Most of the meetings with other objects do not seem to touch and affect a physical body in any way. Photons, as the assumed particles of light are called, and other quantum objects are meant to bomb it all through its lifetime — without any noticeable impact. That is one reason why observation is possible: it shows the things how they are, leaving them untouched.
In this sense, observation effectively does not take place, it is not existent, so to speak. And so, because it carries no weight, it can take place all the time.
In fact, physical events, the motions of a physical body, for example, are treated as being wholly observed. That means, as having at every distinct time at a precisely distinct place a distinct velocity (and so on). Every state of that object is completely defined — may this conception be practically realizable or not. The object is the sum of its defined states or appearances, which are thought to be infinitesimal (that is: of infinitely small extent). They make up its existence.
The existence of a physical object manifests itself in its meetings — or, as it is frequently said, its interactions — with others. Through them it comes into appearance. From its effects on them, their changes induced by it, its own properties — and hence its existence — are deducible.
Some of these encounters may alterate the thing to such a degree that it does not stay the same thing. Maybe it splits into several others; or it fuses with another to form a new one; or it is absorbed by the other; maybe it even disappears completely, dissipating into some radiation or so (though this can be understood as consisting of kind of — somewhat curious — objects, too).
But normally contacts with other things do not change an object too seriously; so it does not only stay the same afterwards, but also between these contacts. At least, it is supposed to do so; strictly speaking, its existence between its interactions — and that is without them — cannot be proved and so remains vague.
In the context of the Theory of Relativity, the “space belonging to a body A” was originally named “space of reference”. Today the term “frame of reference” is more usual. But here, the cited approach shall be broadend to a general concept of space. For that purpose we pick up the idea that the so-called “body of reference” remains by definition always at rest.
This conception is now generalized so that for every thing it can be said that in its space it is never subject to any alteration and thus remains always the same.
Seen in this light, the thing is effectively not present in its space; it is perfectly passive, unable to come into appearance, and thus cannot be observed. Though all other things can, in a way that may be called “objective”, insofar as the central thing is the unmovable, so to speak “neutral” observer. All things are determined in reference to it. While the space is the reflection of these relations, representing the properties of all the other things — in reference to the focussed thing.
Previously we have already adumbrated a kind of motion which may be described as penetrating or analyzing a thing. In getting closer and closer to a thing, we probably become aware of something like an internal structure or even a regular inner life full of activity. Maybe we discover certain regularities, a plan according to which the whole is constructed, or a program controlling everything.
But the bigger we blow everything up, that is, the deeper we penetrate, the more we lose sight of the big picture. Instead, we find ourselves right in the middle of infinite space, surrounded by an endless variety of things, interacting with them.
Starting from here, we can now take the reverse direction, so to speak: we can recognize certain patterns in the buzz of activity around us, regularities, maybe even laws. Perhaps a plan becomes visible, the program and blueprint of everything. Still, in comprehending the whole as a whole, we finally understand that it is is just one among many, a thing.
At latest since the discoveries of mechanics, it is generally accepted in physics (and other sciences) that everything happens because of internal forces. The observable things embody all that causes whichever effects.
More modern developments, as for example the theory(s) of relativity, may be interpreted in a way that they abandon this view, putting the focus much more on so-called “fields” and the like. This may go so far as to consider physical objects to be nothing but special states of a kind of space.
Logically, however, this makes no principal difference to us. For whatever replaces the traditional physical things: it has to be, in the sense of X-Logic, things, no matter whether we call them “spaces”, “fields”, or likewise. Even if all material interpretations are set aside and only mathematical objects, such as “tensors”, are talked about. Yes, even the physical laws themselves are things of this type. With their respective spaces.
Every thing has its own space — although there is only one space, space, for it is endless. Everything that exists is part of it, a thing in it.
Things may sometimes be regarded as the opposite of space — since space is open and boundless, while the things are rather bounded and closed. As such they separate a region of space. And that is exactly how, after all, space is somehow bounded: by the things. Through them it can be left — and another one can be entered.
It is the space of the thing, that is entered in this way. But, once entered, the space that initially appears to be the closed interior of the thing turns out to be space itself, the endless one, the universe. Because from inside no bounds are to be recognized.
So, where do they go? — Well, quite simply: again they are incorporated in the things of (this) space; and so they are perfectly integrated, yes, they are the ultimate substance of space.
Science is not only theory but also practice; and as such it always stays close to reality and experiences. Its theoretical part, however, is permanently in danger of losing contact.
So, for example, while trying to realize the idea of one single all-embracing system constructed from few simple building blocks: sooner or later its complexity must get out of hand. Endless chains of deduction lead to no concrete results. The truth, that should be granted by them, gets lost on the way to realization. For it cannot enter the scene but from the other side, from reality, through experience.
Existence need not be justified. It appears. Beyond any reasoning and description. But, surely, not without reason and the proper circumstances. Not outside its space, as we will say.
All that is seemingly not present — though somehow active — does not exist as distinct things. It is somewhere in between, between the things. It is the space between, its substance. It is that what makes up space.
As such it is ungraspable — unless it does become something, a thing. So many things may emerge out of space. At last, space is totally made of things, nothing else. They just cannot be seen — in the moment. Maybe they are too small, too big, too far away, too close, too well-known, too strange, too many …
Still, somehow they are there, and they have some influence on those things that can be seen. So we give them a name, as a whole. Here, in this context, we call it “space”. (But we must not forget that it is what we call “knowledge”, too. And “activity”. And, of course, “thing”s.)
