The Many Times Interpretation
The desire for an absolute seems to be part of the human condition. We need one thing, just one lousy thing, that doesn't move, isn't broken, and can be relied upon to always be there every time we look.
Children as they grow up have to learn what it is that is reliable about experience, and what it is that changes. A small infant attracted by a shiny toy will reach for it even though it is too far away, not having learned about the limits of arms and fingers. A slightly older child will still say that a tower in the distance is on the right side of the road, and then be astounded and insist that the tower has moved when, on coming closer, the road curves so that the tower passes on the left. How can a tower jump over the road? The child still has to learn about curves, and how they affect our perception.
As recently as Gallileo people didn't understand how a ship in the distance would drop below the horizon. It seemed as if the ship were sinking. Two ships moving apart on the ocean would each see the other sink, and a novice sailor might be surprised to meet up with that same ship again in another port. The other ship always seems to sink over the horizon, shrink in the distance, change sides of the path we are on, yet we learn that there is symetry and these effects are illusions, not "real." Not absolute, but relitive somehow to our own position.
Now in special relativity we learn that there is a curve in time. Things that are moving very fast compared to our own movement seem to change shape, shrink over some horizon. Only this time, it is possible using space-like curves for the shrinking object to remain nearby, as in DW's counter-rotating frames example in another thread in this forum. An object moving very fast seems to shrink, even though it is passing close by us. We are surprised to learn that from the point of view of the object, it is we who have shrunk. This is new. Usually things we know about that seem to shrink are far away, and we have become familiar, as adults, with the idea that things far away only seem smaller. In near space, we have come to assume that the balance sheet requires that if you shrink, I will seem bigger to you, and if you grow, I will seem to become smaller. As growing children and as young adults we are surprised to see our parents get smaller, and our children get large. How many times have you said to a child or heard from an adult, the phrase "My, how you have grown!"
Now we have to get our minds around the idea that time is curved, and objects still very close to us in space can seem to shrink in a way that has to do with their being "far away" in some time sense. Usually things far away in time are in the past or the future, and we do not expect to see them sharing our bit of space, but we have to adjust our idea again. THere is a far-away sense in time that is not far away in the past or future or far away in space. This new direction in time is orthagonal, at right angles, to everything we think we know. There is not just one direction in time, there are at least two. There is not just past and future, there is also fast and slow. There may even be other orthagonalities in time, more time dimensions, and we have trouble fitting more ninety degree angles into three dimensional space, so we find this difficult to model in our mind's eye. Yet the evidence is impossible to deny. Time is multidimensional. It curves. There is not just a single straight path from the past through the present into the future.
We deal with the effect of time curvature every day in our ordinary experience. We move. If time were not curved, it could not be so, and the universe would be unitary indeed, not allowing for time or change. There is no great mystery here. We are growing up as a species, and have to get around this new curve. There are more directions than three in space and one in time. We access other directions in time by making choices, that is, by changing our velocities. If we had made the other choice, gone the other way or gone there faster or slower, we would be in a different universe.
We have to accept then that there is not just one universe, which is difficult because the very word "universe" seems to insist that there is just one. That at least seems absolute, unchangeing, reliable. Every time we look, there is only one. But it seems to me now that we must give up even this idea of constancy.
Some have a problem with multiple universes because it seems to them untidy, and anyway, if there are so many universes, what does that say about the total sum of energy? Isn't energy additive and so if there are many universes doesn't this mean that the total sum of energies explodes into unwieldy and embarrassing infinities? I think these arguments are shown to be specious, and it is time to grow up. The Universe, meaning the total sum of everything that is, was, and ever can be, is much bigger than we can imagine.
Let us cease arguing about what is real and what is not real. Your god or my God, and if there is only one God, which of the two should be capitalized? It is a schoolyard fight that will never be settled by bullies. Instead, we need to think about how to accept our own greatness without insisting that others must be diminished.
Thanks for Being,
rth