A Question for Cosmologists

The following thoughts were prompted by trying to figure out what the question, “Is the Universe infinite?” is really asking. “How could it be?” I ask. If we know the age of the Universe is finite, and we know that the fastest anything with energy/information can travel is the speed of light, isn't the “size” of the Universe merely the age multiplied by the speed of light? But how is the Universe defined? Some say that space is infinite and that the matter is expanding into it. But, if my limited understanding serves me, wasn't there no space before the Big Bang and the existence of matter? Also, there has been much work done on particular periods of inflation. Is this not the Universe starting from a smaller size and getting larger? If so, at what point did the Universe go from being finite to infinite? Is the theory that precisely at the Big Bang, space was made infinite, and then inflation caused it to be more infinite? I'm not even sure the word “infinite” has much meaning in this case. If there is a boundary of any kind which cannot be exceeded, how can one call this infinite? Because it always has the possibility to keep expanding? Perhaps they are saying, “The Universe will be infinite in size after an infinite amount of time.” Well, so be it. This is more a statement of the future of the Universe than its current state; a statement that the Universe will forever expand.

Maybe I'm simplifying, but it seems to me that the entity which includes all the mass and energy created in the Big Bang should be called the Universe; and if current time and maximum speed are finite, so its size must also. What am I missing?

So what of this boundary that marks the edge of the Universe? If you've read about General Relativity at all, it's likely you've seen the expansion of the Universe analogized to the following. There is a balloon with an array of equally spaced dots drawn on its surface. Now, blow up the balloon further. If you look at any single dot, all of its neighboring dots are moving further away. If you do the same analysis to one of the aforementioned neighboring dots, all of its neighboring dots are also moving further away from it. It's a beautiful demonstration of how all things can be moving further apart from one another simultaneously.

But our space is in three dimensions, whereas the surface of the balloon is in two. Ask yourself: what is the “boundary” in the case of the balloon? Is it the surface of the balloon? In the analogy, if each dot symbolized something like a galaxy, then the entire surface of the balloon would be the whole universe. So is the question, “Is the Universe infinite?” actually asking how much the balloon can be blown up? Assuming a balloon that doesn't break, maybe the concept is that we are blowing up this balloon in our living room and once it gets big enough to hit the walls and ceiling, that's it: the Universe is finite. In that case, however, the “Universe” not only consists of the surface of the balloon (which represents all the galaxies and space), but also the room in which it's being blown up. This is a higher dimension than that which the surface of the balloon exists.

In the case of our 3-D space expansion, that would mean the “room” exists in four dimensions. When we ask if the Universe is infinite, are we really asking about the size of the room in four dimensions? If so, there's no wonder why I was confused!

I would venture to make an educated assumption that our fourth dimension in this case is time. Just as saying that the size of the room being infinite suggests the balloon can become infinite as well, is it not equivalent to say that the Universe being infinite is equivalent to time being infinite? Once again, this seems like a statement about the potential of the future, not about a current property of the Universe.

Just to confuse matters more, let's think about what it means to be on the surface of this 3-D balloon. Aside from small fluctuations, everything is moving further away from us. Check. It's common knowledge that as we look into space, we are in a very real sense looking back in time, due to the fact that it takes time for light to travel from the object to our eyes. So everywhere we look, it happened in the past. The location of the “present” is right here. But of course, “right here” is different depending on if it's you, me, or some being in a different galaxy. We're all simultaneously in the present and past, depending on who you ask. I guess it becomes a question of “whose present?” and “whose past”? I always imagined the edge of the Universe to be some source of light, hauling ass at 300 billion meters per second “outward”, as if I was in the middle of the balloon watching it's surface expand outward. But this is not accurate. It seems we are all simultaneously on the “edge” of the Universe, which is defined by the present time and we are being propelled “outward” into the future.

In sum, I still don't think I understand the question: “Is the Universe infinite?” It seems to me, with my limited knowledge and probably faulty logic, that it is equivalent to asking if time is infinite. But that seems to depend on the fate of the Universe and isn't a property of it in the same sense as “total energy” or “total mass”. Whether the Universe collapses into the “Big Crunch” or expands forever is an interesting question, but if that is what's meant by asking if the Universe is infinite or not, please clarify!

Furious China

Comments made by Dr. Phil Fraundorf are responsible for my thinking along these lines, but the point he made is a good one. Is it not ridiculous to have a news title of “China is furious over...”? What information does that convey? I suppose it lets us know that at least some one in China is upset. They certainly don't mean the entire country. The title reads as if the country of China, not the people within it, have the emotion of anger. It assigns an individual feeling to a land mass and government. It might help us identify with an emotion in a knee-jerk kind of way, but is this not misleading? By merely accepting the title, we've accepted a huge simplification. It seems to me that this is somewhat dangerous. It is not as simple as “do A and China is happy, do B and China is furious.”

