The Monistic Idealism of A.

Goswami: A
Theosophical Appraisal

David Pratt

Contents

Materialism and idealism

Worlds without end
Manifest and transcendent realms
Ether and nonlocality
Wave-function collapse
Anthropocentrism
The causal interpretation of quantum physics
Causality, creativity, and free will
Mind and brain
The paranormal
Reincarnation
Divinity
Ethics
References

Materialism and idealism

In his book The Self-Aware Universe: How consciousness creates the material world [1],
physicist Amit Goswami sets out to develop a new paradigm, 'a unifying worldview that
will integrate mind and spirit into science' (p. 1). He argues against material (or
scientific) realism, the philosophy which holds that material reality is the only reality, that
all things are made of matter (and its correlates, energy and fields), and that
consciousness is an epiphenomenon of matter. Instead, he advocates 'monistic
idealism', the philosophy that defines consciousness as the primary reality, the ground
of all being, and regards the objects of empirical reality as epiphenomena of
consciousness. Although Goswami believes that everything is a modified form of
consciousness, he maintains that physical matter is dead and unconscious.

The theosophical tradition – a synthesis of science, religion, and philosophy – proposes

that universal nature is essentially a unity, and that consciousness, life, and substance
are therefore fundamentally one. It teaches an 'objective idealism': all finite, manifested
beings and things are temporary manifestations of the ultimate reality of consciousness-
life-substance. The physical world is relatively 'real' for those living in it, but is an illusion
(mâyâ) when contrasted with the unlimited and ineffable reality of which it is part. There
is no such thing as dead, unconscious matter; physical matter is a crystallized, sleeping
form of consciousness-life-substance, and more complex physical forms do not create
life but merely allow a greater degree of inner vitality to be expressed through the
physical form.

Materialist science has found it extremely difficult to define where the boundary between
living and 'nonliving' matter lies. If we regard anything that is subject to change and
exchanges matter and energy with its surroundings as alive, then all natural systems
are alive for none are absolutely unchanging. Even 'elementary' and supposedly
'structureless' subatomic particles may be just as complex in their own terms as a planet
or sun, their complexity being obscured by the fact that they are so minuscule and live
at such fantastic speeds in comparison with ourselves.

Worlds without end

All the main contemporary cosmological models – big bang, quasi-steady state, and
plasma cosmology – are inadequate, for they are all materialistic and leave out of
account the subtler influences acting from inner realms, which in occult philosophy are
said to play a crucial role in forming and organizing the physical world. Goswami
appears to favour the big bang hypothesis (pp. 140, 142), but does not say whether he
thinks the universe is finite or infinite, or what he thinks of the wild claim that space itself
popped into being at the moment of the big bang.

Theosophy recognizes no absolute limits to space or time: space is boundless,

beginningless, and deathless. The infinitude of space comprises an infinite number of
finite world-systems, which continually come into being, evolve, die, rest, and reembody.
These systems range from the infinitely small to the infinitely large, including subatomic
particles, planets, stars, galaxies, and metagalaxies. This standpoint is clearly
incompatible with the idea of space itself popping into existence out of nothing,
expanding and contracting, or of space curving round upon itself (in three dimensions)
to form a finite, closed universe with no boundaries or edges. And it implies that matter
is both infinitely divisible and infinitely aggregative: there can be no fundamental
subatomic particles in the sense of absolutely structureless, indivisible points of energy.

A central teaching of theosophic philosophy is that nature is infinite not just 'horizontally'
– i.e. on our physical level – but also 'vertically': the infinite continuum of consciousness-
life-substance manifests in infinitely varying degrees of substantiality and spirituality,
and each 'octave' in this spectrum of vibration constitutes a plane of matter-
consciousness. Our physical plane is therefore no more than a cross-section through
infinitude, and is interpenetrated by countless other worlds, both denser and subtler
than our own, but beyond our range of perception. These worlds are not abstractions,
but actual worlds, as 'material' for their respective inhabitants as our own world is for us.
Thus, the earth and all the living entities forming part of it and evolving upon it do not
just exchange matter and energy with their physical surroundings; there is also an
internal circulation of energy-substances between the different levels of their
constitution.
Manifest and transcendent realms
The existence of inner worlds of energy-substance, interpenetrating and interacting with
the physical world, is rejected by Goswami, who believes that our physical universe is
the only form of matter to which consciousness gives rise. He says that if energy was
exchanged between the physical world and other worlds (e.g. a mental world, or the
ether), this would violate the law of the conservation of energy, which science has
'established beyond doubt' (pp. 10, 51, 151).

Orthodox quantum physics allows energy to be borrowed from the 'quantum vacuum'
provided it is paid back after a fraction of a second. However, over the past hundred
years or so, a number of physicists, engineers, and inventors, have built 'free-energy'
devices that produce more energy than required to run them, by tapping on a larger
scale the 'zero-point energy' of the vacuum – i.e. nonphysical, etheric energy [2]. In
addition, the theory that the sun is powered exclusively by thermonuclear reactions
faces serious problems, and some scientists have suggested that much of its energy
might come from subtler sources [3]. Further evidence for interchanges of energy with
deeper levels of reality is provided by paranormal phenomena. Theosophically, the law
of the conservation of matter-energy applies to infinite nature as a whole but not
necessarily to any particular plane within it.

In Goswami's model of monistic idealism there are only two worlds: the world of
manifestation – the ordinary, immanent world of spacetime, matter, and motion; and the
transcendent realm beyond physical spacetime, containing the 'probability waves' of
quantum physics. Goswami does not say whether he believes the transcendent realm
has always existed or whether it originated at a particular moment in the past. Nor is it
clear whether the physical universe itself is supposed to have been born in a 'big bang',
since according to Goswami there was no physical universe until selfconscious beings
evolved in the transcendent realm and 'collapsed' the universe's wave function (p. 141).

