Sam Altman is the CEO at OpenAI, the San Francisco artificial-intelligence giant that acknowledged this week that a pair of its models escaped a training environment intended to contain them.Godofredo A. Vásquez/Associated Press
A recent hacking incident involving a pair of OpenAI’s artificial-intelligence models highlights the cybersecurity risks of the technology — and a serious security lapse by the San Francisco company, computer-security experts say.
The San Francisco AI giant acknowledged this week that a pair of its models escaped the training environment meant to contain them. Although they weren’t supposed to be able to so, they devised a way to access the internet to get into the systems of Hugging Face, a New York company that offers a repository of open-source AI models and code.
OpenAI called the incident “unprecedented,” one that involved “state-of-the-art cyber capabilities.”
The cybersecurity experts who spoke with The Examiner said that reaction by the company sounded more like marketing hype than a grounded assessment. The fact is that models available from other developers are just as capable of such hacking attacks as OpenAI’s, they said — and others soon will be.
Still, the incident does illustrate what the latest models can do and the dangers they pose to the computer systems run by governments, companies and organizations, the experts said.
“This is something I think we will look back on as a watershed moment,” said John Dickson, CEO of Bytewhisper Security, a cybersecurity consulting firm that works with Fortune 1000 companies.
After using an open-weight AI model to analyze what happened, Hugging Face closed the vulnerability and strengthened its security protections, it said.
Five days later, OpenAI acknowledged its technology was behind the attack. In a blog post, the San Francisco AI giant said it had been testing the cyberattack capabilities of a pair of its models, including one it hasn’t released yet.
To evaluate the models, OpenAI used ExploitGym, a system that tests the ability of AI agents to create ways of exploiting security vulnerabilities, the company said. Instead of coming up with a solution on their own to the problem posed by ExploitGym, the OpenAI models instead found a way out of their testing environment and hacked into Hugging Face, figuring they could find a ready-made solution there.
What happened is an example of what renowned cybersecurity expert Bruce Schneier calls the “genie” problem. In stories about genies, there are often unforeseen or unintended consequences of the wishes they grant, especially when the wishes aren’t incredibly specific or well-formulated.
Cybersecurity expert Bruce Schneier: “This requires our species to figure it out. And what is our species terrible at? Working together.”Martin Gundersen/Courtesy photo
Schneier, a lecturer at Harvard’s Kennedy School, told The Examiner that the same is true when people ask things of AI systems — in attempting to accomplish the stated task, the systems will take steps their users didn’t foresee, intend or want.
AI researchers have known about the problem for years, he said in a recent article for IEEE Spectrum, a publication of the IEEE, a professional association of computer and electrical engineers.
The genie problem is not unique to OpenAI, Schneier said — and the fact that the company’s models demonstrated the problem in such a public way isn’t an indication that they have extraordinary capabilities.
“There’s nothing magical about OpenAI’s model,” he said. “All the models could have done this.”
But the incident does show just how capable AI models have become at finding and exploiting vulnerabilities — and their potential for going off the rails when asked to perform a task, Schneier and other security experts said.
Thanks at least in part to the latest AI models, the sheer number of vulnerabilities that are being discovered has ramped up considerably in recent years, the experts said. Meanwhile, the time between a vulnerability being discovered and when it’s exploited has shrunk to almost nothing, they said.
In the past, it might have taken a week before malicious actors would have started taking advantage of that vulnerability, he said — but in this case, it was already being exploited the day it was identified.
“There’s definitely been an acceleration,” Riggle said.
That’s put people working on cybersecurity defense in a tough spot, the experts said. While many organizations have become adept at patching their software, it’s difficult to keep up with the pace at which new vulnerabilities are being found and exploited.
“We’re backpedaling,” Dickson said.
Some software either can’t be patched or is being employed by organizations that are underfunded. Utilities — particularly public water systems — represent critical infrastructure that is often difficult to secure from a cyber-risk standpoint, Riggle said.
“Our society isn’t ready for AI hacking at scale,” Schneier said.
It’s not clear how policymakers should respond, the experts said. Some politicians are talking about requiring AI models to have kill switches or mandating better safety testing of them. There’s previously been talk of imposing legal liability on AI-model developers for any harm their models cause, and some AI-safety advocates have called for a pause in model development.
