Quantum Information and the Emergence of Space

Gravity governs the classical mechanics of the universe. It causes matter and energy to warp space, with objects following paths of least resistance through that bending and warping of space. But what if gravity isn’t fundamental, but instead emerges from some deeper meaning or process?

The holographic principle provides a framework for understanding quantum gravity, offering a potential reconciliation between quantum theory and general relativity. In such a theory, one takes a two-dimensional surface encoded with information. The information on that surface, existing in a lower-dimensional area, can describe the three-dimensional world we live in. That two-dimensional surface does not necessarily contain gravity as we experience it, but rather a collection of degrees of freedom connected to entropy.

So, if gravity is not fundamental, but emergent from some deeper meaning or process, how does it exist at all? One can only theorize.

Instead of gravity forming the structure of matter in the universe, I propose that the correlations and relationships of quantum information on some two-dimensional surface area create the structure of the visible universe.

Is it possible that the universe knew its structure before it manifested in three dimensions over time? Is the universe somehow conscious of itself, or does the human experience shape the universe? These statements are mere speculation and somewhat off topic, yet they are questions I have thought about. Nonetheless, we continue.

Within these theories of quantum gravity, could quantum information and its degrees of freedom connect through entanglement, in which quantum states become correlated and share a relationship with one another?

The tricky part is understanding how these connections behave over distance. Do they diminish, or do they extend beyond what we perceive as spatial separation?

The patterns of connectivity establish relationships across regions of space on this two-dimensional boundary. Those relationships could behave like spatial distances and connections. From those relationships, three-dimensional space could emerge, forming the universe we live in and experience.

But what does that say about the Big Bang theory?

The standard model of cosmology describes the universe as having evolved from an extremely hot, dense state of matter and radiation. But what if the early universe began as a highly concentrated quantum-information state, and the three-dimensional universe emerged as that information reorganized into a new geometric structure?

Some will ask: If the universe began as a single quantum state of immense density, why wouldn’t it collapse into itself and form a black hole rather than expand outward?

I suppose there must be a limit at which the density, energy, and organization of such a state would need to be calculated to determine what would be required to prevent collapse and promote expansion.

Nonetheless, we arrive at a crossroads. The burning question is whether information creates space or describes it.

Suppose we have two possibilities:

Model A: Space is fundamental.

Space exists independently, and quantum information describes the physical processes occurring within it.

Model B: Space is emergent.

Quantum information is more fundamental, and space arises from the organization and relationships between quantum states.

My mind draws toward the former rather than the latter.

In this framework, gravity would not necessarily be responsible for creating three-dimensional space. Instead, gravity could emerge alongside space as a consequence of the underlying quantum structure.

Although this idea sounds promising, there are many gaps in such a theory. For example, what is the information encoded in? How does it evolve, and how does its structure produce measurable geometry?

My earlier idea conceptualized three basic principles:

• A two-dimensional boundary containing quantum information.
• Entanglement establishing relationships between information states.
• Those relationships giving rise to geometry and curvature in a higher-dimensional universe.

This leaves us with one last question: Could the density and organization of quantum information determine the emergence of space, matter, and the curvature of the universe?

In the end, this idea only concerns gravity, the weakest of the four fundamental forces of nature.

How do the other forces emerge from a set of quantum information encoded on a lower-dimensional boundary? Is the Higgs field emergent or fundamental to the universe as a whole?

No one truly knows, but it is interesting to think about.

Wisdom: The Knowledge and Responsibility of Life

What is wisdom? The age-old idea of human knowledge and experience expressed through words and actions. The experienced philosopher writes and teaches the younger generations about life, offering up his life, not in a physical sense, but for the sake of human decency, striving to be better and to do better. But the question isn’t simply whether knowledge drives an individual to become wise, but how wisdom is obtained and used.

Before we can answer that, we must first dive into how people seek wisdom. There is no right or wrong answer to such a question, just simply perception. Depending on where you go in the world, knowledge and wisdom are attained in different ways, but in my opinion, there are key similarities and common themes that emerge.

