Laszlo and McTaggart – in the Light of this Thing called Physics

Chris Clarke and Mike King

Spring 2006

Introduction

We are two long-standing SMN members with a training in physics and a love of spirituality. At first glance then, we ought to be enthusiastic for the work of Ervin Laszlo and Lynne McTaggart where they deal with the philosophical and spiritual implications of the Zero Point Energy Field. It was however Laszlo’s own summary of his book Science and the Akashic Field (Network Review, Winter 2005) that alarmed us with some of his statements about physics. There is of course a wonderful optimism, both in Laszlo’s work, and in Lynne McTaggart’s The Field, but our question is: does the discipline of physics, in its current state of development, actually support their ideas? Or is their work more to do with creating a new metaphor by which to live? The creativity and optimism in their work is part of a broad and positive counter-culture, one that rejects narrow reductionism and materialism, but we are concerned that an unexamined counter-orthodoxy might have the potential to be as misleading as an unexamined orthodoxy. 

While the concepts put forward by Laszlo and McTaggart are wide-reaching, we will focus only on the potential support that physics might lend to them, rather than on science as a whole. In particular we look at their descriptions of the Zero Point Energy Field (ZPF). Laszlo introduces us to the ZPF by saying that there are ‘continuous fields and forces that carry information as well as energy … an information-imbued universe is a meaningful universe.’ McTaggart says ‘The subatomic waves of the Field are constantly imprinting a record of the shape of everything. As the harbinger and imprinter of all wavelengths and all frequencies, the ZPF is a kind of shadow of the universe for all time, a mirror image and record of everything that ever was.’  Neither writer is trained in physics, but both draw on it to support these claims. In this paper we attempt to describe for the non-physicist the nature of the discipline we call ‘physics’, and to show that in our view Laszlo’s and McTaggarts conclusions go well beyond the current state of physics. For us, physics is a beautiful and subtle discipline, but we are painfully aware that the long training and mathematical ability required to understand it largely shuts out the general public. Our challenge to ourselves is: how can we convey our unease at what the way physics is used by Laszlo and McTaggart, while keeping intact respect for their vision and inspiration?

Good science does not necessarily lead to good spirituality, but bad science certainly cannot, hence it is important to be able to distinguish the two. Also to distinguish what is plausible speculation in science from what has passed into science proper – or, to use that difficult word, what is a scientific fact. The third category, science fiction, is speculation often based on contradicting some known fact in science, and imagining a world based on that. This can be a fruitful exploration of the human condition, and can even be written by good scientists, but can be dangerous if dressed up as science!

How Does Physics Work?

Physics involves the disclosure of phenomena and the invention of theories. The phenomena may be either natural (such as the structure of the rainbow) or contrived in an experiment (such as Newton's experiments with a prism). The theory is developed so as to provide a precise and detailed explanation of the phenomena, and thereby give them context and meaning. Theory involves many layers: concepts, specialised language, mathematical formulation, calculational techniques, and a system for linking the theory with the phenomena. But the phenomena under consideration in physics are dramatically limited: the extraordinary success of physics lies in its extraordinarily restricted scope of enquiry. SMN member, quantum physicist and ordained minister John Polkinghorne has this to say:

Success has partly been purchased by the modesty of its ambitions. Only a limited range of questions are addressed, relying on a correspondingly limited technique of inquiry, dependent upon the possibility of the manipulation of impersonal reality and reliant on the marvellously powerful but specialised language of mathematics. 

This ‘modesty of ambition’ was set out initially by Galileo when he made the distinction between primary and secondary qualities: for example mass, length and shape are primary, but taste and colour are secondary, as they are subjective experiences in consciousness. Descartes made a similar distinction when he proposed that science was a matter of res extensans, or extended stuff. ‘Mind’ stuff, as non-extended, non-localised, was not the subject of scientific enquiry. However much we have moved on since Galileo and Descartes, physics sticks to the primary qualities of extended stuff, and its very success depends on that.

