Clearly, in the transition from the mysticism of the Middle Ages to the quantum physics of today, our role, our place in the universe, has shifted dramatically with each scientific revolution. Our world has been expanding exponentially, forcing us to change our conception of ourselves. When I view this historic progression, I am sometimes overwhelmed by two contradictory emotions, as I gaze upon the seemingly limitless number of stars in the celestial firmament or dwarfed by the immensity of the universe. When contemplating the vast, empty expanse of the universe, Blaise Pascal once wrote, “The eternal silence of those infinite spaces strikes me with terror.” On the other hand, I cannot help but be mesmerized by the splendid diversity of life and the exquisite complexity of our biological existence.
Today, when approaching the question of scientifically ascertaining our role in the universe, there are in some sense two extreme philosophical points of view represented in the physics community:

The Copernican principle and The Anthropic principle.

The Copernican principle states that there is nothing special about our place in the universe. (Some wags have dubbed this the mediocrity principle.) So far, every astronomical discovery seems to vindicate this point of view. Not only did Copernicus banish Earth from the center of the universe, Hubble displaced the entire Milky Way galaxy from the center of the universe, giving us instead an expanding universe of billions of galaxies. The recent discovery of dark matter and dark energy underscores the fact that the higher chemical elements that make up our bodies comprise only 0.03% of the total matter/energy content of the universe. With the inflation theory, we must contemplate the fact that the visible universe is like a grain of sand embedded in a much larger, flat universe, and that this universe itself may be constantly sprouting new universes. And finally, if M-theory proves successful, we must face the possibility that even the familiar dimensionality of space and time must be expanded to eleven dimensions. Not only have we been banished from the center of the universe, we may find that even the visible universe is but a tiny fraction of a much larger multiverse.

Faced with the enormity of this realization, one is reminded of the poem by Stephen Crane who once wrote;

A man said to the universe:

“Sir, I exist!”

“However,” replied the universe,

“The fact has not created in me

A sense of obligation.”

One is reminded of Douglas Adams‘s science fiction spoof, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, in which there is a device called the Total Perspective Vortex, which is guaranteed to transform any sane person into a raving lunatic. Inside the chamber is a map of the entire universe with a tiny arrow reading, “You are here.”

But at the other extreme, we have the anthropic principle, which makes us realize that a miraculous set of “accidents” makes consciousness possible in this three-dimensional universe of ours. There is a ridiculously narrow band of parameters that make intelligent life a reality, and we happen to thrive in this band. The stability of the proton, the size of the stars, the existence of higher elements, and so on, all seem to be finely tuned to allow for complex forms of life and consciousness. One can debate whether this fortuitous circumstance is one of design or accident, but no one can dispute the intricate tuning necessary to make us possible.

Stephen Hawking remarks, “If the rate of expansion one second after the big bang had been smaller by even one part in a hundred thousand million, [the universe] would have recollapsed before it reached its present size. . . The odds against a universe like ours emerging out of something like the big bang are enormous. I think there are clearly religious implications.”

We often fail to appreciate how precious life and consciousness really are. We forget that something as simple as liquid water is one of the most precious substances in the universe, that only Earth (and perhaps Europa, a moon of Jupiter) has liquid water in any quantity in the solar system, perhaps even in this sector of the galaxy. It is also likely that the human brain is the most complex object nature has created in the solar system, perhaps the nearest star. When we view the vivid pictures of the lifeless terrain of Mars or Venus, we are struck by the fact that those surfaces are totally barren of cities and lights or even complex organic chemicals of life. Countless worlds exist in deep space devoid of life, much less of intelligence. It should make us appreciate how delicate life is, and what a miracle it is that it flourishes on Earth.

The Copernican principle and the anthropic principle are in some sense opposite perspectives which bracket the extremes of our existence and help us understand our true role in the universe. While the Copernican principle forces us to confront the sheer enormity of the universe, and perhaps the multiverse, the anthropic principle forces us to realize how rare life and consciousness really are.

But ultimately, the debate between the Copernican principle and the anthropic principle cannot determine our rules in the universe unless we view this question from an ever larger perspective, from the point of view of the quantum theory.

Fuck man, I finished my blunt. Well, the rest is up to you. Stoner waffle or does it make sense?

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