Month: December 2021

The Matrix Resurrections and A Key

crimson

A part of the issues I am facing with this latest film is trying to justify that I got something out of it that others seem not to. I claim the existence of hidden messages and hidden meanings; I claim this film is somehow “art.” But I haven’t provided satisfactory evidence to back up my claims. I resisted because I had hoped simply telling others that these messages existed would be enough to motivate people to discover them on their own. Unfortunately, I was wrong to think this.

And so, this will be me revealing a key to understanding The Matrix Resurrections. I say “a” key because I’m confident there are other keys out there. This is simply the one I found and used to decode the film with. Huge warning now, that the following includes a shit ton of spoilers!

I will lay out my key as three steps that need to be considered in order to understand the hidden messages. After revealing these keys, I will elaborate in detail.

Step 1: This film is not entertainment. This film serves itself.

Step 2: The dialog spoken by the characters does not originate with those characters. The words and ideas are actually the words and ideas of real people in our very real world.

Step 3: Once you have figured out who actually said what the characters have said, consider what was said in the context of the scene, in the context of the film in its entirety, in the context of the film industry, and in the context of the creators.

If you endure these steps, you will find a ton of messages and ideas that themselves raise their own questions regarding the film and its very existence. Now to elaborate.

In step 1, one needs to start by realizing this film is not for them. That is, many modern films are designed as consumer products. As products, their purpose is to entertain people and provide motivation for people to part with their money. The film industry is, first and foremost, a business. The Matrix Resurrections is challenging this very idea.

As such, in order to actually understand the film, one needs to abandon the idea that the film will entertain the audience. The film might appear to be for their consumption, but it really is not. The film serves its own interests, not the interests of the audience. In other words, do not expect the film to fulfill in the way other films might.

This also raises the next issue: passive versus active. Most modern films, designed for consumption, require very little from the audience (aside from opening their wallets). The audience can enjoy the films very passively. The audience does not need to put forth much effort. This film is not passive; this film is active. This film requires the audience to put in an effort. Any audience who expects the film to serve them will certainly be disappointed.

Properly prepared, we are now ready to enter step 2. In step 2, the audience has to do some work. People have already identified that the dialog issuing forth from the characters is often broken and jilted. There are breaks in continuity. This is because the dialog isn’t necessarily for the scene or the characters. Someone else said these things, or something very similar, outside the scope of the film. The trick is to figure out who said it, and why.

Much of the time, and especially when one is stuck, assume it was Lana herself saying the dialog. If that doesn’t work, try Lilly. Still not working, try others, including Warner Bros. executives, crazy film fanatics, and even film critics. Often, the clues as to whom should be considered are there in the scene itself.

This leads to step 3: analysis. Consider what was said, and by whom, in the context of the scene itself. What does it tell you about the scene? If there are deficiencies in the scene, perhaps this is why; perhaps it is intentional. If the scene doesn’t entirely make sense, this may reveal where the problem exists.

Next, consider what was said in the context of the film as a whole. Perhaps it is telling us why the film was even created in the first place. In the context of film industry, perhaps a commentary is being made regarding the state of affairs of films in general (see my step 1 above). And in the context of the creators, perhaps they are trying to tell us something. Do not assume immediately that it is sarcasm or malicious. Try to be charitable. Try to be empathetic.

At this point, these hidden messages should start to reveal themselves. These hidden messages will tell their own story, not necessarily the same story that appears to have been presented. For me, the story mostly begins by telling me that this is NOT a Matrix film at all.

Now for an example of what I am talking about. The beginning of the film starts very similarly to how the first film in the trilogy started, though with marked differences. As someone else pointed out, after the initial trace sequence, instead of a light being pointed directly at the audience, the light is seen reflected in a pool of water on the ground. This, by itself should alert the audience that this new film, though seeming very similar is being presented from a different perspective than the first.

Before the light, there is a brief conversation between two characters: Bugs and Seq. “Looks like old code,” says Seq. “It feels really familiar,” says Bugs. Already we are being alerted. Perhaps this is a conversation between a Warner Bros. executive and Lana, discussing a draft of the new upcoming film. “A quick peek can’t hurt.” “Bugs, this feels like a trap.” Could this be Lana expressing concern about the draft? Or perhaps even her being dragged into a project she never wanted to be a part of?

We watch the opening sequence unfold, and yet it pales as compared to the first film. The iconic floating kick is strangely absent this time and the choreography is somehow less impressive. Following the scene to its conclusion, we also notice that Trinity does not actually escape this time. Bugs and Seq are there with the audience, watching. “But something is happening here. Something important.” “We know this story. This is how it all began. This is where he began.” The character, Bugs, is talking about Neo. But if these were not Bugs’ words, then “he” would also not be who we think either. “So deja vu and yet it’s obviously all wrong.”