While theory provides a system of general metaphors, what gives it weight is the precision of its fit with the details of the phenomena. It is this that we mean when we talk of ‘good’ science: science that has been tested to destruction by comparison with an increasingly wide range of phenomena, and whose domain of applicability has thereby been determined. Most physics starts with metaphors that are often born of the emotional prejudices of the physicist. Physics, however, can only emerge through the most sensitive examination of the phenomena, with a view that remains unflinching even when, especially when, the phenomena go against expectations. Writers who offer wishful metaphors alone may make a contribution towards understanding, but they cannot claim the authority of the process of physics. Physics is a self-correcting discipline which eventually roots out all theories that contradict the evidence, and the human ambition of one scientist pitted against another ensures that nothing remains unchallenged. But above all, as John Polkinghorne says of the whole of science, it is an enquiry into what is. Physics is a very specific and subtle mode of enquiry, and its profound lesson is to take what you get, whether you like it or not.
 
What is this Thing Called Quantum Physics?

We would argue that, amongst the sciences, physics occupies both a special place, and has its own unique way of working. Even the closest ‘hard’ sciences – chemistry and biology – are radically different. And even within physics, the different branches work in different ways, and this is especially true of quantum physics.

Quantum physics is one area of the wave of new physics that developed through the 20th century, and it is usually contrasted with the ‘classical physics’ that preceded it. Classical and quantum physics have very different characters. The former has settled into a form that is almost universally accepted, with all the layers of theory well established. Quantum physics, on the other hand, has been in a state of constant flux as its practitioners have grappled with a spate of new phenomena. Thus quantum physics exhibits a plurality of many conceptual frameworks and many alternative methods of calculation. It remains, nonetheless, a single discipline because these many theoretical ingredients relate to overlapping parts of the same body of phenomena and, where they overlap, they agree in their numerical predictions. This plurality of theory within a fixed domain of phenomena will be crucial to understanding the origin of the notion of the Zero Point Field.

Unfortunately, plurality of theory makes it difficult to state just what quantum physics is. It will be sufficient, however, to distinguish quantum theory from classical theory very roughly as follows. In classical physics the theoretical constructs are usually visualisable in terms of the observable phenomena. A magnetic field, for example, is quite well represented by the pattern made when iron filings are sprinkled over a piece of paper covering a magnet. By contrast, in quantum theory the theoretical constructs have, metaphorically speaking, an extra ‘dimension’  that is not visualisable and is only indirectly and mathematically linked with the phenomena. We will use here the standard term for these constructs, namely ‘quantum observables’, despite the fact that, as explained, they are far less ‘observable’ than their classical relatives. The core of quantum physics is a body of procedures for finding theories that correspond to each branch of classical theory (such as electromagnetism, electrodynamics, gravity and so on). The aim is to ensure that the quantum version reproduces the classical phenomena, but in addition adds refinements that match phenomena exhibited at very small length scales, which the classical theory is unable to account for. A quantum theory will contain a quantum observable corresponding to each construct of the classical theory: a quantum analogue of energy, of momentum, of position ... and so on.

The fact that quantum theory is the physics of the very small is a vital point, and it is in this domain of the atomic and sub-atomic that results have emerged which are at odds with our human-scale experience. In particular we can cite the uncertainty principle, which put an end to the Laplacian view of a deterministic universe, and issues of entanglement which put an end to the idea of completely isolatable systems. A vast body of thought has gathered around the metaphysical implications of quantum theory, including the works of Laszlo and McTaggart. But as physicists we are wary of the entire edifice, or to put it another way, of the dazzling new counter-orthodoxy. The Nobel physicist Murray Gell-Mann, responsible for the discovery and naming of the quark, cautions us against what he calls ‘flap-doodle’ in respect of quantum mechanics. While Gell-Mann may have no sympathy for the esoteric, metaphysical and mystical, we should respect his knowledge of the physics. Even more sobering is the view put forward by Ken Wilber in his 1985 book Quantum Questions that even the great quantum scientists who were inclined to the mystical drew no support for it from the facts of physics.