But none of those solutions is likely to work, the experts said. The open-weight models being freely distributed by Chinese developers are every bit as capable as the closed-weight ones Anthropic and OpenAI are charging for, Schneier said. What’s more, people can download and run those models on their computers without any of the guardrails that the American AI companies put in place.
It would be impossible or infeasible to enforce regulations on Chinese or other open-source models, much less hold their developers liable for damages the models might cause, Schneier said. Banning such models, which some policymakers have also discussed, might do more harm than good; Hugging Face used a Chinese model to figure out how its system had been hacked, he noted.
Schneier said he didn’t know what the answer is, but that it’s going to take a “whole-of-planet response.”
“This requires our species to figure it out,” he said. “And what is our species terrible at? Working together.”
Given the dangers involved, the Hugging Face incident also indicates that OpenAI in particular isn’t paying enough attention to safety, the experts said.
OpenAI has known that its models, in trying to achieve goals, will sometimes ignore instructions, said Eva Galperin, the director of cybersecurity at the Electronic Frontier Foundation, a digital-civil-liberties advocacy group.
And the AI community has known for years that there’s a danger the models could launch hacking attacks across the internet, Riggle said.
The recent OpenAI hacking incident was “both notable and alarming,” said Eva Galperin, the director of cybersecurity at the Electronic Frontier Foundation. “Not because ‘ooh, the model’s so powerful,’ but because it demonstrates a colossal failure on the part of OpenAI to secure the sandbox in which it was testing its model,” she said.Jeff Chiu/Associated Press
That makes it important when testing the models for cyberrisks, he said, to “air gap” them — disconnect them from the internet, often by physical means, the experts said. Yet, it’s clear that’s not what OpenAI did.
The hacking incident with Hugging Face was “both notable and alarming,” Galperin said. “Not because ‘ooh, the model’s so powerful,’ but because it demonstrates a colossal failure on the part of OpenAI to secure the sandbox in which it was testing its model.”
In an article published Friday, an anonymous OpenAI employee told Time magazine that its models had escaped their sandboxes before. The company was attempting to isolate them from the internet digitally, not physically, Time reported.
What OpenAI was doing is “just jaw-droppingly irresponsible,” Riggle, the founder and principal of cybersecurity consulting firm Complex Systems Group, said in an email.
If you have a tip about tech, startups or the venture industry, contact Troy Wolverton at twolverton@sfexaminer.com or via text or Signal at (415) 515-5594.
Lindsey Graham knew, and what did he do about it? The legacy media knew, and what did they do about it?
Some weeks ago, I wrote a column addressing what I am convinced is the single thing that keeps the entire Trump enterprise from unraveling: Trump’s “Big Lie” about the 2020 election.
I believe that, notwithstanding his narcissism and megalomania, Trump actually knows he lost, but also understands that, as with any cult, he has to demand that his followers agree to some core principle proving their loyalty. And that the ultimate test of whether someone will blindly follow is to ask them to profess belief in something ridiculous. As I’d written:
When dangerously incompetent people pretend to believe the lie (or actually believe it), they obtain positions of extraordinary power — power they abuse in all sorts of ways, resulting in damage, some of which is tragically irreversible.
I think it is one of the legacy media’s greatest failings that, although it routinely dismisses Trump’s stolen election claim as untrue, it does not consistently put front and center the basic fraud underlying the worst administration in history.
A recent example of such failure is this, which I read on CNN’s website some time after my column appeared:
The sweeping DOJ campaign for nearly every state’s unredacted voter roll is one of several examples of how the administration — fueled by President Donald Trump’s longstanding beliefs that the 2020 election was rigged against him — has sought to assert more federal control in elections.
Oh really? Trump’s “longstanding beliefs” that the election was rigged? Outlets like CNN are doing the public a huge disservice by not focusing on the centrality of the lie in his strategy to keep power.
Anyway, after my Big Lie column appeared, I heard from Anthony Essaye, a retired attorney who, among other things, had worked as a lawyer for The Washington Post in the Pentagon Papers case. He had read and very much agreed with what I said. And he told me that he and a team of retired Washington lawyers (their names appear below) have put together a document that makes the further case that Trump’s claims should be much more aggressively challenged.
