Foggy fields of glory
In scientific research, there’s something called observer bias. The concept is simple: the one observing something makes the mistake of assuming that observation to be the only correct one, because how could it not be? Sounds pretty basic, right? Well, the concept is indeed basic — but the implications can be groundbreaking.
The best explanation of how observation bias works that I have ever come across is by Swedish theoretical physicist Max Tegmark, in his book Our Mathematical Universe. In this one section, he’s talking about parallel universes and the specific conditions that allow life to exist on our tiny speck of a planet. Humans, with our big heads, have always thought that the Earth must be in a very special place in our universe — and for good reason. From Copernicus to Hubble, we have observed more and more of the intricate workings of our universe, and discovered the delicate cosmic fine-tuning required to create life. Of course Earth must be special… or is it really?
Tegmark goes into way more big head-spinning detail, but the beautiful analogy he offers for our collective Earthling observer bias is nothing short of excellent. Tegmark writes:
“If you’re walking on a large field when fog has cut the visibility to 50 meters, you’ll feel like you’re at the center of a fog sphere beyond which you can’t see anything. But that doesn’t mean that you’re in any sort of special place, at the center of anything fundamental, because everyone else on that field will find themselves at the center of their own fog spheres.”
Isn’t that life in a nutshell? Never mind the cosmic conundrum — that is the human experience. As we grow up and struggle to understand others, try to express and appreciate empathy, we hope to arrive at a place where we can open up, to find love and meaning. Most of the time we are all just walking around in our fog spheres, caught up in our own stuff; thinking we’re special. Visibility is shit, and communication has to be done through shouting.
It’s only when we dare get close to someone else, and break through the fog, that we find real connections. After all, life is a mystery, and we’re all blind trying to navigate the foggy field. Sharing spheres can certainly make the crossing easier. Who cares if we’re not special.