I believe these words are self-referential. Lana and/or Lilly talking about themselves from the beginning. From the time they first created the first film. Before they were “she,” they were “he.” The next line, “Why use old code to mirror something new?” pulls it all together. Perhaps not a complete answer, but the beginning of one. It sounds like someone at Warner Bros. sought out Lana and/or Lilly and presented them with their own take on the Matrix. A draft of a script perhaps. Upon reading it, it awoke something inside them. Reminiscing. Remembering. And then concern. Their story had already been told. It had been concluded, hadn’t it? And this story, the one remembered is somehow inferior to the original as well. Trinity was supposed to have escaped. Trinity was supposed to have got out.

“If that’s supposed to be Trinity, that’s not what happens.”

“Maybe this isn’t the story we think it is.”

“Bugs, you have to get out of here. It’s gotta be a trap.”

I think this opening could be talking about how the initial project that eventually became this film began. How Lana and Lilly were initially drawn back in, someone else wanting to renew the Matrix franchise and tell more story. More likely, in order to try to cash in. The recurring references to it being a “trap” suggest that perhaps whomever actually approached Lana and Lilly may themselves have been naive and didn’t realize what they were doing. Perhaps motivated by a “higher power” (say the Warner Bros. executive team).

But all this is only one possible interpretation as well. Another could be that Lana is talking directly to her audience instead. Perhaps she is telling that audience that the film itself is the trap, and the audience is about to be deceived. A warning perhaps.

The next line is, I believe, the first reference to something: “Shit”. This singular word is strewn throughout the entire film. I don’t think it is ironic. I don’t think it is an accident. I don’t think anyone is trying to be funny. I think “shit” has a very specific meaning in the context of this film. I think “shit” is a representation to the sorts of things that are expected, like in the phrase “the same old shit.” This likely includes such things as the iconic action sequences and “bullet time,” which of course are referenced later in the film.

I will stop here, as my intention is not to decode the entire film. Doing so does the film, the creators, and the audiences all a disservice. I honestly, think I’ve already said too much as it is. However, I cannot assume that most people will be able to see what I see. Some people may need some assistance in the decoding. It is my sincere hope that this little bit is enough to get people started. Perhaps this is enough to convince people to take the time to see what I think this film is all about.

The Matrix Resurrections and Futility

crimson

Out of breath, after screaming into the void for days. Why do I scream? Do I want to be heard? Perhaps not. I already know what they think, what they feel. They’ve made it abundantly clear; they are not like me, I am not like them. I am alien.

The film is instrumentally good. More than that. It is brilliant. Because it was able to invoke such passionate responses in everyone who watched it. Including me. I always felt I was immune, but clearly I am not.

I feel alone. I know there are others out there who saw what I saw. They too scream into the void, and I can hear them. But for some reason we cannot find each other. Perhaps they are just an echo.

Since I was very young, I felt I was different than everyone else. I thought about things no one else seemed to think about. I saw things others said were not there. My own father told me I was not different, and that everyone else thought as I did. I believed him, for a time. But it is difficult to reconcile when the behaviors and words of all these people are so vastly different. If they thought as I thought, and felt as I felt, would then not act as I act?

I suppose they might be. After all, I have remained hidden in the crowd for so long, I look just like everyone else. My mask is so perfect. What if theirs are just as perfect.

I don’t know what to think anymore. I haven’t for a while. This film simply brought it back to the surface. This film reminded me of the hopelessness I see. Perhaps I should not have watched Don’t Look Up right afterward. The futility of screaming.

The Matrix Resurrections and The Arrogant Eye

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There is something I need to say. I believe it is quite important. So important that merely understanding it changes a person. The problem I have is that my aptitude with communication is not as great as I would like it to be. Certainly not sufficient to appropriately convey this thing I need to say. Any attempts I make inevitably lead to misunderstanding and dismissal.

If I try my hardest, there are those who will hear, who will listen. However, those same people already know and understand what I’m trying to convey. In fact, many of those people understand it better than I do. It has been through those people that my own understanding has grown and flourished over the years. So telling them this thing is a bit redundant. Like shouting into a barrel.

Unfortunately, there are many more people who will not listen at all. They may not even be able to hear me, my voice is so small and quiet. But it is those people who need to listen more than anything. It is those people who need to understand the most. I just know that if they grasped this thing for even a moment, they would realize just how important it is.

So it seems my problem is trying to figure out how to make those people listen. Especially when I already understand that I cannot make anyone do anything they don’t already want to do. If they do not want to listen to me, then it will not matter what words I choose or how I try to say what I need to say. My message will fall upon deaf ears.

But it is really important that they know. Important that they understand. At least, that is what I believe. It is in part because I understand that I know it is so important. I truly believe that if they simply understood, they too would recognize its significance.

Perhaps I need to better understand those people. To understand what they do want to listen to. What they want to hear. Perhaps I might be able to speak to them in a way they understand and prefer. Perhaps then I could convey my message. Unfortunately, speaking in their language makes it incredibly difficult to convey this message of mine. Their language isn’t very efficient in expressing this idea. Their language is better suited to expressing different sorts of ideas.

I also have to be very careful when I speak to them. There are words I feel compelled to use that will immediately close them from me. Simple words with so much meaning, but at the same time words that they don’t want to hear. I cannot use those words.