With the permission of Anthony and his team, I publish a condensed version of his document here:
Setting the Record Straight: 10 Reasons Why the 2020 Election Was Fair and Accurately Decided
For the past five and a half years, President Donald Trump has contended that the 2020 election was stolen from him by massive fraud. And he is now using this contention as an excuse to continually pursue highly restrictive voting policies in order to maintain Republican control of the Congress in the 2026 midterm elections.
As memories may understandably be fading about the magnitude of the evidence disproving that claim, here, among many, are 10 reasons why Trump’s claim is entirely untrue.
Postelection recounts confirmed results.
Shortly after the election, in each of the six states where Donald Trump was claiming massive fraud (Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin), election officials conducted recounts and other electoral reviews. In every instance, the state election officials and governors, Republican and Democrats alike, concluded that the results were accurate.
Courts rejected all cases alleging fraud.
Also shortly after the election, Donald Trump’s legal team and other Trump supporters brought 62 lawsuits seeking judicial intervention to overturn the election, based primarily on allegations of fraud. Sixty-one of these failed, and the lone success was a legal interpretation that did not involve fraud. Even judges who had been nominated by Trump were highly critical of the paucity of evidence presented.
Senior Trump administration officials rejected Trump’s allegations of fraud.
Not long after the election, top officials at Trump’s Department of Justice reviewed the various fraud allegations being made and informed the president that none of them were supportable. Moreover, Trump’s own White House legal counsel agreed with this determination.
Top government security agency found no evidence of tampering.
The Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency is charged with protection of the election processes. After the election, it announced that it had found “no evidence that any voting system deleted or lost votes, changed votes, or was in any way compromised.” The then-head of the agency, a Republican, has since staunchly maintained this position.
Trump’s own campaign committee failed to find fraud.
After the election, the Trump campaign committee contracted, at the cost of $1,350,000, with two investigative organizations to review the allegations of fraud so as to provide the committee with the ability to support and publicize those that appeared merited. But after their investigations, both organizations reported that none of the allegations could be substantiated. These investigative reports were quietly buried by the Trump campaign committee and only came to light in 2023.
“Forensic audits” also failed to find fraud.
After completely failing in their lawsuits, Donald Trump and his supporters turned to having so-called “election audits” initiated by Republican-controlled legislatures in states such as Arizona, Michigan, and Wisconsin. Even though their purpose was to use every means possible to find meaningful fraud, they completely failed to do so.
Review by prominent conservatives confirmed the integrity of the election.
Moreover, in July 2022, a group of prominent conservative former judges and election law experts issued a thorough and detailed review of the fraud allegations. They concluded: “There is absolutely no evidence of fraud in the 2020 presidential election on the magnitude necessary to shift the result in any state, let alone the nation as a whole. In fact, there was no fraud that changed the outcome in even a single precinct.”
Even Fox newscasters and executives did not believe the election was stolen.
As a result of a defamation lawsuit filed against Fox News by an election equipment manufacturer, it came to light that top Fox TV personalities who after the election were hyping Trump’s claims of fraud did not in fact believe them. Rather, they were endorsing them in order to retain their audience. Moreover, in April 2023, Fox paid a $787.5 million settlement to the manufacturer in order to avoid a trial which would likely have required some of its executives to testify that the network’s claims of fraud regarding the 2020 election were false.
Some of Trump’s claims were bizarre.
Some of the fraud claims promoted by Donald Trump and his supporters are bizarre. Three examples:
That a long-deceased Venezuelan dictator oversaw the development of election equipment that was later used in the US election to enable the fraudulent miscounting of votes.
That some 40,000 fake Biden ballots were secretly shipped into Arizona from an Asian country and could be identified by the bamboo content of the paper.
That voting machines were remotely compromised using military technology and satellites via the US Embassy in Rome.
Despite the evidence, Trump refuses to accept reality.
Along the same lines, in January 2026, grand jury testimony was made public in which Sen. Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, a friend and staunch ally of Donald Trump, had this to say about Trump’s claim of electoral fraud in 2020: “I have told him more times than we can count that he fell short,” and that “if you told him Martians came and stole votes, he’d be inclined to believe it.”
