Review of "Wholeness and the Implicate Order" by David Bohm

David Bohm (1917-1992) was a physicist heavily involved with quantum mechanics, systems processes, and, in the latter stages of his life, the relationship between consciousness and his theory of matter.  Having spent the early part of his career in the laboratory examining the behavior of subatomic particles, gaining recognition and winning awards for his work (including the Nobel), his views regarding the direction of physics and the fundamental nature of reality eventually caused him to diverge from the traditional scientific community.  Reacting to the “Copenhagen interpretation,”—the consensus of his peers that the paradox as to how matter simultaneously exists in both static as well dynamic form could be explained—as well as physics continued inability to discover the “ultimate particle,” Bohm retreated from the scientific community to develop his ideas independently.

Believing that “a more harmonious and orderly approach to life as a whole, rather than to a static and fragmentary view which does not treat knowledge as a process, and which splits knowledge off from the rest of reality” was the key to overcoming the anomalies encountered by classical physics, in 1980 Bohm published Wholeness and the Implicate Order (81).  Combining knowledge from the immeasurable, “i.e. that which cannot be named, described or understood through any form of reason,” with the tested outcomes of scientific research, Bohm proposed a theory of reality compatible with both the phenomena of matter scientifically proven to date and the empirical results of intuitive experience (29).  

Under intense microscopic examination, all matter exhibits behavior indeterminate to human analysis: sub-atomic particles simultaneously exist in both wave and particle form, a paradox which cannot be overcome according to Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle.  Thus, in order to surmount the impasse, Bohm proposed that a deeper, indefinable, order-defining structure underlies all definable movement and existence.  This structure he called the “implicate order.”  Patterning all that is both comprehensible and incomprehensible to humans, implicate order is the primary causative structure to reality.  Emulating the polarized wholeness of Daoist thought, Bohm’s theory posits that what is comprehended and scientifically quantifiable is the unfolded, or explicate order, and what cannot be comprehended scientifically—dependent on intuition to perceive—is the enfolded, or implicate order.  According to Bohm, in the enfolded order “space and time are no longer the dominant factors determining the relationships of dependence or independence of different elements;” as a result, “a more basic connection of elements is possible.”  It is this underlying fundamentalism—its primary causative nature—which defines the implicate order as “a harmoniously organized totality of order and measures,” patterning and structuring reality (xviii). 

Bohm goes onto define the sub-categories of his theory, including interactivity—the movement of the system in which content and meaning are conveyed between the implicate and explicate order—and the degrees of applicability.  Furthermore, as Bohm forever sought to avoid the compartmentalization and isolation of knowledge, he sees the “fragmentary view” as a perspective “which creates an endless series of problems and interferes with our clarity of perception so seriously as to prevent us from being able to solve most of them.”  Thus, the wholeness and interconnectedness he purports in his theory of implicate order can thus be perceived as a remedy to that worldview which “has brought about pollution, destruction of the balance of nature, over-population, worldwide economic and political disorder, and the creation of an environment that is neither physically nor mentally healthy for the majority who live in it” (1-2).  As Bohm makes clear at the outset of his book, “what is primarily needed is a growing realization of the extremely great danger of going on with a fragmentary process of thought” (24).  Those interested in similar ideas would do well to invest in this book as the details of Implicate Order are more interesting than the outlay.

Culture Corner: Poland - Out the door...

From a landscape point of view, Poland has a lot in common with America’s New England.  Similar to the Appalachians, a single ridge of mountains transverses the southern border of Poland, Germany to the Ukraine.  Spread from this chain to the sea in the north lie loosely rolling hills, farmlands and forest, the latter occupying the majority.  Here and there are scattered lakes and ponds, and connecting them, the lazy, winding river.  The occasional city appears in a shallow valley, but most of the Polish population lives in towns and villages, the distance to the nearest house never far.  Sound like Maine?  

The flora and fauna one sees in Poland are easily recognizable to anyone who has spent time in America’s northeast.  Birch, pine, spruce, maple and the like populate the woods, along with deer, fox, squirrels, and mice.  There are of course some differences – no wild boar or badgers root the forests in Maine, but generally speaking, the similarities strike home watching the landscape roll by the car window.  It goes without saying then that I spend a lot of my free time here as I do at home in the US: in the out-of-doors.  Hiking, climbing, and just being under the sun are regular parts of my life.  As such, I’d like to share some photos with you so you can have an idea for yourself what the Polish landscape is like.