First and foremost, wisdom is attained through experience. As we experience life, its ups and downs, its rights and wrongs, and its deeper meaning, we learn to reflect on such things. It is those personal and internal reflections on our decisions, actions, and words that develop a sense of wisdom from the knowledge we have attained. But the question that arises in my mind is whether self-reflection is something innate to the human experience or something taught by our elders or peers.

This brings me to the second way in which wisdom is attained: education. Whether it be self-taught, through traditional means in a school setting, or through the home and societal interactions, education seems to help develop a sense of wisdom in members of society.

From the ideas of Vygotsky, we learn through interacting with our environment. We develop lines of reasoning, and as we grow, those lines of reasoning change and grow along with us. This is the premise for how I used to teach in the classroom as an AP World History teacher, as well as an inclusion teacher working with special education students in a general education setting.

Knowledge comes from a source, but the collective helps grow the mind beyond that of the teacher and the individual. With that in mind, it appears that wisdom is attained through the collective experience of society’s teachers and those willing to take the time to instill such wisdom in future generations.

Religious texts teach us knowledge and wisdom as well. Although it is controversial, to say the least, religious texts can provide the knowledge and wisdom of our forefathers to guide us through life. Psalms teaches us three main tenets: wisdom through humility, wisdom through reflection, and how wisdom is demonstrated through the way we live. Compassion, integrity, patience, and justice are essential to wisdom and are expressions of it.

Although there are countless lines I could transcribe on this very page, I wish not to inundate the reader with religious texts, but to pass along the basic premise that religious texts can inspire the accumulation of knowledge and wisdom.

The Quran teaches us much about knowledge and wisdom as well. According to Islamic tradition, the Prophet Muhammad, who did not read or write, emphasized the importance of acquiring knowledge and wisdom in understanding life, creation, and reality. To read and recite are central to the foundations of Islam, for the pursuit of knowledge is not simply about wealth creation, but about understanding the world and all its wonders.

But interestingly enough, there is a key difference between knowledge and wisdom. You can attain all the knowledge of worldly things, yet go through life without attaining wisdom. It is a great privilege to attain wisdom, but it comes with a certain level of responsibility for those who acquire it. Therefore, knowledge without morality is a dangerous thing.

In the end, wisdom involves understanding how knowledge ought to be applied—with judgment, humility, justice, and an awareness of consequences. It is not simply what we know, but how we use what we know to shape ourselves, our relationships, and the world around us.

When Government Becomes An Investor

 Capitalism, the very economic system that has brought on great industrial capacity, technological innovation, and progress to a nation and its people over the past 250 years. I am not sure what Adam Smith would say about America today, yet I still think it is the greatest economic system to be created.

The flow of money in a capitalist system works like a well-oiled machine, but what happens when a crisis emerges? What happens when it is deemed necessary for the government to intervene economically in the present to secure a future that is self-reliant? What happens when private capitalism begins to turn into state capitalism? Does it set a precedent for future government policy for the years and decades to come?

Over the course of the past two years, the federal government and its agencies have invested large sums of money into corporations large and small. The ideology behind such investments is national defense and security for the nation as a whole. The federal government has begun using not only grants, loans, and subsidies, but also shares, warrants, profit-sharing agreements, and other equity-like interests as tools of economic policy. The Council on Foreign Relations has tracked billions of dollars in such government investments across dozens of deals since January 2025. (Council on Foreign Relations)

Although each deal is different based on shares owned or owed, warrants, loans, preferred interests, or other arrangements, the federal government has invested billions of dollars into American corporations and strategic projects. It is important to understand that these transactions do not all represent the government actually owning shares in the traditional sense. Some involve actual stock ownership, while others involve warrants, profit participation, preferred interests, or conditional agreements.

Intel, for example, is a clear case of direct government ownership. The Department of Commerce received 9.9 percent of Intel’s outstanding shares. At the time of the agreement, that stake was valued at approximately $8.9 billion. By July 15, 2026, the value of the government’s Intel shares had risen to approximately $44.6 billion. (GAO)

One may say that this is communism or socialism, but I call it state capitalism, a middle ground between complete private ownership of the means of production and that of socialism or communism.