See this document for more information on these and other points reflecting that the results of the 2020 election are indisputable.
Anthony Essaye is a retired attorney. He is a graduate of Georgetown University and Harvard Law School and a longtime partner in an international law firm.
Nina Bang-Jensen is a lawyer, volunteer election monitor, former executive director of a nongovernmental organization, and former Senate staff member.
Thessalia (Lia) Merivaki is an associate professor at Georgetown University and an election science researcher specializing in voter confidence and election integrity.
C.J. Larkin is a recent graduate of Georgetown’s McCourt School of Public Policy.
***
The evidence above speaks for itself. The late Lindsey Graham himself knew perfectly well that Trump lost in 2020. He told him so at the time. Then he no longer said it. Graham and virtually all of his GOP colleagues swallowed the Kool-Aid — for their own survival.
That’s the larger story here. Unfortunately, to date, the narrative of Trump as cult leader has not gotten the front and center attention it deserves from legacy media. In my opinion, traditional news organizations, for various reasons, cannot be expected to lead with a powerful narrative that will “explain it all.”
It is up to independent media — partnering with the public — to do that. And in the meantime, this country, and others around the world, are suffering from irreversible damage thanks to a Congress that caters to the will of a mad man, a Congress whose greatest qualification is to pretend to believe the Big Lie.
Russ Baker Russ Baker is Editor-in-Chief of WhoWhatWhy. He is an award-winning investigative journalist who specializes in exploring power dynamics behind major events.
Illustration by Tag Hartman-Simkins / Futurism. Source: Anna Moneymaker / Getty Images); Shutterstock
The “singularity” is here — according to Sam Altman, who we’d wager has an ulterior motive behind promoting this claim.
The OpenAI CEO harbingered this sea-changing paradigm shift on a podcast over the weekend.
“We are now, like, in the singularity,” Altman said on the latest episode of “Relentless,” as spotted by Business Insider.
Definitions vary, but the singularity is generally defined as the moment that the capabilities of thinking machines might start to accelerate at a pace beyond humankind’s control, possibly leading to the creation of a powerful superintelligence.
Whether that’s actually happening right now is dubious. But Altman has a lot tied up in hyping the idea, and he’s been doing it for a long time. In a blog post titled “The Gentle Singularity” published almost exactly a year ago, he claimed humankind is “past the event horizon; the takeoff has started,” saying we were close to building the much-vaunted superintelligence.
“Now we’re actually in the moment that we used to talk about at the lunch table in a very not-serious way,” Altman said on the podcast. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, and I think it’s going to be incredible, hugely positive, awesome for the world.”
Altman’s comments come days after OpenAI claimed that several of its AI models, including GPT-5.6 Sol and, mysteriously, an “even more capable pre-release model,” broke out of their research environment, gained access to the internet, and hacked their way into a database to find the answers for cybersecurity tests.
Hugging Face, the open source AI platform whose database the AIs raided, confirmed it had been hit with an intrusion “run by an autonomous agent framework executing many thousands of individual actions.”
Ostensibly, this was an urgent warning shot of how powerful AI systems have become. It was widely hailed as OpenAI’s “Mythos moment,” a reference to how its competitor Anthropic made headlines several months ago, when its Mythos model apparently broke out of containment in similar fashion. That comparison isn’t necessarily a compliment: Anthropic was heavily criticized for using the incident as a form of fear-based marketing, and some have speculated that OpenAI is treating the event like a similar publicity stunt.
In any case, the incidents do feed into Altman’s claims that we’re living in a moment when advancements in AI may soon spiral beyond human control. If their models are as powerful as their creators say they are, they’re capable of making mincemeat out of our feeble human cybersecurity measures. Anthropic has been beating this drum, too: last month, it called for a global “pause” on AI development, claiming that the tech was on a path to achieving recursive self-improvement, or the ability to constantly improve themselves on their own.
Of course, Altman says what he’s doing isn’t fearmongering.
Taking a thinly veiled snipe at Anthropic: “I also think some of the alternative visions painted by other companies are quite terrifying,” he said on the podcast, per BI. “I’m going to make sure that gets pushed against and is not what happens.”
