. Hunger Games, The Hand Maid’s Tale, The Giver, A Clockwork Orange, etc), it is telling that time occupies such a prominent space in our cultural narratives about the world we want to live in. All the way back in the 1930s, John Maynard Keynes (the father of the Gross Domestic Product index and the primary architect of our consumer based economy) thought that the technology and productivity gains of the 20th century would lead to fifteen hour work weeks by the early 2000s. This aspiration has yet to be realized as we continue to labor away, yet the sentiment has only become more popular.
Building on the social critique of thinkers like the late Andre Gorz, books like How to do Nothing and Rest offer both philosophical and pragmatic reflections on how we should inhabit our time, advocating for doing less and going slower. Think tanks like the Long Now Foundation are popping up to advance intellectual heuristics and paradigms that decompress time and consider much longer time arcs. Social justice advocates and community organizers are championing rest as a primary activity of resistance to ecologically devastating and capitalistic tendencies. Mental health experts are pointing to the growing inability to spend time with ourselves (exacerbated by an endless array of digital distractions) as the primary driver of loneliness. The psychotherapist Francis Weller speaks of “living at the pace of geological time” and the philosopher Charles Eisenstein writes about what he calls “representational reality,” of which clocks and calendars as measures of time are abstractions that ultimately perpetuate separation from each other and the world. Even the privileged elite of Silicon Valley are beginning to question hustle culture, and in some cases such as the FIRE movement, completely abandon the idea that work should be the primary activity of humans until they retire sometime in their sixties.
It seems the dominant and enduring crisis of modern post-industrial society is one of time. Perhaps through quantum entanglement reality is revealing itself, connecting people across decades through common reflections and conclusions regarding how time should be inhabited. Perhaps our unhealthy relationship to time is the root of the evils we face today, from climate crisis to economic inequity. I, for one, am convinced that our capacity to effectively embrace the mystery and absurdity of life is found in slowing down and doing less. How we inhabit time, it seems to me, is a precondition, not the product of, the utopian world we long for.
If you made it to the end of this short essay then I’m assuming you found something interesting here. If so, please join me and an intimate group of others this Sunday at noon for Unwordable World Building. We’ll unpack these themes further and explore the ways we encounter possible futures. I hope to see you there. If not, consider supporting this endeavor by sharing this newsletter with friends, or just leaving a comment or liking this article. As always, your encouragement means the world. - Joel
this also reminds me of the concept of decolonizing time. the calendar and the clock as the western world understood it was thrust upon indigenous communities and forced adoption of it. recently i listened to a podcast called "Indian Time" on CBC that explains the connection native communities in Canada have to "time" is so entirely different than our own. the notion of "being on-time" and watching the clock is foreign and not in alignment with our innate human needs and the rhythms of our planet. they described "being on time" in indigenous terms simply meant you got there when you got there- you wouldn't admonish someone for stopping to talk to a friend on their way or taking a rest. our concept of time itself is a simulation- an abstraction as you describe.