Why do we see something rather than nothing?

Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

“Why is there something rather than nothing?” The question, which Gottfried Leibnitz (1646-1716) asked in his The Principle of Nature and Grace, Based on Reason (1714), is so fundamental to philosophy that it is often called “The Question” and is regarded as “philosophy’s central, and most perplexing, question”, according to the Oxford philosopher Bede Rundle who adopted it as the title of his 2004 book.1 The question, as a matter of fact, has been science’s central, and most perplexing, question as well, for generations of scientists have sought to explain why we observe an abundance of matter—from elementary particles to stars and galaxies—in the universe. In the context of scientific endeavor, “The Question” should perhaps be rephrased as: “How is there something rather than nothing?” This is so because, as the American physicists Lawrence Krause points out in his 2012 book, A Universe from Nothing, scientists have to be cautious about “why” questions.2

As for the question of how there is something rather than nothing, we have witnessed a remarkable progress in particle physics in recent decades, culminating in the discovery of the mechanism by which elementary particles acquire their masses. We tend to consider scientists to be an unemotional and rational lot. That this is hardly the case was amply demonstrated on July 4, 2012, when the discovery of a particle related to the Higgs mechanism was announced at CERN in Switzerland. The occasion was greeted with such excitement and exuberance by the physics community that some of them likened the discovery to the appearance of the Messiah they had been waiting for, prompting the popular media to call it the discovery of God particle. In any event, the discovery was, according to the American physicist Brian Green, “the most important experimental achievement in the field of the last 50 years”3 With that discovery, scientists seem to have finally succeeded in explaining how something can come out of nothing, thus negating Lucretius’ claim that “nothing can come out of nothing”, the claim that has been embraced by generations of philosophers and scientists in the West.

The discovery of the Higgs boson confirms the favored theory in particle physics that the Higgs field pervades the vacuum and gives mass to elementary particles, the mechanism known as the Higgs mechanism. Although it is not composed of actual matter, the Higgs field carries a type of charge, which allows particles to acquire masses. The discovery of the Higgs boson, an actual particle with definite mass, was an experimental confirmation of the theory of the Higgs mechanism by which elementary particles acquire masses. Since the Higgs field is everywhere and spread throughout the universe, the universe itself—bosons, electrons, quarks, and other particles—can emerge from the quantum vacuum, lending support to the claim that matter in the universe can emerge from empty space, that something can come from nothing.

What is important to note is that when physicists talk about “nothing”, they are talking about “empty space”. What is also important to note is that what physicists call “empty space” is not quite empty. As Frank Close explains, “The basic idea is that there is a kind of tension existing in otherwise ‘empty’ space that manifests itself by producing forces on objects that happen to be in the vicinity.”4 The sphere of influence of this tension is what is called a field. Fields are ubiquitous in the universe from the electric field that fills the empty space within the atom to the gravitational field of the Sun that keeps the Earth in its orbit. Now we have the Higgs field that is everywhere and is spread throughout the universe.

That a field is filled with a kind of tension implies a mechanism, or an activity, which explains how something comes from nothing, how there is something rather than nothing. In the parlance of physics, that activity is energy that exists in empty space even in the absence of matter or radiation. As Laurence Krause explains, “the energy stored in empty space gets turned into an energy of real particles and radiation, creating effectively the traceable beginning of our present Big Bang expansion.”5 Another American physicist Lisa Randall explains it this way: “Essentially, when you jiggle the Higgs field—add a bit of energy—you can create an actual particle. A single field both permeates the vacuum—empty space—with a nonzero constant value everywhere, and is also responsible for particle creation.”6

Needless to say, Leibnitz could not have anticipated the discovery of the Higgs mechanism, for he wrote his The Principle of Nature and Grace three centuries ago. What is remarkable about Leibnitz is, however, that not only did he pose the fundamental question about why there is something rather than nothing but he also anticipated the presence of some mechanism by which something comes out of nothing. Having posed the question, Leibnitz went on to provide his own answer: “I reply first that all things are created ex nihilo, not from preexisting matter at any moment whatever, for even matter itself is created; and it is of no consequence that some other things might have existed already in the past, for in that case they would have been annihilated later.” But how does something appear from empty space, out of nothing? Here is Leibnitz’s answer: “I maintain also that substances, whether material or immaterial, cannot be conceived in their bare essence without any activity, activity being of the essence of substance in general.” Replace the word “activity” by the “Higgs mechanism”, we can see how insightful Leibnitz’s remarks were in explaining the appearance of matter in the universe.

The idea that something comes from nothing, while it may have been difficult for the people in the West to accept, has not been so for people in the East, to the extent that they have been familiar with the ideas expounded by such prominent thinkers as Lao Tzu and the Buddha. The idea that the universe is a field full of potentialities is well expressed by Lao Tzu: “The Tao is an empty vessel; it is used, but never filled. Oh, the unfathomable source of ten thousand things!”7 Those ten thousand things are, according to the Buddha, sankharas that we observe in the phenomenal world around us, including ourselves. But all these sankharas are intrinsically empty, as the Buddha explains in the following dialogue with Ananda: “In what way, venerable sir, is it said, ‘Empty is the world?’ It is, Ananda, because it is empty of self and what belongs to self that it is said, ‘Empty is the world’.”8 Indeed, “nothingness” can be said to be the ground state of the universe in the Buddha’s view: “By completely transcending the base of infinity of consciousness, aware that ‘there is nothing,’ a monk enters upon and dwells in the base of nothingness.”9 As for the mechanism by which something comes from the base of nothingness, it is the idea of paticca samuppada, or “dependent origination”. Since nothingness is the ground state in Buddhist thought, the fundamental question to be asked is not “why is there something rather than nothing?” but “why do we see something rather than nothing?”