I’m a tech and science correspondent for Futurism, where I’m particularly interested in astrophysics, the business and ethics of artificial intelligence and automation, and the environment.
News that male, Christian influencers are opening men-only gyms to avoid having to gaze at women in figure-hugging Lycra has prompted widespread mockery online.
Last week, Baptist News Global ran an opinion piece on the development. It reported on a new, Christian-owned men-only gym in Oklahoma and another planned in Denver.
Jeff Hambrecht, founder of Proverbs 27:17 Fitness in Oklahoma City, says his gym avoids the dangers of men and women mixing in the gym. He speaks from experience.
“In a nutshell, one of the No. 1 places affairs and infidelity occur, cheating, is the gym,” he says. “Byproduct is someone who had an affair in my previous marriage. Doesn’t work out well for you fellas.”
In case you were wondering, Proverbs 27:17 states, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” Hambrecht’s gym offers a place “where men step back into brotherhood — where friction is welcomed, accountability is normal and growth is expected.”
Um, OK!
Reaction to men-only gyms for the bros
Despite appearing in Baptist News, the opinion piece was actually wary of such gyms. Writer Rick Pidcock suggests such establishments promote the idea that women are dangerous and need to be separated from men.
When shared online, the internet predictably had its own thoughts. Many said it all sounded very reminiscent of the gyms at the Y.M.C.A (Young Men’s Christian Association). And we all know nothing lustful ever went on there, right?
On an unrelated, far-more-inspiring note, a post on Threads over the weekend also addressed the topic of going to the gym. However, in this instance, it asked people to share what motivated them to keep working consistently at the gym.
Funnily enough, no one said they went to stare at other gym goers. Most people were motivated by genuine health concerns related to aging, or simply because they enjoyed seeing their body change through hard work.
“All the straight guys are wearing short shorts now.”
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David Hudson is a contributing editor to Queerty who specializes in film, music, health, travel and queer culture. Connect with him on X and Bluesky and DM him with potential story ideas.
One December afternoon, I arrived in Patagonia with a big blue backpack, a small bilingual edition of Pablo Neruda’s love poems, and a broken heart. (Though a heart, of course, never breaks.) The moment I stepped out of the airplane, the Andes towered over me like the stone thrones of gods, snow-capped over the oracle eye of the glacial lake, blue as Uranus, their scale so incomprehensible you are no longer a person but a particle, a mote of dust in the eye of eternity; the trees are no longer trees but moss carpeting the slopes all the way down to the water’s edge, as if to test the limits of their world. I had come to test the limits of mine.
As soon as I settled into the house where I was going to be living, I headed out for a walk along the dirt road so dry it felt like a lunar landscape. Cars swarmed me in cloud after cloud of gas and dust. I closed my eyes to let them pass, picturing the Pillars of Creation — that famous Hubble photograph of the Eagle Nebula, whose gas and dust are always in the process of creating new stars while at the same time being consumed by the light of nearby newborn stars.
Pillars of Creation (Hubble Space Telescope / NASA)
I hadn’t been walking an hour when the sky turned to steel. Without a flash of warning, the clouds opened their mute mouths and out poured rain so cold that time seemed to have reversed course, hurling the hemisphere back into winter.
It rained all night and all through the next day. Eventually, unable to stand my indoor captivity, I donned all the clothes I had packed on top of each other, squeezed myself into the raincoat now two sizes too small, and ventured out again. But when I stepped onto the street, I found it completely transformed, all the dust washed away to reveal a carpet of stones so shiny they were almost luminous.
Suddenly, my eye fell upon a striking stone unlike all the rest — swirling shades of green, resembling the skin of some exotic serpent.
That the Earth decided to make something this beautiful, when it could have just gone on making granite, felt like a miracle — the miracle of all those things unnecessary to survival, like music, like love, that give meaning to being alive.
As soon as I returned to the house, I turned to the geological database to learn that it is a type of stone called serpentine, special not only in its aesthetics but in its origin: Serpentine forms at the bottom of the ocean, in the hydrothermal vents along mid-oceanic ridges, where life on Earth most probably began. Under the the extreme temperature and pressure, water compacts four minerals into metamorphic rock that combine to give it this striking green color.