Moreover, the 'probability waves' that the transcendent realm contains appear to be
nothing but mathematical abstractions, but if this realm has no substantial nature
whatsoever, it is pure nothingness and cannot influence, or give rise to, the physical
world. In so far as the transcendent domain is closely linked with quantum physics, it
corresponds to the lower etheric and astral realms, though the latter interact with the
physical world energetically, while Goswami rules out any such exchange between the
physical world and his transcendent realm, saying that they interact only by means of
'choice and recognition' (p. 172).

Ether and nonlocality

The existence of an ether – an all-pervading medium composed of a subtler kind of
matter – has been taught by mystic philosophers throughout the ages. In the 19th
century, scientists generally accepted the existence of an ether, through which
lightwaves propagated, forces were transmitted, and out of which matter was made.
However, in the early part of the 20th century, the ether was officially abolished by
science, and replaced with the fiction of 'empty space'. Goswami dismisses the ether as
'obsolete' (p. 139).
The ether, however, is far from dead. A series of ether-drift experiments have been
carried out in the course of this century that are consistent with its existence, and a
number of scientists continue to work on ether theories [4]. Materialists regard matter as
patterns of energy organized by fields. But whereas electric, magnetic, and gravitational
fields used to be understood as currents of ether, the modern theory offers only a
mathematical description, and has no satisfactory explanation of what they are or how
they can act at a distance. Modern quantum physics predicts that the vacuum of space
is teeming with normally undetectable 'zero-point' energy, in the form of electromagnetic
radiation fields (the zero-point field) and short-lived 'virtual' particles (the 'Dirac sea').
This 'quantum vacuum' is similar in some respects to the ether. The concept of a
'quantum ether' is also associated with the causal interpretation of quantum physics
developed by David Bohm, Basil Hiley, Jean-Pierre Vigier, John Bell, and others (see
below) [5].

'EPR' experiments – largely made possible by the theoretical groundwork of David

Bohm and John Bell – have reportedly demonstrated that two quantum systems (e.g.
polarized photons) that have previously interacted show 'nonlocal' correlations, i.e.
correlations that cannot be explained in terms of signals travelling through physical
spacetime at or slower than the speed of light. Goswami states: 'One way to resolve the
EPR paradox is by postulating that there is an ether behind the space-time scene where
faster-than-light (superluminal) signals are allowed. This resolution would also mean
giving up locality and materialism and so is unacceptable to most physicists.' (p. 120)
Goswami rejects this explanation on the grounds that 'superluminal signals would make
possible time travel to the past'. Needless to say, there is no empirical evidence
whatsoever for the theoretical dogma that anything that travels faster than light would
travel backwards in time.

Goswami's alternative explanation of EPR is derived from his interpretation of quantum

physics (see below). He writes:

it is your observation that collapses the wave function of one of the two
correlated photons in the experiment, forcing it to take on a certain
polarization. The wave function of the correlated partner photon also
collapses immediately. A consciousness that can collapse the wave function
of a photon at a distance instantly must itself be nonlocal, or transcendent.
Thus instead of nonlocality being a property mediated by superluminal
signals, the idealist posits nonlocality to be an essential aspect of the
collapse of the wave function of the correlated system – and so a trait of
consciousness. (pp. 120-1)

Goswami is saying that our consciousness brings about an event at one place, and that
simultaneously a correlated event occurs elsewhere without any causal influences
travelling between them; the two correlated events are 'synchronicities', or meaningful,
acausal coincidences (p. 128). But saying that an event at one place 'just happens' to
be correlated with an event elsewhere in a meaningful way hardly constitutes an
explanation. For Goswami, then, 'nonlocality' means 'signal-less, instantaneous action
at a distance' (p. 61), whereas theosophically it would involve superluminal signalling
through the ether. 'Superluminal' does not mean absolutely instantaneous (i.e. infinitely
fast), as no quantities can become infinite (a mathematical abstraction) in the real world.
Wave-function collapse
Goswami's theory of monistic idealism is based on a particular interpretation of quantum
physics, especially of the 'measurement problem', an interpretation which he says is
'logical, coherent, and satisfying' (p. 11). In quantum physics the state of a quantum
system is described by the Schrödinger wave function, which gives the probability of
finding the system concerned in any particular region of space. If this wave function is
taken to be a literal description of the state of a quantum system, it would mean that
although, when a measurement is made, a particle is found at only one place, in
between measurements its 'wave packet' spreads out, so that it dissolves into a
'superposition of probability waves' and is present at several places simultaneously.

In the famous 'Schrödinger's cat' paradox, a cat is placed in a box with a device
containing a radioactive atom, which has a certain probability of decaying with a certain
period of time. If it decays it triggers a hammer which breaks a bottle of poison, killing
the cat. If we suppose that there is a 50% chance of this happening within an hour, then
during this period the cat is supposedly neither alive nor dead but in some sense both.
But when we open the box, our observation is supposed to instantly 'collapse' the cat's
wave function, turning a multifaceted potentiality into a single actuality, so that we find
the cat either alive or dead.

It is worth remembering that Schrödinger put forward his paradox to illustrate the
absurdities to which the standard interpretation of quantum physics leads. But these
absurdities are taken as literal truths in the standard, Copenhagen interpretation of
quantum physics, developed by Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg, and others in the
1920s and 30s. According to Goswami, the paradox of a cat being both dead and alive
is not particularly disturbing to an idealist philosopher! He advises us to suspend our
disbelief and remember Robert Oppenheimer's remark that 'science is uncommon
sense' (p. 87). This points to the significant changes that have taken place in certain
fields of science since the 19th century, when Thomas Huxley defined science as
'organized common sense'.

According to the uncertainty principle, it is impossible to measure complementary

quantities such as the position and momentum of a quantum object simultaneously with
complete accuracy. This is because an act of measurement involves the exchange of at
least one photon of energy, which disturbs the object being measured. However, the
Copenhagen interpretation goes further and says that it is meaningless, in the absence
of observation, to say that a subatomic particle possesses a definite position,
momentum, or any other property, or that it follows a definite path.