  1. Rundle, Bede, Why There Is Something Rather Than Nothing, New York: Oxford University Press, 2004.
  2. Krause, Lawrence, A Universe from Nothing: Why There Is Something Rather than Nothing, New York: Free Press, 2012, Chapter 9.
  3. Greene, Brian, “Mind and Matter”, Smithsonian Magazine, August 2013.
  4. Close, Frank, Nothing: Avery Short Introduction, Oxford University Press, 2009.
  5. Krause, op. cit. Chapter 9.
  6. Randall, Lisa, Higgs Discovery: The Power of Empty Space, 2013.
  7. Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching, translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English, New York: Vintage Books, 1972.
  8. Bhikku Bodhi, In the Buddha’s Words: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon, Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2005, p. 347.
  9. Ibd., p. 398.

After all, Valentine’s Day is another day

Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

Valentine’s Day, while started out as a liturgical celebration for a Christian saint, has become a universal day of celebration of love in countries all over the world, Christian as well as non-Christian. In most countries, it is recognized as a special day for lovers as they express and confirm their love for each other by exchanging cards, flowers, or sweets. In Japan, however, which is a non-Christian country with the number of Christians comprising two percent of the population at the most, Valentine’s Day has become the day when females can openly express their love for their male friends without fear of inviting social criticism for being too aggressive in expressing their personal feelings. To make things equal between the sexes, the Japanese have invented White Day, which falls on March 14, as the day when males can openly express their love for their female friends by sending chocolates—preferably white chocolates—to them from whom they had received the gift of love a month earlier on February 14.

The issue of who invented the custom of White Day in Japan and for what reason is not firmly settled and still being debated. It would be nice if it had been invented expressly for males as their Valentine’s Day, for it would give an opportunity for them, especially for those who are naturally shy and timid, to openly declare their love to their female friends. Some cynics say, however, that the idea of White Day actually came from some enterprising merchants who wanted to increase their sales of chocolates and other sweet products. If that had been the case, White Day would carry less significance as another special day for lovers to express and confirm their love for each other. It would instead become a day to confirm love of money on the part of chocolate makers. Be that as it may, the custom of White Day, now widely observed in Japan, offers an interesting example of the way a certain custom developed in one culture goes through transformation as it is adopted and absorbed by another culture.

Love of money, or the profit motive, although widely embraced as the motive behind economic transactions all over the world in the age of global capitalism, does not mean that money is the only object of love. Indeed, there are all kinds of things that become objects of love, things which people become passionate about, such as beauty, country, food, liberty, music, reading, sports, wine, work, and so on. And, of course, there is love of knowledge, which drives philosophers and scientists to seek knowledge of the world around us. If objects of love are many, so are adjectives used to describe love: blind love, eternal love, secret love, sweet love, true love, unrequited love, and so on. And there is unconditional love, an adjective usually reserved as a special reference to Jesus’ love for mankind.

Indeed, Christianity is one religion that has elevated love as a supreme goal for its practitioners, as is typified by Jesus’ message: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44) Love Jesus is talking about here is not love in the usual sense of that word as affection or passion between two individuals. It is love of mankind, the kind of love that is extended to all human beings, which Plato and Greek philosophers called agape, or “universal love”, to distinguish it from eros, or “bodily love” and phila, or “brotherly love”.

Love is also important for Buddhist practitioners. In Buddhism, however, love of all human beings is not enough: Love must be extended to all living beings, to all things endowed with the Buddha-nature. Moreover, this love, or metta, which is usually translated as “loving-kindness”, is one form of practice, one of the four meditations called brahmavihara, the other three being: karuna, or “compassion”, mudita, or “altruistic joy”, and upekkha, or “equanimity”.

The word brahmavihara literally means “Brahma’s abode”, which is also translated as “divine abodes”. Brahma’s name is employed by the Buddha to characterize the four meditations because, as is recorded in Subha Sutta, he is responding to a question put to him by the Brahman student Subha. The Buddha recommends the four meditations to Subha if he is to find the path to the divine abodes to be in the company of Brahma: “What, student, is the path to the company of Brahma? Here a monk dwells pervading one quarter with a mind imbued with loving-kindness, … one quarter with a mind imbued with compassion, … one quarter with a mind imbued with altruistic joy, … one quarter with a mind imbued with equanimity, …” (Majjhima Nikaya 99)

Whether we are declaring our first love, or confirming our old love, on Valentine’s Day, we are expressing our attachment to someone special as the object of our love as passion by sending cards, flowers, or sweets. Let us remind ourselves, however, that there is no such thing as eternal love, for love, like everything else in the world around us, is impermanent and subject to suffering. As the Buddha reminds us in his first discourse he delivered in the Deer Park at Isipatana, “separation from what is pleasing is suffering”. (Samyutta Nikaya 56) What we need to remind ourselves as Buddhist practitioners on Valentine’s Day is not just love as passion but love as practice, namely, the need to constantly practice meditations to cultivate metta, karuna, mudita and upekkha so that we, too, can reach brahmavihara. After all—to paraphrase the memorable, closing words of Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind—Valentine’s Day is another day … for Buddhist practitioners.