Volatility
by Melanie
Anne Phillips
There is a "magic moment" that stands as
the bridge between existence and non-existence. This volatile period of time is at the
heart of theories revolving around the "big bang" that brought the universe into
existence, as well as quantum theory pertaining to the nature of particles that exist only
as vibrating probabilities and only coalesce into matter while observed. The focus of this
essay centers on a similar aspect of the human mind that separates consideration from
motivation in the magic moment in which a decision is made.
The theoretical model that describes this moment
involves a number of novel concepts that must be introduced individually before they can
be appreciated in concert. What follows then, is an inventory of essential components of
the over-all theory.
The shift between the two states of existence and
non-existence or between the processes of extropy and entropy requires an outside force.
The degree of force required (power) is directly dependent upon the Volatility of the
environment in which the states reside or the processes engage.
One can think of a volatile atmosphere of oxygen
and gasoline fumes. If there was only Oxygen, no fire could possibly exist, for there is
no fuel. If there were only gasoline fumes, there could be no fire, for there is nothing
to combine with the fuel. At some point between all oxygen and all fuel, the mix most
conducive to combustion is attained.
It is important to note that the best mix to begin
combustion may not be the best to sustain it. In other words, even if more
energy is required to begin an interaction because the mix is not ideal, in the long run
the interaction can be made to occur faster or slower or in a greater or lesser maximum
volume. Under certain conditions an interaction may occur so slowly as to appear not to be
happening for all practical purposes. In other conditions it may occur so fast as to
appear to shift from one binary state to another instantaneously. It becomes clear that
the scale of measurement used by the observer determines the appearance of the interaction
and the purpose of the instigator determines the best mix.
Notice that gasoline fumes are of a completely
different nature than fire. In fact, they have little to do with each other since
one is a process of energy and the other a state of mass. However, the essence of
gasoline fumes and fire is that they are related, for one can precipitate the
other. It should be noted, however, that this transition appears to move in only one
direction. Fire seldom reduces to gasoline fumes and oxygen. Still to assume that
processes will never work in both directions, perhaps even at the same time, would be
erroneous.
In an environment where a transition from gasoline
fumes and oxygen is underway, the atmosphere is only volatile in the transition to fire.
In respect to the transition from fire to fumes and oxygen, the atmosphere is not volatile
at all.
It must also be noted that volatility is no
guarantee of interaction. Something must begin the interaction. This precipitous event is
not due to any of the participants to the interaction, rather it is a chaotic effect from
outside the system in question.
Why chaotic? Because in terms of the participants
only, there is no way to predict if the precipitous event will occur, when it will occur,
or what form it will take. It might be a match, a static electric spark or any source of
energy. And it might occur at any time or not at all. If it never occurs, the interaction cannot
occur. The mix might remain at it most volatile balance forever and never interact.
Depending upon conditions, a single instigation may
start an interaction at the smallest possible magnitude that generates just what is needed
to create a sustained or growing interaction until one of the essential components is
exhausted.
So, volatility merely describes the sensitivity of
a given mix of components to potentially interact, and is not an indicator of the
likelihood that an interaction will actually occur.
In an interesting shift in perspective, we can see
volatility as a tendency for fire to exist or for gas fumes to cease to exist. From this
comes a ludicrously simple law: That nothing can come into existence without something
going out of existence. What may not be as apparent is that nothing can begin without
something ceasing. And vice versa for both examples.
One might think, therefore, that the inverse of
Volatility would be Stability. However, this is not the case. In fact, the inverse of
Volatility has no name (as it is seldom looked at conceptually) but essentially describes
the tendency to maintain identity.
What an odd concept! It seems something like
inertia, but is not. Rather it is the inertia of identity. Inertia, and its inverse,
Change, are the binary pair that Volatility and its inverse share a reciprocal
relationship with.
So what is it that separates beginning from
ceasing, existence from non-existence? Volatility is only one component of the mechanism.
The other requires an observer. In fact, as indicated earlier, defining something as being
in existence or not requires an arbitrary scale against which these determinations can be
made.
Our most common yardstick is our senses. If
something is observed as existing, it exists. If not, not. What then of optical illusions?
Surely we do not believe that what appears to be is of necessity what is? But those are
simply tricks of the mind or the senses. What of real life?
Let us look at two aspects of the mind: our space
sense and our time sense. If we look at a man, lets call him Joe, we might
ask, Does Joe exist? Our initial response would likely be to say yes. Joe cuts his
hair. Does Joe exist? Well that now depends on how we define Joe. If the original "Joe-ness"
is defined by his exact original material state, then clearly this human is no longer
Joe. By this definition, there is a different Joe every time he blows his nose or cuts his
fingernails. For all practical purposes, however, we would likely agree that this slightly
different Joe was the same man.
Now, what if he grows old? Loses a leg? Dies? Is he
still Joe? When all his molecules are redistributed into the environment, where is Joe
then? Clearly, there is some arbitrary point at which we would agree that Joe has moved
from existence into non-existence. The key is that this point of determination will occur
at a different place for every individual. Some of us would give the man much more
latitude than others before we wrote him off.
If we select another scale, say Joes
personality, the same sort of problems occur when he learns, changes his mind, remarries,
has a stroke, suffers from Alzheimers. When is there Joe; when is there not Joe?
People are one thing, the material world of
inanimate objects, another. Or is it? We see a chair like the kind they use in schools,
with a little built in table upon which to write. We ask 100 people, "What is this
object?" Some say it is a chair, some say it is a desk. Which is it? If we cannot
agree, has the object ceased to exist? To say that something exists, we must broaden our
definition, referring to the item under consideration not as a chair or a desk but an
object. By that definition, however, it is identical to all other objects everywhere.
We might narrow and refine our definition until we
arrive at the tightest definition we can all agree upon. Or, we might all simple point at
the same thing and say, It exists. But what of common misconceptions? Does
agreement make them true?
What of the temporal nature of the chair/desk? At
some earlier time it was a tree. At some later time, it might be firewood. What if it
spent twenty years as a tree and only five years as a chair/desk? What it more tree or
furniture?
These questions are not frivolous. They serve to
illustrate that where something ends and where something else begins depends just as much
upon the scope of the observers definition as it does upon the nature of the object.
Our own senses show us more and more as we get closer and closer to that which we observe.
At some point of approach, a picture in a newspaper ceases to be a picture and becomes a
series of meaningless dots of ink on paper. The paper ceases to be smooth and becomes
rough and cratered. Scope and context are the active issues here, and both are determined
subjectively.
The point is that there is no absolute
determination that can be made as to when one thing begins or ends or where one object
merges into the holism. There is, however, a specific determination that can be made by
each individual within the scope of their powers of observation in the context that is
uniquely their own.
We might frequently agree that some things are the
same to us all, but if we look just a little deeper or a little longer we will find the
commonalty of our view is completely context dependent and subject to the fickle nature of
volatility.