State capitalism does not necessarily eliminate private ownership. Instead, the government becomes a participant in the capitalist system. Private companies continue to operate, investors continue to buy and sell shares, and markets continue to determine much of the flow of capital. Yet the government itself begins to place taxpayer-backed capital into particular industries and, in some cases, becomes an equity holder.

Although it appears there are blurred lines between publicly traded companies and the federal government, the logic behind such actions is to rid the United States of foreign dependence for materials like rare earth metals and semiconductors.

The question then becomes: why these companies?

The answer appears to be rooted largely in national security and supply-chain security.

Semiconductors are critical to nearly every modern industry, including defense, communications, transportation, computing, and advanced technology. The Government Accountability Office reported in August 2026 that Commerce had awarded approximately $31.7 billion across 49 semiconductor projects involving 24 companies. Commerce also began considering whether companies would provide equity in exchange for federal funding. (GAO Files)

Critical minerals create another vulnerability. Rare earth elements, lithium, gallium, and other materials are necessary for batteries, electronics, advanced manufacturing, and defense systems. The federal government therefore sees domestic production of these resources not simply as an economic matter, but as a matter of national security.

The reasoning is understandable.

If the United States becomes dependent upon another nation for the materials necessary to manufacture its computers, weapons, vehicles, energy systems, and communications equipment, what happens if that supply is interrupted?

What happens during a war?

What happens during a geopolitical crisis?

What happens when the foreign nation supplying those materials is also a strategic competitor?

This is where the free-market system encounters a problem that the market itself may not necessarily solve.

Imagine that a critical mineral can be purchased from a foreign supplier for $50 while producing the same material domestically costs $100. A private company has an obvious economic incentive to purchase the cheaper material. But the federal government may look at the same transaction and see something different.

It may see vulnerability.

The private company sees the price.

The government sees the national-security risk.

And this is where government intervention begins.

The government can provide subsidies. It can provide loans. It can become a customer. It can regulate an industry. It can guarantee purchases. It can create tax incentives. But when it begins acquiring shares, warrants, profit interests, or other financial positions in private corporations, it becomes something more than an observer of the capitalist system.

It becomes a participant.

Nonetheless, this has caused political strife across the aisle. As Trump calls Democrats socialists and Communists, his administration and its agencies have also expanded the use of federal capital and equity-like arrangements with American corporations.

Republicans can consistently argue:

“Government ownership of a few strategically important companies isn’t socialism; it’s national-security industrial policy.”

Democrats or other critics can respond:

“If government ownership of productive private enterprises is supposedly antithetical to capitalism, why is the government becoming an equity holder?”

As you can see, there are two sides to the same inherent facts.

The federal government can argue that these investments are not designed to replace capitalism, but to protect the American economy from strategic vulnerabilities. Critics can question whether the government should be selecting individual corporations to receive taxpayer-backed capital and whether those decisions create too much government influence over private enterprise.

Both questions lead us back to the same place.

Where do we go from here?

Is it a matter of national security to inject millions, and in some cases billions, of dollars into perfectly functioning companies in return for shares or interests in those companies?

Why did the government and its agencies choose those private companies?

Is it in the interest of security and defense to invest taxpayer money into corporations?

And perhaps the greatest question is not whether the government should ever intervene, but where the line should be drawn.

What happens when private capitalism turns into state capitalism?

Does it set a precedent for future government policy for the years and decades to come?

If the government makes an investment today because a semiconductor, rare earth mineral, energy technology, or defense system is considered essential to national security, what happens when another administration determines that another industry is equally important?

Who decides which companies are strategically important?

Who decides when government ownership is necessary?

Who protects the taxpayer when the investment succeeds?

And who protects the taxpayer when it fails?

Perhaps the question is not whether capitalism has failed, nor whether America has suddenly become socialist or communist. Perhaps the question is something more complicated.

What happens when the very economic system that built America’s industrial might encounters a world in which economic security and national security become inseparable?

If a semiconductor factory is essential to national defense, if rare-earth minerals are essential to advanced weapons and electronics, and if dependence upon a foreign power creates a potential vulnerability, can the government simply stand aside and allow the market to determine where those industries are located?

Or does national security require the government to become a participant in the market itself?

This is where the lines begin to blur.