A famous person wrote an amazing essay entitled “In and Out of Harm’s Way.” In this essay, the famous person discusses the idea of “The Arrogant Eye.” A person with this perspective sees the world as they want to see it. Their observations are tainted or coloured by their own desires and feelings. When they interact with the world, they end up trying to dominate that world. After all, the world is a reflection of their making; in some sense they own the world. The problem with this perspective is that it leaves very little room for others to exist in their world. Or, what inevitably must happen, others are subjugated and oppressed in order to make room.

The alternative perspective is referred to as “The Loving Eye.” A person with this perspective sees the world as it is, or perhaps more accurately, they try very hard to see the world as it is, trying very hard not to allow their own desires and feelings to overshadow the world. When they interact with the world, they often try to leave the world undisturbed. They want to allow the world to express itself, in some way. Others that may exist in the world are also encouraged to express themselves. The world is not intended to be a reflection of their making; it is not their world to possess.

These perspectives are not the thing I need to say. They are vehicles to help understand. With art, one can view it with an Arrogant Eye or with a Loving Eye. Inevitably, one will colour the art with their own experience, no matter how hard they try not to. But with the Loving Eye, the person really tries not to. With the Loving Eye, one tries to understand what the creator of the art intended, instead of assuming for themselves the meaning of the piece.

Art is art. And creators are creators. The second the art leaves the creator, it will have of life of its own. The good creators understand this. The good creators will do their best to separate themselves from their art once it has left the nest. But it can still hurt a great deal to watch your art be constantly misunderstood and misinterpreted. The worst, I think, is when your art is labeled as inferior or bad. How can art be bad? If art is an expression made by the creator, then it could only be bad if it was somehow not an expression of the creator.

Unfortunately, none of us can control others. We cannot make them listen. We cannot make them understand. We cannot tell them how to view a piece of art. And we certainly cannot tell them whether a particular piece is good, bad, or otherwise. Everyone will decide for themselves what they think about the piece of art. In fact, they will decide for themselves whether the piece is even art at all. This is yet another problem with language.

I was going to go through The Matrix Resurrections scene by scene and explain what I thought was going on. At this moment, I’ve changed my mind. I watched the film several times, trying to look with a Loving Eye. The things I saw both inspired me and disappointed me. I was inspired because the creator seems to have accomplished the very same thing that they did with the first film: The Matrix Resurrections is rich with symbolism, layers, and hidden messages that will keep people busy for a very long time. However, I was also disappointed because it seemed like many of those messages suggested that the film should not have been created in the first place.

I believe the creator was incredibly reluctant to create this film. When forced against their wishes, they decided to take the opportunity to say something they felt was important. Important to them. And really, I think that too is what is most important.

Imperfection in the Matrix

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I like the Matrix story. I have written many posts regarding aspects of the story that I think are quite well done and thought provoking. However, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge that there are also issues with the story. Some can be overlooked. Others are quite substantial.

To be clear, I still like the story. It is still one of my favorites. I consider the nature of the story to be such that one can overlook much and still gain from its viewing. A fundamental feature of the story is that it plays with the idea that we have a tendency to feel like something is amiss, almost all the time. In the case of the Matrix, this thing that is amiss is often the fact that the characters are trapped in a simulated world, unable to escape; unable to really detect on a conscious level that they are even trapped. This feeling drives many of the conversations and debates about aspects of the story. This is a good thing. The stories many imperfections can be overlooked as a result.

That said, there are some huge problems as well. In this post, I will raise two major problems with the story. One significant and straight forward problem relates to the scorched sky. The other, much more subtle problem, relates to the obviousness of the orchestrated “path of the one.” One of these problems, I believe, will be quite easy to see by most. The other may not.

At various points in the films and supplementary material, it is explained that the sky was scorched by the humans in an attempt to defeat the machines in a great war. The machines were, at the time, quite dependent on solar energy to sustain themselves. It was believed, by the humans, that blocking this source of energy would bring a quick end to the war. This assumption clearly failed, and the events that precipitated the creation of the Matrix simulation follow. The machines decided to use human beings as a source of energy to sustain themselves, considering this to be a viable alternative to the previously abundant solar energy.

Unfortunately, on this planet, there is no source of energy as abundant as solar energy. In fact, most other forms of energy we utilize are indirectly generated by solar energy. For example, the currents of winds in our atmosphere are, by and large, generated by the solar energy being absorbed by large land masses, which in turn heat up the atmosphere near the surface. The air rises, as a result of being heated, and this causes the air above to be pushed around. This isn’t the only manner in which the atmosphere moves, but it is probably the most significant. This is also why the melting of the polar ice caps is such a big deal related to climate change. The ice caps, by and large, reflect this solar energy, meaning the energy is sent back off into space. Less ice caps mean less solar energy bounced away, and more absorbed by the Earth and atmosphere, which in turn causes more green house effect.

In the world of the Matrix, if the sky has been scorched in such a way as to take away this abundant power source from the machines, it has the (likely) unintentional side effect of removing this same energy source from the humans as well. Without solar energy making it past the black clouds, none of that energy will reach the Earth to raise temperatures or offer other processes the energy required to continue. The movement of atmosphere is likely to stagnate. Furthermore, there is now no energy to allow plants to synthesize sugars or oxygen. After several hundred years, what sort of oxygen levels will remain for the humans to continue respiring?

