In 1982 a remarkable event took place. At the
University of Paris, a research team led by physicist Alain Aspect performed
what may turn out to be one of the most important experiments of the 20th
century. You did not hear about it on the evening news. In fact,
unless you are in the habit of reading scientific journals you probably
have never even heard Aspect's name, though there are some who believe
his discovery may change the face of science.
Aspect and his team discovered that under certain circumstances
subatomic particles such as electrons are able to instantaneously communicate
with each other regardless of the distance separating them. It doesn't
matter whether they are 10 feet or 10 billion miles apart. Somehow each
particle always seems to know what the other is doing. The problem with
this feat is that it violates Einstein's long-held tenet that no communication
can travel faster than the speed of light. Since traveling faster than
the speed of light is tantamount to breaking the time barrier, this daunting
prospect has caused some physicists to try to come up with elaborate ways
to explain away Aspect's findings. But it has inspired others to offer
even more radical explanations.
University of London physicist David Böhm, for example,
believes Aspect's findings imply that objective reality does not exist,
that despite its apparent solidity the universe is at heart a phantasm,
a gigantic and splendidly detailed hologram. To understand why Böhm
makes this startling assertion, one must first understand a little about
holograms. A hologram is a three-dimensional photograph made with the aid
of a laser.
To make a hologram, the object to be photographed is first
bathed in the light of a laser beam. Then a second laser beam is bounced
off the reflected light of the first and the resulting interference pattern
(the area where the two laser beams commingle) is captured on film. When
the film is developed, it looks like a meaningless swirl of light and dark
lines. But as soon as the developed film is illuminated by another laser
beam, a three-dimensional image of the original object appears.
The three-dimensionality of such images is not the only
remarkable characteristic of holograms. If a hologram of a rose is cut
in half and then illuminated by a laser, each half will still be found
to contain the entire image of the rose. Indeed, even if the halves are
divided again, each snippet of film will always be found to contain a smaller
but intact version of the original image. Unlike normal photographs, every
part of a hologram contains all the information possessed by the whole.
The "whole in every part" nature of a hologram provides
us with an entirely new way of understanding organization and order. For
most of its history, Western science has labored under the bias that the
best way to understand a physical phenomenon, whether a frog or an atom,
is to dissect it and study its respective parts. A hologram teaches us
that some things in the universe may not lend themselves to this approach.
If we try to take apart something constructed holographically, we will
not get the pieces of which it is made, we will only get smaller wholes.
This insight suggested to Böhm another way of understanding
Aspect's discovery. Böhm believes the reason subatomic particles are
able to remain in contact with one another regardless of the distance separating
them is not because they are sending some sort of mysterious signal back
and forth, but because their separateness is an illusion. He argues that
at some deeper level of reality such particles are not individual entities,
but are actually extensions of the same fundamental something.
To enable people to better visualize what he means, Böhm
offers the following illustration. Imagine an aquarium containing a fish.
Imagine also that you are unable to see the aquarium directly and your
knowledge about it and what it contains comes from two television cameras,
one directed at the aquarium's front and the other directed at its side.
As you stare at the two television monitors, you might assume that the
fish on each of the screens are separate entities. After all, because the
cameras are set at different angles, each of the images will be slightly
different. But as you continue to watch the two fish, you will eventually
become aware that there is a certain relationship between them. When one
turns, the other also makes a slightly different but corresponding turn;
when one faces the front, the other always faces toward the side. If you
remain unaware of the full scope of the situation, you might even conclude
that the fish must be instantaneously communicating with one another, but
this is clearly not the case.
This, says Böhm, is precisely what is going on between
the subatomic particles in Aspect's experiment. According to Böhm,
the apparent faster-than-light connection between subatomic particles is
really telling us that there is a deeper level of reality we are not privy
to, a more complex dimension beyond our own that is analogous to the aquarium.
And, he adds, we view objects such as subatomic particles as separate from
one another because we are seeing only a portion of their reality. Such
particles are not separate "parts", but facets of a deeper and more underlying
unity that is ultimately as holographic and indivisible as the previously
mentioned rose. And since everything in physical reality is comprised of
these "eidolons", the universe is itself a projection, a hologram.