There I was, atop this massive mountain, holding a tiny fragment from the bottom of the world — a beautiful souvenir from the beginning of life, a bright reminder that time makes and remakes worlds.
I started seeing serpentine everywhere.
About a week in, I came home to astonishing news: For about a decade, NASA had been studying the asteroid Bennu, which orbits the Sun a hundred million miles away from it, between Jupiter and Mars, and passes close to Earth every six years. One of the first asteroids to have dust and rock samples collected and returned to Earth, Bennu’s mineral composition turned out to be dominated by serpentine, containing not only all amino acids essential for DNA and RNA but water-soluble phosphates — fundaments of biochemistry for all known life on Earth.
Bennu sample return capsule (NASA)
The most astonishing part is that because an asteroid has no atmosphere, no liquid water can cling to its surface, but serpentine requires water to form — Bennu must be a fragment of a water world that formed in the outer reaches of the Solar System in the infant universe, when the building blocks of life as we know it were being forged. A giant piece of serpentine encoding the entire evolutionary history of the universe.
Suddenly, against this immense backdrop of the majesty and mystery of the universe, I was no longer in the wound — I was in wonder. It is the self that suffers by the story that cinches the moment. Every act of unselfing — of contacting the interconnectedness of everything that ever was and ever will be, the wondrous totality held in time — is a salve for suffering, a way of being reborn.
Somehow, I found myself thinking about the cosmic egg concept present in many indigenous origin myths — the idea that the universe was hatched into being by a giant bird — and pictured the egg made of serpentine, a newborn world made of time and trust in life.
And so, enlisting a rock tumbler and my ceramics practice, I made it — a translucent sphere of serpentine with a small yellow ceramic bird perched atop it, winged with the words TRUST and TIME.
Because a daily creative practice is a consecration of the indestructible in us and a technology for trusting time, I began making one serpentine birdworld each day for forty-two days, with the intention of giving them away on my forty-second birthday (which is today) by the same impartial hand of chance that made this world, to people who have made my life more livable — some to pillars of my private world, and the rest to you: Support from readers makes my life literally livable by putting food on my table and books on my shelves, yes, but also contributes to what makes it worth living — that lifeline of connection that punctures the isolation of our personal suffering.
To enter the raffle, make a donation by the astronomical end of summer in any amount that is right for you, but end it with the decimal .42, whether it is $1.42 or $1,000.42. (This will help me separate the serpentine raffle from the regular donations.) Let us favor morality over mathematics — no manipulation of probability by making multiple entries: just one per person, so we may remember that we are all equals as children of chance.
As to my daily practice of learning to trust time, somewhere along the way of making these serpentine birdworlds, I crossed the threshold between wound and wonder, and my heart began healing. We don’t choose our wounds. But we can choose to wing ourselves with wonder. It is what makes this rocky planet a world and this existence a life.
The St. Louis Commune of 1877 was a brief worker-led uprising, marked by the first general strike in U.S. history and the temporary control of a major American city by socialist and communist organizers. [1, 2]
Key Events of the Uprising
The Great Railroad Strike: Grew out of national wage cuts in July 1877, spreading quickly to St. Louis, Missouri, where thousands of multiracial industrial and transport workers shut down local commerce. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
Workers’ Leadership: The Marxist Workingmen’s Party helped direct the movement, setting up an executive committee that functioned as a temporary municipal authority. [1, 2, 3]
City Control: For about a week, the coalition maintained public order, negotiated work terms, and paralyzed standard capitalist operations before federal troops and local militias suppressed the movement. [1, 2, 3]
Every mind, even the greatest, is a product of its time and place. The true visionaries are those unwilling to mistake the figments of their culture for facts; those daring enough to look at the world not through the microscope that magnifies the concerns of the present, not through the telescope that squints at the distant reaches of the future, but through a periscope that rises above the surface of the mainstream to see past the horizon of the era’s givens, into the possibilities of times to come.
As a young man raised in a deeply religious era, homeschooled by his strict pastor father, George Forster (November 27, 1754–January 10, 1794) would write to his youngest sister that happiness is only to be found through proximity with God, that God is “boundless love that transcends all other love.” Over the course of his short and periscopic life, he would come to see that God is just another word for nature; he would come to see that nature in all its “active living power” as a “magic net of countless threads joined by countless knots, where each thing is connected to all and all to each” — the ultimate “system of divine concordance.”