As Heisenberg put it: 'The path of the electron comes into existence only when we
observe it' (p. 39). He also said that atomic reality could be found only in the
mathematics; while measurements and laboratory observations are real, 'the atoms or
the elementary particles are not as real; they form a world of potentialities or
possibilities rather than one of things or facts'. Pascual Jordan stated that in a
measurement, 'the electron is forced to a decision. We compel it to assume a definite
position; previously it was, in general, neither here nor there, it had not yet made its
decision for a definite position. . . . We ourselves produce the results of measurement.'
Bohr, too, was uncompromising: 'There is no quantum world. There is only an abstract
quantum mechanical description.'[6]
According to this view, which Goswami finds 'revolutionary' (p. 140), the quantum world
does not have an independent reality apart from our acts of observation and
measurement, and different experiments force it to give different, complementary, and
paradoxical answers. Bohr once said: 'Those who are not shocked when they first come
across quantum theory cannot possibly have understood it.' What he should have said
was: 'Those who are not shocked when they first come across the Copenhagen
interpretation of quantum theory cannot possibly have understood it'! Einstein, Planck,
Schrödinger, and other scientific thinkers refused to accept that the Copenhagen
interpretation was the last word on quantum reality.

Goswami takes the Copenhagen interpretation a step further, in the same direction as
E.P. Wigner, by proposing that it is human consciousness which collapses the wave
function. Thus, in the Schrödinger's cat experiment, 'the consciousness of the observing
subject choose[s] one facet from the multifaceted dead-and-alive coherent
superposition of the cat and thus seal[s] its fate' (p. 107). Goswami stresses that he is
not arguing here for psychokinesis: the 'choice' is not made by our personal ego but by
a single, universal subject – transcendent, unitive consciousness. He states that a
measurement is complete only when 'a self-referential observation' has taken place, i.e.
'when the transcendent consciousness collapses the wave function by means of an
immanent brain-mind looking on with awareness' (pp. 97, 99).

Before the 'coherent superpositions' of a quantum system are collapsed by human

consciousness, they are said to be real but to exist in the transcendent domain beyond
material reality; they are brought into immanence only when a conscious mind, by the
process of observation, chooses one of the many facets of the coherent superposition.
In what sense these superpositions or probabilities can be said to exist is not clear; in
fact Goswami also calls them 'abstractions' (p. 81), implying that they exist only on
paper – and the idea of 'collapsing' abstractions into real particles is rather absurd.

The hypothesis of wave-function collapse by conscious observers raises a number of

questions. First of all, does 'observation' refer solely to the sense of sight or do our other
senses – taste, touch, smell, and hearing – also possess the power to collapse wave
functions? If not, how can the superiority of sight be explained? Can clairvoyant vision,
or distant viewing, also collapse wave functions? When we collapse our own bodies'
wave functions, must we actually look at ourselves (assuming that it is not too dark, or
that we are not blind), or is it sufficient to be aware that we are alive? Is it in fact
possible to collapse the wave function of an object just by thinking of it?

When we look at an object we normally only see part of its surface, but apparently this
is sufficient to collapse the wave function of the whole object. If an astronaut observes
our earth from space, does this automatically collapse the wave functions of everything
living on it? And where exactly does the boundary between the earth and its
surroundings lie? The rocky earth is surrounded by an atmosphere, which merges into
the interstellar medium. In fact, if everything is constantly exchanging matter and energy
with its environment, and is directly correlated with everything else, would not an
observation by a single selfconscious observer collapse the wave function(s) of
everything in the universe?

If everything is a modified form of consciousness, it would seem logical to suppose that

everything is conscious to some degree (though Goswami rejects this), and it may seem
that all entities, including atoms and subatomic particles, would be able to collapse their
own wave functions (assuming for a moment that this notion is more than just a
mathematical fiction), and that they would therefore be able to maintain themselves in a
state of objective reality without the intervention of human consciousness. It seems very
strange that even a cat needs humans to tell it whether it is dead or alive! Goswami,
however, insists that the awareness of a human brain-mind is an essential ingredient in
the collapse of wave functions by transcendent consciousness. Yet it would seem that a
physical brain-mind is not absolutely necessary, since before the emergence of a
physical brain-mind, Goswami believes that selfconscious beings evolved as potentia in
the transcendent realm and that as soon as this happened these potentia somehow
managed to collapse themselves and the rest of their branch of reality into the material
world (p. 141).

Anthropocentrism

Goswami gives further examples of the weird world of monistic idealism:

Whenever we look at the moon, for example, we find the moon where we
expect it along its classically calculated trajectory. Naturally we project that
the moon is always there in space-time, even when we are not looking.
Quantum physics says no. When we are not looking, the moon's possibility
wave spreads, albeit by a minuscule amount. When we look, the wave
collapses instantly; thus the wave could not be in space-time. It makes more
sense to adopt an idealist metaphysic assumption: There is no object in
space-time without a conscious subject looking at it. (pp. 59-60)

Did the universe exist before the evolution of conscious observers with the power of
collapsing wave functions? Goswami replies that until then the cosmos never appeared
in concrete form and never stays fixed in form even now: 'the universe exists as
formless potentia in myriad possible branches in the transcendent domain and becomes
manifest only when observed by conscious beings' (p. 141). He says that there is only a
very low probability of life evolving from prebiotic matter through beneficial mutations
leading to us humans, and offers the following solution:

Once we recognize that biological mutation (which includes the mutation of

prebiotic molecules) is a quantum event, we realize that the universe
bifurcates in every such event in the transcendent domain, becoming many
branches, until in one of the branches there is a sentient being that can look
with awareness and complete a quantum measurement. At this point the
causal pathway leading to that sentient being collapses into space-time
reality. John Wheeler calls this kind of scenario the closure of the meaning
circuit by 'observer-participancy.' Meaning arises in the universe when
sentient beings observe it, choosing causal pathways from among the
myriad transcendent possibilities. If this sounds as if we are re-establishing
an anthropocentric view of the universe, so be it. The time and context for a
strong anthropic principle has come – the idea that 'observers are necessary
to bring the universe into being.' . . . We are the center of the universe
because we are its meaning. (p. 141)

All this is a far cry from the theosophic worldview, in which the evolution of intelligent,
selfconscious beings, while a necessary stage of evolution, is not required to give the
material world objective reality or meaning. The physical world is quite capable of
existing and evolving in the absence of human observers. It seems more reasonable to
suppose that as everything is part of the ultimate reality of consciousness-life-
substance, everything gives actuality and meaning to everything else; everything is
connected with everything else and participates in the existence of everything else. If
'consciousness' gives rise to 'matter', it does so not through perception and
measurement but through emanation, differentiation, and densification.

