Transcription
What you're about to hear will blow your mind. It might change how you see everything: your thoughts, your body, even reality itself.
It took me 30 years to figure out that every one of us is a field, and it doesn't exist in this field; does not exist in space and time. Spacetime is; exist within these fields that we are; is us. If a particle existed, it wouldn't disappear, right? But an electron can appear and disappear. But it is a state of a field that appears or disappears. There is nothing more; the part. There is no particle.
Nobody can understand why quantum computers work because their actual operation cannot occur in spacetime. It must occur in what is called Hilbert space. But Hilbert space is supposed to be a mathematical abstraction. So how can you do operations in an abstract space of mathematics? You see, is incoherent. So the problem now is a problem of power and control behind this desire to have a deterministic and reductionistic world, which is the materialist philosophy; which is; it's time to abandon that because quantum physics already is saying that that doesn't work.
Federico Fagen isn't just another scientist. He's the man who invented the microprocessor, the chip that powers every computer on the planet. Without him, there's no smartphone, no internet, no AI. But here's the twist. After building the brain of the machine, he started asking what creates our brain. And what he found, it flips everything upside down. He says your brain doesn't create consciousness. It receives it, like a radio tuning into a signal. Your body, just the hardware. The real you is coming from somewhere else, something deeper, something beyond space and time.
And it gets crazier. Every single one of your 50 trillion cells, it holds the blueprint of your entire being. Each part contains the whole. That's not mechanical. That's holographic. To Fagen, we're not machines made of meat. We're fields, self-aware, connected, intelligent, and he's not guessing. This lines up with quantum physics where matter isn't solid, just patterns in a field. So if he's right, then consciousness isn't in the brain. It's behind reality itself, and everything we thought we knew might be wrong.
So let's take that idea seriously. What if your brain isn't doing the thinking? It's just tuning in. Imagine this: your brain isn't the origin of your thoughts, feelings, or decisions, but simply the tool that allows you to experience them.
For years, the scientific community has leaned on a materialist view of reality: the belief that consciousness is a product of the brain. Neurons fire, circuits light up, chemicals pass signals, and somehow out of all that activity, a sense of you emerges. But this explanation leaves critical questions unanswered. Why do you feel things? Not just pain or joy, but the color red, the sound of music, the smell of fresh earth. These subjective experiences, known as qualia, are fundamental to existence. Yet materialist theories fail to explain why they exist at all. And even more perplexing is the question of choice, free will. If the brain is entirely governed by physical laws, how does it allow for creative decisions or moments of self-determination?
Federrico Fagen argues that the problem might be with the assumption itself. He suggests that the brain is more like a radio than a source. Think of a radio sitting on your desk. It picks up signals and allows you to hear music or talk shows. But the sound doesn't come from the radio itself. It comes from a signal transmitted through the air. When you turn the radio off or break it, the signal doesn't disappear. You're just unable to access it anymore. According to Fagen, consciousness works in much the same way. The brain doesn't produce it. It processes it. And this signal, it comes from something completely outside of spacetime itself. The qualia do not exist in the body. They exist in the field. And the qualia, these are representable with quantum state. Quantum state is how the quantum field transforms; translates this information in the cells, which is; I call it live information; is a type of information that has not been studied at all; not even imagined at all; which is in between quantum information and classical information. It is the; the stuff that makes the cell work.
This idea flips everything we know about neuroscience and biology on its head. The dominant scientific view is reductionist, meaning it tries to explain our inner worlds as the result of physical processes: neurons firing, synapses transmitting, and networks assembling complexity. But Fagen doesn't see consciousness as something emerging from physical complexity. Instead, he believes it's primary. It's the origin point, and everything else, including spacetime, emerges from it. From this perspective, the body is secondary, not the essence of who we are. He uses the metaphor of the body as a drone controlled by a conscious field operating beyond the perceived limits of space and time. The physical form serves as a vehicle for exploring the material world. But the driver, the true self, exists on a different level of reality entirely.
