Prologue

For Skeptics

Before presenting this book to you, Dear Reader, I asked myself what the reaction would be to the basic idea of this book from three types of die-hard skeptics: the materialist scientist, the Western philosopher, and last but not least, the Christian theologian? So I decided to do an exercise employing active imagination to address the skepticism of these three groups head-on.

In my imagination, I create my straw scientist. He is a white American male, complete with coat and tie loosened at the neck (to signify openness, a touch of the eminent American physicist Richard Feynman). He has an air of all-knowing nonchalance and a lighted cigar in hand, emulating the celebrated Danish physicist Niels Bohr. And of course, he has the impatient arrogant smile of the American biologist James Watson, intended to hide his forever-present insecurity. I then ask my scientist, “I am planning to present a book about the scientific evidence for God. What do you think of the idea?”

“Not much,” he says, not too surprisingly. He elaborates. “Look, we've heard such claims of scientific evidence before. Take the creationists, for example. For all the noise they make, when you look closely, all their evidence is based on the negatives of our argument. T hey are clever, I admit. They do make many interesting points about the holes in the Darwinian evolution theory, our antidote to their so-called creation science. But we've countered by pointing out that their ideas don't constitute science because they're not verifiable.” He gives me a challenging look and continues, “Look, I know you want to make a case for God by highlighting all the shortcomings of materialist science in explaining things. But that will never work.”

This is not an important part of my approach. But I am curious. “But why?”

“Why?” His smile now becomes condescending. “Because, my idealistic friend, we can always address our negatives by the promise of future scientific discoveries. The answers are blowing in the wind of future science.”

“I know, I know.” I too can be condescending. “Didn't Karl Popper denigrate that, calling it promissory materialism?”

His cigar has gone out and he becomes busy relighting it. He takes a long puff and spews out a cloud of smoke. Now he gives me a penetrating look, like he's ready to level me with his reply. “What is God?” he asks presently.

But I am ready for him. I say with quiet confidence, “God is the agent of downward causation.”

“Oh, that hackneyed answer,” he pooh-poohs. “I thought you'd have something better. We eliminated that God long ago, because it's dualism. How does a nonmaterial God dish out downward causation that affects material objects? Any interaction with the material world takes an exchange of energy. But the energy of the material world alone is always conserved. No energy ever flows out to God or comes in from God. How is that possible if God is always interacting with the world?”

“You didn't let me finish….”

“And you didn't let me finish,” he continues. “Look here. We don't deny that you feel the presence of an almighty God in your religious rituals. But we have an explanation: God is a brain phenomenon. When you tickle certain centers of the mid-brain with your rituals, you elicit experiences of a powerful force. Downward causation makes sense to you then. OK?”

“Not OK.” I can also be firm. “God is the agent of downward causation, but it doesn't have to be the dualistic God of old. Your problem is that since Galileo you've been fighting the straw God of popular Christianity, which isn't the real issue at all. The real issue is: Can your model of reality, with one material level of existence and upward causation from the base level of matter (figure 1-1, page 17), account for everything? And it can't. You have to face up to that.

“Christians of the old traditions tried to explain everything they could not understand with the general principle: God and His downward causation. It's a very limited idea. Science was developed to fight that idea and to discover better ways for understanding the data. Today, you materialist scientists are doing the same thing. With any unexplainable phenomenon, you either deny it or try to explain it away with worn-out concepts like ‘God is an emergent epiphenomenon of the brain’ or ‘God is a useful adaptation under the Darwinian struggle for survival.’ We can never verify such ideas.”

“You are lecturing me,” he grumbles gruffly.

“So? You lectured me.” I am stern. “The God I'm talking about is quantum consciousness. As you know very well, in quantum physics objects aren't determined things; instead they are possibilities for God—quantum consciousness—to choose from. God's choosing transforms the quantum possibilities into actual events experienced by an observer. Surely you accept the idea that quantum consciousness is scientific.”