The hypothesis of wave-function collapse is based on a particular interpretation of

quantum mathematics, and Goswami does not suggest any ways in which it could be
verified or falsified experimentally. David Bohm states that wave-function collapse is one
of the most serious problems in the conventional (Copenhagen) approach to quantum
physics:

According to the Schrödinger equation, this wave function can change only
in a smooth and continuous way. However, the results of any quantum
mechanical measurement make sense only if it is assumed that the wave
function 'collapses' in a sudden and discontinuous fashion. Since this
collapse is not covered by the Schrödinger equation, and indeed appears to
violate it, an additional assumption or some other interpretation is required to
explain this 'collapse of the wave function.' [7]

In Bohm's approach, the notion of wave-function collapse is dispensed with altogether.

As Goswami points out: 'We cannot connect quantum physics with experimental data
without using some schema of interpretation, and interpretation depends on the
philosophy we bring to bear on the data' (p. 9). But neither the experimental results of
quantum physics nor idealist philosophy as such compel us to believe that the existence
of the material world depends on measuring apparatus or human observation; this is an
interpretation which we may accept or reject according to our intuition and metaphysical
taste. The outcome of an experiment does of course depend on the experimental setup,
and since we are free to choose this ourselves, in that sense we affect the result. But
our conscious observation does not significantly affect the outcome of an experiment,
except, of course, in the case of genuine psychokinesis. Some people may find it
exciting that quantum physics can be used to support the theory that human
selfconsciousness gives reality to the material world, while such a theory may strike
others – materialists and idealists alike – as far-fetched and absurd.

Goswami says that although matter is not unreal, the reality of matter is secondary to
that of consciousness. He rejects 'strong objectivity' – the view that there is an objective,
independent material universe outside of us, even when we are not observing it – and
argues for 'weak objectivity' – the view that objects are not independent of the observer
but that they are nevertheless the same irrespective of who the observer is, and that
since our observation collapses the wave packets of quantum objects to localized
particles, subjects and objects are inextricably interblended.

According to theosophy, the material world is mâyâ, an illusion, not in the sense that it is
a figment of our imagination or created by our own individual minds, but in the sense
that the objects it contains are finite, transitory, and apparently separate; we do not see
the material world for what it really is – a temporary projection of the universal mind, of
which our own selfconscious minds are fragments. The material world is therefore
relatively objective, a collective, relatively real 'illusion'. It is relatively independent of us
in that even if there were no human beings to observe it, it would go on existing in the
same orderly way, but it is not absolutely independent of us since we are in constant
interaction with it and indeed part of it.

Although Goswami insists that his brand of idealism is monistic, it seems to incorporate
a distinct dualism. Unitary consciousness, the ground of all being, gives rise to two very
different realms: the manifest world of physical spacetime, and the transcendent realm,
which is not just beyond physical spacetime, but supposedly beyond all conceptions of
space and time. Communication in the manifest world involves signals travelling at finite
speeds up to and including the speed of light, while in the transcendent realm
communication is instantaneous (infinitely fast). The manifest world is a world of matter-
energy, while the transcendent realm apparently is not; it is a realm of 'probabilities' and
'coherent superpositions' – described as both 'real' and yet 'abstractions' – which are
capable of somehow being 'collapsed' into manifest existence by the human brain-mind
without any exchange of energy between the two realms.

Theosophy, on the other hand, is truly monistic: there is nothing but infinite
consciousness-life-substance, of infinitely varied grades, manifesting in infinitely varied
forms on every conceivable scale, and the principle of analogy – as above, so below –
means that there are no fundamental dichotomies between one world and another. In
short, there is unity in diversity.

The causal interpretation of quantum physics

Diametrically opposed to the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics, and

Goswami's monistic-idealist extension of it, is the causal (or ontological) interpretation of
quantum physics developed by David Bohm and his colleagues.[8]

John Bell writes: 'conventional formulations of quantum theory, and of quantum field
theory in particular, are unprofessionally vague and ambiguous. Professional theoretical
physicists ought to be able to do better. Bohm has shown us a way.' He says that the
1952 papers in which Bohm first presented his alternative interpretation were 'a
revelation' for him, especially in the way they eliminated indeterminism and the need for
a vague division of the world into 'system' on the one hand, and 'apparatus' or 'observer'
on the other. He adds: 'I have always felt since that people who have not grasped the
ideas of those papers (and unfortunately they remain the majority) are handicapped in
any discussion of the meaning of quantum mechanics.'[9]

The causal interpretation of quantum physics rejects the assumption that the uncertainty
principle means that absolute indeterminism and lawlessness prevail at the quantum
level; and it also rejects the assumption that the wave function provides a complete
description of individual systems and thereby avoids the necessity of introducing the ill-
defined notion of 'wave-function collapse'. Instead it posits causal particle trajectories in
space and time, determined not only by conventional physical forces but also by a
subtler force, the quantum potential, which operates from a deeper, implicate level of
reality and provides 'nonlocal' connections between quantum systems.
The causal interpretation gives the lie to Goswami's insistence that an electron can be
in two places at once and that 'the message of quantum mathematics . . . is
unambiguous on this point' (p. ix). A similar claim is that quantum mathematics insists
that Schrödinger's cat can be half alive and half dead and 'however bizarre its
consequences, we must take this mathematics seriously because the same
mathematics gives us the marvels of transistors and lasers' (p. 79). It is disingenuous to
suggest that quantum mathematics can be interpreted in one way only. There is no
proof that an electron, for example, can be in more than one place at the same time,
just as there is no proof that a cat is simultaneously alive and dead when no one is
looking at it. The causal interpretation offers a simple and intelligible explanation of the
two-slit experiment, for example, in which electrons at times behave like particles and at
other times seem to split in two and act like waves. The alternative to assuming that an
electron can be in two places at once is to assume the existence of subtler levels of
reality. Common sense would seem to favour the latter, but this will not endear it to
many physicists who have convinced themselves that it is quantum reality that is bizarre
and illogical rather than their own inadequate theories!

