Dark Matter's quantum leap and a multiverse of what-ifs

I discovered Apple TV+’s “Dark Matter” last week. I watched the whole thing in almost one sitting. Weirdly, coincidentally, Google announced its quantum leap with their Willow chip¹, the chip that uses quantum something something to do calculations faster than something something something.

Look, I’m hazy on the details, I’m no scientist that’s for sure, but we find ourselves teetering on the edge of a rabbit hole that's equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. And, it's a cosmic cocktail that's got me pondering the multiverse² of my own what-ifs, all while questioning whether this reality is even "real" to begin with.

The multiverse of regrets and ADHD

As I binge-watched Jason Dessen's journey through alternate realities, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of that all-too-familiar ache. You know the one: the "what if I'd pursued that" or "what if I hadn't royally screwed up that one time" kind of ache. It's like a greatest hits album of regrets, playing on repeat in the background of my ADHD-addled brain.

And let me tell you, having ADHD in this multiverse of possibilities is like being a kid in a sweet shop where every sweet is simultaneously the best and worst thing you've ever tasted. It's a constant nagging feeling that you're never quite enough, that somewhere out there in the vast expanse of alternate realities, there's a version of you who's got their shit together.

But here's the kicker – "Dark Matter" makes me wonder: is that "better" version of me really all it's cracked up to be? Would I even want to be that guy? Because let's face it, that Ryan probably doesn't have my impeccable taste in disco tracks or my ability to hyperfocus on writing snarky blog posts at 3am.

Simulation theory: the ultimate "what-if"?

As we watch Google flex its quantum muscles with Willow, it gives me pause. Alongside the whole multiverse brouhaha, I also half-jokingly, like many of us, claim that we live in a simulation³. So, with the entire world’s knowledge in my pocket, while I’m watching “Dark Matter” I started free-basing simulation theory. You know, because one bonkers theory is never enough, right?

I freely reject religion. It’s not for me. But, I can't help but wonder if we're all just lines of code in some computer programme. And sure, I’m a developer, I’m a designer, I’m a nerd, it goes with the territory. And yea, it’s no less bonkers than an all-seeing god. But here we are. Crosses to bear.

The idea that we might be living in a simulated reality, perhaps even a nested doll of simulations created by civilisations that "got there before us," is enough to make my head spin faster than vinyl on a turntable. Could we all just be characters in the most elaborate video game ever created, and somewhere out there, some advanced being is the reason why I’m writing this article right now?

In “The Matrix”, Agent Smith says something profound⁴, something that sticks with me as the horrors of recent global and political events play out around us:

“I believe that as a species, human beings define their reality through misery and suffering. The perfect world was a dream that your primitive cerebrum kept trying to wake up from. Which is why the Matrix was redesigned to this, the peak of your civilization.”

It doesn’t help that the 90s really was the greatest time on Earth. I’m a millennial, what can I say, but the truth is the truth.

But could there, on an infinite timeline of infinite universes, be a place where that fiction is actually fact?

The paradox of progress

Here’s how I see it: as our computing power grows exponentially, we're inching closer to creating simulations so complex they might just birth consciousness. It's a mind-bending paradox: the more we advance, the more likely it seems that we ourselves might be the product of such an advancement.

But here's where it gets really trippy: if we're in a simulation, and we create our own simulated realities, are we just adding layers to an already existing stack of simulated universes? It's like an infinite Russian nesting doll of realities, each one contained within another, ad infinitum.

And look, whether it’s god you’re into or a nest of simulated universes, the “what’s at the other end?” question still remains unanswered.

My personal theory—because I know you were dying to know—is that much like we have the concept of “null” in computer programming, right at the end of these nested realities is some kind of null where it all began. Not nothing, but the absence of anything. If it can happen in programming, then why can’t it explain the universe? And is it, that our technological evolution is just inching us closer to our discovery that computers aren’t just these tools we use everyday, but the very reason we exist at all.

I know, I know, I’m losing it. But no more so than the belief that god created the whole thing in seven days, I’d say.

The disco ball of existence

So here we are, caught between the fictional multiverse of "Dark Matter," the profound, yet fictional-ish quotes of Agent Smith, the quantum leaps of Google's Willow, and the existential crisis of potentially being lines of code in a computer programme of nested computer programmes.

It’s times like this that I’m so glad I love the dance floor. Music can ground me right now. I think maybe this weekend I’ll seek out my mates and literally get out more. Jamiroquai are releasing a new album soon, and frankly, I can’t wait.

Anyway, at the end of the day (or simulation cycle), whether we're real, simulated, or somewhere in between, we're all just trying to make the best of the reality we've got. And if there's a version of me out there who made all the "right" choices, well, I hope he's having as much fun as I am, ADHD, regrets, and all.

So, if you’re yet to watch “Dark Matter”, I implore you to do so. And, as I did, as you ponder your own what-ifs while binging it, remember this: in the grand disco ball of existence, we're all just trying to catch the light and throw it back out there in our own unique way. And who knows? Maybe in another universe, I did build the greatest creative agency the world has ever seen, or I did actually follow through and become a piano virtuoso – but I bet that Ryan can't two-step like I can in a grimy club in Kreuzberg on a Saturday night surrounded by his mates and the people he loves.

Sources