An article in today's NYT about a conference on string theory caught my eye and roiled my Taoist sensibilities. Perhaps it is the hubris of referring to a "theory of everything" that gets my goat. I mean, really, "everything"? I know, I know, this is a playful overstatement that refers to a unification of theories dealing with very big and very small physical phenomenon, and not literally "everything," a term which implies all sorts of humanistic impulses and experiences not captured by physics and mathematics (would string theory explain love? I think not).
In any event, however fun it might be to play with strings instead of particles and waves, the theorists are still a long way from "everything," even by their own definitions. I found this article in a 2002 edition of American Scientist that outlines the shortcomings of string theory. This may be somewhat dated, but the big problems it outlines still seem to be unresolved. I like the title of this piece: "Is String Theory Even Wrong?". pointing out the failure to generate falsifiable experiments.
A Taoist would turn this statement around and ask: can string theory ever be right? And the Taoist answer would be no:
It really comes down to some basic assumptions about the cosmos and the capacity of human reason to understand "everything." The Taoist term "Way" comes fairly close to what the physicists mean by "everything," in that it is an attempt to put a label on the totality of all forces and entities in the universe, or, even, the universe itself. Yet in its inclusion of the humanistic dimension of life, Way is everything to an even more inclusive degree than the aspiration of string theory.
But even if we keep the focus to the everything implied by the physicists, a Taoist would be highly skeptical of the idea that "everything" can be reduced to a set of internally coherent and universally applicable principles. The ordering principle of Way, for Taoists, is not so much a singular principle as it is a recognition of a context of simultaneity. Way is everything that is, and is not (it encompasses "non-being" as well as "being") at this moment, centering on the place where I am right now. In five minutes from now the constituents of Way will be different than they are now, and, thus, the "order" will be somewhat different. Moreover, each thing in itself is an embodiment of Way as a whole.
Dynamism and change are key aspects of Way, not static structures, nor interactions that repeat with the formulaic consistency of mathematics. Yes, there is fairly predictable repetition in Way - most poetically represented by the changing seasons and the stages of human life. But there is also always subtle and significant variation, so that no two sunsets are ever exactly the same.
But enough of my talk (which is famously futile, since the first line of the Tao Te Ching tells us that the Way that can be spoken of is not the true Way - i.e. Way cannot be fully captured by our fallible words), here's a nice passage from the Tao Te Ching that gets at the elusiveness of "everything" (and notice the use of the term "thread" in the last line, pretty close to "string"...):
Looked at but never seen, it takes the name "invisible." Listened to but never heard, it takes the name "ethereal." Held tight but never felt, it takes the name "gossamer."
You can't unravel these three, blurred so utterly they've become one,
rising without radiance and setting without darkness, braided together beyond name, woven back always and forever into nothing:
this is called "formless form," or "nothing's image," called "spectral confusion,"
something you meet without seeing a front and follow without seeing a back.
Abiding in the ancient Way to master what has now come to be and fathom its ancient source:
this is called "thread of Way."
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