“Yes, of course. The observer effect: quantum objects are seemingly affected by conscious observers or by consciousness.” Then he smiles slyly. “New wine in an old bottle, eh? Trying to make the idea of quantum consciousness provocative by renaming it as God?”

He is not getting the point. “Look, I am quite serious. Quantum consciousness is really what our savants, the mystics, have meant by the word ‘God.’ I begin my exposition p roving that and also pointing out that it's an experimentally verifiable idea.”

He interrupts me. “Really? Look, the observership is just an appearance, and there must be a material explanation for this appearance. It's too hasty to postulate real consciousness.” He sounds a little exasperated.

“But it's logically consistent to assume so. To do otherwise gives you a paradox.”

“Yes, but we can't let a few paradoxes get in the way of our philosophical convictions,” he says slyly.

He is not getting the point. “Look, I'm quite serious. I repeat that quantum consciousness is really what our mystics have meant by the word ‘God.’ Let me also repeat that it is an experimentally verifiable idea.”

He now hears me and his mouth falls open. “Really? How?”

“Look, ever since the physicist Pierre-Simon Laplace told Napoleon, ‘I don't need that [God] hypothesis [for my theories],’ you guys have been using that argument to disprove God.”

“And successfully, too,” my scientist interrupts.

“Yes, but now turnabout is fair play. I'll present theoretical paradoxes and experimental data to show that we do need the God hypothesis, and not only to remove logical paradoxes from our theories but also to explain much new data. Brace yourself.”

My scientist looks away. I know I've gotten to him. Scientists respect resolution of paradoxes and, most of all, experimental data.

But my scientist comes around and slyly says, “Surely you don't expect us to lay aside our convictions just because of a few paradoxes. As for new data, it's a bit speculative to say that quantum physics, designed for the micro world, also works for the macro or mundane world. This is what you're implying, isn't it? I suppose next you're going to tell me that this has already been verified by objective experiments in the macro world.”

I smile. “That's exactly what I'm telling you. As to the applicability of quantum physics to the macro world, surely you know about SQUID?”

My scientist grins. “Squid? My wife sometimes serves it for dinner. I can't say I like it very much.”

I shake my head. “You know that SQUID is the acronym for Superconducting Quantum Interference Devices. It's too technical to delve into it here, but those experiments showed long ago that quantum physics applies all the way to the macro world, as it should. Also, the God-verifying experiments I will discuss in this book are all macro-level experiments. Some of the new data has even been replicated.”

My scientist looks a little uncomfortable. “Look here. We are never going to accept what you're doing as science. You know why? Because science by definition looks for natural explanations. You are inviting something supernatural, God, into this hypothesis. It can never be science.” He sounds stubborn.

“If by ‘nature’ you mean the space-time-matter world, then your science cannot even accommodate quantum physics. Shame on you. The Aspect experiment—photons affecting one another without signals through space and time—settled that issue once and for all.”

My scientist again looks away. His cigar has very conveniently gone out again. I get up. I know I've gotten to him. Scientists respect objective experiments. One down, the materialist scientist; two to go.

In my imagination, I now create the skeptic philosopher: tall, white American male with a shaved head and looking a lot like Ken Wilber. I tell him about my book on the scientific evidence for the existence of God. I also tell him about my encounter with the skeptical scientist. He surprises me with his question. “What is science?”

I fumble with words a bit. “We have ideas about being, through our experience of the outer and the inner worlds and through our intuitions. Those constitute our philosophy of being that you philosophers call ontology or metaphysics. Next comes how we know ‘being,’ which you philosophers call epistemology, right? Scientists intuitively theorize about being, make deductions from various theoretical insights, and then subject the theories to experimental consensus verification. Science is an epistemology with two wings: theory and experiment.”

I look at him for approval. He says gruffly, “Fine, fine. But what you study and discover through this science is about manifest experience, ephemeral, wouldn't you say?”

He is right. I nod in agreement.

“Then tell me, how can you use this science of temporal phenomena, space-bound phenomena, to prove the existence of what is eternal, what is beyond all phenomena, what is transcendent? Your idea is worse than those fo the medieval Christians who tried to prove God's existence through reason, because of your scientific pretentiousness. You think people will accept your idea because you cloak it in science, don't you?”