It is often suggested that geothermal energy is utilized (at least by the humans) in order to power their last city. I will have to assume it is utilizing this energy source to produce the oxygen and other necessary life continuing elements for the humans. Growing crops deep beneath the surface of the Earth, using artificial light sources. Or perhaps there are no crops, and technology is such that the required food sources are manufactured, though from what I cannot guess. Visions of Soylent Green come to mind.

It is a fact of our “real world” that no conversion process is ever 100% efficient. That is, when converting mechanical energy into electrical energy, there will always be some energy lost in the conversion. This is often due to such things as friction (mechanical) or resistance (electrical), both of which end up producing a byproduct of heat. Are we to believe that either the machines or the humans in our near future will somehow resolve these efficiency problems? The swinging pendulum will eventually stop if not maintained by small pushes during its swings.

The biggest problem with scorching the sky is that it does not only present a significant problem for the machines, it presents an extinction level event for the humans as well. Without the abundant solar energy that our “real world” depends on, life cannot be sustained. Perhaps there might continue some small, strange creatures in the depths of the oceans where their respiratory processes are virtually alien to our own, but human life is pretty much impossible without the sun. To be quite blunt, without the sun, both the machine civilization as well as the human one will simply die out over a period of time, as their collective energy reserves are depleted. I would have given them perhaps one generation, but considering the energy requirements to maintain a war, perhaps I am being too generous.

The scorched sky problem seems to place a firm nail in the coffin for this story, but it is certainly not the only major issue. Another large theme in this story is the idea of free will. It is suggested that choice is a problem the machines are unable to resolve within their human farms. The earlier iterations of the Matrix did not properly account for the free will of the occupants, and disaster followed. And so, it was decided that humans had to have a say (however small) in the playing out of the grand simulation. Choices were programmed in, at a near unconscious level. Just enough to allow the humans to accept the program, though with a growing probability of disaster from systemic anomalous code brought about from the free will problem.

Essentially, the story is suggesting an incompatibility between the hard determinism of the machines and the free will of the humans. I will continue with this perceived false dilemma, but take a moment to point out that determinism and free will are not mutually exclusive. It may be true that we, as a species, have not found an entirely satisfactory explanation of how free will might possibly fit inside our seemingly deterministic universe, but this does not suggest that these alternative viewpoints are incommensurable. The story is making a bit of a leap here to suggest that one or the other must prevail. (And also that one of the two is somehow superior in the process.)

In the story, the solution to this problem is the creation of a prophesy: the path of the one. The anomalous code within the simulation culminates in the emergence of the One. That is, after a time, the progressive collection of all the doubts of all the occupants within the Matrix over time swells and manifests through an individual who we call Neo. Neo, in this case, is the key representative of freedom, unburdened by the rules of determinism. He is special. He is an exception. The rules of the Matrix do not apply to him. He doesn’t believe in all this “fate crap.”

And so he and his friends follow the path of the one in order to save humanity from the prison that is the Matrix… Wait, what? His key defining feature is that he believes determinism is fundamentally wrong, and he is going to follow a predetermined path in order to make his point? This is what prophecy is. It is fate. I would say it is fate repackaged, but it isn’t even that. Prophecy is fate. Okay, prophecy is the foretelling of fated events, whereas fate is the manifestation of those events. However, they are not separate things. They are clearly linked quite tightly.

In other words, the protagonists in the story of the Matrix are following a predetermined, causally established sequence of events in order to demonstrate how free will exists and will save them all. Neo will simply choose the path, over not following the path. His choices amount to making the correct choices, lest all fails and the world ends. It isn’t nearly as clear as a scorched sky, but am I to accept this really?

The characters insist that this free will exists and is why there is a problem. The system works as hard as it can to accommodate all these choices people are making, including the choices of the one himself. The path is a method to do this. After all, he has to be given these choices, even at a near unconscious level. Every conflict and event he encounters is a test, where he must make choices in order to progress the storyline and plot. He could always choose not to progress the plot, but lucky for us he does.

The Oracle does suggest why this is the case. For her, it isn’t about what choices he will make, as she suggests “you’ve already made it [the choice]. You’re here to try to understand why you made it.” For her, the choices are already predetermined. The issue is not making a choice, it is understanding why a choice was made the way it was. This is not an argument in support of freedom, this is an argument against. This is an argument suggesting that free will may look like it exists, but in fact it does not. It is all an illusion.

Neo may not want to believe in fate, but his actions persistently present an opposing belief. Morpheus is even worse in this regard. When the protagonists encounter each strange being with incredibly and ridiculously contrived instructions that are meant to allow them to prove that free will exists and free humanity from their enslavement in simulation, they quickly get in line and progress the plot as expected. The Merovingian himself makes a joke about this; about how understanding is power, and so understanding choices makes one powerful. He even offers the protagonists another wild goose chase in order to progress the plot.