Physics, Philosophy and Emotion

Before we look at the details of the physics it is worth looking at the cultural reception of it since the 17th century. From the start of the discipline proper with Galileo and Newton, it had two characteristics: it appeared phenomenonally successful, and at the same time incomprehensible to the layman. Even as gifted an intellectual as John Locke could not understand Newton’s Principia, and had to ask another scientist, Huygens, as to its value. But philosophers since that day have been both fascinated by it and repelled by it. Their emotional position is curious, perhaps aroused to antagonism by the fact that physics only took off as a discipline once the ideas of Aristotle were utterly discarded (this is partly why Galileo faced so much hostility). Popper’s classic work The Logic of Scientific Discovery is prefaced by the idea that the philosopher ‘does not find an organized structure [in science], but something resembling a heap of ruins …’ Otto Neurath, a leading member of the Vienna Circle, saw science as a boat ‘we are forced to rebuild plank by plank while staying afloat in it.’ The Linguistic Turn in philosophy, following Wittgenstein’s idea that science is just another language game, produced perhaps its ultimate dismissal in the hands of a philosopher: Richard Rorty’s famous characterisation of the ‘accurate representation’ that science provides as ‘an automatic and empty compliment which we pay to those beliefs which are successful in helping us do what we want to do.’ Most trained physicists do not bother to read the philosophy of science, because it sheds little light on the nature of physics, as these quotes readily suggest. At the very least, we suggest caution when the layperson attempts to understand the discipline of physics by reading the philosophers – they can be unreliable guides with a vested interest to reframe physics according to their own feelings.

Yet physicists are human too, and their emotional responses to the discoveries of physics are complex and often shape their life’s work, and its successes and failures. Stephen Hawking nicely brings this out in his book A Brief History of Time, showing how Kepler, Newton, and the Russian Marxist scientists all resisted scientific discoveries where they did not fit their personal or cultural ideologies. The best-known example is Einstein’s response to quantum theory: he famously said of it ‘God does not play dice.’ He fiercely resisted what was in part originated by himself; to be precise he never accepted Heisenberg’s indeterminacy principle. Why? Because, we suggest, it was emotionally unpalatable to him. So, of course was the heliocentric theory to the Aristotelians and Catholics of Galileo’s time – we could say that the history of physics was the history of unpalatable ideas. And of course the converse holds true: bad science is not just the product of resisting unpalatable ideas, but also of too quickly adopting the opposite – ideas that we would dearly, dearly love to be true. 

Quantum theory has also shown that physics is an incomplete and open discipline. One of the signs of this is that quantum mechanics is at present not reconcilable with relativity. Rather, the one is a highly successful account of the very small, and the other a highly successful account of the very large, but they don’t agree. Hawking believes that the goal of physics is to find a single unified theory – but that is only his opinion. There cannot be an overall goal that contradicts the fundamental enquiry into what is. If our enquiry leads us to an uncomfortable plurality of theories, then, yes, it spurs us to delve deeper. But for now, this thing called physics reveals a universe that is profound, subtle, mysterious, and only partially willing to reveal its workings to the human mind. The contradictions remain. As physicists we find this beautiful, and can only feel sorrow when a philosopher like Popper calls it a ‘ruins’.

With these points in mind we now attempt to give a physicist’s account of Zero Point Energy.

The Zero Point Energy Field

The Zero Point Energy Field (ZPF) emerged in recent years out of the much older concept of Zero Point Energy (ZPE), so it is crucial first to examine the status of this earlier idea. It arose in the early days of quantum physics when theorists looked for the quantum equivalent of an oscillator - such as a weight bouncing up and down on a spring. In classical physics the electromagnetic field was described as being made up of superimposed magnetic and electric fields which also ‘oscillated’ in the sense of regularly increasing and decreasing, and quantum theory started historically with the attempt to find a theoretical account for the phenomenena associated with the electromagnetic field. 