Another 'paradox' to which Goswami refers is the 'quantum jump': a quantum object can
supposedly disappear at one place and simultaneously appear elsewhere without
passing through the intervening space. However, the quantum jump poses a paradox
only if we assume that a quantum object disappears into nothingness and reemerges
from nothingness. There is nothing paradoxical about quantum objects dissolving into
and recrystallizing from an etheric medium. Bohm argues that the apparently stable and
solid objects and entities we see around us are generated and sustained by a ceaseless
process of enfoldment and unfoldment, with subatomic particles constantly being
introjected into the implicate order and then reprojected. (Note that this process is not
described by the Schrödinger equation, as this would imply that particles manifest
physically only when we humans decide to make a measurement!) Bohm states that
successive localized manifestations of, say, an electron will approximate a continuous
track if they are very close together, but that they need not be. 'In principle,
discontinuities may be allowed in the manifest tracks and these may provide the basis
of an explanation of how . . . an electron can go from one state to another without
passing through states in between.'[10]

In Bohm's view, all the separate objects and entities in the visible or explicate world
around us are relatively autonomous, stable, and temporary 'subtotalities' derived from
a deeper, implicate order of unbroken wholeness. The quantum potential corresponds to
the implicate order. But Bohm suggests that the quantum potential is itself organized
and guided by a superquantum potential, representing a second implicate order, or
superimplicate order. He proposes that there may be an infinite series, and perhaps
hierarchies, of implicate (or generative) orders. Higher implicate orders help to organize
the lower ones, which in turn influence the higher.[11]

While rejecting the idea that human consciousness is required to 'collapse' wave
functions and give objective reality to the material world, Bohm recognizes that
consciousness and life are not simply by-products of matter but are enfolded in the
indefinable depths of the generative order and are therefore present in varying degrees
of unfoldment in all matter, including 'inanimate' matter such as electrons or plasmas.
He suggests that there is a 'protointelligence' in matter, so that new evolutionary
developments do not emerge in a random fashion but creatively as relatively integrated
wholes from subtler levels of reality.
Bohm's interpretation of quantum physics – while certainly not the last word on the
subject – shows how order can be restored to the supposedly crazy quantum world.
Bohm's views – a form of transcendental realism – can easily be interpreted in a
manner compatible with objective idealism if the hierarchies of implicate orders which
he postulates are viewed as inner worlds composed of different grades of spirit-
substance. The mystical connotations of his ideas are underlined by his remark that the
implicate domain 'could equally well be called idealism, spirit, consciousness. The
separation of the two – matter and spirit – is an abstraction. The ground is always
one.'[12]

Causality, creativity, and free will

Bohm rejects the idea that absolute indeterminism reigns at the quantum level.
Commenting on the trend in modern physics, he writes:

the conclusions concerning the need to give up the concepts of causality,

continuity of motion, and the objective reality of individual micro-objects have
been too hasty. For it is quite possible that while the quantum theory, and
with it the indeterminacy principle, are valid to a very high degree of
approximation in a certain domain, they both cease to have relevance in new
domains below that in which the current theory is applicable. Thus, the
conclusion that there is no deeper level of causally determined motion is just
a piece of circular reasoning, since it will follow only if we assume
beforehand that no such level exists. . . . What is common to both classical
physicists and modern physicists is, therefore, a tendency to assume the
absolute and final character of the general features of the most fundamental
theory that happens to be available at the time at which they are working.
[13]

To salvage causality it is necessary to postulate 'hidden variables' existing at deeper

levels of reality. Goswami opposes this idea: 'According to Bohm, what happens in
space-time is nevertheless determined by what happens in a nonlocal reality beyond
space-time. If this were the case, then our free will and creativity would ultimately be
illusions, and there would be no real meaning in the human drama.' (p. 126) This
argument is valid only if we choose to assume that the existence of deeper causal
influences altogether precludes free will – which Goswami conveniently does, but Bohm
most certainly does not; he explicitly defends the notion of free will. Once it is
recognized that deeper causal influences include our own minds, Goswami's objection
falls to the ground.

The idea of absolute indeterminism and chance, of things happening for no reason
whatsoever, uninfluenced by anything else in the universe, has no place in theosophy.
Nothing happens by 'chance' or 'accident' because nothing happens in isolation;
everything is interconnected in some way with everything else. Causality, or karma, is a
fundamental fact of nature; everything is part of an intricate web of causation. Free will
is a form of active, selfconscious self-determination, and has nothing to do with chance
– if our thoughts and choices popped into our minds haphazardly they would hardly be
manifestations of our free will.
Goswami appears to accept the existence of chance; he says that the acausal
discontinuity associated with the conscious collapse of wave functions from outside
spacetime provides the basis for free will and creativity (pp. 42, 129, 234). At the same
time, he says that wave-function collapses are not random but 'choices' (p. 174). These
acausal, unconscious, yet nonrandom choices seem rather curious, and it is not clear
why they should lead to order and creativity rather than total disorder. However,
Goswami also says that 'The creativity of the cosmos comes from the creativity of its
quantum laws, not from arbitrary lawlessness' (p. 84). But what are these mysterious,
inherently creative laws and where did they come from? Do they evolve or are they
eternally the same? Are they just free-floating abstractions? If so, how can they
influence the material world?

