Some while back there was an article on the website by Cameron Solnordal called ‘The meaning of 142’. I believe the number was provided by a computer called Deep Thought in the book and TV serial The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I don’t doubt that its author Douglas Adams was being flippant; but I’d like to think that he also knew he was also making the point that it is absurd to seek a numerical answer (or any other kind of answer) to a facile question, namely: What is the meaning of life, the Universe, and everything?

Such seeking is inherently parochial, and oh so human. There is no need for a physical system to have a point. Pencils have them, and so do good stories. But the Universe? Not on your Nelly, or mine.

If such a physical system becomes so refined that it reaches the stage of organic life, and if the nervous systems of that organic life required to order it reach a critical mass of complexity such that consciousness is achieved (because it is required), it is unavoidable that in the absence of knowledge, the conscious life-form will seek for such a point.

The notion that we are a product of contingency and necessity forged from stars over timescales that are vastly beyond our comprehension (as far beyond that comprehension as the workings of the mechanism that gives rise to it) has been countered for aeons by creationist religions, themselves inevitable in lieu of the staggering amounts of research required to formulate ‘answers’ that approximate ‘reality’.

You will note my parenthesis. They contain the word ‘answers’ and ‘reality’ because of 42. The only absolute reality is mathematic, and mathematics ‘exists’ independently of any ‘thing’. It is hypothetical. It can be applied to physical systems, but has no independent actuality if you require that actuality be quantifiable. Yet mathematics is a phenomenally powerful tool with which to investigate physical systems. There is a ‘thing’ called The Unreasonable Effectiveness of Mathematics, which asks, as objectively as possible, why on earth are we so good at doing maths, and why on earth is mathematics so successful at peeling back the onion skin layers of illusion in nature and revealing the reality within.

But I digress.

‘Physical systems’ (once you start with parentheses you just can’t ‘stop’) relates to both matter and energy, itself only energy as a function of time (E=mc2). It is absolutely the case that 2+2 = 4. It is not absolutely the case that red roses are red, because a rose is a physical system (a structure in space time). A physical system requires an observer, who in observing disturbs. As has been thoroughly discussed by cleverer people than I, the subjective element cannot be subtracted from observable reality (quantum mechanics etc (and that’s one BIG ‘etc’)); therefore the quality of ‘roseness’ is a question of degree . . . which brings us to Fuzzy Logic – one of the great intellectual achievements of the 20th Century.

It brings me, however, to 137.

To rewind slightly, it’s clearly the case that mathematics is an entirely useless tool with which to investigate ethical concepts. They are human modes of living that best suit the individual and the collective. Where though might we consider such concepts to actually exist? In short, in minds and in books. That will do, but it’s not accurate. We might say that they exist wherever they have an effect. We might say lots of things, and we might end up with the motion that lots of things that we consider to have an independent, substantial existence can’t be said to occupy space time in any convenient way. They are hard – or impossible – to measure.

We might even end up saying that reality is inherently immeasurable. Wouldn’t that be fun!

But all this exists in books everywhere written by people who either are clever, or who want you to think they are. One man who actually was clever was Richard Feynman. When he existed in space-time (but wasn’t quantifiable!) Feynman taught physics at Caltech. He was indecently bright, as you might expect, and renowned for his scientific humility. Feynman said physicists ought to put a special sign in their office doors to remind themselves of how much they don't know. The message on the sign would be very simple. It would consist entirely of one number: 137.

The number 137 is called the fine structure constant. It’s central to the Standard Model of cosmology, which has been creaking for some time in the face of data that is causing it to break down, or which is at least highlighting its shortcomings. This, of course, is a cause for celebration. Theories exist only to signpost reality. Once reality overrules them, they change accordingly. This called science, and it’s one of the most misunderstood things in our world. What’s worse is that it’s becoming increasingly misunderstood by a society that may or may not be unhappy with the complexity of reality, and addicted to the quicker fixes of hokum. Its great mistake of course was to invent the atom bomb.

Anyway . . .

Basically, the fine structure constant is the likelihood that an electron will emit or absorb a photon. Therefore it’s fundamental to electromagnetism, which is fundamental to basically everything (and itself one of probably four manifestations of one ‘superforce’ which resolves only at extremely high energies).

The fine structure constant, our friend 137, is deemed so special it has been awarded a letter all of its own. Because it’s all a bit brainy, the letter is Greek, and its alpha (If you must know, alpha is the square of the charge of the electron divided by the speed of light times Planck’s constant. I bet you wish you’d never asked.

What’s staggering to those in the know is that this impossibly subtle and finely balanced relationship is a cute little number like 137. What kind of sets people’s teeth on edge is the fact that it’s a prime number. What sets my mind on fire is the fact that it’s a whole number. Consider this: between every whole number there are literally infinite fractions. The extent, or smallness, or those fractions is just a product of the amount of computing time you have. Set a computer to work spewing out zeros after a decimal point at the time of the Big Bang and stop it at the (hypothetical!) Big Crunch and you’d have a number that is small by human standards. But it would be infinitely far from being infinitely small. Consider then that between all whole numbers there is an oceanic, titanic, limitless, gigantic quantity of other numbers – all just as valid as the whole ones. And then consider that the square of the charge of the electron divided by the speed of light times Planck’s constant is a whole number. If you don’t get chills, read this again or research it in much greater detail until you do.

If Deep Thought had thought more deeply, it might have proposed the number 137 as being the answer to life, the Universe and everything. Because this number pops up in cosmic and microcosmic calculations with an almost eerie frequency. Those of a religious bent might attribute a divine significance to the number. And good luck to them. But the real hammer blow about 137 is you know what?

It’s so what? that’s what.

I have no problem imagining a physical system (the Universe – in terms of Information Theory, one giant computer) big, small, complex, simple, bounded in space-time or not, containing certain numerical nodes, or resonances.

Maybe I’m being unreasonable.

The need to attribute the supernatural to certain events or situations may or may not be considered to be a product of the absence of information. What’s thunder? It’s Thor messing with his angry hammer. See what I mean?

I am filled with my own little joy to sit (how could I stand?), occasionally, and boggle about the fact that alpha is a whole, entire, perfect number. This is an exquisite sensation. It is sublime – as sublime, perhaps, as you average religious ecstasy.

Or should that be ‘ecstasy’?

Nick Green © 2007