This fellow is arrogant, also cynical. I try to respond, but he continues in a staccato voice. “I know of your kind of scientific proof of God. You manage to do it not only by redefining God, but by even redefining materialism. You're a holist, right?”

Actually, I am not a holist—not the usual kind who thinks that the whole is greater than its parts or that novel creations can emerge from simple components but cannot be reduced to them. But his question has perked my curiosity. “So what have you got against the holists?”

He looks at me scornfully. “Look, as even Descartes understood four hundred years ago, matter is fundamentally reductionistic: the microcosm makes up the macrocosm. To suggest that matter in bulk, because of complexity, can have novel emergent features is preposterous. You think God is an emergent interconnectedness of matter, and God's downward causation is an emergent causal principle of complex matter, but this kind of idea is easily refuted.” He pauses, looking at me for a reaction. I remain quiet. He continues.

“If the idea of emergent holism held water, it would show up whenever we make complex matter out of the simple. For example, when hydrogen and oxygen mingle together to make a water molecule, does any property emerge that cannot be predicted from the interaction of the constituents? No. And if you say that the wetness of water, which we can feel, is such an emergent property, I'll hit you. Our feeling of wetness of water comes from our interaction with the water molecule.”

I try to mollify him. “I'm not saying that anything new and holistic emerges when hydrogen and oxygen combine to make water. Actually, I agree with you. The holists walk on very thin ice.”

He does not seem to hear what I said and continues, “If God were only an emergent interconnectedness of matter, God would be time-bound and space-bound, limited. There would be no transcendence, no sudden enlightenment, and no spiritual transformation. You can call the holist view deep ecology, garb it with the fancy names that satisfy mediocre minds, but it does not satisfy the philosophically astute. It does not satisfy me.”

Again his arrogance is showing. And in this case, he is right, of course, on his basic point. I try to be patient and exclaim, “O great philosopher, you are right. Holism is a hopeless approach of the fence-straddling philosopher who values God but won't give up materialism entirely. And you are right that science can never find answers about the ultimate truth. Truth is.

“But behold, please. Materialists make the ontological assertion that matter is the reductionistic ground of all being: everything, even consciousness, can be reduced to material building blocks, the elementary particles and their interactions. They hold that consciousness is an epiphenomenon, a secondary phenomenon of matter that is the primary reality. What I demonstrate is the necessity of turning the materialist science upside down. Quantum physics demands that science be based on the primacy of consciousness. Consciousness is the ground of all being, a being that mystics call Godhead. Let materialists realize that it is matter that is the epiphenomenon, not consciousness.”

“I see.” My philosopher is unruffled. “That all sounds very noble. But now haven't you gone too far the other way? Can you call it science if you base it on the primacy of consciousness?

“The way I see it, scientists can look at the objective side of consciousness, the It and Its—the third-person aspect of consciousness, so to speak. The mystics, indeed all of us, personally look at the subjective side—the first-person experience. The philosopher can do even better by considering the intersubjective side—the second-person relationship aspect. This is what I call the 1-2-3, the first person, second person, and third person aspects of consciousness. If we extend consciousness study from the purely scientific objective to include the other aspects as well, we get a complete model, the four-quadrant model (figure 3-1, page 45). The problem of consciousness is solved. We don't need quantum physics and your new paradigm thinking about science.”

I am a little startled by his claims. This fellow is tough in his own way. Nevertheless, I manage to say, “That's real good. It describes the phenomenon as phenomenology; this is impeccable. But the model does not integrate the four quadrants.”

He smugly retorts, “That is precisely my point and that of the mystic. To integrate, you have to go beyond science, beyond reason, into higher states of consciousness.”

Now it is my turn to be tough. “This is an elitist position and you know it. Mystics have always said that in order to know reality it takes higher states of consciousness. And then they say to whoever listens, ‘Be good. Because I have experienced these higher states and I know what is good for you.’ But has this ploy ever worked?

