At the end of the last article, I said something that seemed simple at the time:
Maybe information sits underneath matter.
And honestly, I thought that was where the rabbit hole ended.
Instead, it feels like that was where it began.
Because the more I think about information, the more one question keeps showing up:
Information about what?
The Carrier Changes. The Information Remains.
Think about a song.
You can store it on a CD.
A hard drive.
A phone.
A server on the other side of the planet.
The thing carrying the song can change completely.
But somehow the song survives.
That’s what made information so interesting in the first place.
The carrier changes.
The information remains.
But then another thought hit me.
What if information isn’t the deepest layer either?
What if we’ve simply replaced one mystery with another?
Reality Has A Habit Of Moving The Goalposts
History follows a strange pattern.
Every time humans think they’ve found the foundation of reality...
They eventually discover another floor underneath it.
People thought the Earth was the centre of everything.
It wasn’t.
People thought matter was solid.
It wasn’t.
People thought atoms were the final layer.
They weren’t.
It’s almost as if reality enjoys moving the goalposts.
Every time we think we’ve reached the bottom...
Another trapdoor opens.
And that’s where my mind starts wandering.
What If Things Aren’t Really Things?
What if reality isn’t made of things at all?
What if “things” are simply the way reality looks from where we’re standing?
Think about a video game.
A character inside the game sees mountains.
Trees.
Buildings.
Entire civilizations.
But underneath all of that, none of those things actually exist.
The mountain isn’t a mountain.
The river isn’t a river.
They’re patterns.
Relationships.
Instructions.
Information arranged in a particular way.
Before anyone says it...
No, I’m not claiming we’re definitely living in a simulation.
I’m not saying reality is a video game.
I’m using it as a thought experiment.
Because sometimes the best way to understand something is to look at it from a completely different angle.
And the deeper I follow that angle, the stranger reality starts to look.
Maybe We’re Asking The Wrong Question
If matter isn’t fundamental...
And information isn’t fundamental...
Then what exactly are we standing on?
Maybe that’s the wrong question.
Maybe we’ve spent thousands of years asking:
“What is reality made of?”
When we should have been asking:
“What if reality isn’t made of anything?”
What if reality is closer to a process than an object?
Closer to a relationship than a thing?
Closer to a story than a machine?
I don’t know.
But I do find it strange that every time we peel back another layer, reality seems to become less physical and more abstract.
Less like a collection of objects.
More like a pattern unfolding.
The Fly Again
And that’s what keeps bringing me back to the fly.
Because the fly never knew it was inside a computer.
It woke up inside a world and assumed that world was reality.
Which is exactly what you and I did.
We woke up here.
Inside whatever this place is.
And we assumed it was reality.
Maybe we’re right.
Maybe we’re wrong.
The point is:
We don’t actually know.
The Problem Of Being Inside The System
If there really is another layer underneath this one...
How would we ever recognise it?
Fish don’t know they’re underwater.
Characters don’t know they’re inside games.
People in dreams usually don’t know they’re dreaming.
You only notice the system when you step outside it.
And that’s the one thing none of us can do.
We’re trying to understand reality from inside reality.
It’s like trying to see your own eyes without a mirror.
Maybe that’s why every answer creates another question.
Matter led to atoms.
Atoms led to particles.
Particles led to information.
And now information is leading somewhere else.
Somewhere I can’t quite see yet.
But I can feel it.
Like standing in a dark room and realizing there’s another door.
You haven’t opened it.
You don’t know where it leads.
But you know it’s there.
The Assumption Nobody Questions
Here’s another assumption I’ve been wondering about.
Why do we always assume a deeper reality would be better?
Whenever people talk about waking up...
Escaping the Matrix...
Breaking out of the simulation...
Seeing reality as it truly is...
They always imagine it’s some kind of upgrade.
More freedom.
More truth.
More understanding.
But how do we know that?
What if the next layer isn’t beautiful?
What if it’s terrifying?
What if the thing we’re calling a simulation isn’t a prison?
What if it’s shelter?
The Fish Outside The Water
Imagine a fish spending its entire life dreaming about what exists beyond the water.
Then one day it finds out.
The fish was right.
There was a bigger world outside.
The only problem is...
It couldn’t live there.
Sometimes a bigger reality isn’t a better reality.
Sometimes it’s just bigger.
And that’s what makes this idea so strange.
Everybody talks about escaping.
Almost nobody asks whether they would actually want to.
The fly inside the computer might spend its entire life dreaming about the world outside.
But what if the computer is the only reason the fly exists at all?
What if the thing we’re trying to escape is the thing keeping us alive?
Maybe Reality Is Shelter
I don’t know.
But if there really is another layer underneath this one...
I think we should at least consider the possibility that the truth might be stranger...
And a lot less comforting...
Than we expect.
Because if there really is something underneath matter...
And underneath information...
And underneath everything we’ve talked about so far...
There’s no guarantee we’re going to like what we find.
Maybe the next layer is bigger than we can understand.
Maybe it’s stranger than anything we’ve imagined.
Maybe it’s beautiful.
Maybe it’s terrifying.
Maybe the thing we’re calling reality isn’t a prison at all.
Maybe it’s shelter.
Maybe it’s the only environment consciousness can survive in.
And if that’s true...
Then escaping it might be the worst idea imaginable.
But Curiosity Doesn’t Care
Here’s the problem.
Curiosity doesn’t care.
At least mine doesn’t.
Because even if someone told me the truth was uncomfortable...
Even if they told me it would completely change the way I see reality...
Part of me would still want to know.
Not because I think the answer will be good.
Not because I think it will make me happy.
But because the question exists.
And once a question gets inside your head...
It’s very difficult to ignore it.
Maybe that’s humanity’s greatest strength.
Or maybe it’s the thing that gets us into trouble over and over again.
I honestly don’t know.
The Door
What I do know is that every layer we’ve peeled back so far has revealed another one underneath.
And right now...
It feels like we’re standing in front of another door.
The question is:
If it opened... would you walk through it?
Would you want to know what’s really underneath all of this?
Even if it changed everything?
Even if the answer wasn’t comforting?
Even if the truth turned out to be stranger than anything we’ve imagined?
I don’t know what I’d find on the other side.
But I know something else.
The moment I discovered the door existed...
I’d want to open it.
And honestly...
I think that’s the real rabbit hole.