Preface
At the end of the 20th century, I was born in a certain place on the planet called Earth. Like most people, I have no memory of that exact moment. However, I do possess memories of the time before I was born—or at least, what seem to be such memories.
Before birth, I existed within a profound darkness. I was not alone; there were at least four others, or rather, four voices. Two were the youthful voices of those who seemed to be my elder brothers, and the other two belonged to those who appeared to be my parents. These four voices did not belong to my current family, but were my family within that darkness. The darkness shrouded everything, and I could only perceive them by listening to their voices.
At some point, I began to yearn to become light, or at least to go where light existed. My brothers immediately mocked me. They told me that as dwellers of the dark, it was impossible for us to go to a place of light, and that wishing to become light itself was utter nonsense. My father, while initially showing reluctance, suggested that my wish might not be entirely impossible. Since I was the youngest in that darkness, he said I might have the potential to go there, though he warned it would involve considerable pain.
I insisted that I still wanted to go. I harbored a deep doubt as to why we had to remain in the dark and put that question directly to my father. He told me it was our duty, and that light exists only because there is darkness. His voice sounded somewhat angry. At that moment, I felt a sense of self-loathing.
I was not merely in the darkness; I was the darkness itself. Upon hearing my father’s answer, I felt despair, yet my longing for the light only grew stronger. I thought that if there were a fluidity where darkness could become light and light could become darkness, the world would be much freer. I told my father that I wanted to become light, no matter how much suffering it required.
My father told me that if I possessed such resolve, I could go. I asked him where and how I could go to become light. He told me to become a human. He explained that humans have the potential for such fluidity. He instructed me to be born on Earth around the year 2000 AD, a time of great transition in the human world. I asked what would be happening at that time and place. My father answered with a single word: “War.” When I asked what war was, he said it was members of the same species killing one another.
When I asked why such a thing happens and how he knew of it, my brothers began to laugh. “Do you not understand what the darkness is for, or even what you are?” they spat at me with contempt. I turned toward my father’s voice, and he remarked that it was perhaps too early to have such a conversation with me. I declared, “I will go, and I will stop the war.” My brothers spoke with voices full of laughter yet laced with rage: “One of the roles of darkness is destruction. Why would we, the carriers of destruction, try to stop it?”
I retorted, “Where in the darkness is there destruction? The darkness hides everything; perhaps one cannot even see destruction within it. Is it not only when illuminated by light that destruction becomes visible?” The laughter faded from my brothers’ voices, and they told me that I had said something forbidden. Their voices seemed tinged with fear. My father told me, “We shroud everything, and that includes destruction. We swallow all and return it to nothingness. That, too, is a form of destruction.”
I felt as though I understood my father’s intent. “So, by stopping the war, I am to transform from darkness into light?” I asked. My father, his voice suddenly urgent and sharp, joined my brothers in a thunderous rebuke: “How could that be the case? What on earth are you thinking?”
Suddenly, my mother, who had been silent until then, told us all to stop. Her voice was usually thin and faint, but this time it was clear and loud. She told my father and brothers that they should not oppose me so directly since I was still young. To me, she simply said, “Know your place.” I could not help but feel her voice was somewhat cold.
My father said to my mother, “No, this child still has potential. I have decided to send him to Earth around the year 2000.” The others fell silent, perhaps out of surprise. I asked if I could be born ten years earlier. I thought that by doing so, I might be able to stop the war. My father, sounding both angry and exasperated, said, “It seems impossible to reason with you. Very well, it may fluctuate slightly, but I will arrange for you to be born around 1990.” It seemed my wish had been granted. But my relief was short-lived as my father added, “Even so, the war will happen. In fact, it is already beginning at this very moment.”
I was stunned. “Why? If that is so, please send me to Earth immediately,” I pleaded. My father replied, “Even if you were born now, what could a newborn baby possibly do? Either way, you cannot stop the war. Even being born ten years before 2000 won’t change much. What can a ten-year-old child achieve?”
While pondering this, I asked my father, “Then, would it be possible to destroy the causes of the war to coincide with my birth?” My brothers were deeply shaken and gasped in surprise. My father simply replied, “I have decided to send you. However, it is not to stop the war, nor to become light. It is for your education.” I thought I heard my mother whisper in her usual faint voice, “Stop…” My brothers muttered, half in exasperation and half in pity, “It’s impossible for him.”
This concludes my memories from before I was born. I believe I recalled these memories as a human when I was about four years old. By then, the Second World War had long ended, and the collapse of the Soviet Union and the Gulf War had already taken place. My earliest memory as a human is likely from when I was two years old: the memory of dropping an ice cream my father bought me onto the asphalt road.
