The Holographic Universe (49 page)

UNSOLVED PUZZLES
IN CHEMISTRY

Chemist Ilya Prigogine
recently noted that Bohm's idea of the implicate-explicate order may help
explain certain anomalous phenomena in chemistry. Science has long believed
that one of the most absolute rules in the universe is that things always tend
toward a greater state of disorder. If you drop a stereo off of the Empire
State Building, when it crashes into the sidewalk it doesn't become more
ordered and turn into a VCR. It becomes more disordered and turns into a pile
of splintered parts.

Prigogine has discovered
that this is not true for all things in the universe. He points out that, when
mixed together, some chemicals develop into a more ordered arrangement, not a
more disordered one. He calls these spontaneously appearing ordered systems
“dissipative structures” and won a Nobel Prize for unraveling their mysteries.
But how can a new and more complex system just suddenly pop into existence? Put
another way, where do dissipative structures come from? Prigogine and others
have suggested that, far from materializing out of nowhere, they are an
indication of a deeper level of order in the universe, evidence of the
implicate aspects of reality becoming explicate.

If this is true, it
could have profound implications and, among other things, lead to a deeper
understanding of how new levels of complexity—such as attitudes and new
patterns of behavior—pop into existence in the human consciousness and even how
that most intriguing complexity of all, life itself, appeared on the earth
several billion years ago.

NEW KINDS OF
COMPUTERS

The holographic brain
model has also recently been extended into the world of computers. In the past,
computer scientists thought that the best way to build a better computer was
simply to build a bigger computer. But in the last half decade or so,
researchers have developed a new strategy, and instead of building single
monolithic machines, some have started connecting scores of little computers together
in “neural networks” that more closely resemble the biological structure of the
human brain. Recently, Marcus S. Cohen, a computer scientist at New Mexico
State University, pointed out that processors that rely on interfering waves of
light passing through “multiplexed holographic gratings” might provide an even
better analog of the brain's neural structure. Similarly, physicist Dana Z.
Anderson of the University of Colorado has recently shown how holographic
gratings could be used to build an “optical memory” that exhibits associative
recall.

As exciting as these
developments are, they are still just further refinements of the mechanistic
approach to understanding the universe, advances that take place only within
the material framework of reality. But as we have seen, the holographic idea's
most extraordinary assertion is that the materiality of the universe may be an
illusion, and physical reality may be only a small part of a vast and sentient
nonphysical cosmos. If this is
true
, what implications does it have for
the future? How do we begin to go about truly penetrating the mysteries of
these subtler dimensions?

The Need for a
Basic Restructuring of Science

Currently one of the
best tools we have for exploring the unknown aspects of reality is science. And
yet when it comes to explaining the psychic and spiritual dimensions of human
existence, science in the main has repeatedly fallen short of the mark.
Clearly, if science is to advance further in these areas, it needs to undergo a
basic restructuring, but what specifically might such a restructuring entail?

Obviously the first and
most necessary step is to accept the existence of psychic and spiritual
phenomena. Willis Harman, the president of the Institute of Noetic Sciences and
a former senior social scientist at Stanford Research Institute International,
feels this acceptance is crucial not only to science, but to the survival of
human civilization. Moreover, Harman, who has written extensively on the need
for a basic restructuring of science, is astonished that this acceptance has
not yet taken place. “Why don't we assume that any class of experiences or
phenomena that have been reported, through the ages and across cultures, has a
face validity that cannot be denied?” he asks.

As has been mentioned,
at least part of the reason is the longstanding bias Western science has
against such phenomena, but the issue is not quite so simple as this. Consider
for example the past-life memories of people under hypnosis. Whether these are
actual memories of previous lives or not has yet to be proved, but the fact
remains, the human unconscious has a natural propensity for generating at least
apparent
memories of previous incarnations. In general, the orthodox
psychiatric community ignores this fact Why?

At first glance the
answer would appear to be because most psychiatrists just don't believe in such
things, but this is not necessarily the case. Florida psychiatrist Brian L.
Weiss, a graduate of the Yale School of Medicine and currently chairman of
psychiatry at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami, says that since the
publication of his best-selling book
Many Lives, Many Masters
in 1988—in
which he discusses how he turned from being a skeptic to a believer in
reincarnation after one of his patients started talking spontaneously about her
past lives while under hypnosis—he has been deluged with letters and telephone
calls from psychiatrists who say that they, too, are secret believers. “I think
that is just the tip of the iceberg,” says Weiss. “There are psychiatrists who
write me they've been doing regression therapy for ten to twenty years, in the
privacy of their office, and ‘please don't tell anyone, but . . .’ Many
are
receptive to it but they won't admit it.”

Similarly, in a recent
conversation with Whitton when I asked him if he felt reincarnation would ever
become an accepted scientific fact, he replied, “I think it already is. My
experience with scientists is that if they've read the literature, they believe
in reincarnation. The evidence is just so compelling that intellectual assent
is virtually natural.”

Weiss's and Whitton's
opinions seem borne out by a recent survey on psychic phenomena. After being
assured that their replies would remain anonymous, 58 percent of the 228
psychiatrists who responded (many of them the heads of departments and the
deans of medical schools) said that they believed “an understanding of psychic
phenomena” was important to future graduates of psychiatry! Forty-four percent
admitted believing that psychic factors were important in the healing process.