“It works to some extent because being good is part of our nature; hence the appeal of religions. But base emotions are also part of our nature; hence materialism also appeals to us. And this mysticism-materialism debate goes on, in public and in private.”

“So what are you proposing?”

“Quantum physics enables us to develop a dynamic integration of spiritual metaphysics and the science of the material world. It retains the mystery of mysticism, of the ultimate reality. But it allows reason to penetrate deep enough to understand the integrity of your 1-2-3 of consciousness,” I say gravely.

The philosopher is now respectful. “How does that quantum redefinition of science help establish God so scientists and everyone else will accept the idea and try to be good?” he asks.

“Remember my dialogue with the scientist?” I can feel I have his full attention now. “God is quantum consciousness; this is a level below the absolute level of consciousness as the ground of all being. Scientific objectives and experimental tests can be engaged at this level—not to test God directly, but to test God's power of downward causation that manifests not only the material world but also the subtle levels. We are also finding solid objective data for the existence of the subtle. It is this objective experimental verification that will convince everyone and lead to a paradigm shift. Surely you agree?”

“All right, all right. It will certainly be interesting to read what you've got,” he says with an air of dismissal. He needs to have the last word. Recognizing his need, I take my leave.

Two down and one more to go: the Christian theologian. I try to create him carefully, proper garb and everything. To my surprise, this one ends up as a woman. The world is changing indeed; there is hope for God yet.

I greet my theologian. I tell her about the title of my book and also about my bouts with the skeptical scientist and the philosopher. She chuckles quite sympathetically. Then suddenly her smile disappears as she speaks in rapid staccato.

“You know I'm sympathetic to your cause, but my skepticism comes from our experience with the materialists. Don't underestimate them; they will eat you alive.”

“They sure ate you alive.” I can't resist the jibe. “But you know why, don't you? You don't take science seriously, materialist though it may be so far. It took the Pope four hundred years to acknowledge Galileo and a decade longer to acknowledge Darwin. And the fundamentalists of your flock still fight the idea of evolution tooth and nail. But we take materialists seriously and respectfully; we give them their due. The new science is inclusive of materialist science.”

“Fine, fine,” says my theologian. “But your inclusion oftheir science won't please them, you know. They want to be exclusive.

“So many times we've tried to corner them arguing about the gaps in their science, trying to prove the existence of God and downward causation in those gaps. But materialists have always been able to thwart our efforts and narrow the gaps.”

“We have deeper evidence than gap theology.”

She interrupts me in midsentence. “I know, I know. We have deeper evidence, too. Such beautiful evidence, such beautiful arguments starting from William Paley to the current intelligent design theorists. If purposiveness is not a signature of the divine, what is? If you see a beautiful watch in a forest, how can you not see purpose, how can you ignore the designer, the watchmaker? Likewise, how can you see the beautiful living creatures of nature and not wonder about God's purpose, about God, the designer Himself?

“But the philosopher Herbert Spencer and more recently the biologist Richard Dawkins turn the intelligent design arguments around! The purposiveness of the biological world is appearance, they say. Not a signature of teleology, but mere teleonomy, its purposefulness the result of Darwinian adaptation. Dawkins even wrote a book calling God The Blind Watchmaker. And another one called The God Delusion, as if calling God a delusion will make it so. And people buy into his ideas, too. Even judges.”

Actually, the last assertion is not quite true. Although a federal judge in 2006 ruled against the teaching of intelligent design in schools, that was because the case for intelligent design is somewhat weak as of yet. One of my aims for this book is to correct that.

The fact is, many scientists have seen the weakness of Dawkins' arguments through probability calculations that show the improbability of life originating from matter driven by blind chance and survival-necessity, as Dawkins pretends. But this discussion would take us sideways. I try to get back to the main point.

“Your main problem is that the picture of God you portray is so naïve that it's easy to pick apart, and Dawkins and other materialists have had a heyday doing so. They always use the God of popular Christianity as a straw God to make their point. Let them use the esoteric notions of God and see if they can disprove God using materialist arguments!