The first quantum theory of an oscillator when applied to the electromagnetic field successfully described the phenomena, but had an additional peculiarity: the lowest energy that an oscillator could have was not zero, but a small positive quantity - the ‘zero point energy’. The fact that the smallest energy of the oscillator was not zero was quite unremarkable, since  all that is observable is changes in energy, and these were correctly described. The zero point energy remains something of an embarrassment, however. In particular, when one considers all the contributions to it from all possible frequencies of oscillation of the electromagnetic field, the infinite spectrum of such frequencies and the zero point energies of all these frequencies produce an infinite total energy, which from a mathematical point of view is meaningless. (Properly speaking we should say that the calculated energy ‘diverges to infinity’ so that no meaningful value is produced. We refer to the outcome of such calculations as ‘formally infinite’.) Several different responses to this problem emerged, illustrating the plurality of theory so characteristic of quantum physics to which we earlier referred. We can list the main strands - of which the last is the one that leads to the idea of the zero point field.

1. 	It was argued that, in calculating the total zero point energy, one should not include arbitrarily high frequencies of oscillation, because at a certain point these frequencies would cause the spontaneous creation of particles, and at even higher frequencies would cause the breakdown of space-time itself. The effect of this would be to introduce a ‘cut-off’ in the allowed frequencies, resulting in a large but finite zero point energy.
   
2. 	In 1950 G C Wick noted that there were different possible choices for the quantum observable corresponding to energy, which meant that there were different possible values for the zero point energy. One choice regarded by many as the most natural gave rise to a zero point energy of zero, thus entirely removing the problem. These choices were equivalent as far as experimental phenomena were concerned. 

3. 	When the quantum theory of electromagnetism was extended by adding an interaction with charged particles, several other quantities in addition to the zero point energy became formally infinite. This produced a crisis in the theory, since it was impossible to produce meaningful values for observable quantities such as how much electromagnetic radiation of a given frequency was scattered by an electron. The solution to this crisis was the procedure called renormalisation (for which Sinitiro Tomonaga, Julian Schwinger and Richard Feynman won a joint Nobel prize in 1965), which showed that the presence of electromagnetic interactions resulted in an observed energy which was quite different from the quantum energy on which the theory was based. Elementary calculations of the zero point energy were thereby rendered untrustworthy.

4. 	An alternative possibility to 2 and 3 was to take the original version of the zero point energy, with the cut-off given by 1, at face value and use it for calculational purposes. This proved very successful in some areas, and provides the basis for zero point field ideas. This approach was first tried before the advent of renormalisation theory (3 above), which, it could be argued, vitiates this procedure. It is this approach, however, which forms the basis of zero point field ideas. 

As physicists we are faced here with explaining to the lay person why there should be a multiplicity of theories, and why in particular renormalisation – appearing to be just a mathematical trick – should have been the most common approach adopted for the last forty years. There is no easy route to understanding this, apart perhaps from pointing out that the inconceivably small world of quantum phenomena is approached by experimental methods that are very remote compared to those used in investigating human-scale objects and behaviour. There is a long chain of hypothesis and inference from the observed data, through multiple possible mathematical routes, to the concepts that we try and understand them by. SMN member Alan Wallace most usefully discusses the question of renormalisation in his book on quantum physics and Buddhism (Choosing Reality: A Buddhist View of Physics and Mind), placing due emphasis on the fact that what little laboratory evidence we have for zero point energy can lead to the conclusion that it is either zero or infinite. 

The key evidence cited by all the writers on this subject is the Casimir Effect.