What harm could come from such absurd, though commonly accepted statements? Perhaps most immediately, it might discourage the reader to ask certain questions. It seems to appeal to the emotions first without being processed by the brain. For instance, if there were a similar news title about Iran being furious, we might never consider what that actually means in terms of consequences if we don't know specifically who is furious. Is it crazy old Ahmadinejad, the Ayatollah, or some portion of the population? The difference would be rather significant!

By glossing over these details and wording a title in an absurd, but easy-to-sympathize-with way, it might actually be more harmful than helpful to the person's understanding. To accept the wording is to deny the complexity of the power structure and it's relevance to the situation. I'm not suggesting that the title should be so in-depth that it become the article, but something as minor, but significant as, “Some Chinese leaders are furious over...” adds only two words. The reader might immediately wonder who and why, which eliminates the simplification and also adds the question of “who?” to the reader's mind. Once that is answered perhaps, “And what might that mean for the rest of the world?” will come next. A subtle change in phrasing may have the power to encourage the audience to read the article from a vantage point that nurtures the complexity of the world instead of disregarding it. And in an era where information is disseminated at the speed of light through a huge network of inter-connected minds, nurturing complexity may be our only hope of satisfying the vast needs of the network's members.

Observations on Homes

Why are they the way they are? Economic reasons? Blind adherence to traditional ideas? A reflection of our values?

The rooms are isolated from one another and subdivide a bigger space. Walls give the illusion of privacy and trick us into believing we are alone. If we are in a room by ourselves, we are alone, but if we knock down the walls, then we are exposed and among company. People say they need "my space". A space to call their own. A space which when outsiders are inside, they realize their wishes are secondary. A house within a house.

The most well-off among us tend to have individual bedrooms for each inhabitant, except the male-female heads of household that bed together. Each child has a room and then a separate room for particular activities: an office for working; a dining room; a sun room; a laundry room. We arrange our rooms with regard to our priorities, conscious or not. Our living rooms are arranged around the TV, giving everyone as good a view as possible. The television is the glowing star of the room and we all give it our complete and undivided attention. This is no place for small talk, unless it's during commercials. Our dining rooms hold a big platform that presents us with our feast and we circle around like a pack of animals. A meal prepared with such care and made to look so appealing, it warrants a prayer in thanks. The office has a large desk with a computer atop. We surround ourselves with books, reminding us of the work we've done in the past and can do again. A desktop lamp is present in preparation of working until the wee hours of the evening. A paper shredder for our mistakes. The kitchen is large enough for two people to cook, but rarely used as such. There are pots and pans of every size. Only 4 people live in the house, but there's 15 plates each of 2 different sizes. 10 bowls. 25 forks, spoons, and intentionally dull knives. A block of steak knives that have a couple butcher knives, a pair of large scissors, and something I cannot identify. This is only half of the kitchenware since the good China isn't used. There's usually a basement that has a storage area. A place to put a bunch of stuff you'd rather not throw away but can't find a place for: trophies, photo albums, old clothes, outdated electronics. Proof you lived in an earlier time with something tangible to show for it. Then there's the stuff that you'd sell if you had the chance, but no body wants it. But it's worth something, you can't just toss it out.

Your old stuff cannot be among your new stuff, however. This would be cluttered and tacky. In order to not be obligated to apologize to guests before they enter, we must have vacuumed, dusted, wiped up, scrubbed down, washed, dried, polished, plunged, disinfected, and deodorized. Things must be put away. Trash goes in the trash can. Dirty clothes go into the dirty clothes hamper. Plates go into the plate cabinet and silver wear into the silver wear drawer. The magazines in the magazine rack and the coffee table book on the coffee table. Everything has its place and it's up to us to put it there. Complete control and knowledge of our surroundings. We are the Gods of our homes and impart our own divine plan of which only the inhabitants know the code. It is our decision where the forks belong. This is what makes it our home. It is our material possessions that hold proof that we were successful in our lives. These possessions are validation of our memories. They assure us that our interpretations of the past are correct, no matter how distorted they become. The memories that are attached to our belongings whither and decay with them, as do we. Inanimate objects are alive in this way; in their ability to die and lose all meaning and value. Therefore we cherish them and store them and build rooms for them and organize them. We define them and in turn they define us.

New Blog

I'd like this to be a space where I can highlight thoughts or articles that I find interesting as a catalyst to start a discussion. I would be more than happy to make any interested reader a contributor.