There is always more. No representation, no image, no model, no theory will ever be able to cover everything. This principle is basic to such a degree that it is to be called “logical”.
Accordingly, no system, of whatever few axioms and simplest rules it may be constructed, can start with absolutely nothing. Instead, it must rely on endless amounts of given things. What these are in detail can never be specified.
Every so-called emptyness must be produced and maintained; protective walls, taking isolation to the extreme, are real and have fundamental impact on all that is happening behind them — othwerwise they would not be needed.
Even the mental world does not stand totally apart, but rather all over interwoven with material life.
In the context of our explorations the notion of space plays an important role — which may differ quite a lot from that normally appearing in physics. This is probably confusing, at first. But hopefully our approach will turn out as a well founded enhancement that makes sense in the framework of physics too.
Especially the theory of relativity makes clear how problematic the conception of absolute space can be. For in order to assign to space physical reality, based on experience, it has to be defined starting with physically real objects. Taken strictly, this induces that it is not allowed to speak of a universal “space”, but only of the “space belonging to a body A”. Exactly this approach is fundamental for the concept developed here, where every thing of whatever kind has a corresponding space of its own.
The concept of thing has to be called “logical” because it is simply indispensable. Whenever we think, perceive, measure (or whatever) something, it is about something. This something we call “thing”. And it does not matter whether this means a verbal expression, for example, or a mental image, a notion, an idea, a law, or maybe a material thing. Purely logically, that makes no difference.
However, of course this does not mean that mental and physical things are equal in all respects, or that we know much about the things “a priori”, so to speak. It is always up to the physics (among others) to find out and to decide whether something really (physically) exists or not, with experience playing an important role.
But a lot of what is such a worry to physics because it does not fit into one of the familiar physical patterns, although it is verifiable, perhaps turns out to be not half as mysterious as still considered today. For it just has to be so, purely logically.
But now, how comes knowledge into the middle of the things?
In order to be deemed physically real, a thing must show a certain constancy in its appearances. This is a criterion that, though naturally used, did not become part of physical theory. For it is much too fundamental. It is rather logical. That is where it belongs, in the sphere of mental things, the sphere of knowing.
Actually we have made out this steadiness as being essential for knowledge; it is precisely that what we have used to define knowledge. Which, of course, makes sense only if it is complemented by its counterpart, the change that defines activity.
Not only is knowledge the firm ground we can rely on, resting in sameness like a rock in the rough sea of change and activity; it also manifests itself in characteristic activity. It is a bridged and grasped difference; it is captured activity, calmed down, but always potentially present.
And that is exactly how we have to imagine material things, as full of and driven by activity. But this activity is tamed and manifests itself in continual appearances of the things, in their interactions with other things. Physically these determine the things’ mass and energy, for example. These two terms correspond, in the main, to knowledge and activity, though the latter are meant to be much more general, principal, marking a logical conception.
So then, does the world need human observers in order to exist? — Well, quite apart from the fact that indeed we do not know our world without us, this question does not arise actually just because we recognize knowledge in the heart of matter. Rather, in giving a definition of knowledge, we render it independent of subjective notions, it gets an objective appearance. As such we can let it act in the physical, not needing to highlight the subjective human perspective — which we never leave, naturally. In this sense, knowledge is not less objective than any atom or so.
But, of course, objectivity does not remain unaffected by this addition (of knowledge). Ultimately it gets a human component. Which is, maybe, not so bad after all.
Although matter itself is subject to the laws of knowing, and so to logic, this does not at all mean that the real-world events could be deduced from logic alone. Not even theoretically. Because the theory of X-Logic knows neither absolutely elementary building blocks nor absolute all-embracing plans. So there is not the one system for everything; nor do closed partial systems without intervention from outside exist.
After all, exactly this knowledge can help making our systems more robust and more practicable. For, on the one hand, we no longer rely on the illusory security of absolute reasons, while, on the other hand, we avoid getting lost in endless chains of them.
At bottom, all reality is knowledge. This implies that knowing is not the subjective and more or less coincidental adaptation of the independent reality. Instead, knowledge is in the heart of every objective reality — and knowing is itself something objective.
This concept is not so new at all. Logic, for example, is long accepted to be objective, although it is rather some part of the realm of knowledge than of material reality. But not only would any kind of scientific investigation of material reality be impossible without logic, but it is also generally taken for granted that logic exists right in the middle of the things, so that these things operate according to its rules.
Viewed in this light, we do nothing but simply enhance this concept, superseding usual logic by X-Logic. Which is not restricted to truth-value operations, but explores the fundamental laws of knowing.
Physics looks at the world through the eyeglasses of physics. It cannot do more — although sometimes it seems to want more. Which, no doubt, is its right, even its duty. For ultimately it does not matter what theory says, but only what really happens. Nevertheless, to reason from this that there were something like the one objective reality beyond any such visual aid would mean to overshoot the mark. And, above all, sometime precisely this idea may mislead to give up — if not to forbid — the struggle for objectivity and reality or truth.
After all there is nothing to be said against the assumption that every reality is a certain view of reality. Reality is always a reflected, a known. Something else cannot be ascertained, not with the best will in the world — so then, why should it be there? And, actually — what should it be?