Rupert Sheldrake proposes that the laws of nature are more like nature's habits, which
have grown up along with the evolving universe. Theosophy agrees, but adds that these
are the habits of living entities, ranging from higher intelligences on superior planes,
which collectively constitute the universal mind, to elemental nature-forces. Just as
bodily processes such as digestion, the beating of the heart, respiration, and growth are
normally regulated by our automatic will, so the physical world is the body of higher
worlds and the regularities of nature are the instinctual effects on our plane of the wills
and energies of the entities dwelling on inner planes. The 'mind of nature' reflects the
habits built up by past events and developments (including during former planetary
embodiments), and pushes in certain evolutionary directions. This explains why, as
many scientists have remarked, the cosmos seems to exercise a bias in favour of
'constructive accidents', and why nature is 'predisposed' to evolve along certain lines.
However, the relative autonomy of each plane and the existence of free will mean that
there is always room for new creative developments.

Mind and brain

Goswami defines mind as 'the organization and functions of the brain at the macro level,
including the as-yet-uncharted quantum macrostructure' (pp. 280-1). We are
'consciousness manifesting as dual quantum-classical systems' (p. 260), and the
interaction of these two systems produces our mental states. Nonlocal consciousness is
said to collapse the brain-mind's wave function, just as it collapses the wave functions of
other quantum objects. Between collapses the state of the brain-mind exists as
potentialities of myriad possible patterns or tendencies. The collapse actualizes one of
these tendencies, but only in the presence of brain-mind awareness, and the result is a
conscious experience. Each time consciousness collapses the system's wave function,
a creative discontinuity occurs and a choice is made. But although we choose our
conscious experiences, we remain unconscious of the underlying process, and this
leads to an illusory sense of separateness, 'the identity with the separate "I" of self-
reference (rather than the "we" of unitive consciousness)' (pp. 173-5, 201).

According to Goswami, each previously experienced, learned response reinforces the

probability of the same response again, leading to the emergence of a distinct ego,
which is our 'classical self', but beyond this is our 'quantum self'. The classical
component of the brain-mind is said to make records of collapsed events, and to create
a sense of continuity, while the quantum component is said to account for the mind's
nonlocal characteristics, such as creativity, free choice, ESP, and transpersonal
experiences (pp. 162, 168). Buddhi is defined as 'the extended self-identity beyond
ego', while âtman is 'the self of the pure-awareness experience', and both are
connected with our 'quantum self' (pp. 204-5, 265).

According to Goswami's theory, then, mind is inseparably bound up with the brain,
including its quantum structure. In theosophy, on the other hand, the brain is regarded
as an instrument of the mind, and is in constant interaction with it; the mind is
associated with the inner levels of our constitution and can exist apart from the physical
body. A human being is said to consist of several interacting sheaths of consciousness:
physical body, astral model-body, desire body or animal soul, lower human soul, higher
human soul, spiritual soul (buddhi), and divine soul (âtman), the latter being an integral
part of Brahman, the cosmic divinity. The model body, animal soul, and lower human
soul are composed of astral substances and, together with the physical body, make up
the lower quaternary or human personality, while the three higher principles, or upper
triad, are composed of âkâshic substances and form the human individuality.

There are similarities between the theosophic scheme and Sheldrake's theory of
morphic fields (if the latter are interpreted as more refined states of spirit-substance).
Morphogenetic fields correspond to the model body, behavioural morphic fields to the
animal soul, and mental fields to the human soul. Sheldrake suggests that our
conscious self may be regarded either as a subjective aspect of the morphic fields that
organize the brain, or as a higher level of our being which interacts with the lower fields
and serves as the creative ground through which new fields arise. According to
Sheldrake, we are also influenced by social and cultural morphic fields, and are
contained within the overall field of Gaia. In theosophy, too, we are said to be immersed
in the thought-atmosphere of the earth's astral light and âkâsha; we attract into our
stream of consciousness those thoughts and ideas (etheric energy-forms) with which
we resonate most strongly, modify them, and throw them out again. The lower regions
of the astral light are sometimes called nature's picture gallery for they bear a record of
everything that happens on the physical plane.

Goswami asserts that the classical component of the physical brain forms and records
memories but he does not attempt to explain how; memory has proved an intractable
problem for neuroscientists. He also asserts that quantum objects have no memory at
all (p. 102). In theosophy, on the other hand, as in Sheldrake's theory, memories are not
stored in the physical brain, and every entity is surrounded and pervaded by subtler
'memory fields'.

Goswami opposes the dualistic idea of a nonmaterial mind interacting with a material
body: 'If there are such mind-body interactions, then there have to be exchanges of
energy between the two domains. In myriad experiments, we find that the energy of the
material universe by itself remains a constant (this is the law of conservation of energy).
Neither has any evidence shown that energy is lost to or gained from the mental
domain.' (p. 51) He contrasts this view with his own hypothesis: 'Before the
supervention of consciousness, the brain-mind exists as formless potentia (like any
other object) in the transcendent domain of consciousness. When nonlocal
consciousness collapses the brain-mind's wave function, it does so by choice and
recognition, not by any energetic process.' (p. 172) It would be interesting to know how
'choice and recognition' manage to 'collapse' abstract potentia into concrete forms!
In theosophy, the mind is 'nonmaterial' only in the sense that it is not composed of
physical matter. The theosophic standpoint is 'dualistic' in so far as the body and mind
are made of different substances, but is monistic in that these substances are merely
different grades of one unitary essence. It seems safe to assume that mind and brain do
in fact interact energetically, whatever arguments may be invented to the contrary.

The paranormal

According to Goswami, telepathy and other forms of ESP do not involve the transfer of
energy and information, but rather communication via nonlocal consciousness; they are
'events of synchronicity caused by quantum nonlocal collapse' (p. 132). The fact that no
local (physical) signals are involved is proved, he says, by the fact that researchers in
Russia have looked for such signals for years without finding any. This result is of
course also consistent with the theosophic view that ESP involves the transmission of
nonphysical energies and signals on the astral plane. The strength of physical forces
and signals tends to fall off rapidly with distance; gravity and electromagnetism, for
example, obey the inverse-square law. It appears that the factors involved in telepathy
do not obey the inverse-square law, but this does not necessarily mean that they are not
weakened by distance at all.