Imagine that you control a drone. You know, we are a body; controls a drone that is in Afghanistan; you know, watching around and semiautonomous, so I don't have to worry about to; you know, I only had to express where I wanted to go; so high-level language; you know, say move right or whatever; drop the bomb or whatever; you know, because that's what we do with drones in these days. So now the drone looks at that reality where it is; sends me information, and I get the conscious experience of what the drone is seeing. That conscious experience is not in my body; is in my consciousness. And based on that and based on my free will, I'll tell the drone what to do. The drone doesn't know anything.
Fagen's idea does more than challenge our understanding. It calls into question the validity of the materialist framework that dominates modern science. If consciousness is not a product of neurons, but instead the foundation of reality, then much of what science assumes about the universe might be incomplete or even fundamentally flawed. This could explain why certain phenomena like qualia remain unexplainable. Why would subjective experience exist at all in a universe that's supposedly mechanical and indifferent? This could also illuminate the debate around free will. In a deterministic physical system, choice shouldn't be possible. But in a model where consciousness drives reality, free will might become not just possible, but essential.
Examples of this challenge are already hiding in plain view. Near-death experiences, for instance, suggest that consciousness might exist independently of the brain. People who report such experiences often describe vivid awareness, sensations of leaving their bodies, or even encountering others when their brains are inactive or without measurable function. If the materialist assumption were true—that consciousness ends when brain activity stops—then these reports shouldn't exist; and yet they do. They hint at a larger picture where the brain is a limiter, not the generator of our true awareness.
If we take this seriously, what does it say about death? If the body is just a drone and the brain just a filter, then does the end of the physical body mean the end of consciousness? Not necessarily. According to Fagen's model, the conscious field persists even after the physical form ceases to operate. Death then becomes less of an end and more of a transition. A moment where the signal, unrestrained by the closed circuit of the physical brain, continues on. This isn't unlike turning off that radio signal. The message still exists, waiting to be picked up by another means.
According to quantum physics, the universe is holistic. Is not made of separable parts. Everything is connected. Everything is connected from the inside. But according to most physicists, there is no inside because you know they think that all that exists is actually what you can measure. But that is not possible.
Nobody can understand why quantum computers work because their actual operation cannot occur in spacetime. It must occur in what is called Hilbert space. But Hilbert space is supposed to be a mathematical abstraction. So how can you do operations in an abstract space of mathematics? You see, is incoherent. But nobody wants to think deeply about this stuff because nobody has ever taught how to think deeply about stuff. They want to solve the problem. Give me the equation. I'll solve the equations. But the equations are created by consciousness. It is consciousness that creates mathematics, not mathematics that creates consciousness.
It took me 30 years to figure out that mathematics is created by consciousness and therefore I cannot explain consciousness with mathematics. And I realized that I was trying to do the same because I was taught that way.
At its core, Fagen's argument forces us to reframe everything we've known about reality and ourselves. It suggests that the material world may just be the surface layer, a filtered experience of something far deeper and more fundamental. If consciousness is not confined to the brain, then the most urgent question is clear: Where is it coming from? And to Fagen, the answer might lie in the quantum field.
Quantum fields sit at the core of modern physics, quietly shaping everything we experience. Federico Fagen draws attention to a striking idea: particles, which we often imagine as tiny solid objects, are actually just fleeting ripples, states, within these fields. He likens them to waves in the ocean. You can't separate a wave from the sea itself. In the same way, you can't pull a particle out of its field. This perspective dissolves the sharp boundaries we assume exist between things. What we call objects are simply localized excitations inseparable from the field that gives rise to them. A particle like an electron doesn't exist separate from the fields. It's the state of the field. From a physics point of view, ontology is in the field; is not in the particles because the particles, you know, are integral to the field. So they come and they go. If; if a particle existed, it wouldn't disappear, right? But an electron can appear and disappear, but it is a state of a field that appears or disappears. There is nothing more. There is no particle. But physicist; the particle physicist; but I see the particles. No, you don't see the particles. You see the effect of the states of the field on this classical world, and then you see something, but that is not a particle. That is the effect of something that was amplified and, you know, a huge number of times to give you what you call a particle.
