Conscious Choice: Brian Greene on the Theory of Everything

October 2007 | Conversations

Brian Greene on the Theory of Everything

Interview by Jamie Friddle

If we could peep inside theoretical physicist Brian Greene’s head, we might discover tiny energy loops, or “strings,” smaller than the smallest subatomic particles of his brain. These strings, quite possibly the energetic building blocks of… well, everything… are mostly empty space, imbued with a probability of being this or that. And just why — and how — something is this or that, from brain cells to galaxies, is a question that haunts Brian Greene.

Professor of math and physics at New York’s Columbia University and co-director of its Institute for Strings, Cosmology and Astroparticle Physics, Greene has dedicated his career to investigating how the universe works. His focus is string theory — otherwise known as unified field theory or, immodestly, the theory of everything.

String theory posits that all particles and forces derive from the vibration of subatomic strings smaller than a trillionth of a trillionth of an atom. The Elegant Universe, Greene’s 1999 bestseller, turned him into string theory’s poster child, netting him a Pulitzer nomination and later — for the NOVA special it inspired, also narrated by Greene — an Emmy. In The Fabric of the Cosmos, his 2004 bestselling follow up, he brought the characters of space and time to center stage.

Known to dabble in the arts, Greene has consulted on dialogue for 3rd Rock From the Sun, lent cameos to films like Mimzy and guested on The Colbert Report, Late Night with Conan O’Brien and Letterman. A vegan true to his name, in person Greene is boyish, kind and mirthful, repeating his enthusiasm for his work as if for the first time, every time. We caught up with him to talk about life as a probable outcome and the intelligence of the universe.

What are some of he most provocative ideas, businesses or people on your radar right now?

[One idea] people are floating these days is that we’re but one universe of many. The more common idea is that what we call the universe — Earth, the other planets, the galaxy, the hundred billion stars in the galaxy, the hundred billion other galaxies — is all there is, the entirety of creation. But from a variety of different directions in quantum theory and in string theory and in cosmology, we’re led to a different idea: that all of this stuff is just one bubble, one pocket, one piece of a much grander cosmos that has other pockets, other bubbles, other regions, in which the inhabitants might also, for a long time, [think] that they constituted the whole universe. Now, we’re recognizing that we may have a bubble bath of universes, and we’re just one bubble.

What keeps you up at night?

Probably the most powerful thing is when I’m in the midst of trying to solve some mathematical system or set of equations. There’s something quite wondrous about being so involved in an intellectual pursuit that the mind can’t let off, just won’t let off; there’s a certain kind of enjoyment from the exhaustion that comes from that kind of an undertaking. But if you take a step back and ask, from an overarching perspective, what are the kinds of thoughts that take over my mental energies, it’s really the big questions: Where does time come from? Can you imagine a world without time? Did time come into existence with the origin of the universe, or is it something that humans have imposed upon reality in order to organize our thoughts in a more coherent manner? Those are the kinds of questions that keep me puzzling for hours and days on end.

Does your work with string theory make you more or less religious?

I think it partly depends on your exact definition of religious. If it means the traditional notion of going to services and some organized religion, then the answer is no. If it means, does it fill me with a sense of awe and wonder about the universe, does it fill me with a sense of how remarkable it is that the pieces of the universe fit together with such logical cohesion, does it fill me with this unshakable sense that there is an underlying order and harmony behind the universe, then to all of those I would say absolutely, yes. For some people, that is religion.

What is on your iPod?

I don’t have an iPod.

What reading is on your bedside table?

I don’t have a bedside table [laughs].

What are you reading?

I guess to follow the pattern I’d say I don’t read, but that wouldn’t be quite accurate. There’s a book that was recently given to me that I’ve been meaning to read, The Omnivore’s Dilemma [by Michael Pollan]. And you know, [Richard] Dawkins’s book, The God Delusion, is high up on my list. I’ll be digging into it at some point soon.

Why are you vegan?

I became vegetarian when I was nine because my mother cooked spare ribs in a manner that made the connection to meat from an animal particularly clear. So at that point I said I’m never eating meat again and proceeded to go to the refrigerator and make a salami sandwich, because, a city kid, you know, what is meat? You don’t know what meat is, really. And my parents said, “Well, that salami is meat,” at which point I just put down the sandwich and never ate meat again. But I did eat dairy for a while until I went to an animal sanctuary in Upstate New York and learned all sorts of things about the dairy industry, which, frankly, I was happy not to know. But once I did, I couldn’t go back. I’m still searching for the ultimate vegan pizza.

What’s your favorite conspiracy theory?

The most fun one is that God created the universe. But would one consider that a conspiracy? Certainly it arises from a lot of individuals collectively believing in something, which to me is wonderful because it’s a wonderful point of departure for so many ways of thinking about things. I love the fact that you’ve got individuals such as myself trying to figure out the universe using math and equations. You’ve got other people trying to figure out the origins of the universe from philosophical concerns, others that are approaching it from a theological direction. My brother is a Hare Krishna, and for years every time we’ve had a breakthrough in physics I tell him about it and he says, “Oh, yes, we know of that. It’s in Vedic text number 16,” or something like that. To me it’s always difficult to make sense of the resonances between what you find in sacred texts and what we find in science, because often times it’s a similarity of language or a similarity of perspective — but they’re really not exactly the same by any stretch of the imagination. But I do find it compelling that human thought, trying to answer the same question how the universe began, brushes up against similar concepts [as science] now and then.

What issues are most woefully ignored in public discourse?

I think the general role of science is not as appreciated as it should be. There’s still a great sense that science is what takes place in laboratories, by scientists, without a recognition of how it so fully informs almost every aspect of everyday life — from cell phones to the iPods you were mentioning to personal computers to all manner of technology, medical and otherwise. A computer chip owes its existence to quantum physics. This esoteric sounding subject developed in the 1920s and ’30s is what allows these things to exist. Moreover, what’s ignored in conversations [currently preoccupying the world] — climate changes, global pandemics, stem cells — is often the underlying science, which can really inform the conversation and help it to go down very different directions. What’s missing in the public discourse is for science to be tightly woven into the cultural tapestry, so that it’s not viewed as something separate, but something fully integrated into the way we think.

If your life had a theme song, what would it be?

“Across the Universe” [by The Beatles].

In string theory, sometimes up to 11 dimensions are theorized. What do all those other dimensions contain?

The other dimensions of the theory are not as exotic as they sound. They are really just space as we know it, just more of it than we anticipated based on everyday observations. We look around, we all see left, right, we all see back and forth, we all see up and down. The theories are claiming there are other independent directions in addition to those. And the challenge is to explain why we don’t see them as clearly as left, right, back, forth, up, down.

What would you say right now to string theory’s critics?

I think there is a lot to be critical [of] about string theory. I think a healthy attitude to all unproven science is to be skeptical. But I’d say the main thing is, we string theorists fully acknowledge — without any hesitation — that we won’t believe the theory until it can be tested by experiments. And we’re working very had to get to that end. So I think it’s premature to judge a theory, especially one that has made fantastic progress toward its goals, but is just not there yet. It takes time for science to make progress. And when that science is trying to answer the biggest of questions, it takes even more time. And that’s all there is to it.

What question do you wish our readers would ask themselves?

I think life can be grandly enriched by a perspective that takes into account all issues of direct importance to everyday life, but also steps outside and ponders and puzzles the big questions. Where did the universe come from? Will it have an end? And again, are we one universe of many, or are we all that there is? These kinds of questions — which really don’t affect how much money you make or the food you put on the table — nevertheless inform life in a way that gives a closer sense of connection with the cosmos.

Jamie Friddle is a Seattle-based writer.

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