In addition to its phantomlike nature, such a universe
would possess other rather startling features. If the apparent separateness
of subatomic particles is illusory, it means that at a deeper level of
reality all things in the universe are infinitely interconnected. The electrons
in a carbon atom in the human brain are connected to the subatomic particles
that comprise every salmon that swims, every heart that beats, and every
star that shimmers in the sky. Everything interpenetrates everything,
and although human nature may seek to categorize and pigeonhole and subdivide,
the various phenomena of the universe, all apportionments are of necessity
artificial and all of nature is ultimately a seamless web.
In a holographic universe, even time and space could no
longer be viewed as fundamentals. Because concepts such as location break
down in a universe in which nothing is truly separate from anything else,
time and three-dimensional space, like the images of the fish on the TV
monitors, would also have to be viewed as projections of this deeper order.
At its deeper level reality is a sort of superhologram in which the past,
present, and future all exist simultaneously. This suggests that given
the proper tools it might even be possible to someday reach into the superholographic
level of reality and pluck out scenes from the long-forgotten past.
What else the superhologram contains is an open-ended
question. Allowing, for the sake of argument, that the superhologram is
the matrix that has given birth to everything in our universe, at the very
least it contains every subatomic particle that has been or will be --
every configuration of matter and energy that is possible, from snowflakes
to quasars, from blue whales to gamma rays. It must be seen as a sort of
cosmic storehouse of "All That Is."
Although Böhm concedes that we have no way of knowing
what else might lie hidden in the superhologram, he does venture to say
that we have no reason to assume it does not contain more. Or as he puts
it, perhaps the superholographic level of reality is a "mere stage" beyond
which lies "an infinity of further development". Böhm is not the only
researcher who has found evidence that the universe is a hologram. Working
independently in the field of brain research, Standford neurophysiologist
Karl Pribram has also become persuaded of the holographic nature of reality.
Pribram was drawn to the holographic model by the puzzle
of how and where memories are stored in the brain. For decades numerous
studies have shown that rather than being confined to a specific location,
memories are dispersed throughout the brain. In a series of landmark experiments
in the 1920s, brain scientist Karl Lashley found that no matter what portion
of a rat's brain he removed he was unable to eradicate its memory of how
to perform complex tasks it had learned prior to surgery. The only problem
was that no one was able to come up with a mechanism that might explain
this curious "whole in every part" nature of memory storage.
Then in the 1960s Pribram encountered the concept of holography
and realized he had found the explanation brain scientists had been looking
for. Pribram believes memories are encoded not in neurons, or small groupings
of neurons, but in patterns of nerve impulses that crisscross the entire
brain in the same way that patterns of laser light interference crisscross
the entire area of a piece of film containing a holographic image. In other
words, Pribram believes the brain is itself a hologram.
Pribram's theory also explains how the human brain can
store so many memories in so little space. It has been estimated that the
human brain has the capacity to memorize something on the order of 10 billion
bits of information during the average human lifetime (or roughly the same
amount of information contained in five sets of the Encyclopaedia Britannica).
Similarly, it has been discovered that in addition to their other capabilities,
holograms possess an astounding capacity for information storage -- simply
by changing the angle at which the two lasers strike a piece of photographic
film, it is possible to record many different images on the same surface.
It has been demonstrated that one cubic centimeter of film can hold as
many as 10 billion bits of information.
Our uncanny ability to quickly retrieve whatever information
we need from the enormous store of our memories becomes more understandable
if the brain functions according to holographic principles. If a friend
asks you to tell him what comes to mind when he says the word "zebra",
you do not have to clumsily sort back through some gigantic and cerebral
alphabetic file to arrive at an answer. Instead, associations like "striped",
"horselike", and "animal native to Africa" all pop into your head instantly.
Indeed, one of the most amazing things about the human thinking process
is that every piece of information seems instantly cross- correlated with
every other piece of information -- another feature intrinsic to the hologram.
Because every portion of a hologram is
infinitely interconnected with every other portion, it
is perhaps nature's supreme example of a cross-correlated system.