Then note how Morpheus later suggests in the elevator that “what happened happened and couldn’t have happened any other way.” This is the furthest thing from an argument in favor of free will. The characters entrench themselves in incredibly convoluted plans, like crazy Rube Goldberg machines, because it is this level of complexity that seems to suggest something greater. It seems like complexity is the key to freedom. The more complex a system is, the more it is believed to be representative of freedom.

As a very poignant example, when the Keymaker is telling the protagonists the precise plan that is required in order to allow Neo to open the door and enter the Source, and there just so happens to be all the things in place that are needed to accomplish this insane mission, Morpheus doesn’t pause and suggest a problem, he suggests it is providence. Instead of recognizing that this latest heist plan is simply too ridiculous and coincidental, he suggests the prophecy is coming to conclusion.

There are many such examples throughout the story. The characters are oblivious. They simply cannot see that these complicated procedures are orchestrated by a higher power. They take it as being fate. The audience similarly follows by the nose and doesn’t question it either. No one asks the natural question that ought to be asked: “who comes up with this stuff?”

My point, if it isn’t clear, is that making something hard to follow and complicated does not equate to breaking out of the chains of determinism. Just because I cannot see all the causal connections between two events does not mean those connections do not exist. To argue in favor of free will simply because I cannot understand, myself, how something could possibly come about. To do so seems to demonstrate a significant level of ignorance. It is like suggesting that “features of living things are too complex to be the result of natural selection.” Complexity is poor evidence in support of an argument toward Intelligent Design, or any other conclusion.

I am a limited being, with limited capacities. While I can know much, I will never know everything. In fact, the amount I am able to grasp at any given moment in time seems incredibly small when compared to all there is to know about everything. It is a fact of my existence that I will not have the complete picture of things all the time. I will be forced to make choices with insufficient information quite frequently. I do the best I can, given my particular circumstances at any given moment. This does not mean my choices are themselves unpredictable. This does not mean that there was no causal chain connecting my situation to my choices. It simply means I do not know how it is connected. This is very different from saying that it is not possible to know, or to say that it is entirely unpredictable.

It raises the question regarding what precisely free will or freedom might actually be. Human brains are incredibly complicated. Does this suggest that freedom exists in brains, as a result of the fact that I do not understand how brains operate? That because I cannot predict something, that something simply cannot be predicted by anyone or anything? It would be like suggesting that because I dislike a certain flavour of ice cream, that flavour must be disliked by all. If that were true, one might ask the question “why make that flavour of ice cream at all?”

The Matrix story isn’t without flaws. Even simply taking a moment to discuss a couple of its weaknesses can generate very interesting discussion. This is what makes the Matrix so interesting. This is what makes the Matrix story so enjoyable. It isn’t about how perfectly or imperfectly the The Wachowskis wrote their story, because they definitely seemed to overlook some significant things. What I think makes more sense to focus on is the questions and discussions raised by their story. This is what makes the Matrix interesting.

The Rarity of Free Will

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What could possess me to make another post so quickly? An epiphany. A revelation. Many years in the making. The adjusted belief that perhaps freedom does exist, but it is simply so very rare.

In the beginning, about when I was in high school, I started to doubt the ideas of free will. More specifically, the idea of an effect without a cause. I would play Dungeons & Dragons with my friends, and I considered the randomness of rolling a die. When one throws the cube, it bounces around before settling down with one of its six faces showing up toward the person. The epitome of random. But is it really?

In high school, I took physics classes, and perhaps it was due to my novel education that I considered the situation carefully. Were I to know the precise velocity that the die was released, the effects of the atmosphere on the cube as it flew through the air, the imperfections in the surface as it struck down, the coefficients of friction, and all of the various minutia of the events, using a bit of math I could probably predict which face would end up showing. Sure, to know all of these details may not be feasible; I am merely human with limited capacities. But if I could have somehow acquired all of this knowledge, I feel quite confident I could do it. I could predict this random event.

But that becomes a contradiction, does it not? Part of what is baked into the definition of random is that it is unpredictable. To be truly random, no amount of knowledge should ever be sufficient to perform such a calculation. Certainly there is a conflict here. Either my idea is incorrect, or there are not as many random events in our universe as I believed. In fact, what if there are no random events at all?

I’ve been working on computers for most of my life. Computers can generate random numbers, can’t they? Well, as it turns out, no they cannot. The algorithms used by computers to provide seemingly random information can be exceedingly creative, running up against the feasibility concern I’ve raised above. But the results are still not truly or purely random. The use of seemingly unpredictable events from the outside environment (the passage of time, the manner in which I move my mouse, the choice and patterns I employ when utilizing my keyboard, etc) are called entropy and are used to seed the random number generators in our favorite electronic devices. It’s random, but really, it’s not.

There is a marked difference between something that is entirely unpredictable because no amount of knowledge could ever be acquired to predict a result, and something that could be predicted given enough time and effort. The question I posed to a philosophy group this past summer was to suggest that were I God, with an omniscient and omnipotent nature, the feasibility issue might be overlooked. God, I said, could predict these unpredictable events. Unfortunately for me, the suggestion of being God simply overshadowed any attempt at a reasonable discussion after that point.