The Casimir Effect  

Given the plurality of theoretical approaches to electromagnetism, many of which do not require the idea of zero point energy, the reality of this energy might well be called into doubt, were it not for a particular phenomenon, the Casimir effect, that has repeatedly been cited, often by eminent physicists, as providing direct evidence for zero point energy. The effect itself is conceptually simple: if two conducting metal plates are placed close to each other they experience a tiny but measurable force of attraction towards each other. This can be attributed to a lowering of the zero point energy between the plates and hence can be seen as evidence for the reality of this energy. To assess this effect we need to retrace its historical origins. Casimir was investigating quantum corrections to familiar forces between molecules called van der Waals forces. In general terms these can be understood classically, as a result of the redistribution of the electron clouds in molecules when they come close together, resulting in electrostatic forces between them.

Casimir was investigating more complex versions of this, involving dynamically oscillating charge distributions and quantum corrections, and had started with the simpler case of a single molecule adjacent to a conducting plate. For such problems, it is easy to show that the size of the force can be derived from the energy in the electromagnetic field. When Casimir discussed with Bohr the idea of using this field energy for the even simpler case of two parallel conducting plates, Bohr pointed out that in the quantum case the relevant energy needed in order to arrive at the force on the plates was the difference between the energy of the vacuum state of the electromagnetic field between the two plates and the energy of the vacuum state of this region in free space. Casimir performed this calculation using the formally infinite expression which was accepted at the time. The idea of the ZPF rests on this result.

The following lessons can be drawn from this history:

1. 	The Casimir effect does not involve a new ‘vacuum field’ but is a consequence of the electromagnetic field treated quantum mechanically.
2. 	The effect does not derive from the total energy of the field, but from a difference in energy between two fields (confirming that it is only differences in energy that are measurable, as noted above). In fact the same result is obtained for the alternative version of quantum theory that uses a finite (indeed zero) total energy for the vacuum field.
3. 	The Casimir force, like all van der Waals forces, is an electrodynamic effect, involving interactions between the electrons in the conductor, and is not an effect purely of the vacuum itself. This is indicated by the dependence of the force, in its exact version, on the charge and mass of the electron; indeed, the quantum mechanical force can be derived purely by considering the interaction of charges without any reference to the ZPE.

While some physicists may prefer to tackle certain types of problems using the ZPF as a conceptual tool, others, such as R. L. Jaffe at the Centre for Theoretical Physics at MIT, have taken the trouble to show in great detail how the Casimir effect can be accounted for without any reference to the ZPF. Alan Wallace also takes pains to point this out: ‘the experimental confirmation of the Casimir effect has been presented as evidence for two mutually incompatible conclusions: an energy of the vacuum that is said to be both infinite and zero.’ However Wallace goes on to generalise that multiple theories in physics exist for all physical data, which is for practical purposes only true for quantum mechanics. He uses this generalisation to argue for a middle ground between two philosophical positions on physics, between the ‘realist’ and ‘instrumentalist’ views. Our purpose here is not to digress into such a philosophical discussion, fascinating as it is, but to give a sober account of the evidence from physics for and against the ZPF. What Wallace’s treatment demonstrates is the importance of putting forward the genuine contradictions that lie within physics, and not choosing one or the other option based on an emotional preference. We can give an example with light: in the 18th century Newton chose a corpuscular explanation, while his contemporary Huygens chose a wave explanation. Physics in its steady development has firmly come down in favour of … both. To study physics is to live with paradox.

The ZPE treated classically

Though the Casimir effect was discovered as a quantum effect, it later emerged that it could be imitated by a randomly fluctuating classical electromagnetic field. A small number of physicists have adopted this approach, of including Bernard Haisch and Hal Putoff, whose work influenced McTaggart. This classical simulation of a quantum electromagnetic effect can account for quite a wide range of effects related to the interaction of radiation and particles, but it is necessarily limited in scope. In particular it is limited by conventional cause and effect and so cannot explain the non-local aspects of quantum electromagnetism, in which photons separated at large distances respond to simultaneous measurements as if they were a single system. Ironically, it is this phenomenon, not allowed in Haisch’s approach, that provides the greatest support for an interconnected view of the universe. The vastly greater complexity of this approach, compared to that of quantum theory, together with its limitations in accounting for all quantum phenomena, has restricted it to a small minority of practitioners. As we have pointed out, the majority have preferred to use renormalisation theory over the last forty years.