Humans on Earth
This is a single planet known as Earth. The Earth is broadly divided into two domains: a vast realm filled with an abundance of water called the sea, and several regions consisting primarily of soil and rock called the land. At a distance from the Earth lies a gargantuan, incandescent star called the Sun, around which the Earth orbits. Beside the Earth orbits a small, arid celestial body called the Moon; when viewed from a region of the Earth where sunlight does not reach, it appears to glow in the darkness by reflecting the light of the Sun.
This planet is inhabited by an incredibly diverse array of living organisms. Among them, the most prominent are the creatures known as humans. Humans move primarily by using two legs—rod-like appendages that are the longest parts of their bodies. Their means of mobility are not limited to their legs; they create and utilize various instruments external to themselves. Not restricted to transportation, humans seek means and methods outside of their own being to fulfill their objectives. While humans are not the only ones on this planet with this trait, they possess a far greater variety of different means for various purposes compared to other living things.
I, too, was born as one of these humans on a piece of land called an island, situated in the narrow space between the planet’s largest ocean and its largest continent. This island is a place called Japan, a nation. A nation is a collective of humans governed by an institution known as a government. The method of this governance is called politics, which primarily involves coordinating the interests of each individual living within the country. Like other organisms, it is essential for humans to ingest energy required for life activities from outside themselves; thus, securing energy and obtaining the ability to secure it constitutes their “interest.”
To secure energy, humans employ many different means. These methods are broadly categorized into agriculture and hunting in a direct sense, but most humans do not use these direct methods, instead securing energy through indirect means. These indirect methods involve the use of currency: rectangular pieces of paper and thin, circular pieces of metal. These are considered valuable within human collectives and can be exchanged for various forms of energy, as well as things other than energy.
Humans develop and produce a truly diverse range of items. These span from necessities for maintaining life, such as food, to mere ornaments like snow globes. I once received a snow globe as a present. A present is a gift given by one human to another as a token of friendship, and I remember feeling a sense of joy upon receiving it. Humans are interesting creatures. A snow globe is merely an ornament where flakes flutter within water filling a transparent container, yet simply watching it brings a feeling of delight. As for currency, while it is nothing more than rectangular paper and circular metal, the shared recognition of its value allows it to be exchanged for a vast multitude of things.
All of this illustrates how humans seek, create, and utilize means and methods outside of themselves to achieve their goals. Unlike “us,” who have no physical form, humans possess distinct physical bodies. To have a body inevitably means that the “outside” and “inside” of oneself are divided, and to maintain that body, the external world becomes a necessity. The fact that one feels joy watching flakes dance in a snow globe, or that one can secure energy through rectangular paper and circular metal, is proof of this fundamental need for the world outside oneself.
Oscillation and Existence
To form a human as a physical being, language is required in addition to the body. Language is one of the essential elements that shape a human. While the specific methods vary strictly between individuals, I will introduce the most common method here: conversation through the act of speech. Speaking involves using the mouth—a part of the human body—to vibrate the air and transmit those vibrations to the ears of another. Conversation is the repetitive cycle of receiving vibrations created by another’s speech through the ears and returning a vocal response based on the “patterns” found within those oscillations.
The ears can capture not only the vibrations produced by speech but also various external oscillations. Humans shape the boundaries between themselves and the outside world by perceiving these vibrations through their ears and the skin that covers their bodies. To be formed as a human, one must receive many vibrations from those who were formed before them; these vibrations consist of numerous distinct patterns.
Language is one of these diverse patterns, established through air vibrations that hold a specific form. Language is also represented through the use of characters or letters, which is the method used to record this very text. Humans use their eyes to see these strings of characters and handle language by identifying certain patterns within them. The eyes are the bodily organs that allow one to see the “outside” as the “outside.”
Through the eyes, humans see the external world; through the ears and skin, they gain the vibrations emitted from it. In this process, the internal and external aspects of a human are pulled apart and divided.
This is best illustrated by the example of a newborn baby. A baby cries when it receives vibrations such as sounds or impacts from its surroundings, yet it often calms down when it is rocked. This soothing effect occurs because being rocked allows the infant to feel a sense of unity with the external vibrations, thereby mitigating them. A baby crying from external vibrations is undergoing the process of having its internal and external worlds torn asunder; it cries from that very pain.
This indicates that what separates the internal from the external is oscillation. Whether a vibration belongs to oneself or not determines the division between the inside and the outside. Whether one is “oscillating” or “being oscillated” further separates the self from the exterior, often with pain. The cradle—a rocking basket for an infant—serves to alleviate that pain.