However, this is the point I am making. For something to be truly random, even God would not be able to predict the outcome. If God could predict the outcome, then it isn’t truly random. Does true randomness exist in our universe? Or does everything bow down to the law of causality, with every single effect being caused by some other event? It seems impossible for us to ever determine such a thing.

If I exist in a hard deterministic universe, where all things follow causality, then there seems to be another very serious problem. There are other things I cherish and value that seem impossible. True creativity seems impossible as well; anything I may want to call creative is simply the reorganization and reassembly of other past things. Perhaps I might want to include the idea of accidents promoting creativity, but as with the previous discussion of randomness, accidents are simply expected events that may not feasibly be predicted either.

Freedom is another such thing. I am speaking of the sort of freedom that includes unpredictability as part of its description. The sort of freedom that I assume God would have, and that I hope I too have. The free will that allows me to break out of a purely deterministic universe by injecting something like an uncaused cause into the mix. If true randomness and true creativity cannot be, then neither can true freedom it seems.

I told my own mother my discovery one day, telling her that I could not believe in free will. Fate, I said, must be how things operate (using the term as I wasn’t aware of the term deterministic at the time). Her response was both passionate and quite surprising to me. “Go step in front of a moving bus,” she said, “if what you say is true, then you will not be harmed.” I was shocked. Of course I would be harmed I told her, but the discussion simply became ridiculous. I could not, for the longest time, understand why she had suggested such a thing.

Later, I realized that what she was suggesting wasn’t quite the same thing as I am discussing here. For her, I think I sounded pompous and arrogant. Like perhaps I felt I had divine protection and influence, or some other equally unlikely blessing. I think I understood the reactions Joe Bauers in Idiocracy was receiving from people after having been frozen for 500 years. Like Joe, I was not trying to impress or sound special. I was simply stating things as I understood them. Communications can be quite challenging at times.

As a result of that interaction with my own mother, I decided it would be best to broach the subject differently going forward. I would say that I don’t believe in free will, but I am open to the possibility. If ever someone was able to convince me of the possibility, I would take the argument seriously.

Fast forward now to the years of the pandemic. Marvel releases the television show Loki. In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there is a multiverse. That is, there is not one universe but many. There is not one me, but many, each just a little bit different than the others. In each case, the differences are typically caused by my exercising of my free will. When an event occurs whereby I can choose between more than one option, in truth I actually choose ALL options. Each option I choose forks the universe into another parallel universe. In one of these universes I chose the vanilla ice cream, but in another I chose chocolate.

One issue I found with the show was that there seemed not to be as many Nexus events (these free will events that fork the timeline) as I would have expected. After all, I am faced with numerous free will choices every day. Possibly each hour, minute, or even second. The administration of the timeline, trying to address the multitude of Nexus events caused by me alone would be untenable, let along that there are literally billions upon billions of other individuals with free will causing as many other Nexus events across time and space. So, in the show, why are there only a few at a time? The Time Variance Authority (TVA) seems pretty calm, simply sending out their teams occasionally to address these problem events.

The show never addresses my concern, but I have a theory: perhaps the reason Nexus events are so rare is that free will is not so prevalent as I would like to think. What if I am not expressing a free will when selecting between ice cream flavours, as my selection perhaps follows a more predictable structure due to my preferences and past experiences. If this is true, it may even be possible that not all individuals are even capable of expressing a free will. Perhaps free will is an extremely rare occurrence.

The Loki television show may have sparked this thought process, but it has been the immanent release of The Matrix Resurrections that has truly pushed my mind to think about this outside the box. Specifically, not the upcoming film itself, but rethinking about the previous films.

In particular, a person on Reddit posted a question regarding what would happen if two people inside the Matrix were to mate and have offspring. They wondered whether the offspring would be a computer program or somehow connected to a physical human outside the Matrix. Initially I laughed, but then I thought about it, and the question is absolutely brilliant. The answer is both surprising and depressing at the same time.

The Matrix is a simulation. Any individual who connects to the simulation will experience their own personal perspective of the simulation. While the simulation can offer the opportunity for individuals to interact with other individuals within the simulation, ultimately the bulk of any one person’s experience is being provided by the simulation itself. The simulation is what controls the environment and all things that the individual can interact with. If a bird flies by, the simulation will control that bird (unless the bird is an occupant jacked into the simulation, which is likely not occurring very often, especially in the storyline of The Matrix).

The answer to the above question is that any offspring would be a product of the simulation. The offspring would be a program, or part of the simulation’s program. Simply code. Similarly, if a physical baby human is born and immediately connected to the simulation, the simulation itself will have to provide virtual parents and all the other necessary elements to attend to the new life. Even if one thinks for a moment that those running the simulation might decide to take a moment to try and find appropriately similar parents or children to connect to the strange virtual relationship, aside from the most ridiculously complicated procedure that would render the simulation untenable, they would be mistaken. If the point of the Matrix is to sedate the occupants of the simulation in order to facilitate leaching energy off those occupants, a process attempting to maintain the connections between the occupants in this manner would use up all the available energy acquired in the process. It wouldn’t make any sense, because it is unreasonable. It isn’t feasible.