From ZPE to ZPF

A field means something that is distributed in space but has a connectivity and a unity that allows it to transmit influences to any point of space. In physics there are two sorts of field: classical fields (such as the electromagnetic or gravitational field) which are thought of as having some sort of actual existence, and quantum fields, which are quantum observables embodying all possibilities for field-like effects. The closest thing to a classical field in quantum physics is the wave-function for a quantum state, though in quantum field theory this is not distributed over ordinary space. The fluctuating electromagnetic field of Haisch’s version of electrodynamics is a classical field, but it is the worst possible candidate for transmitting and storing information because it is entirely random. The more usual ZPE is associated with a particular state (the vacuum) of the quantum electromagnetic field.

We have seen that Zero Point Energy is a contested term in physics, because it may refer to a quantity that is infinite or zero, depending on what mathematical approach is taken. To extend speculation from this uncertain energy to a Zero Point Energy Field is a strategy that can solve some limited problems in physics, but it creates far more problems than it solves. In particular it creates the illusion that there is a new field with exciting new properties, or even worse, that infinite free energy can be extracted from it. This is a useful moment to pin down what ‘energy’ means in physics. It is defined simply as the capacity to do work, and to put it the other way round, work is done when energy changes form in a system. A hydroelectric power station produced electrical energy, the capacity to do work in our various gadgets such as washing machines and vacuum cleaners, through the change of gravitational potential energy in the dammed up water. The oceans, chock full of tantalisingly large amounts of water, are no use for hydroelectric schemes, because there is no lower place for the water to flow to – it is already at sea level. Zero point energy – if it really exists – is like water at its resting place: there can be no further change in that energy which might do useful work for human beings. The Casimir plates are attracted to each other, like water is to the Earth, but the energy that could be extracted (a) comes from the electromagnetic field, and (b) the plates would have to be pulled apart again to continue the process. It would be like pumping water up the mountain again in order to create hydroelectric energy: overall there would be a net loss of useful work. As we pointed out earlier, running towards palatable ideas in haste can lead to as much bad science as running away from unpalatable ideas. And nothing is more palatable to us than the idea of powering our washing machines and vacuum cleaners from a source of free, unpolluting energy.

Laszlo and McTaggart

We can now turn to the key ideas promoted by Laszlo and McTaggart in connection with the ZPF. McTaggart calls the ZPF simply the ‘Field’, while Laszlo has gone a step further in effectively renaming it the Akashic Field or A-Field, because of its potential to record information. He wants to introduce it as a new field: ‘The A-Field takes its place along the fundamental fields of the universe, joining science’s G-field (the gravitational field), the EM-field (the electromagnetic field) and the various nuclear and quantum fields.’ As a statement in physics, this does not add up, because, as we have seen, phenomena that could be explained by a Zero Point Field can be as easily explained by the electromagnetic field. So why introduce a new field when physics doesn’t need it? Is there really good evidence in physics for the A-Field?