The primary question here is how humans distinguish between “oscillating” and “being oscillated.” Put simply, humans make this distinction based on whether they perceive the oscillation as a constant state. If it is felt constantly, it is recognized as a vibration originating from within; if it is not constant, it is perceived as coming from the outside. This is evident in the fact that humans do not normally perceive the thumping of their own hearts; when they do, they attribute it to external factors such as nervousness or medical conditions like palpitations.
Humans claim to consist of a body and a spirit or heart (mind). When they point to where the “heart” resides, they place their hand over their physical heart. The heart is the part of the human body that produces the strongest oscillations.
On Earth, there are countless things—both animate and inanimate—that produce vibrations. While various organisms have different bodily structures, each generates its own vibrations, thereby forming its shape as a living being. In the inanimate world, light and sound are the primary sources of oscillation; both possess the form of “waves,” which are vibrations themselves.
Oscillation is an act of repeated displacement of position centered around a reference point. These repeated displacements are regular. The existence of regular displacement implies the existence of irregular displacement; the difference between the two divides space. This division creates differences in form and position within space, enabling directional displacement.
Such displacement is also either irregular or regular, and oscillation is a repetitive act with regular displacement. Divisions caused by such repetitive acts can be layered hierarchically; the more layers there are, the more internal homeostasis is generated in terms of maintaining those oscillations. The act of division and the repetitive act of regular oscillation produce complex life activities when layered multi-dimensionally; fewer layers result in inanimate matter.
This shows that the existence of both biological and non-biological entities is established through the act of division. This is not necessarily synonymous with the claim that the act of division creates existence. For instance, while I, as a human, was certainly born into this world through division, this does not explain whether the ancestors of humanity were born through the same act. It replaces the question of whether the act of division or the repetitive act of oscillation came first—a question that is impossible for us to answer.
That existence is established through division means that we exist by division. As beings existing in this manner, we have an internal and an external self; to maintain our existence, we require the existence of the “outside.” The answer to the question “What is it to exist?” describes a state of being, but it does not answer “What is existence itself?” If the question “What is existence itself?” assumes that existence is self-contained and absolute, then it is an unanswerable question in our world, where we do not exist in such a way.
Ultimately, we cannot provide an answer to this question. Nevertheless, we and our ancestors have accumulated experiences of “death”—which could be called the completion of existence. For “us,” who exist without an apparent end, this is a relative completion within a long spectrum. By accumulating such relative completions, perhaps we who possess bodies can draw closer to the answer of what existence is.
Now, let us ask: What is existence? Furthermore, let us replace the word “existence” with “human.” What is a human?
One might answer, “A human is [X].” Here, the answer for [X] is not limited to one. One could say “A human is a biological entity of the genus Homo” or, as Pascal said, “Man is a thinking reed.” When answering “What is a human?”, saying “It is a human” is not an answer; it only raises the question of why such a query was made in the first place.
The question “What is a human?” seeks an explanation. As long as an explanation is sought, it requires a subject (“human”) and a predicate that provides the description.
Many descriptions can fit this predicate, and those mentioned above are but a few. The fact that multiple descriptions apply does not mean the human existence contains multiple definitions, but rather that human existence is fundamentally relative.
A human is a biological entity of the genus Homo and a thinking reed. Conversely, a biological entity of the genus Homo is a human, and a thinking reed is a human. Since humans are the only biological entities of the genus Homo, it seems like a perfect explanation or an exact synonym.
However, saying a human is a biological entity of the genus Homo implies that other biological entities exist that do not belong to that genus. This shows that explaining human existence requires the presence of “others” who are not human. The same can be said for any [X] in the question “What is [X]?”.
Even answering “A human is a human” is the same. This answer only exists in response to the question. Without the question “What is a human?”, simply stating “It is a human” would only cause confusion as to what is being referred to. “It is a human” only becomes an answer when it stands in relation to the question.
All existence is relative. This means that existence is not self-contained. If the question “What is existence?” assumes self-containment, then the answer cannot exist without the presence of others. While the relativity of all existence does not derive an answer to “What is existence itself?”, it does not make it impossible to ask how existence is, what it means to exist, and to derive answers regarding its state of being.
Movement and the Other
Every existence is established through the act of division and the repetitive act of regular displacement known as oscillation. These acts shape the internal and external boundaries of an existence, which maintain a mutually complementary relationship in their shared role of sustaining regular displacement.
Regular displacement refers to a change in position that can be defined around a certain reference point, forming a specific “pattern.” A pattern is defined as reaching the same starting and ending points through multiple different processes. Regular displacement is distinguished, on the other hand, by the existence of irregular displacement. Irregular displacement is both a deviation from regular patterns and the very thing that allows those patterns to be identified. Irregular displacement is, quite simply, “movement.”