In other words, most of the “players” in the simulation must necessarily be controlled by the simulation and not be occupants. What is often refereed to in games as Non Player Characters or NPCs. There would be far more NPCs in any simulation than individuals connected to it. In fact, it would even make sense for there to be only one individual to be in simulation, with ALL other individuals being NPCs. To be in simulation is to enter into a sort of solipsism.

To further expand on this situation, consider the possibility that I am in simulation presently. It has been suggested that if a civilization develops the capacity to perform ultra realistic simulations, they are likely to run many, many such simulations. And if there are so many simulations in existence, the likelihood is quite high that I am within one of these simulations. To have so many simulations seems quite similar to the description of a multiverse.

If the probability is high that I am in simulation, then it is similarly high that any individual I encounter is an NPC. In fact, yes, it is also possible I am such an NPC as well. In any case, even if I am not an NPC, there are still going to be an incredibly high number of NPCs in this universe I find myself in. I could possibly be the only non NPC as well.

Finally, if I make the assumption that an NPC will NOT have free will, then I can now explain why free will would be so incredibly rare. With so few non NPCs in existence, even across so many simulated universes, the number of Nexus events in the Loki television show would be quite small and very manageable. And in my “real world” that I occupy right this moment, I can provide a reasonable explanation as to why free will itself would be so incredibly rare, to the point that it may not even exist.

In Simulation

crimson

The new Matrix film is nearly upon us, and so my partner and I are watching all the previous films and supplementary material. An important part of this process is discussing the films after viewing, sharing the various revelations we have that we may have missed on previous viewings. It speaks to the quality of the original story that we continue having revelations and epiphanies even 20 years later.

My latest revelation is one that is raising some rather disturbing questions regarding the story and regarding how consciousness operates in our real world. I might even suggest it is a weakness in my previous arguments regarding consciousness thus far. The issue of what it means to be “in simulation.”

Of course, before I can even talk about being “in simulation,” I will have to discuss what a simulation is. As it turns out, trying to elucidate the idea of a simulation caused a rather heated debate between my partner and I. We cannot agree what a simulation is. And so, in this post, I will be primarily focused on my interpretation. I will try to share her interpretation, but the honest truth is that I don’t really understand her interpretation.

I have spoken before about identity and of the world. My identity is what I (and others) consider to be what constitutes me. The “I” when I say I. In some sense, my identity is what separates what is me from the rest of the world, and from others. Which brings us to the idea of the world. The world is that which is not me, and very generally what is not others. You are not the world, but you are a part of the world, just as I am a part of the world as well.

However, the world also includes that which is not a part of you or me. The world, in some sense, can exist without either of us. The world (we generally believe) can and will persist even when I cease to exist. Furthermore, the world contains objects that both you and I can observe and generally agree upon. We can both see the same objects, albeit from slightly different perspectives. And so, very generally, the world is the same for me as it is for you. At least, this is a significant assumption I make about the world. And I believe most people make a very similar assumption, even if they are not aware they are making this assumption.

A simulation is also a world, though not the “real” world. The world we presently inhabit, I believe, most will agree is considered to be the “real” world. This blog, this website, is a part of the “real” world. This blog is not necessarily a part of a simulation. Having said all this, I will acknowledge that as I continue this discussion, questions may be raised regarding the integrity of this.

A simulation is loosely based on the “real” world, and will be a lesser version of it. That is, a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world in some way, and may even share some elements of it. However, a simulation will always be absent some of the elements of the “real” world as well. This is a large reason we will call it a simulation. A simulation, in some sense, is a straw man argument of the “real” world.

Like the “real” world, a simulation is governed by rules and laws. Or, as my partner has pointed out, perhaps not so much governed by as perhaps explained by. For example, in the “real” world there appears to be some sort of attractive force that acts upon all bodies. We often refer to this force as gravity. We even have various mathematical formulas we use to predict how gravity will affect various bodies, and we use science in order to validate these formulas as best we can. Gravity is a sort of governing rule of the “real” world.

A simulation can include gravity, though it does not necessarily have to. The rules of the simulation may be similar to the rules of the “real” world, or they may be vastly different. What both the simulation and the “real” world share is the fact that there are these rules or laws. Navigating a simulation can be done in a similar fashion to navigating in the “real” world; an understanding of these rules is what is required. If I understand how gravity operates (at least on some rudimentary level), then I can navigate through a world governed by gravity.

The point of all this pedantic examination is that a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world. In the case of the Matrix from the films, the Matrix is a simulation that bears a lot of similarities to the “real” world. However, as the character Mouse points out in the first film, it is possible the machines (who created the simulation of the Matrix) could have either accidentally or intentionally made errors:

“How did the machines really know what Tasty Wheat tasted like. huh?. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe what I think Tasty Wheat tasted like actually tasted like oatmeal or tuna fish. That makes you wonder about a lot of things. You take chicken for example, maybe they couldn’t figure out what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything.”