Here is an actual view looking out the car window.  (This photo fails to convey an important difference between the US and Poland, however: the sheer lunacy of Polish drivers.  Undoubtedly as this photo is being taken, one of these drivers/madmen is getting ready to pass us at autobahn speeds.)

  A very typical Polish village on a summer’s day.  

 And one of those nice meadows filled with wildflowers…

The Tatras are Poland and Slovakia’s only claim to real mountains, i.e. mountains which require more gear than the latest North Face fleece and a bottle of Dasani.  The highest is Gerlach at 2,655 m (8,710 ft for the metric impaired) with several of the surrounding peaks nearly as high.   They’re beautiful in every season (as you will see) and worthy of the numerous postcards for sale in the tourist towns of the foothills.

This is a National Park on the border with the Ukraine called Bieszczady.  It rolls with sublime hills, wide open vistas, and these colorful trees in autumn.

This is a path very near my house I often go running on.  Could’ve been New England, no?

Like the Yeti, here is a rare sighting of the author himself enjoying Bieszcady in November 2011.

Winter too settles in, temperatures drop, and water becomes walkable.  Above is a scene from a local park called, in fact, South Park.  If it could speak, I’m sure it would lay honor to the name decades before the cut-and-pastes from Colorado made the moniker famous.

This has happened to me only once in Poland, but I thought I would offer it as proof that at least it’s possible.  It goes without saying then, the blizzards that the grandmas in Maine drive through with the pedal to the floor are not as easily handled by the Polish.

Hiking in the Karkonoszy mountains last winter, this is a “cabin” we stayed in.  

In the Tatras once more, this time it’s winter.  On the right is a lake called “Eye of the Sea,” and since they’ve built a stone stairway to it, even ladies in high heels have access.   In the upper right is Poland’s highest peak, Rysy.

This time truly a Yeti, here I am climbing Rysy.  Crampons buckled as tight as I could get them, ice axe in a death grip, and teeth grinding with every step vertically, we made this (successful) assault in early winter 2010. 

But like Maine and New England, waiting through the winter long enough means that the sun will shine.  Which also means you can once again go with your friends to the local lake for a nice, refreshing swim…

 

For those who were paying attention, you probably noticed that not only does the landscape bear strong resemblance to the northeast of America, the flow and look of seasons is likewise very similar.  So, even though I’m six hours ahead of most of you, we still hold a cycle of life in common.  Think about it.

Review of "Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth" by James Lovelock

While scholars such as Capra, Laszlo, Bohm and others have continued to examine the unexplainable anomalies impenetrable to physics, scientists in the field of chemistry have simultaneously been hypothesizing on the fundamental nature of life on earth based on atmospheric and ecological data. Like their physicist colleagues, rather than dividing the molecule into smaller components as an atom is sub-divided by classic physics, these scientists have approached the interaction of elements and compounds holistically, seeking the underlying patterns which fashion the manner in which primary changes, reformations, and coexistence in compound matter occur.  One such theory, controversial since its emergence in 1979, is Gaia Theory, expounded by James Lovelock in his bestselling book Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth.  

Immediately clashing with the mechanistic worldview, Lovelock contends that modern science’s approach to knowledge is like reading only specific subsections, let alone whole chapters, of a book.  The ensuing narrow view renders knowledge of the book as a whole—a holistic view of the earth—“unnoticed and unexamined” (xii).  For Lovelock, putting the known pieces—the subsections—together into a cohesive and meaningful whole is of utmost importance when seeking a path toward mitigating the concerns raised by Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, that is, of the environmental issues seemingly brought about by modern technological development. 

Employing a “top-down” instead of a “bottom-up” perspective on life on earth, Lovelock’s Gaia Theory, rather than seeing earth as a collection of parts functioning independently, proposes that the whole of earth and its biosphere are in fact a large “meta-organism,” an entity he names Gaia after the Greek goddess (x).  Lovelock defines Gaia as “a complex entity involving the Earth’s biosphere, atmosphere, oceans, and soil; the totality constituting a feedback or cybernetic system which seeks an optimal physical and chemical environment for life on this planet” (10).

