Loving this so far. Recommended by the guy who wrote the other book that you love - on OCD and quantum physics.
"Einstein pioneered the transition from Newtonian physics to the quantum theory of atoms and radiation, a new non-Newtonian physics. But the irony was that Einstein, who opened the route to the new quantum theory that shattered the deterministic world view, rejected the new quantum theory. He could not intellectually accept that the foundation"
Einstein's role. He shattered determinism of newton but he could not accept it. This explains why you (nina) have relied on Einstein's relativity to prove against localism
"Even when I was a fairly precocious young man the nothingness of the hopes and strivings which chases most men restlessly through life came to my consciousness with considerable vitality."
Same mate.
"The fact that observation can change what is being observed can be seen from examples drawn from ordinary life. The anthropologist who studies a small village isolated from modern life will by his mere presence alter village life. The object of his knowledge changes as a consequence of examination. The fact that people know they are being observed can alter their behavior."
THE LACANIAN BIG OTHER!
Pagels’ The Cosmic Code feels like someone cracking open the universe just enough for me to peek in, and what I see isn’t a neatly ordered cosmos but something trembling, uncertain, full of raw potential. It reminds me of Bohr’s insistence that the world at its core isn’t logical, not in the way we want it to be. Pagels doesn’t give me answers (thank God for that) but instead leaves me with a sense of awe that isn’t comforting, in fact, deeply terrifying. It destroys your ego. The kind of awe that burns, that makes me feel tiny and infinite at the same time.
I keep circling back to how Pagels describes the act of observation. That moment when reality splits, when a wave becomes a particle because we’ve looked at it. It’s like the universe itself is unstable, holding its breath, waiting for us to pay attention. There’s something profoundly unnerving about that, and something deeply familiar. It’s not far from the Kabbalistic idea of tsimtsum, where the infinite retracts itself to make space for creation. Observing, creating, breaking things down - it all feels like part of the same process. The world collapses into form only when we interact with it, but the cost of that is losing its infinite potential. The wave becomes a particle, the divine retracts into the mundane. How do you live with that trade-off? How do you not grieve it?
Pagels doesn’t dwell in the grief, though. He’s too focused on the beauty of it all, and that’s what stays with me. The way he writes about the double-slit experiment, for example. I’ve read about it a hundred times before, but the way he describes it - particles, behaving like waves, and then choosing, somehow, to become something solid - it hits differently. It’s not just an experiment; it’s a reminder that reality isn’t fixed. It’s alive, responsive, and fundamentally unknowable. I can’t think about it without feeling like my own life is less stable than I want to admit, like I’m as much wave as particle, shifting depending on who’s looking.
There’s a moment where Pagels writes about uncertainty, not as a problem to solve but as the core of everything. It’s not just physics; it’s a worldview. He says something about how the equations don’t give us reality itself, only probabilities. That thought sticks to me like a burr. If the universe is probability, then certainty is a lie we tell ourselves because we’re scared. I can’t decide if that’s freeing or terrifying.
I think about Bohr, too, and how much he’d love this book. Ahhh, my nice Jewish boy. Bohr’s whole life was about contradictions (like a true pioneer in physics) - wave and particle, life and death - not as things to resolve, but as things to ****hold***. Pagels gets that. He’s not writing about quantum mechanics to make it digestible. He’s writing to show that it’s indigestible, and that’s the POINT. There’s no stable ground here, no neat resolution, and yet it’s beautiful in its instability. I can’t stop thinking about how that reflects the rest of existence: fragile, unpredictable, always on the verge of collapsing into something new. Also, he was a nice Danish Jew, like me....
What Pagels does better than anyone is connect the equations to the human experience. He doesn’t let the physics sit in a vacuum. When he writes about the uncertainty principle, it’s not just about particles. It’s about us-our choices, our fears, the way we interact with each other. He makes me think about how much of my life I spend trying to force things into certainty, into particles, when maybe I should let them stay waves. Maybe I should be okay with not knowing, with letting things be infinite for a little longer before I collapse them into decisions.
Reading this doesn’t feel like learning. It feels like unravelling. Like Pagels is pulling threads I didn’t even know were there, showing me how tangled the fabric of reality really is. And maybe that’s what I’ve been drawn to all along. The instability, the paradoxes, the way reality is both here and not here, depending on how you look at it. It feels less like physics and more like a prayer. You're left not with "more knowledge", but somehow, significantly less, like somebody has just torn your eyeballs out your skull. Not the kind of prayer that asks for something, but the kind that just sits in the dark and listens.