Regular displacement creates relationships within that displacement. A relationship is the act of centering oneself around a reference point within the changing positions defined by that point. When regular displacements containing such relationships are layered hierarchically, they coalesce to give rise to life activities.
We exist by forming internal homeostasis, primarily by maintaining regular displacements within ourselves. To sustain that existence, we require “others” who are similarly established through regular displacement. At the same time, our relationship with the other involves irregular displacement—or movement. In other words, the “other” is that which contains irregular displacement, or is that movement itself.
This can also be considered through how humans judge whether they are “oscillating” or “being oscillated,” as mentioned in the previous chapter. Humans do not normally perceive the vibrations of their own hearts; when they do, they seek the cause externally, attributing it to nervousness or pathological factors like palpitations.
In short, when a movement occurs that differs from our usual oscillations, we identify an external factor—the “other.” When we feel our heart by placing a hand on our chest, it is because of the act of placing the hand. This implies that the actions of our own self also include the “other,” which can be rephrased as an act based on “will.”
Will is that which generates irregular displacement or movement—or that which is contained within irregular displacement—hidden within us who exist through regular displacement.
It can be considered that we, as humans, express our individuality and are given meaning in our existence through how we handle this movement. It can be said that every existence is distinguished or divided by its manner of handling this movement.
Regular and Irregular Displacement
Every existence is a mixture of regular and irregular displacement. In particular, the more multi-dimensionally regular displacements coalesce, the more an existence is established as such. Within this process, irregular displacement is necessary to tune or harmonize regularity as regularity.
Purely regular displacement is light. This is because light only becomes “light” when there is a point of consequence or arrival. Conversely, purely irregular displacement, having no such point of consequence, can be called darkness. In this sense, the universe is considered the closest thing to pure darkness among all existences. All entities in the universe, including those on Earth, are established through regular displacement and are tuned by the universe, which is largely occupied by irregular displacement.
Why does regular displacement require tuning by irregular displacement? This is because the trajectory traced by regular displacement covers a narrower range than that of irregular displacement, which directly affects the sustainability of the self that exists through such regularity. A narrow trajectory means a smaller range of contact with the “other,” thereby reducing the potential for the self—which exists relatively to the other—to persist.
Among all beings on Earth, humans are the ones who harbor the greatest degree of irregular displacement. This is particularly due to actions driven by the strong human “will.” Will is embodied through action; for a self existing among others who represent irregular displacement, these actions allow the self to exist as a distinct entity.
By finding regularity within various irregular displacements, the self tunes that regularity. This involves cutting through the trajectory of irregular displacement at arbitrary points to find a point of consequence. By discovering a trajectory from one point to another, a new “pattern” is created within the irregular displacement, and as these discovered patterns overlap, they become regular displacement. In this manner, the number of irregular displacements handled by humans is the highest on this planet.
In today’s modern human society, it has become increasingly difficult for irregular displacement to be tolerated at various levels. This is linked to the Industrial Revolution of the eighteenth century, after which mechanization and the division of labor were encouraged to improve productivity across various vocational fields. Mechanization and the division of labor are incompatible with irregular displacement; rather, they are synonymous with forcing a standardized regularity upon our lives.
This does not merely impose regularity on our daily routines; it leads to a uniform demand for how we handle others, requiring us to deal with them through fixed regularity. However, the “other” inherently harbors irregular displacement. Being forced to seek regularity when interacting with such others renders the contact sterile and is destroying the reciprocal relationship between self and other.
The self, existing through regular displacement, relates to the world through irregular displacement, thereby maintaining its own regular patterns. Regular displacement must be tuned by irregular displacement, and standardized regularity destroys this fundamental mode of relationship.
The introduction of standardized regularity at various levels was not solely due to the pursuit of productivity. Because of its nature, regular displacement makes it easier to predict future shifts. This means that, in terms of managing displacement, it is far easier for those who drive today’s capitalist economy—particularly capitalists—than relying on irregular displacement.
I specify “capitalists” not because the benefit lies solely with them, but because a self existing through regular displacement relies on the external “other,” and it is easier to depend on that other when they are bound within the confines of regularity.
Pattern and Agreement
The “other,” who exists through irregular displacement, is indispensable for the self—which exists through regular displacement—to maintain its own existence. By confronting such an other, the self tunes its own regularity. This tuning involves cutting through the trajectory of irregular displacement at arbitrary points to find a point of consequence. By discovering a trajectory from one point to another, a new “pattern” is created within the irregular displacement; when these created patterns overlap, they are regarded as regular displacement. Regular displacement is a change in position that can be defined around a specific reference point.