Lovelock’s arguments for the existence of Gaia are founded upon simple logic and draw upon intuitive experience to conceptualize the structure and processes of his model, namely the stability of the earth’s temperature through the eons, the consistent existence of life in a state of non-equilibrium, and the planet we know seems representative of the cybernetic system all other forms of life exhibit.  From these observations Lovelock infers that the earth, the biosphere and its inherent interactive systems cannot be seen as anything but an interconnected being.  “The entire range of living matter on Earth,” he writes, “from whales to viruses, and from oaks to algae, could be regarded as constituting a single living entity, capable of manipulating the Earth’s atmosphere to suit its overall needs and endowed with faculties and powers beyond those of its constituent parts” (9).  No more a holistic version of life on earth could be imagined.  

Gaia Theory proposes that the earth, as a living organism, is a collection of systems within a larger system wherein each system maintains importance relative to the others, like the heart compared to a finger.  In such an organic system, Lovelock, not surprisingly, considers human life equal to other animate forms of life, each fighting for their space and resources in true Darwinian style.  However, it is important to note he does not accord humans the particular importance Protagoras did when he said “man is the measure of all things.”  Nor does Lovelock subscribe to what Christianity affirms in the book of Genesis, according mankind dominion over “the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and every creature that moves on the ground”.  Rather, Lovelock explicitly states: “it can now be demonstrated… that a diverse chain of predators and prey is more stable and a stronger ecosystem than a single self-contained species” (21).  Implied in this statement is a thought that one species’ attempt to isolate themselves in the overall web of life does not lead to a strong and healthy ecosystem.  In fact, Lovelock relegates humanity and the variety of animals and plants to the periphery of importance, seeing other, more significant forms of life as existing closer to the heart of being, more crucial to the healthy functioning of the overall organism.  Places such as continental shelves, salt marshes, forest ecosystems, and freshwater wetlands which cycle oxygen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen and other important chemicals through the air to keep our biosphere stable are given precedence.  

Despite early criticism, Gaia Theory has since come to be considered a viable scientific theory.  Numerous books, papers, and articles have been written either directly utilizing Lovelock’s tenets.  Regardless whether the theory is correct, the environmental sensitivity and awareness of need to alter humanity’s present course remains an even more fundamental message of Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth, and is worthy of reading for that alone.

Review of "Science and the Akashic Field: An Integral Theory of Everything" by Ervin Laszlo

Metaphysical phenomena, such as the earth’s biosphere behaving like a massive cybernetic system or the wave-particle paradox of physics, have been interpreted in a variety of ways as humanity becomes increasingly aware of its existence.  In recent decades these and other phenomena have been utilized in combination with other less scientific but more theological and pedagogical ideas to formulate concepts regarding the fundamental nature of reality - as Bohm and Lovelock have done.  Another example of such an amalgam is the work of Ervin Laszlo, especially as expressed in his 2007 Science and the Akashic Field: An Integral Theory of Everything.

Based on the anomalies discovered in the fields of physics, biology, and psychology, Laszlo extrapolates on the Buddhist idea of an Akashic field, utilizing it figuratively in combination with relative scientific knowledge to explain the indeterminate fashion in which life exists.  According to Buddhism, the Akashic field permeates all things and forms “the womb from which everything we perceive with our senses has emerged and into everything will ultimately re-descend” (xi).  Primarily a metaphor for the lack of language to describe the interconnected, cyclical harmony Laszlo sees the earth and life as existing within, the Akashic field, much like Bohm’s implicate order, serves as an omnipresent field, a suffuse, indeterminate substance through which reality is ordered into a totality of life.  

In the end, Laszlo’s book will interest readers who enjoy the work of Fritjof Capra, David Bohm, Rupert Sheldrake, James Hillman, and other researchers, scientists, and scholars who incorporate less rational ideas into conventional scientific research and writing.  Laszlo’s style is smooth and easy to read, and offers evidence from physics research to support those claims for which intuition is not needed.  An interesting read in the least.