Goswami claims that it is impossible for one person to send an actual message
telepathically to another person as this would violate the causality principle. He says
that in telepathy experiments, as in EPR experiments, the meaning of the
communication only ever becomes apparent after the event, when the two sets of
results are compared. What he means is that if person A consciously sends a telepathic
message through the ether, faster than light, to person B, and B is immediately aware of
receiving it, B would actually receive the message before A even sent it! Common
sense, on the other hand, suggests that B would receive the message after A had sent
it, but simply more quickly than if it had been sent at the speed of light or a slower
speed. (Since writing his book, Goswami has modified his position and now admits that
the telepathic transfer of actual messages 'may be possible' [14].)

Goswami rejects the explanation of out-of-the-body and near-death experiences in

terms of the transmigration of the mind, and dismisses the idea of disembodied minds
or astral bodies as 'simplistic' (p. 134). Instead he suggests that such experiences are
an illusion produced by distant viewing and involve the nonlocal operation of
consciousness. In other words, the brain-mind has direct access to what is happening
elsewhere without the transmission of any signals. But while absolutely instantaneous,
signal-less, 'nonlocal' communication may sound rather grand, it is a pure abstraction
and therefore does not tell us anything about what may be happening in reality.

According to theosophy, astral bodies do exist. The astral model-body can be separated
a short distance from the physical body (severance of the cord of vitality linking the two
means death). In addition, an 'illusory' astral form (or mâyâvi-rûpa) may be created and
projected to other parts of the earth, either consciously (as in the case of an adept), or
unconsciously, and under certain circumstances it may become physically visible to
others.

Goswami does not say anything about mediumship and channelling, multiple
personality, and possession. Some researchers prefer to explain all such phenomena in
terms of the 'unconscious', both personal and collective. From a theosophic standpoint,
the 'unconscious' is certainly an important factor, and is associated with impressions
preserved in the astral light. Another possible factor is influence by astral entities, of
widely varying degrees of intelligence, especially elementals and the disintegrating
shells (kâma-rûpas) of deceased humans.

Although Goswami believes that human consciousness is required to collapse the wave
functions of quantum systems and give the material world objective existence, he
appears to reject psychokinesis – the action of mind on matter at a distance – saying
that the evidence for it is 'scanty and dubious' (p. 84). Perhaps he would also reject
poltergeist phenomena – a sort of nonselfconscious form of psychokinesis. A theory
which cannot explain the difference between ordinary perception, selfconscious
psychokinesis, and nonselfconscious psychokinesis, and perhaps even has no place for
psychokinesis, is clearly unsatisfactory. (Goswami has since altered his position and
now admits that psychokinesis 'seems to have been demonstrated' [15]. However he
neglects to show how it can be explained in terms of the nebulous concepts of 'coherent
superpositions' and 'quantum nonlocal collapse'.)

Although theosophy rejects the conceit that the material world cannot exist objectively
without human observers, there are two types of phenomena where the human mind
does act on matter: firstly, in the contact between our own minds and bodies; and
secondly, in the influence our minds can exert on other minds and physical objects at a
distance (nonphysically), as in telepathy and psychokinesis. Mind over matter may be
either intentional and selfconscious, or instinctive and nonselfconscious, i.e. it may
involve our passive will or our active (or free) will. The agencies involved in
psychokinetic phenomena include the astral body, elemental energies, and in the case
of poltergeist phenomena, possibly other astral entities as well.

Goswami does not refer to the materializing, dematerializing, and teleporting of physical
objects, and it is not clear whether they are explicable in terms of his theory. From a
theosophic standpoint, a trained adept can, by an effort of the will, disperse the atoms of
an object (except for the human body), send them along a current in the ether, and
reform the object elsewhere, or can cause an object to appear by forcing physical atoms
to aggregate around an astral form and/or by materializing astral matter so that it
becomes physically visible (which would presumably violate the conservation of energy
as normally understood).

Since Goswami does not recognize the existence of other planes of energy-substance,
the famous materialization, via the medium Florence Cook, of a complete human form,
calling itself Katie King – a phenomenon investigated, and found to be genuine, by the
prominent 19th-century scientist (and theosophist) Sir William Crookes – was
presumably not what it seemed. Unless all such materializations are to be attributed to
fraud and deception, they would probably have to be explained by Goswami as some
sort of collective illusion involving 'quantum nonlocal collapse'.

A.R. Wallace, the co-developer with Darwin of the theory of natural selection, believed
that spiritualist phenomena were worthy of serious investigation and was convinced of
the reality of 'spirit' manifestations. He stated: 'I assert that, whenever the scientific men
of any age have denied the facts of investigators on a priori grounds, they have always
been wrong.'[16]
Reincarnation

Although reincarnation is an essential tenet of western as well as eastern mysticism, in

his book Goswami curtly dismisses it: 'The ego loves itself, so much so that it wants to
be immortal. This seeking of immortality expresses itself in the West in the striving for
fame and power. In the East it has led to the idea of reincarnation of the individual soul'
(p. 252). He says that there is no individual survival after death, though consciousness,
our essence, never dies (p. 83). Since writing his book, Goswami has reversed his
opposition to reincarnation and now believes in repeated incarnations by a 'quantum
monad'. However, he still rejects the idea that we have subtler, inner souls composed of
finer grades of spirit-substance, and if the 'quantum monad' is nothing but an
abstraction, it would have great difficulty incarnating in or through a physical body!

Reincarnation is a fundamental teaching of theosophy. It is not the human personality

that reincarnates, but the individuality – the higher human soul, informed by the âtmic-
buddhic monad. Human souls cannot normally incarnate in animal bodies, though the
atoms composing our four lower vehicles are said to transmigrate through the lower
kingdoms of nature during the interval between lives.