The overlapping of discovered patterns is, in itself, an independent existence. To be an independent existence means to be countable, which is to say, divided. While divided existences or patterns are independent in their countability, all existence is relative. This implies that even a discovered pattern is in a relationship with “something,” and the pattern gains meaning only when agreement can be reached regarding this relationship. For the one who identifies an overlapping pattern, it automatically signifies “something,” and obtaining agreement on this allows for communication with the other. Agreement is forged by the one who identifies these overlapping patterns.
What drives this agreement is the self’s effort to maintain its own regularity. Every existence is established through relationship, while simultaneously repeating the cycle of reaching or failing to reach agreement in the process of sustaining its respective regularity. Through this repetition, irregular displacement either branches into regular displacement possessing a pattern, or it does not.
A representative example of patterned, regular displacement that characterizes humans is language. Language is expressed through sounds (vibrations of air) and characters; it is a medium—a means for reaching agreement. Obtaining agreement is not merely about cutting irregular displacement at an arbitrary point to find a pattern. What makes agreement possible is the “symbol” that represents that pattern. By introducing a third-party medium—a symbol—agreement is reached when the one identifying the pattern and the other party use that symbol to refer to the same “something.”
In the human world, the methods for reaching agreement are diverse. For instance, Kanji, which originated in China (a neighbor of Japan), is said to have begun with cracking turtle shells and using the resulting patterns to divine omens for weather or harvest. This can be considered one process by which symbols for forming agreement were created. If a certain crack pattern appeared on a turtle shell and it rained frequently on the days that pattern was made, that pattern came to signify “rain.”
In Western countries far to the west of Japan, astrology was similarly used to divine omens. Astrology interprets omens based on patterns perceived in the starry sky. If heavy rain coincided with the identification of a specific celestial pattern, agreement could be reached that the period when that pattern appeared would be a rainy one.
Of course, one cannot say these were the very first methods by which humans achieved agreement, but natural phenomena such as the weather and the movement of stars certainly make it easy to find a degree of regularity. It can be considered that, in this way, humans gradually expanded their methods for reaching agreement.
Time and Meaning
All existence is relative. The self, which exists through regular displacement, seeks to maintain its own regularity while relating to the “other,” who represents irregular displacement. In this process, the self discovers regular patterns within that irregular displacement. These discovered patterns gain meaning and reach agreement through the use of mediums such as sound or characters. “Agreement” refers to the state where a discovered pattern and the “something” it signifies are deemed to correspond through a medium. To be deemed as corresponding means that the discovered pattern and that “something” share the same timing or occasion.
For instance, in the example from the previous chapter, the timing of rainfall was divined through patterns in the starry sky. This implies a temporal relationship between the celestial patterns and the rain. As stated in Chapter 3, a relationship is the act of centering oneself around a reference point within the changing positions defined by that point. In a temporal relationship, the reference point is the observer of both the celestial patterns and the rain. For that observer, the relationship means the event of rain follows the event of the pattern appearing in the sky. Time, for the observer, is the change in the movement of events, arising from the relativity of those events.
An “event” is the “other” to the self that exists through regular displacement; it is an irregular displacement that can disrupt the self’s regularity. While the self’s regularity is disturbed, it requires a counter-function or “tuning” to prevent its collapse. Through this tuning, the self maintains its regularity by identifying a “pattern” within the other (the irregular displacement). This pattern gains meaning through agreement, allowing the self to perceive the irregular displacement as an event. In terms of semantic relationships, the reference point is again the observer; through the medium, the discovered pattern signifies “something” to that observer.
This illustrates that time uses the observer as a reference point to relate to meaning—time changes through meaning, and meaning changes through time. This observer is the self that exists via regular displacement. To be “observable” means there is a point of consequence and an overlap. While overlap requires agreement, it does not mean two identical things exist simultaneously. For example, I, the writer of this text, and you, the reader, are observable to someone. However, this does not mean that two of “me” or two of “you” exist at the exact same moment.
To be observable means that the observed object points to “something” for the observer. A pattern for which a point of consequence has been found points to “something” through agreement. The “overlap” occurs not in the discovered pattern itself, but in the fact that it points toward that same “something.”
Provisional Absolutism
In today’s modern human society, time has become almost entirely standardized. While various methods of measuring time, such as lunar and solar calendars, were used in antiquity, it is no exaggeration to say that the solar calendar has become nearly universal in the modern era. As discussed in Chapter 4, this is linked to the industrial revolution of the 18th century, which encouraged mechanization and the division of labor in pursuit of increased productivity across various vocational fields.
On the other hand, the fact that all existence is relative suggests that for us to exist as individuals, we must possess a form of “provisional absolutism.” In a world of relative existence, any form of absolutism is, by definition, provisional.
