The End of Time: The Next Revolution in Physics

A radical alternative put forward by Newton’s rival Leibniz provides my central idea. The world is to be understood, not in the dualistic terms of atoms (things of one kind) that move in the framework and container of space and time (another quite different kind of thing), but in terms of more fundamental entities that fuse space and matter into the single notion of a possible arrangement, or configuration, of the entire universe. Such configurations, which can be fabulously richly structured, are the ultimate things. There are infinitely many of them; they are all different instances of a common principle of construction; and they are all, in my view, the different instants of time. In fact, many people who have written about time have conceived of instants of time in a somewhat similar way, and have called them ‘nows’. Since I make the concept more precise and put it at the heart of my theory of time, I shall call them Nows. The world is made of Nows.

Space and time in their previous role as the stage of the world are redundant. There is no container. The world does not contain things, it is things. These things are Nows that, so to speak, hover in nothing. Newtonian physics, Einstein’s relativity and quantum mechanics will all be seen to do different things with the Nows. They arrange them in different ways. What is more, the rules that govern the universe as a whole leave imprints on what we find around us. These local imprints, which physicists take as the fundamental laws of nature, reveal few hints of their origin in a deeper scheme of things. The attempt to understand the universe as a whole by ‘stringing together’ these local imprints without a grasp of their origin must give a false picture. It will be the flat Earth writ large. My aim is to show how the local imprints can arise from a deeper reality, how a theory of time emerges from timelessness. The task is not to study time, but to show how nature creates the impression of time.

It is an ambitious task. How can a static universe appear so dynamic? How is it possible to watch the flashing colours of the kingfisher in flight and say there is no motion? If you read to the end, you will find that I do propose an answer. I make no claim that it is definitely right – choices must be made, and many physicists would not make mine. If all were clear, I should not have promised a but the theory of time. In order not to interrupt the flow of the text, I make few references to the problems in my timeless description of the world. Instead, I have collected together all those of which I am aware in the Notes. Although, as will be evident throughout the book, I do believe rather strongly in the theory I propose, there is a sense in which even clear disproof of my theory would be exciting for me. The problems of time are very deep. Clear proof that I am wrong would certainly mark a significant advance in our understanding of time. In a way, I cannot lose! Whatever the outcome, I shall be more than happy if this book gives you a novel way of thinking about time, exposes you to some of the mysteries of the universe, and encourages even one reader to embark, as I did 35 years ago, on a study of time.

For the study of time is not just that – it is the study of everything.

GETTING TO GRIPS WITH ELUSIVE TIME

The hardest thing of all is to find a black cat in a dark room,

especially if there is no cat.

Confucius

We must begin by trying to agree what time is. The problems start already, as St Augustine found. Nearly everybody would agree that time is experienced as something linear. It seems to move forward relentlessly, through instants strung out continuously on a line. We ride on an everchanging Now like passengers on a train. Each point on the line is a new instant. But is time moving forward – and if so through what – or are we moving forward through time? It is all very puzzling, and philosophers have got into interminable arguments. I shall not attempt to sort them out, since I do not think it would get us anywhere. The trouble with time is its invisibility. We shall never agree unless we can talk about something we can see and grasp.

I think it is more fruitful to try to agree on what an instant of time is like. I suggest it is like a ‘three-dimensional snapshot’. In any instant, we see objects in definite positions. Snapshots confirm our impression; artists were painting pictures that look like snapshots long before cameras were invented. This does seem to be a natural way to think about the experience of an instant. We also have evidence from the other senses. I feel an itch at the same time as seeing a moving object in a certain position. All the things I see, hear, smell and taste are knit together in a whole. ‘Knitting together’ seems to me the defining property of an instant. It gives it a unity.