So it appears that fear
of ridicule may be as much if not more of a stumbling block as disbelief in
getting the scientific establishment to begin to treat psychic research with
the seriousness it deserves. We need more trailblazers like Weiss and Whitton
(and the myriad other courageous researchers whose work has been discussed in
this book) to go public with their private beliefs and discoveries. In brief,
we need the parapsychological equivalent of a Rosa Parks.

Another feature that
must be a part of the restructuring of science is a broadening of the
definition of what constitutes scientific evidence. Psychic and spiritual
phenomena have played a significant role in human history and have helped shape
some of the most fundamental aspects of our culture. But because they are not
easy to rope in and scrutinize in a laboratory setting, science has tended to
ignore them. Even worse, when they are studied, it is often the least important
aspects of the phenomena that are isolated and catalogued. For instance, one of
the few discoveries regarding OBEs that is considered valid in a scientific
sense is that the brain waves change when an OBEer exits the body. And yet,
when one reads accounts like Monroe's, one realizes that if his experiences are
real, they involve discoveries that could arguably have as much impact on human
history as Columbus's discovery of the New World or the invention of the atomic
bomb. Indeed, those who have watched a truly talented clairvoyant at work know
immediately that they have witnessed something far more profound than is
conveyed in the dry statistics of R. H. and Louisa Rhine.

This is not to say that
the Rhines’ work is not important. But when vast numbers of people start
reporting the same experiences, their anecdotal accounts should also be viewed
as important evidence. They should not be dismissed merely because they cannot
be documented as rigorously as other and often less significant features of the
same phenomenon can be documented. As Stevenson states, “I believe it is better
to learn what is probable about important matters than to be certain about
trivial ones.” It is worth noting that this rule of thumb is already applied to
other more accepted natural phenomena. The idea that the universe began in a single,
primordial explosion, or Big Bang, is accepted without question by most
scientists. And this is odd because, although there are compelling reasons to
believe that this is true, no one has ever proved that it is true. On the other
hand, if a near-death psychologist were to state flatly that the realm of light
NDEers travel to during their experiences is an actual other level of reality,
the psychologist would be attacked for making a statement that cannot be
proved. And this is odd, for there are equally compelling reasons to believe
this is true. In other words, science already accepts what is probable about
very important matters
if
those matters fall into the category of
“fashionable things to believe,” but not if they fall into the category of “unfashionable
things to believe.” This double standard must be eliminated before science can
begin to make significant inroads into the study of both psychic and spiritual
phenomena.

Most crucial of all,
science must replace its enamorment with objectivity—the idea that the best way
to study nature is to be detached, analytical, and dispassionately
objective—with a more participatory approach. The importance of this shift has
been stressed by numerous researchers, including Harman. We have also seen
evidence of its necessity repeatedly throughout this book. In a universe in
which the consciousness of a physicist affects the reality of a subatomic
particle, the attitude of a doctor affects whether or not a placebo works, the
mind of an experimenter affects the way a machine operates, and the imaginal
can spill over into physical reality, we can no longer pretend that we are
separate from that which we are studying. In a holographic and omnijective
universe, a universe in which all things are part of a seamless continuum,
strict objectivity ceases to be possible.

This is especially true
when studying psychic and spiritual phenomena and appears to be why some
laboratories are able to achieve spectacular results when performing
remote-viewing experiments, and some fail miserably. Indeed, some researchers
in the paranormal field have already shifted from a strictly objective approach
to a more participatory approach. For example, Valerie Hunt discovered that her
experimental results were affected by the presence of individuals who had been
drinking alcohol and thus won't allow any such individuals in her lab while she
is taking measurements. In this same vein, Russian parapsychologists Dubrov and
Pushkin have found that they have more success duplicating the findings of
other parapsychologists if they hypnotize all of the test subjects present. It
appears that hypnosis eliminates the interference caused by the conscious
thoughts and beliefs of the test subjects, and helps produce “cleaner” results.
Although such practices may seem odd in the extreme to us today, they may
become standard operating procedures as science unravels further secrets of the
holographic universe.

A shift from objectivity
to participation will also most assuredly affect the role of the scientist As
it becomes increasingly apparent that it is the
experience
of observing
that is important, and not just the act of observation, it is logical to assume
that scientists in turn will see themselves less and less as observers and more
and more as experiencers. As Harman states, “A willingness to be transformed is
an essential characteristic of the participatory scientist.”

Again, there is evidence
that a few such transformations are already taking place. For instance, instead
of just observing what happened to the Conibo after they consumed the soul-vine
ayahuasca
, Harner imbibed the hallucinogen himself. It is obvious that
not all anthropologists would be willing to take such a risk, but it is also
clear that by becoming a participant instead of just an observer, he was able
to learn much more than he ever could have by just sitting on the sidelines and
taking notes.

Harner's success
suggests that instead of just interviewing NDEers, OBEers, and other journeyers
into the subtler realms, participatory scientists of the future may devise
methods of traveling there themselves. Already lucid-dream researchers are
exploring and reporting back on their own lucid-dream experiences. Others may
develop different and even more novel techniques for exploring the inner dimensions.
For instance, although not a scientist in the strictest definition of the term,
Monroe has developed recordings of special rhythmic sounds that he feels
facilitate out-of-body experiences. He has also founded a research center
called the Monroe Institute of Applied Sciences in the Blue Ridge Mountains and
claims to have trained hundreds of individuals to make the same out-of-body
journeys he has made. Are such developments harbingers of the future,
fore-shadowings of a time when not only astronauts but “psychonauts” become the
heroes we watch on the evening news?