The government can provide subsidies. It can provide loans. It can become a customer. It can regulate an industry. But when it begins acquiring shares, warrants, profit interests, or other financial positions in private corporations, it becomes something more than an observer of the capitalist system. It becomes a participant.

Perhaps this is state capitalism: not the abolition of private ownership, but the strategic use of government capital within a private market.

And perhaps that is the great economic question facing America in the decades ahead.

How much government participation is necessary to protect the nation without changing the very capitalist system that created the wealth, innovation, and industrial capacity the government is now trying to protect?

At what point does national security require intervention?

And perhaps most importantly, once the government crosses that line, who decides where the line is drawn?

The Sanctity of Life

As I reflect back on my past, I emerge at a time and a place—a setting that remains with me even though the face of the man I remember is no longer clear in my mind.

Before me was a middle-aged Indian man. I would frequent his store to buy things for my mother as well as for myself. Over the course of time, our frequent encounters became more than casual exchanges. They became lessons in perception, culture, and philosophy. Understanding the mindset and philosophy of another person can go a long way toward understanding the world beyond our own experience.

As time passed, he reflected on his Indian culture and shared those reflections with me as a young, white male.

I remember very vividly the ideas about life that he portrayed to me. He would say, “In my culture, life is sacred. I don’t wish to harm or take life. Even down to the very smallest of creatures—even the ant.”

Those words had a profound impact on me then, and somehow they remain with me today.

Regardless of culture, race, ethnicity, nationality, or the other categories by which modern society divides human beings, there is something fundamental that we can recognize: life is precious.

The very essence of Earth is life and the biological systems that sustain it. What would we be without life? This is the question that sometimes seems to rise from my subconscious into my conscious mind.

Sometimes I think about why man acts the way he does.

Do the selfish desires of the present cause us to disregard the consequences of the future? Do our immediate ambitions become so important that we forget the value of the life around us?

The presence and essence of life should not be denied because of the selfish desires of man.

What does that mean?

It means putting life before personal agenda. It means recognizing that our actions have consequences. It means holding one another accountable not only for what we do, but sometimes for what we fail to do.

I cannot help but think about the taking of innocent life—life that never had the opportunity to experience the wonders of existence without fear, anxiety, hunger, or violence. The establishment of law does not, by itself, guarantee the protection of life from those who seek to take it without a second thought or care for its value.

And yet life continues.

All life is interconnected. We, as human beings, are connected to the Earth and to the biological systems that sustain us. There is something resembling a life force that moves through the living world—a force that drives organisms toward existence, survival, growth, and continuation.

To me, there is something deeply sacred about that.

My thinking here is an assimilation of ideas I have encountered in both Hindu thought and Islamic teachings: the reverence for life, the interconnectedness of living things, and the moral responsibility associated with taking a life.

The Qur’an expresses this profound principle in describing the unjust taking of one life as being like the taking of the life of all humanity, while saving a life is likened to saving all humanity.

The idea resonates with something much larger than law.

Law can tell us what is permitted. Justice can tell us what is accountable. But neither necessarily explains the deeper question:

Why does life matter in the first place?

Perhaps that answer lies somewhere within the very nature of existence.

To think that law and governance can sometimes work against that life force—that inner spirit, that light that exists within us—is difficult for me to reconcile. We create systems to protect life, yet human beings can also use those same systems, or act outside of them, in ways that place life in jeopardy.

There are no friends or foes at the most fundamental level.

There are simply living beings, each experiencing existence from a different perspective, shaped by different cultures, histories, beliefs, fears, desires, and perceptions of life.

Yet I sit here and write about these things because I hope that one day we can live peacefully in our diversity. I hope we can recognize that beneath our differences is something we all share: the experience of being alive.

Perhaps the lesson that man once taught me in that small store was much greater than I understood at the time.

Life is precious.

Life is interconnected.

And perhaps life itself deserves our reverence.

Human or otherwise, every living thing occupies a place within the greater system we call Earth. Each form of life participates in the continuation of something much larger than itself.

Life has the right to exist.

And perhaps our responsibility as human beings is not merely to survive within that system, but to learn how to protect it, respect it, and live within it without unnecessarily destroying the very thing that gives existence meaning.