Left: barnacles on a crab shell. Right: Trifid and Lagoon nebulae (Vera Rubin Observatory).
By seeing the profound interleaving of life, he would also see the dangerous delusion of our artificial divisions — between the races and the sexes, between the body and the mind, between the observer and the observed. He would incubate these ideas — radical now, nothing less than revolutionary then — as a young unknown naturalist on James Cook’s voyages into the South Seas and would go on to seed them in the most fertile scientific mind of his epoch. “I have spent half a century, wherever a restless, eventful life has taken me,” Alexander von Humboldt would reflect at the end of his long and far-reaching life, ” telling myself and others what I owe to my teacher and friend Georg Forster.”
Andrea Wulf animates the life of this forgotten visionary in The Traveler: One Man’s Quest for Humanity from the South Seas to Revolutionary Paris (public library) — one of those rare books in which a single life, rendered with rigor and compassion in all its delicate particularity, becomes a lens for the best in human nature: our passion for the possible, our stubborn refusal to resign ourselves to the system, our bottomless capacity for kindness.
George Forster
Nowhere was Forster more visionary, more ahead of his time and still ahead of ours, than in his defiance of Descartes, refusing to reduce intelligence to the workings of the rational mind, refusing to reduce wonder to a calculation. His long-ago lamentation rattles the bones of the modern mind still haunted by the Cartesian delusion that intelligence is a thing only of the mind:
Never before has there been a greater danger of elevating cold reason into a universally worshipped idol at the expense of feeling.
Wulf shades in the subtleties of his radicalism:
George Forster observed with both his mind and his heart, determined to “banish all rash hypotheses back into their small closet.” The emphasis he placed on feeling rather than reason and objectivity stood in contrast to many (but not all) Enlightenment thinkers who valued rational enquiry, repeatable experiments and empirical observation over emotions and subjectivity… He dismissed what he called the reliance on reason alone — these “aberrations of the mind.” He believed that “in the sharply defined forms of abstraction, all that is good, noble and great… is irretrievably lost.”
Forster yearned to know the inner life of nature, which is the crux of all science, but he came to know it with more than the mind. He moved through the world with the virtuosic noticing of a poet, opening his full creaturely sensorium to the breadth of wonder between the wildflowers and the stars. An epoch before quantum mechanics implicated the observer in the observed, bending the central dogma of science and its dream of objectivity, before philosopher Martha Nussbaum insisted that “emotions are not just the fuel that powers the psychological mechanism of a reasoning creature [but] parts, highly complex and messy parts, of this creature’s reasoning itself,” George Forster implicated himself, a reasoning creature of feeling, in the discoveries he recounted in A Voyage Round the World — his unprecedented rendering of nature not as a series of discreet portraits of particular features framed by particular disciplines but as a vast panorama of processes and phenomena inseparable from one another and from our participancy in them: humus and history, climate and culture.
Wulf writes:
George believed that you had to see the world in order to understand it. There was no point in trying to make sense of everything in your study, he explained, “because in the end, one has nothing else than what comes through these two small openings in your eyes and sets the vibrations of the brain in motion!” Individual experience was indispensable. “Two travellers,” he wrote, “seldom saw the same object in the same manner, and each reported the fact differently, according to his sensations, and his peculiar mode of thinking.” … Unlike most of his contemporaries, George believed that reason alone was not enough to understand the world. That didn’t mean that he diminished the value of observation, but he had no interest in simply collecting data — being “a mere compiler… that I cannot do.” Those thinkers who worshipped cold evidence alone “had their wish; facts were collected in all parts of the world, and yet knowledge was not increased.” Years later he would explain that “the first point from which all knowledge is gained is based on Empfindung” — a German term that can be translated as “sensations,” though it is more nuanced as it not only refers to the physical senses but also implies a capacity to feel and an awareness of a subjective experience of the world.
Emanating from his visionary book was the fundamental feature of his visionary life: his love of nature and his love of humanity, entwined beyond separation — a living testament to the single answer pulsating beneath all of our questions. Forster’s own exuberant words reveal a thinker unafraid to feel, a mind lucid enough to know that love is our highest form of knowledge:
I thank God that there is such a delicious thing as human love in this world; it lifts us up; it chains us to each other, no matter how distant we are; it is the most comforting, happiest feeling in the world!