Traditional physics taught us to think of the world as a collection of things: matter interacting in predictable ways. Quantum mechanics, however, reveals a universe where connections and probabilities matter more than any individual object. A photon can act as both a particle and a wave depending on how we observe it. The act of observation itself triggers wave function collapse, a shift from a haze of possibilities to a single definite outcome. This is one of science's biggest mysteries. What if consciousness itself triggers that collapse? Fagen's answer challenges the foundations of materialism. He suggests that consciousness isn't an afterthought or a byproduct of physical interactions. Instead, consciousness is woven into the fabric of reality, inseparable from the quantum fields themselves.
At the heart of his theory is quantum information. Unlike classical information, which can be copied, shared, and stored, quantum information is fundamentally indivisible. The no-cloning theorem in quantum physics states that you cannot make an exact copy of a quantum state. Fagen draws a parallel to conscious experience. Just as no one can duplicate your exact thoughts or feelings, no quantum state can be precisely replicated. Each conscious experience is unique and irreducible, anchored in the singularity of quantum information. This indivisibility is more than a technical detail. It hints at why consciousness feels so private and personal. When you remember a childhood moment or feel a sudden emotion, that inner experience can't be extracted or transferred. It's as singular as a quantum state shaped by the field from which it arises. Fagen argues that this is not a coincidence. Consciousness and quantum information are two sides of the same coin, each defined by their uniqueness and their resistance to duplication. If quantum fields carry this kind of information, then they may also be the medium through which consciousness flows.
Fagen proposes that the universe doesn't operate as a collection of isolated minds or objects, but as a vast interconnected field where individuality emerges from deeper unity. He borrows from the image of a hologram. In a holographic plate, every small region contains information about the whole image. Similarly, every conscious being might reflect the larger field of awareness, connecting each of us to something greater than ourselves. This approach also addresses a classic puzzle in the philosophy of mind: How do individual experiences combine to form a unified consciousness? Classical pansychism struggles with this combination problem. Fagen's quantum information offers a solution. When quantum states combine, they don't simply add together. They create new emergent states that are more than the sum of their parts. This allows for the rise of complex consciousness from simpler forms, with each new state possessing its own unified experience.
You and I can know each other; can enter into resonance by communicating because I cannot directly give you what I'm; what I know and what I feel, right; and likewise for you. So we had to communicate, and that communication brings into inner resonance; and if we keep on doing that, after a while, we; if we can create the same state internally; you and I; from that unity of state; then that's like the quantum superposition; then you get a new entity; but then the new entity does not destroy who we are; basically, we can create another sity like us; like one; create because we have the same properties of one, right; except with one point of view instead of the multiplicity of point of points of view of one. So I can create another; another sity like myself, but not copy myself. So when this; when we reach that; you and I create another sity, and the two join and they become one that now has its own life.
If Fagen is right, the boundaries between self and world are less rigid than they seem. Consciousness isn't confined to the brain or the body. Instead, it is a fundamental aspect of reality interwoven with the fields that structure the universe. Our sense of individuality is real, but it rests within a much broader interconnected whole. The physical world we perceive becomes a filtered rendering of a deeper reality, one where consciousness and quantum fields are inseparable. This perspective reframes long-standing questions about what it means to be alive, to be aware, and to exist at all. It suggests that experience is not an isolated spark, but part of an ongoing exchange with something vast and continuous. And if consciousness is not bound by the limits of the brain or the body, the nature of life and what lies beyond takes on a very different meaning.
What if death isn't the end, but a transition, a shift as the body disconnects from consciousness? Federico Fagen describes the body as a kind of vessel controlled by a conscious field that exists outside of spacetime. This perspective transforms how we view the nature of life and death. If consciousness is primary, as Fagen suggests, then the end of the body isn't the end of the self. Instead, it marks a change in how consciousness operates. Much like a drone losing its signal, the operator, or consciousness, remains. But what actually happens when this connection is severed?
Near-death experiences could provide a clue. Many people who've been clinically dead, some for minutes or more, report an awareness that extends far beyond their physical bodies. They describe vivid encounters, seeing loved ones who've passed on, replaying significant moments from their lives, or even witnessing events they couldn't have observed physically. Some recount meeting individuals they didn't even know had died until later, confirming it was true. What's striking about these accounts is their consistency. People often describe an overwhelming sense of love, peace, and interconnectedness, far removed from the biological processes of a failing brain. These experiences suggest that consciousness might not just survive the body's demise, but thrive in another form of existence.