The storage of memory is not the only neurophysiological
puzzle that becomes more tractable in light of Pribram's holographic model
of the brain. Another is how the brain is able to translate the avalanche
of frequencies it receives via the senses (light frequencies, sound frequencies,
and so on) into the concrete world of our perceptions. Encoding and decoding
frequencies is precisely what a hologram does best. Just as a hologram
functions as a sort of lens, a translating device able to convert an apparently
meaningless blur of frequencies into a coherent image, Pribram believes
the brain also comprises a lens and uses holographic principles to mathematically
convert the frequencies it receives through the senses into the inner world
of our perceptions.
An impressive body of evidence suggests that the brain
uses holographic principles to perform its operations. Pribram's theory,
in fact, has gained increasing support among neurophysiologists. Argentinian-Italian
researcher Hugo Zucarelli recently extended the holographic model into
the world of acoustic phenomena. Puzzled by the fact that humans can locate
the source of sounds without moving their heads, even if they only possess
hearing in one ear, Zucarelli discovered that holographic principles can
explain this ability. Zucarelli has also developed the technology of holophonic
sound, a recording technique able to reproduce acoustic situations with
an almost uncanny realism.
Pribram's belief that our brains mathematically construct
"hard" reality by relying on input from a frequency domain has also received
a good deal of experimental support. It has been found that each of our
senses is sensitive to a much broader range of frequencies than was previously
suspected. Researchers have discovered, for instance, that our visual systems
are sensitive to sound frequencies, that our sense of smell is in part
dependent on what are now called "osmic frequencies", and that even the
cells in our bodies are sensitive to a broad range of frequencies.
Such findings suggest that it is only in the holographic domain of consciousness
that such frequencies are sorted out and divided up into conventional perceptions.
But the most mind-boggling aspect of Pribram's holographic
model of the brain is what happens when it is put together with Böhm's
theory. For if the concreteness of the world is but a secondary reality
and what is "there" is actually a holographic blur of frequencies, and
if the brain is also a hologram and only selects some of the frequencies
out of this blur and mathematically transforms them into sensory perceptions,
what becomes of objective reality? Put quite simply, it ceases to exist.
As the religions of the East have long upheld, the material world is Maya,
an illusion, and although we may think we are physical beings moving through
a physical world, this too is an illusion. We are really "receivers" floating
through a kaleidoscopic sea of frequency, and what we extract from this
sea and transmogrify into physical reality is but one channel from many
extracted out of the superhologram.
This striking new picture of reality, the synthesis of
Böhm and Pribram's views, has come to be called the holographic paradigm,
and although many scientists have greeted it with skepticism, it has galvanized
others. A small but growing group of researchers believe it may be the
most accurate model of reality science has arrived at thus far. More than
that, some believe it may solve some mysteries that have never before been
explainable by science and even establish the paranormal as a part of nature.
Numerous researchers, including Böhm and Pribram,
have noted that many para-psychological phenomena become much more understandable
in terms of the holographic paradigm. In a universe in which individual
brains are actually indivisible portions of the greater hologram and everything
is infinitely interconnected, telepathy may merely be the accessing of
the holographic level. It is obviously much easier to understand
how information can travel from the mind of individual 'A' to that of individual
'B' at a far distance point and helps to understand a number of unsolved
puzzles in psychology. In particular, Grof feels the holographic paradigm
offers a model for understanding many of the baffling phenomena experienced
by individuals during altered states of consciousness.
In the 1950s, while conducting research into the beliefs
of LSD as a psychotherapeutic tool, Grof had one female patient who suddenly
became convinced she had assumed the identity of a female of a species
of prehistoric reptile. During the course of her hallucination, she not
only gave a richly detailed description of what it felt like to be encapsuled
in such a form, but noted that the portion of the male of the species's
anatomy was a patch of colored scales on the side of its head. What was
startling to Grof was that although the woman had no prior knowledge about
such things, a conversation with a zoologist later confirmed that in certain
species of reptiles colored areas on the head do indeed play an important
role as triggers of sexual arousal.
The woman's experience was not unique. During the course
of his research, Grof encountered examples of patients regressing and identifying
with virtually every species on the evolutionary tree (research findings
which helped influence the man-into-ape scene in the movie Altered States).
Moreover, he found that such experiences frequently contained obscure zoological
details which turned out to be accurate.
Regressions into the animal kingdom were not the only
puzzling psychological phenomena Grof encountered. He also had patients
who appeared to tap into some sort of collective or racial unconscious.