We should consider then Laszlo’s general approach to science. He starts his book with the valid point that there are many ways of comprehending the world, saying: ‘Of the many ways available to us, there is one that is particularly deserving of attention, for it is based on repeatable experience, follows a rigorous method, and is subject to ongoing criticism and assessment. It is the way of science.’ This looks promising but  his autobiographical appendix contains an intriguing honest admission: ‘I was interested neither in the technical details that take up the lion’s share of the training of science professionals – techniques of research, observation, and experimentation – nor in controversies about methodological or historical fine points.’ For us, this is the very stuff of physics. Perhaps Lazlo’s admission could explain the couple of statements in his own review of his book, published in the Network Review, that had originally caught our attention. The first was that ‘electrons orbiting the nucleus continually radiate energy’. The whole of quantum mechanics grew in fact out of the observation that Maxwell’s electromagnetic theory would indeed predict such a result, but that electrons in an unexcited atom do not radiate energy. Physics is full of unexpected twists like this, where matter refuses to obey nice human-oriented predictions. Hence the fact that electrons don’t radiate energy in the atom, unless excited, is the stubborn reality that our investigation into what is has turned up. Effectively we cannot explain it, nor is there a practical need to, but we have, by accepting it, gone deeper into the structure of matter, and have a mathematical system that describes it to an astonishing accuracy. Laszlo’s second oddity was the assertion that ‘As our planet pursues its orbital path it loses momentum, and given a constant loss of momentum, the gravitational field of the Sun would overcome the centrifugal force that pushes Earth around its orbit: the Earth would spiral into the Sun.’ But objects moving in a circular or elliptical path don’t lose momentum or energy (where would the energy go?), rather there is only a change of the direction of the momentum, beautifully accounted for by the gravitational attraction between Earth and Sun. Laszlo believes in both cases that energy is lost in the orbital paths, which it isn’t, and that the ZPF makes up that loss. Puzzled by such statements, we tracked them down in his book, and also in McTaggart’s The Field. It turns out that both authors have loosely drawn these ideas from the unorthodox physicist Hal Puthoff. His work is highly speculative, and addresses very deep questions in physics, but remains unproven. He is motivated by the deep puzzles in physics, including Mach’s principle, which poses the profound question of what inertia is due to. His work may eventually bring about a breakthrough: the history of physics shows what extraordinary twists and turns are possible. But his speculations give us a clue as to the route that Laszlo and McTaggart are taking: they favour explanations which close down the open and paradoxical nature of physics.

As we suggest, to really understand this thing called physics is to live with an open-ended and contradictory discipline that is astonishingly accurate (pace Rorty) in its description and predictive power with regard to physical matter. It exacts a high price however for its success: it provides no basis for a single unified philosophical system.  But when we look further into Laszlo’ work we see a drive to do away with contradictions in physics, to explain current anomalies, and to alight on the idea of a record of all events kept in pristine accuracy. Tellingly referring to ZPF as a ‘new fable’ he says: “With the new fables, a far less weird view of the quantum world is beginning to take shape.’ Further on he adds: ‘Beyond the puzzle-filled world of the mainstream sciences, a new concept of the universe is emerging.’ McTaggart gives us another clue as to their common approach to physics when she says: ‘These were ideas that could empower us, with their implications of order and control. There was purpose and unity to our world and our place within it, and we had an important say in it. What we did and thought mattered.’ The common factor is a desire to see through physics a world that was less weird, paradoxical, and devoid of meaning. Other pieces now fall into place, such as Laszlo’s opinion that the ZPF would provide the elusive unified theory, and that the universe would not wind down into the heat death (thermodynamic death) currently predicted by physics. The tendency of Laszlo and McTaggart is to remove the unpalatable from physics, to shut down its weirdness and uncertainty, and to restore a human-centred vision of physical matter and its future evolution. As fellow-humans we can understand and even applaud their efforts, but as physicists we have to say that the physics itself does not support their views. Great physicists such as Einstein and David Bohm have made similar attempts, but physics as a self-correcting discipline is indifferent to reputation and effort.

The Akashic Record: Science and Spirituality

But our real interest, as is Laszlo’s and McTaggart’s, is in the resonance of physics with mysticism. It was the very weirdness of quantum mechanics that put to rest the deterministic universe of Laplace, and opened the doors to physics-supports-mysticism speculations of pioneers like Capra and Zukav. So we, as physicists may well regret that we can’t find support in physics for the ZPF as Laszlo represents it. Particularly enticing is his idea of the A-Field as a permanent record of all events in the universe, and its possible basis in physics for the Akashic Record of esoteric tradition. But the physics is stacked up against it. Even if there were a new field we could name as the ZPF, could it store information, in perpetuity? 