To be “provisional” means to make a decision for the time being and to maintain that decision as long as necessary. While it is maintained, and for as long as it lasts, it can be called “absolute.” This leads us to the question of how and for how long a provisional decision should be sustained—a question that ultimately asks: “What is the nature of a provisional decision?”
A provisional decision is one made temporarily. “Temporarily” lasts until the point where the decision needs to be changed, which implies that the decision inherently harbors the possibility of alteration from the very beginning. To change a decision also means to affect those who depend upon it.
While the potential for change is inherent, the potential not to change is equally present. Although the merits of changing a decision are questioned daily, in today’s modern society, this process is often either passive or dominant. This means that considerations for changing a decision are heavily dependent on one’s relationship with the external “other.” If done passively, the self is swallowed by the other; if done dominantly, the self swallows the other. This, perhaps, represents the current state of our modern society.
What, then, does it mean to actively consider a decision or its alteration? For us, who exist relatively, what is required to maintain that relative existence as an individual human being? This may be the very question we are being called to answer.
Universality in Relativism
The arguments I have presented in this text are known in the human world as relativism. Traditionally, relativism has been viewed as a perspective that could negate universal values such as morals and ethics. I, however, believe the opposite: it is precisely because there are universalities—or “universal patterns”—that things can be relativized in the first place.
Every existence is relative. To exist relatively means that the self requires the “other.” For instance, in existing relatively, different human groups possess distinct languages and rules. These languages and rules, along with currency, hold universal value, each possessing its own specific pattern. These are universal patterns of language, law, and commerce. Without such universal patterns, relativity could not exist; there would be nothing but a chaotic scattering of miscellaneous elements. To exist relatively does not mean that “anything goes”; rather, it fundamentally requires a universal pattern.
Those things relativized under a universal pattern inevitably develop “deviations” (gaps) over time. This deviation is what we call diversity. For a relative existence, the deviation of diversity is a double-edged sword. Without it, existence itself is impossible; yet, if the deviation becomes too great, relating to one another becomes difficult.
One way to resolve this deviation is to “re-relativize” it. To be deemed as relating means that a discovered pattern and its “something” are connected while sharing the same timing. As stated in Chapter 3, a relationship is the act of centering oneself around a reference point within the positional changes defined by that point. To relativize requires not just two parties, but a reference point that allows those two to be relativized. Re-relativizing, therefore, necessitates not only the relationship formed by a pattern and its “something” sharing the same timing but also a re-evaluation of the reference point that enables that relationship. Re-evaluating the reference point means re-evaluating the relationship itself. This re-evaluation is considered based on what kind of relationship one aims to achieve. The fastest, easiest, and perhaps most radical method to re-evaluate a reference point is to bring in something entirely new from the outside. This is particularly effective when relative relationships are unclear.
In the human world, relative relationships are often ambiguous. In previous chapters, I have used the example of three entities—two parties and the reference point that enables their relationship—to illustrate relativity. This is a simplified model, carved out from a world where everything is relative. Though simplified, such a extraction is necessary as a minimum unit to demonstrate relative relationships. The reference point is often a third-party human observer or a mediator.
However, the reference point does not necessarily have to be a human. If all existence is relative, and humans exist relatively, there can be reference points that establish the relative relationships necessary for human existence. Tools created by humans are one such example.
For instance, in hunting, humans created tools like spears and bows. These tools establish the relative relationship between the human as predator and the animal as prey. In modern times, email is used as a means of communication, creating a relative relationship between sender and receiver. Thus, the tools humans create enable the relativization of existences, such as human-versus-animal or human-versus-human. This illustrates how humans seek means and methods outside themselves to maintain their existence, creating and utilizing them.
The “outside” refers to the “other” who exists through irregular displacement. As stated in Chapter 5, this is indispensable for the self (which exists through regular displacement) to maintain its existence. By relating to such an “other,” the self tunes its own regularity. This tuning involves cutting through the trajectory of irregular displacement at arbitrary points to find a point of consequence.
The question I wish to raise here is how a universal pattern arises. If the self exists through regular displacement while maintaining its existence by relating to—and tuning—irregular displacement, how does that pattern emerge?
The existence of a universal pattern means that a certain pattern is overlapping in some way. In Chapter 5, I noted that when discovered patterns overlap, the pattern itself becomes an independent existence. To be an independent existence means to be countable, and thus, divided. A single independent existence cannot occupy two or more identical locations at the same time. Being independent means being countable; if two or more existences were established in the exact same place at the same time, they would be uncountable, and thus, not independent.
