The Living Universe - Duane Elgin [7]
Living in a Dead Universe
For perspective, it is important to look carefully at the perceptual paradigm of a dead universe. Particularly in the world of science, it is not uncommon to encounter the view that we live in a universe that, at its foundation, lacks feeling, consciousness, and vitality. This view is clearly expressed, for example, by Susan Blackmore, an author on human consciousness, who said: “We live in a pointless universe. We’re here for no reason at all. There isn’t a soul. There isn’t a spirit. We’re not going to live forever in some kind of heaven . . . there are no paranormal phenomena, although I can’t be sure of that.”2
Blackmore provides a stark description of a non-living or dead universe—and she is not alone.3 This has been the established view of many scientists for three centuries. For more than 300 years, science has viewed the physical universe as “all there is”: all that exists are various combinations of inert matter and to suggest otherwise is to regress into superstition. Matter, at the atomic level, is assumed to lack any kind of inherent vitality. In turn, aliveness, thought, and feelings are phenomena that mysteriously arise when matter evolves to high levels of complexity in its physical organization and creates beings like ourselves. All of existence is explained solely in material terms (except for the part about life spontaneously organizing itself and becoming conscious of itself). There appears to be no need for an invisible consciousness because the workings of the entire universe are explained through the workings of matter. Because human aliveness, thought, and feeling are assumed to have emerged from chemical reactions between non-living matter, the death of the physical body is seen as the end of consciousness. Understandably, in this view of the universe, more “basic” forms of matter (atoms and molecules) are thought to have no vitality or consciousness of any kind.
If the foundations of the universe are regarded as non-living, then “life” seems to have emerged only recently as matter somehow managed to organize itself into ever-higher levels of complexity—evolving from atoms to molecules to cells to organisms. Consciousness, or a knowing capacity, is viewed as a biological phenomena located in the physical brain.
If we assume the universe is non-living and without sentience at its foundations, it is natural to further assume there is no higher purpose or meaning to life. Love and happiness are no more than chemical reactions in the body and have no other meaning or significance. There is no prospect of a future beyond our physical existence. Because the universe will disperse and the stars burn out, all life will eventually die off and be forgotten, meaning nothing. Material possessions and accomplishments are the primary expression of one’s identity, and thus an important source of happiness.
In this matter-only view of the universe, it is only logical to conclude that the most intensely living (we humans) have the right to exploit that which is dead (matter and the rest of nature) for our own purposes. Nature is our warehouse, filled with resources for our use. How should we relate to the world? By exploiting that which is dead (nature) on behalf of the living (ourselves). A tendency toward materialism, hedonism, and the exploitation of nature are predictable outcomes from a dead-universe perspective.
Despite its bleak outlook, a dead-universe perspective represents a critically important stage in humanity’s long journey of awakening. In pulling back from nature and pulling apart from one another, we have also become much stronger and more differentiated as individuals. My sense is that we humans have separated ourselves as far from union with nature as we will ever go. Now we have little choice: If we are to continue