“But I am proposing more than that. Let's talk about signatures of the divine. You'll be happy to know we have a new foolproof track to finding these signatures.”

“How so?” I have managed to pierce through my theologian's cynicism. Now she is openly curious.

“You see, madam, you theologians see signatures of the divine in the gaps of scientific understanding. And it is not a bad idea, per se. I respect you for it. But you have failed to discriminate between gaps that are, at least in principle, possible to bridge via the materialist approach to science and those that are unbridgeable using this approach. You have been a little wishy-washy.”

“Maybe so. But what is your alternative?”

“We discriminate. We home in on those gaps that are impossible to bridge through a materialist approach. I call these the ‘impossible questions for materialism.’ And there is more.

“The application of quantum physics gives us another kind of signature of the divine: quantum consciousness. An example is the discontinuous insight of the creative experience, a discontinuity that today we identify as a quantum leap of thought. There are other signatures: nonlocal interconnectedness that operates without signals through space-time.

“These quantum signatures are made of indelible ink; they cannot be erased or rationalized away by any materialist hocus-pocus.”

“Really? That is incredibly hopeful. But I have to ask you, how does your new approach regard Jesus? Does it recognize the specialness of Jesus?”

“Of course. Jesus is very special. One of a very special category of people, the perfected beings.”

My theologian becomes thoughtful. “You don't subscribe to the idea that Jesus is the only begotten Son of God?”

“No. But I do the next best thing. I show that the category of people to which Jesus belonged all have regular access to a state of consciousness—call it the Holy Spirit—that is truly the only begotten Son of God.”

“This is interesting. Reminds me of some new-paradigm thinking within Christian theology itself.”

“That it does.”

Here is the book. It is about God—quantum consciousness—a new paradigm of science based on the primacy of consciousness, and about scientifically verifiable quantum signatures of the divine that cannot be rationalized away. It is about the meaning and purpose of our spiritual journeys, and the meaning and purpose of evolution.

For millennia, we humans have intuited God and have searched. What we have found has inspired us to be good, nonviolent, and loving. But we have mostly failed to live up to our intuitions of how to be good, how to love. In our frustration, we have become defensive; we have become believers of God who have to defend the idea of God as an excuse for the inability to live up to that idea. This has given us religious proselytizing, fundamentalism, even terrorism—all in the name of God.

Modern science grew out of the effort to free ourselves from the tyranny of religious terrorism. Truth, of course, is Truth, so it is inevitable that science now has rediscovered God. Unfortunately, I doubt if this alone will make the difficulties of living the ideals of God much easier.

So are we in danger once again of creating a dogma that we have to defend out of the guilt of not being able to live up to its demands? I hope not.

One advantage of Godless materialist science is that it is value-neutral to some extent, and nobody has to live up to any ideals. In fact, it encourages people to become cynical existentialists and indulge in consumerism, maybe downright hedonism. Of course, this also creates the vast wasteland of unfulfilled human potential that we see all around us today.

The new science within consciousness comes with more understanding of where past religions, the past upholders of the concept of God, have failed. The quantum signatures of the divine tell us quite unambiguously what we need to do to realize God in our lives, why we fail, and why we hide our failure and become fundamentalist activists. If you heed the quantum signatures of the divine, the importance of quantum leaps and nonlocal knowing, you have another choice. I call this choice quantum activism.

Ordinary activism is based on the idea of changing the world so that you don't have to change. By contrast, spiritual teachers tell us constantly that we should concentrate on our own transformation and leave the world alone. Quantum activism invites you to take a middle path. You acknowledge the importance of your own transformation, and you travel the transformational path earnestly, the difficulties of quantum leaping and nonlocal exploration notwithstanding; but you don't say that it is transformation or bust. You also pay attention to the holomovement of consciousness that is evolving in the world around you and help it along.

So finally, the book is also an introduction to quantum activism. Needless to mention, I am a quantum activist myself. So, dear reader, welcome to my world!