All existence is relative. If a discovered pattern is uncountable, it means that the pattern is in a relationship with “something,” and agreement has been reached regarding that relationship. Reaching agreement means it is shared that the pattern “indicates” that something. This does not mean the pattern itself lacks independence. It is uncountable—and shared—in the sense that it indicates that specific “something.”
This suggests that it is not a matter of how universal patterns arise, but rather that patterns are inherently universal, and “deviation” arises from the act of indicating that “something.” This follows from the relativity of time and meaning discussed in Chapter 6.
Universality and Relative Existence
In Chapter 8, I stated that patterns are inherently universal, and that “deviation” arises from the act of indicating “something.” This deviation is what constitutes diversity. Universal patterns such as language, rules, and currency exist, and diversity is born when deviations occur in the “something” they signify.
All existence is relative. A discovered pattern stands in a relationship with the “something” it indicates. If a deviation occurs in the indicated “something,” the discovered pattern also changes. Patterns shared by many humans—such as language, rules, and currency—evolve over time. This might seem to contradict the idea that patterns are universal.
As previously discussed, to be deemed as relating means that a discovered pattern and its “something” are connected while sharing the same timing. A relationship is the act of centering oneself around a reference point within the positional changes defined by that point.
When a pattern is identified, it is universal in the sense that it exists at that specific reference point; if the reference point changes, it becomes a different pattern. For example, patterns like language, rules, and currency establish relative human relationships. In language, it is the relationship between the speaker and the listener; in rules, between the follower and the enforcer. However, the pattern of currency does not relativize a single relationship. Currency establishes two sets of relationships: between the issuer and the user, and between the payer and the receiver. For humans existing relatively, patterns like rules and currency are highly troublesome. Power concentrates in the enforcer of rules and the issuer of currency, creating an asymmetry in the relationships these patterns establish. This asymmetry is problematic for all relative existences. The enforcer exists only through the follower, and the issuer exists only through the user, yet this asymmetry particularly threatens the existence of the follower and the user.
In the previous chapter, I mentioned that one way to resolve deviation is to “re-relativize” it. Re-relativizing necessitates not only a review of the relationship formed by a pattern and its “something” sharing the same timing but also a review of the reference point that enables that relationship. I noted that the fastest, easiest, and most radical method to re-evaluate a reference point is to bring in something entirely new from the outside. The reason this is a “radical” method is that in the human world, it manifests in the form of war.
However, war in the human world does not lead to a re-evaluation of the reference point. Instead, it attempts to use violence to change the subjects of the relationship established by that reference point. For humans existing relatively, this is something that must never be allowed to happen.
Fact and Diversity
In Chapters 8 and 9, I discussed universality within the framework of relativism that I propose. This universality exists at the “reference point” that establishes relationships between beings when a pattern is identified in each existence. A discovered pattern requires an agreement that the “something” it indicates is related by sharing the same timing.
This agreement is indispensable for human communication. Without some form of common understanding between humans, communication is impossible. The more common understandings they share, the more humans form groups with others who hold those same perceptions. The common understandings necessary for group formation differ from one collective to another; these differences arise from the fact that each group is formed in a different “position.” This variation, too, gives rise to diversity.
Common understanding refers to the agreement that a pattern found in irregular displacement and the “something” it indicates are related by sharing the same timing. A relationship, as defined, is the act of centering oneself around a reference point within the changes of position defined by that point. The fact that groups are formed in different positions means that the place—or location—where this series of processes occurs is different.
This illustrates why differences arise in the common understandings between human groups. It is also the reason why relativism, as known in the human world, has been criticized for potentially negating universal values such as morals and ethics, suggesting that “facts” themselves may differ depending on one’s standpoint.
This criticism seems partially accurate. However, the claim that all existence is relative naturally implies that there is a relative existence even to this very point of contention. In fact, the very possibility of such a debate serves as a degree of counter-evidence. The capacity for debate signifies that there is a common understanding between different standpoints, allowing for communication within those positions.
Why, then, do people require facts and universal values in the first place? In Chapter 4, I mentioned that for a self existing through regular displacement to depend on an external “other,” it is easier to rely on that other if they are bound within the confines of regularity.
As relative beings, humans live by depending on or engaging with one another. For humans living in mutual involvement, if the common understanding between themselves and those they engage with were to shift too easily, various obstacles would arise in daily life. For example, when attempting to go somewhere at an appointed time or holding a meeting at a specific place, it would be impossible to coordinate without the universality of “time” or the “fact” of the promise or rule.
This demonstrates that facts and universal values are sought precisely because individuals existing relatively must maintain relationships with one another.