Think about how limited our senses are in perceiving reality. We see only a narrow band of light, hear only specific sound frequencies, and interpret the world through biological filters shaped by evolution. But what if the physical universe is only one sliver of a much larger, richer reality? According to Fagen, the material world acts like a lens, filtering and simplifying consciousness into something we can process through our bodies. Yet, when the body's gone, that filter is removed. Consciousness could then expand into its true state, connected not just to the self but to the entirety of existence.
Fagen connects this to quantum information, which he argues represents the inner experiences we call qualia: the way red feels, the way joy hums, the way memories take shape. Unlike classical information which computers process and duplicate, quantum information cannot be copied or separated from its system. It's unique, private, and indivisible, just like consciousness. This gives rise to an extraordinary implication: If quantum information is indestructible, perhaps consciousness itself cannot be destroyed. Rather than ceasing to exist, our essence, our awareness, might simply shift into a different mode of being. To Fagen, death is not an end, but a transition back to what he calls the original source. What we think of as the self, the "me" tied to a body, is just one temporary perspective within the vast field of consciousness.
Expanding on this, Fagen describes the universe as a self-knowing entity. He proposes that consciousness drives evolution, not just biological, but cosmic. Space itself, he suggests, expands as consciousness explores and discovers more. Every act of knowing, every realization creates new possibilities and connections, allowing the universe to grow and evolve alongside our awareness.
Why is space expanding faster than light at the; at the edges; you know; because it is; basically; there is; ever; space is like a balloon that; that inflates; and this is the very; you know; inflation. Now the inflation was the early part of the universe. This is not called inflation. This; this is a consequence of having found that there is; the universe is expanding exponentially at the; at the in the horizon. So which can only be explained if there is a; the universe is; is growing; the space is growing from within. Okay. In my model, space is the memory of the self-knowing of one. And because one knows ever more about itself, space must inflate, must grow exponentially. You know that quantum states only exist within a very narrow present. So in order to remember your experience, you must put it into long-term memory. That's our theory also; is selling that very clearly. So now this present enriches itself of all the past that you have experienced. But when you want to experience that past, you can only experience that in the present. So experience can only exist in the present.
In this view, life becomes a journey of self-discovery, and death doesn't halt that journey. Instead, it opens new doors, shifting the focus of consciousness to explore realms we can't yet conceive. To illustrate this, consider the idea of the ego. Fagen sees it as a temporary structure shaped by the body and the physical world, like a set of clothes suited for the environment we're in. When the body dies, the ego—the part of us that identifies with our name, background, and physical form—falls away. But the underlying consciousness, the field that drives our thoughts and experiences, continues. This isn't reincarnation in the traditional sense, nor is it nothingness. Instead, it's a return to the broader field of awareness where individuality still exists, but in a much more expansive context. Death may feel like an ending, but from this perspective, it's a kind of homecoming, a reconnection with the true nature of reality.
This perspective offers not just intellectual clarity, but emotional impact. If our consciousness persists, if death is a transition rather than an extinguishing, it reframes how we think about life itself. Suddenly, life isn't about survival or competition. It's about connection, meaning, purpose. It becomes less about accumulating things, money, achievements, or status, and more about understanding who we are, both as individuals and as part of something greater. When you let go of fear, of death, of failure, you make room to experience life as it truly is: a constant unfoldment of discovery.
Fagen's theory feels radical, but it resonates with both ancient spiritual traditions and modern accounts of extraordinary experiences. It also aligns with what science is beginning to uncover about quantum information and its unique properties. If our consciousness is tied to this indestructible information, then perhaps we've misunderstood the true nature of the self. Perhaps death isn't the vanishing point we've been taught to believe. Instead, it's a doorway, a transition into something even more profound. And this leads to a deeper question, one not just about death, but about life: If consciousness truly is the foundation of reality, how should we live knowing that we're more than our bodies, more than the ego's temporary view? What does it mean to exist as part of this infinite self-knowing universe?