The point here is that all fields are inherently fluid. Any disturbance to the field spreads out in accordance with the equations governing the field in question, and mingles with disturbances coming from other places. The information contained becomes progressively degraded as the disturbance interacts with matter en route, until it becomes lost among the general noise. We can see this with the electromagnetic field, manifested as light and radio waves (recalling that the ZPE is just a particular quantum state of the electromagnetic field). We can extract information from this either by using the direction in which waves are propagating (vision) or by using the special contrivance of broadcasting on specific frequencies; but in all cases the quality and precision of the information degrades steadily with distance. Laszlo states that the A-field is a ‘scalar’ field, meaning that it is specified at each point by a single number, as compared to the three numbers required to specify the free electromagnetic field, so it has even less scope for holding information. Storing information in a field is like making patterns by dribbling cream into a cup of coffee while stirring it: we are faced with the job of unstirring it in order to get the information out again.

One underlying metaphor for modern versions of the Akashic field is that of the hologram which stores information about the whole in every part. But a hologram can only be made on the solid structure of the photographic plate (or credit card) which holds the image stable, particularly at very small length scales – the opposite of the fluidity of a field. Writers such as Lazlo may postulate a sort of ether that acts as a universal photographic plate for a hologram, but there is no good scientific evidence for such an idea. 

Laszlo suggests that the ZPF is like a superconductor, in which current can flow without dissipation. But this does not get round the objection raised above, that the information cannot be read out without interaction with matter in which the pattern is disturbed. Laszlo’s proposal poses so many fundamental questions in physics that it moves more into the domain of science fiction than physics.

But there is another issue here: the misleading notion that the Akashic Record is a venerable Indian idea with its source in the Vedas. As far as we can tell it is only the much more recent invention of Western esotericists like the Theosophists, Rudolf Steiner and Edgar Cayce. ‘Akasha’ in the Indian system means space or void, and is equivalent perhaps to the Western notion of the fifth element, the quintessence, that in which all things rest. But the Indian mind was never interested in factual records of events, and would find the A-Field a quite foreign Western idea. Indeed the Buddha’s core preoccupation was that suffering came from clinging to what was impermanent, and all of human experience as impermanent. It is true that he could recall past life details for himself and others, and we can say that this was a consulting of the Akashic Record; why not? But his core message was to let go of the past, not to attempt to hold onto it for perpetuity.

We can conclude by saying that it is natural for people to look into the rich and complex discipline of physics, and be tempted to pick out just the bits that fit their concepts. Perhaps the lesson of what we have presented is that one should not jump hastily to appealing conclusions, but rather allow the enquiries of physics and spirituality to remain open, and live with contradictions. Maslow thought that this ability to live with contradiction a mark of the self-actualiser; the Buddha too called his monks ‘enquirers’ and called on them not to cling to fixed ideas or the past. We suggest that a balanced view of both physics and spirituality must take into account their open and paradoxical nature. Where quantum mechanics is concerned one needs to acknowledge the multiplicity of theory for the known data, while in the case of spirituality there is a multiplicity of phenomena (which, according to the work of Jorge Ferrer, is irreducible). 

Perhaps the most telling remark, this time by McTaggart on one of her conference flyers, is that the ZPF ‘has given thousands of people “permission” to hold spiritual beliefs.’  It is indeed probably the case that many people have been deterred from pursuing the spirituality that is right for them (which today is increasingly a holistic spirituality) by the influence of a prevailing world-view that is still influenced by Newtonian physics. Ironically, there are many areas of physics – notably those concerned with non-locality – that lend support to a world view that is much more harmonious with holistic spirituality, which could in turn foster a more humane society. But we don’t believe that spiritual beliefs should be founded on a casual, selective reading of the physics. Its real, hard lesson, as in the spiritual life, is to take what you get from an honest open enquiry, rather than what you would like. 

References