Of course, in the human world, the universal values debated within relativism contain significant political elements. While politics primarily refers to coordinating the interests of individuals within a nation, when universal values in relativism involve political elements, it refers to international politics between different nations. This chapter concludes here without further elaboration on that matter.
Sensation and Perception
When humans acquire information from the outside world, they employ the means known as the five senses. These consist of sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell, each functioning through organs with distinct mechanisms. What these organs have in common is that every one of them captures external oscillations. An oscillation is a repetitive act of positional change centered around a reference point; it is a regular displacement. The “other”—the external world of irregular displacement—is formed by the resonance of many different regular displacements. The function of the five senses is to obtain external information by reading these regular displacements from within the chaos of irregular displacement.
In addition to the five senses, humans possess a faculty called perception. The five senses are also referred to as “sensation,” a function distinguished from perception. Perception does not merely receive external information; it has the function of generating new information based on the data received.
This is why perception is distinguished from sensation. Sensation is the direct acquisition of regular displacements selected from the “other” (the irregular displacement). In contrast, perception is the function of deriving new displacements based on those obtained through sensation. Sensation acts more directly upon the external other, while perception functions more indirectly.
Another difference between sensation and perception lies in the involvement of the “will.” Sensation operates regardless of the presence or absence of will, whereas perception requires its active involvement. Will is that which generates irregular displacement or movement—or that which is contained within irregular displacement—hidden within us who exist through regular displacement. Compared to sensation, perception is an active effort to engage with the other, arising when the self “tunes” itself in relation to the other.
The will also functions in two ways: it is either under the control of the self or it is not. Through the function of sensation, the self constantly receives various oscillations from the other, independent of the will. At the same time, the self requires tuning with the other. Oscillations obtained through the five senses under the command of the will can similarly be tuned under the will. However, oscillations obtained without the will are difficult to tune in the same manner, as they fall outside the self’s control.
In such cases, a form of tuning occurs that is not under the control of the self—that is, not driven by the self’s conscious will. This is the operation of the “involuntary,” what humans refer to as the subconscious or the unconscious.
Afterword
What I have written here is what humans refer to as physicalism. This text is a very broad overview and may contain many inaccuracies. Furthermore, from the perspective of those who believe that humans cannot be explained by physical phenomena alone, this work may seem sterile or even repellent. Yet, it is precisely for this reason that writing it was so deeply intriguing to me; being the author of such a text felt like a role I was uniquely suited for.
Writing so centered on physical phenomena, one might ask me, “Do you not have a heart?” But I do. Not only do I have a heart, but I believe that a heart—or mind—exists within every single entity. This perspective is known as panpsychism, and it, too, may seem like an extreme line of thought.
In Chapter 2, I wrote the following:
“The act of division and the repetitive act of regular oscillation produce complex life activities when layered multi-dimensionally; fewer layers result in inanimate matter.”
What I intended to convey here was that while a “heart” exists in all things, the multi-dimensional layering of division and oscillation creates a complex heart, while fewer layers result in a simpler one. I wanted to say this, yet I could not mention it then. This was not only because I could not explain what a heart is, but also because I could not explain why a heart is born from division and oscillation.
Though I could not explain it, I was not entirely without thought on the matter. However, as my ideas included hypothetical premises, I decided to record them here in the afterword.
As I have repeated many times, oscillation is a repetitive act of positional change centered around a reference point. For example, suppose an object A at position p moves to an empty position q. Before object A moved, there was nothing at position q. When this happens, the space at position q, which was originally empty, is occupied by object A, and the position p, previously occupied by object A, becomes empty.
What is occurring here is the affirmation and negation of space at positions p and q. The space at position p, vacated by object A, is affirmed, while the space at position q, occupied by object A’s move, is negated.
This demonstrates that by being at position q, object A is at position q, is not at position p, and is nowhere other than position q. To be nowhere other than position q means it is enough simply to be at position q. Object A being at position q—that is the fundamental unit of the heart.
Now, if we assume that object A being at position q is the fundamental unit of the heart, how does object A know that it is at position q? There is no way to confirm the answer, but in my personal view, object A cannot know for itself that it is at position q. I wrote that being at position q is the fundamental unit of the heart, but that does not include the knowledge of being there. It remains strictly that object A is at position q; this fact alone is the unit.
I had hoped to continue writing, but I will draw the curtain on this text by quoting my words from Chapter 2 once more:
“All existence is relative. This means that existence is not self-contained. If the question ‘What is existence?’ assumes self-containment, then the answer cannot exist without the presence of others. While the relativity of all existence does not derive an answer to ‘What is existence itself?’, it does not make it impossible to ask how existence is, what it means to exist, and to derive answers regarding its state of being.”
The End