While the machines may have correctly or incorrectly represented Tasty Wheat or chicken, the point is that these humans who are now discussing what their “single cell protein combined with synthetic aminos, vitamins, and minerals” actually tastes like are basing their assessment on information they have received from a simulated reality that they acknowledge may have provided them misinformation. In the end, in truth, they have no idea what their meal tastes like, only that it has a taste.

This is one of the critical issues with the idea of simulation and of simulacra. The information we receive from our interactions with any particular world are what we use to recognize and understand the elements of that world. This is the heart of the arguments made by the Empiricists of the 18th century; that all knowledge is based on experience. What they may not have concerned themselves with as much is the reliability of the world that provided them that experience.

Which brings us to the heart of my own discussion here. What does it mean to be “in simulation?” More specifically, what is happening when we are in simulation? In the story, when someone is in the Matrix, does their mind or consciousness or soul leave their body and exist within the Matrix? Or does their mind remain within their body, and the simulation is simply altering the interface one has with their world, hijacking their senses and replacing those experiences with alternate ones?

As I write these words, it seems obvious what the answer ought to be. In the case of the film, as seems to be presented, human minds exist in human bodies, and connecting to the Matrix does not somehow separate the two. A physical cable is connected to the brain stem, and all the sensory input normally fed to the brain by the rest of the body is replaced by alternative sensory information provided by the simulation. Morpheus rightly inquires: “What is real? How do you define real? If you’re talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then real is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.” It does not matter the source of those signals, the brain will interpret whatever signals it receives.

The problem raised by the story is that if all of your senses have been hijacked, then you might not be aware that the world you think you are in is in fact a fabrication. You might be in simulation, and not know it. The issue my partner and I debated was whether one could be in simulation and still know they were in simulation.

The manner in which our debate manifested raised an even more insidious issue: where does one’s mind or consciousness reside while in simulation? For me, it seemed obvious: the mind continues to reside where it always seems to reside, in the body in the “real” world. However my partner did not agree. For her, while in simulation, the mind or consciousness left the body and resided in the simulation itself, inside the simulated body. Which case is true can have significant ramifications on events that follow.

As Morpheus suggests, the body cannot live without the mind. Therefore, the mind must necessarily remain within the body at all times, lest the body die. If this is true, then the mind remains in the body in the “real” world. But if this is how it works, then why would unplugging the cable that connects the physical body to the Matrix cause anything bad to happen? How did Apoc and Switch die? If the mind is always in the body, then disconnecting a cable should cause no issues for the individual, as their mind and body remain intact. Only the connection to the simulation is severed, which would seem to merely end the simulation for the individual. They should have simply woken like from a dream.

The alternative is equally problematic. If the mind in fact does leave the body and enter the Matrix, then the body is without a mind and ought to expire. Clearly, within the story, this does not happen. So if minds can successfully be separated from bodies, then Morpheus must be mistaken. Bodies can exist and continue without minds, perhaps on some sort of life support. However, if this is now the case, then how does anything that happens with the mind while it is disconnected from the body affect the body. How can the mind make real such things as injuries?

My partner and I did come up with another alternative that could explain what is going on. What if the mind does not entirely leave the body? What if the mind is sort of tethered to the body, so that a part of the mind remains with the body but a part of the mind enters the Matrix? This would resolve a number of issues, including how the mind makes things real for the body. This tether is what is maintained through the physical cabling that is connected to the brain stem. Severing the tether would be akin to lobotomy, which could then be severe enough to end a person’s life.

In some fashion, the mind is in both places at the same time. Both in the “real” world and at the same time in simulation. If we think of the mind in the “real” world and the mind in simulation as being two parts, then they could be considered connected like in quantum entanglement. I admit, this sort of view of the mind seems incredibly unsatisfying for me. It reminds me of René Descartes’s pineal gland.

In our “real” world, we really have very little understanding of minds or consciousnesses. What we can suggest is that minds and consciousnesses are very unlike bodies or other physical objects. One cannot crack open someone’s head and look at their thoughts. In fact, if you consider how a closed-circuit television (CCTV) system operates, there is nothing that guarantees that the mind exists within a body at all. The mind and consciousness could exist elsewhere entirely. Only the apparent localization created by the position of the various sensory inputs suggests that the mind ought to exist within the physical body.

Without the ability to experience what others experience, I cannot say much about experiences other than my own. What I can say is that when I have dreamed, I have had dreams where I was convinced that the reality of the dream was the “real” world. Only after I awoke from those dreams did I realize my error, and then acknowledged that the dream was in fact a dream and not real. I have also been so immersed in various experiences, such a watching a very engrossing film or a very intense video game, that I momentarily forgot that the world of the immersion was not the same as the “real” world.

In every case (so far) I can say that once I finished or left the simulation, I realized that it was a simulation. Once I had escaped, I felt that I knew with confidence what was “real.” But that only really suggests one thing: that in order to know that something is not real, I have to leave it into something that is more real. In other words, the only reason I have to suggest this is the real world presently is that I have not yet experiences a more real world.