Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence.
Alan Watts
Take out a piece of paper and draw a vertical line down the middle. On one side of the page, make a list everything in the world you’re sure is conscious; on the other, make a list everything you’re sure is not. Unless you’re one of those people who pretends that consciousness doesn’t exist, it’s a safe bet that you’ll have human beings on the conscious side of the ledger - and more than likely, that you’ll have at least some other animals there as well to keep us company. Unless you’re a New Ager or dabbling in psychedelics, it’s an equally safe bet that you’ll have things like rocks, potatoes, and potato peelers on the other side: the unconscious side.
One thing you probably won’t have on your list of conscious things is: the universe. To most people (myself included), the idea that the universe might be viewed as a conscious entity is outlandish in the extreme - the kind of view that most scientifically-minded people (again, myself included) would be unwilling to admit to, at least around their scientifically-minded friends and colleagues. But as outlandish as it might sound, it actually turns out to be a straightforward implication of evolutionary theory.
This is the case, at least, if we assume that not only is the body a product of evolution, but so too is the mind. And this is a view that really everyone should hold today. We know that the mind is dependent on the activity of the brain, and we know that the brain is a product of evolution; thus, we know that the mind is a product of evolution. Furthermore, if we look at some of the fundamental constituents of the human mind, we see that they have clear links to survival and reproductive success: fear motivates the avoidance of danger, sexual desire motivates behavior that leads to the production of babies, and so on. The case that the mind evolved is strong.
As soon as we recognize this, though, our view of the mind and its place in nature is radically altered. A recurring theme in the belief systems of the world is the idea that human beings are composed of two separate and separable parts: a physical body and an immaterial mind or soul. Not everyone has held this view, but it’s also not unique to the Western tradition. Many have believed that the mind stands outside nature - that it’s a part of us that transcends the material world and our biology.
Evolutionary theory completely overthrows this view. From an evolutionary perspective, it’s impossible to maintain that the mind stands outside nature. Instead, mind is a tiny fragment of nature, valued only by those tiny fragments of nature that possess it. To put it another way, mind is not something separate from matter; it’s a process embodied in matter - in our case, the matter constituting the human brain.
Now here’s the point: When we fully digest the idea that the mind is the activity of the evolved brain, it radically transforms our view of the mind’s place in the universe… and our view of the universe itself. The physical universe ceases to be an unconscious object, observed and explored by conscious minds which somehow stand above or outside it. Conscious minds are instead a part of the universe, and thus the universe itself is partially conscious.
The implications of this view are striking. When we contemplate the universe, part of the universe becomes conscious of itself; when we marvel at the universe, part of the universe marvels at itself; and when we come to understand the universe, part of the universe comes to understand itself. As Carl Sagan put it, “humans are the stuff of the cosmos examining itself.” And Darwin’s theory of evolution explains how this could be so: how clumps of matter could come to be organized in such a way that they’re able to examine and understand themselves and the rest of the cosmos.
The history of the universe looks very different from this perspective. For billions of years, the universe was here and no one knew about it. More to the point, for all that time, the universe itself had no idea that it existed. But then, around 13.82 billion years after the Big Bang, and almost four billion years after life first evolved, something strange began to happen. Tiny parts of the universe became conscious, and came to know something about themselves and the universe of which they’re a part. Eventually, some of these tiny parts of the universe - the parts we call “scientists” and “scientifically-informed laypeople” - came to understand the Big Bang and the evolutionary process through which they had come to exist. After an eternity of unconsciousness, the universe now had some glimmering awareness that it existed, and some understanding of where it had come from. This might sound like a strange thing for a universe to do, but perhaps it’s not; perhaps many possible universes would become conscious of themselves given sufficient time.
So much for the history of the universe; what about its destiny? In the long-term, the prospects are bleak: The projected heat death of the universe makes it all but certain that the time will come when the lights go out, and the universe slips back into darkness. But for how long will it remain in its present semi-conscious state? The answer depends on how prolific the universe is at producing conscious life. If consciousness is widespread in the universe, then the odds are that at least some pockets of consciousness on some planets will survive for a reasonable length of time. For all we know, though, ours may be the only planet in the universe hosting mind and consciousness. If so, then our decisions and our conduct will determine whether the universe has a long future as a conscious entity or will soon lapse back into unconsciousness.
That said, one might wonder whether, in the grand scheme of things, it really matters. It may be pure anthropocentrism to assume that a universe with consciousness is better than one without. Conscious beings are often disgruntled and sometimes simply miserable, and perhaps on balance an unconscious universe would be the more desirable. But although it’s possible to entertain such thoughts in principle, it’s hard in practice to duck the conclusion that it would be a terrible shame if the universe were not to remain conscious for as long as possible. Nonetheless, it may be the fate of the universe to spend an eternity in darkness, save one brief flash of self-awareness in the middle of nowhere.
Parts of this post were excerpted, with changes, from the book Darwin, God and the Meaning of Life by Steve Stewart-Williams - available now from Amazon.com, Amazon.ca, and Amazon.uk.
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Wowza! What a stunning and stellar piece, Steve. Right in line with where my head and heart (and contemplative time) have been recently. Keep up with you some on twitter. Now looking forward to digging into more of your work 💥
The error in the logic of the piece, where mysticism begins to infect it, is here:
"Conscious minds are instead a part of the universe, and thus the universe itself is partially conscious."