Individuals with little or no education suddenly gave detailed descriptions
of Zoroastrian funerary practices and scenes from Hindu mythology. In other
categories of experience, individuals gave persuasive accounts of out-of-body
journeys, of precognitive glimpses of the future, of regressions into apparent
past-life incarnations.
In later research, Grof found the same range of phenomena
manifested in therapy sessions which did not involve the use of drugs.
Because the common element in such experiences appeared to be the transcending
of an individual's consciousness beyond the usual boundaries of ego and/or
limitations of space and time, Grof called such manifestations "transpersonal
experiences", and in the late '60s he helped found a branch of psychology
called "transpersonal psychology"
devoted entirely to their study.
Although Grof's newly founded Association of Transpersonal
Psychology garnered a rapidly growing group of like-minded professionals
and has become a respected branch of psychology, for years neither Grof
or any of his colleagues were able to offer a mechanism for explaining
the bizarre psychological phenomena they were witnessing. But that has
changed with the advent of the holographic paradigm.
As Grof recently noted, if the mind is actually part of
a continuum, a labyrinth that is connected not only to every other mind
that exists or has existed, but to every atom, organism, and region in
the vastness of space and time itself,the fact that it is able to occasionally
make forays into the labyrinth and have transpersonal experiences no longer
seems so strange.
The holographic paradigm also has implications for so-called
hard sciences like biology. Keith Floyd, a psychologist at Virginia Intermont
College, has pointed out that if the concreteness of reality is but a holographic
illusion, it would no longer be true to say the brain produces consciousness.
Rather, it is consciousness that creates the appearance of the brain as
well as the body and everything else around us we interpret as physical.
Such a turnabout in the way we view biological structures
has caused researchers to point out that medicine and our understanding
of the healing process could also be transformed by the holographic paradigm.
If the apparent physical structure of the body is but a holographic projection
of consciousness, it becomes clear that each of us is much more responsible
for our health than current medical wisdom allows. What we now view as
miraculous remissions of disease may actually be due to changes in consciousness
which in turn effect changes in the hologram of the body.
Similarly, controversial new healing techniques such as
visualization may work so well because in the holographic domain of thought
images are ultimately as real as "reality". Even visions and experiences
involving "non-ordinary" reality become explainable under the holographic
paradigm. In his book "Gifts of Unknown Things," biologist Lyall
Watson describes his encounter with an Indonesian shaman woman who, by
performing a ritual dance, was able to make an entire grove of trees instantly
vanish into thin air. Watson relates that as he and another astonished
onlooker continued to watch the woman, she caused the trees to reappear,
then "click" off again and on again several times in succession.
Although current scientific understanding is incapable
of explaining such events, experiences like this become more tenable if
"hard" reality is only a holographic projection. Perhaps we agree on what
is "there" or "not there" because what we call consensus reality is formulated
and ratified at the level of the human unconscious at which all minds are
infinitely interconnected. If this is true, it is the most profound implication
of the holographic paradigm of all, for it means that experiences such
as Watson's are not commonplace only because we have not programmed our
minds with the beliefs that would make them so. In a holographic universe
there are no limits
to the extent to which we can alter the fabric of reality.
What we perceive as reality is only a canvas waiting for
us to draw upon it any picture we want. Anything is possible, from bending
spoons with the power of the mind to the phantasmagoric events experienced
by Castaneda during his encounters with the Yaqui brujo don Juan,
for magic is our birthright, no more or less miraculous than our ability
to compute the reality we want when we are in our dreams. Indeed, even
our most fundamental notions about reality become suspect, for in a holographic
universe, as Pribram has pointed out, even random events would have to
be seen as based on holographic principles and therefore determined. Synchronicities
or meaningful coincidences suddenly makes sense, and everything in reality
would have to be seen as a metaphor, for even the most haphazard events
would express some underlying symetry.
Whether Böhm and Pribram's holographic paradigm becomes
accepted in science or dies an ignoble death remains to be seen, but it
is safe to say that it has already had an influence on the thinking of
many scientists. And even if it is found that the holographic model does
not provide the best explanation for the instantaneous communications that
seem to be passing back and forth between subatomic particles, at the very
least, as noted by Basil Hiley, a physicist at Birbeck College in London,
Aspect's findings "indicate that we must be prepared to consider radically
new views of reality".