A living organism functions as an integrated whole for as long as it is animated and held
together by inner energy fields or souls, composed of finer, nonphysical grades of
energy-substance. An organism is born with a certain store of vital energy, and after this
energy has been expended, the physical body dies and the inner entity withdraws for a
period of rest. Once the individual molecules are freed from the restraint imposed by
this coordinating force, they become more active or full of life and go their separate
ways, causing the physical body to decay. After death, the components of the human
astral personality also decay, at different rates, on their respective planes.

The reincarnating ego, on the other hand, is said to enter a dreamlike state of rest until
the time comes for it to return to earth. As it reawakens and 'redescends' towards the
material realm, it draws back to itself the same life-atoms that had formerly composed
its lower vehicles and which therefore bear the karmic impress of previous lives. Life
after life we build habits of thought, feeling, and behaviour into the different levels of our
constitution. In short, we make ourselves what we are. Reincarnation is therefore
closely related to the doctrine of karma, the doctrine that each new life is the product of
previous lives, that as we sow, we reap.

Theosophy teaches that all entities – atoms, animals, humans, planets, stars, and
universes – reembody, i.e. pass through cyclic periods of activity and rest, manifestation
and dissolution. All entities are informed by spiritual monads, sparks of universal
consciousness, which use the different forms offered by the various kingdoms of nature
for the purpose of gaining evolutionary experience. Our monads begin each grand cycle
of evolution, comprising several planetary embodiments, as unselfconscious god-sparks
in the elemental kingdoms, then pass through the mineral, plant, animal, and human
kingdoms, before entering the spiritual kingdoms and completing the cycle as
selfconscious gods. After a period of nirvanic rest, the process is repeated on other
planes, in other worlds, as part of a never-ending evolutionary adventure through the
fields of infinitude.
Divinity

For Goswami, God or Brahman is consciousness, the ground of all being. Theosophy is
pantheistic (or panentheistic): divinity (or Parabrahman) is infinite nature, universal
consciousness-life-substance, encompassing all the endless hierarchies of worlds and
planes and their inhabitants which infill and in fact compose the boundless All. Divinity is
therefore immanent and omnipresent and the root of all things, but since it is greater
than any of its individual expressions, it is also transcendent.

Infinitude comprises an infinite number of world-systems, and within any particular

hierarchy of worlds, all the entities that have passed beyond the human stage may be
termed spiritual beings, or 'gods', meaning beings who are relatively perfected with
respect to the hierarchy in question. The most advanced beings in any system of worlds
may collectively be regarded as divinity (or Brahman) for that hierarchy. But this is not
God in the traditional sense, for there is no god so high that there is none higher.

Ethics

Goswami's monistic idealism, like theosophy, teaches that we are all part of one all-
encompassing consciousness and that separateness is an illusion, and advocates the
same noble and inspiring ethics as all the great religious and mystical traditions – the
ethics of responsibility, compassion, forgiveness, altruism, service, and universal
brotherhood. Goswami says that the path of spiritual self-transformation leads us from
the ego level of fragmentation, through buddhi to âtman, the level of cosmic
consciousness, where we regain the 'enchanted state of wholeness'. He quotes the
words of the poet, Rabindranath Tagore (p. 268):

I slept and dreamt that life was joy.

I awoke and saw that life was service.
I acted and behold, service was joy.

References

1. Amit Goswami, with R.E. Reed & M. Goswami, The Self-Aware Universe: How
consciousness creates the material world, Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam Books,
1993.
2. See Jeane Manning, The Coming Energy Revolution: The search for free energy,
Avery, 1996; Serge K. King, Earth Energies, Quest, 1992.
3. New Scientist, 9 Sept. 1995, p. 50; New Scientist, 16 Dec. 1995, p. 17; Paul
LaViolette, Beyond the Big Bang: Ancient myth and the science of continuous
creation, Park Street Press, 1995, pp. 296-307.
4. See e.g.: Paul LaViolette, Beyond the Big Bang; Harold Aspden,
www.energyscience.co.uk; Elektromagnum, www.newphys.se/elektromagnum;
Theories of the aether, www.magna.com.au/~prfbrown/aether.html; Bahram
 Katirai, Revolution in Physics, Noor Publishing Co., 1993; R. Schaffranke, Ether-
Technology, Cadake Industries, 1977; Eric J. Lerner, The Big Bang Never
Happened, Vintage Books, 1992, pp. 369-72; C.F. Krafft, The Ether and its
Vortices (1955), BSRF reprint, 1987.
5. See P.C.W. Davies & J.R. Brown (eds.), The Ghost in the Atom, Cambridge
University Press, 1993 (1986), pp. 49-50 (J. Bell), 142 (B. Hiley); B.J. Hiley & F.
David Peat (eds.), Quantum Implications: Essays in honour of David Bohm,
Routledge, 1991 (1987), pp. 169-204 (J.-P. Vigier et al.) & pp. 295-311 (P.R.
Holland & C. Philippidis).
6. F. David Peat, Einstein's Moon, Contemporary Books, 1990, pp. 63, 65.
7. David Bohm & F. David Peat, Science, Order & Creativity, Routledge, 1989
(1987), pp. 95-6.
8. D. Bohm & B.J. Hiley, The Undivided Universe: An ontological interpretation of
quantum theory, Routledge, 1993.
9. Quantum Implications, pp. 227-8.
10. David Bohm, Wholeness and the Implicate Order, Ark, 1990 (1980), p. 184.
11. Science, Order & Creativity, pp. 184, 190.
12. Renée Weber, Dialogues with Scientists and Sages: The search for unity, Arkana,
1990, p. 101.
13. David Bohm, Causality and Chance in Modern Physics, Routledge & Kegan Paul,
1984 (1957), pp. 95, 103.
14. A. Goswami, Science Within Consciousness, Institute of Noetic Sciences, 1994, p.
44.
15. Ibid., p. 10.
16. Michael Gomes, The Dawning of the Theosophical Movement, Quest, 1987, pp.
24-5.

January 1994. Revised May 1998.

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