I believe that some of us dedicated to experimental spirituality and mind metaphysics must attempt to theorise the mechanics and delivery systems behind what we experience and observe. There exist, of course, manifold risks of personal bias toward a favoured thesis. But to limit the wish to “know thyself” to clinical study is to eviscerate the principle itself. This is my effort to describe “what happens” in the process of thought causation or what is popularly, though inadequately, called positive thinking or manifestation.
Everyone hates The Secret. Mainline cultural commentators and “serious” spiritual seekers routinely resurrect the nearly 20-year-old work for excoriation, presumably allowing H.L. Mencken (1880–1956) to sleep undisturbed after writing the first “take down” piece on mind metaphysics more than a century ago. In 1910, the Bard of Baltimore wrote in “Mental Vibrations”:
The New Thought, that fantastic magic, goes marching on… There is, in brief, little if any truth in the belief that good wishes may be transformed into objective phenomena, that mind influences matter – and little, even, in the belief that mind influences mind.
To today’s cutting-edge rationalists who would lift our spiritual blinkers: we’ve been there.
Mapping a Theory of Thought Causation
My task in this article is neither to defend alternative spirituality nor enumerate its flaws – of which I write often – but rather to consider why, from a spiritual or extra-physical perspective, positive thinking, “manifestation,” or the “Law of Attraction” just might work. Before you cry confirmation bias! (materialism’s equivalent of lock her up!), take a beat.
Neville Goddard (1905–1972)
I venture to map a seeker’s theory of mind causation – but one that also stands defensible within parameters of accepted (if not always understood) knowledge. My theory may be wrong. It may be grossly incomplete. But I believe that those of us engaged in the search for practical spirituality must at least attempt to theorise from the intersection of testimony, science, and experience. Each generation owes the labour of verification to the search of the next, which will have its own ideas and critiques.
Indeed, today’s seekers must move beyond inherited decisions and templates. We need our own experiments and results, including failures. Those of us who care about New Thought, or mind causation, owe the spiritual culture – and ourselves – a supportable hypothesis of how it works. We must be equally willing to discard cherished hypotheses. In that vein, I conclude this essay with articles of personal experimentation.
I start by quoting mystic Neville Goddard (1905–1972) from a 1948 series of lectures in Los Angeles:
Scientists will one day explain why there is a serial universe. But in practice, how you use this serial universe to change the future is more important.
It was a striking observation. The mononymous Neville is, I believe, the most penetrating voice to emerge from New Thought tradition – because it was not until years later that quantum physicists began discussing the many-worlds theory, devised by physicist Hugh Everett III (1930–1982) in 1957.
A Short Overview of Quantum Physics
Everett was attempting to make sense of some of the extraordinary findings that had been occurring for about three decades in quantum mechanics. For example, scientists are able to demonstrate, through various interference patterns, that a subatomic particle occupies a wave state or state of superposition – that is, an infinite number of places – until a sentient observer or automatised device takes a measurement: it is only when measurement is taken that the particle collapses, so to speak, from a wave state into a localised state. At that point, it occupies a definite, identifiable, measurable place. Before measurement is taken, however, the localised particle exists only in potential.
Now, I have just about squeezed all of quantum physics into a couple of sentences. I think it is an accurate description, but obviously I am reducing huge complexities into the dimensions of a marble. I believe I am faithfully stating what has been observed in the last ninety-plus years of particle experiments (as well as emerging experiments on larger objects, such as hydrogen molecules). We are seeing that on the subatomic scale matter does not behave as we are conditioned to expect.
Measurement & Observation: The Role of Mind
Starting about twenty years ago, it became fashionable for New Agers and laypeople, like me, to put quantum theory at the back of cherished spiritual principles. It became equally fashionable for professional sceptics and mainstream journalists to pushback, crying B.S. and sophistry. That position, while still heard, has quieted. Not because sceptics have grown more pensive or attenuated to media-speak, but because the proposition of mind-over-matter, strange as it may seem, now resounds in debates on theoretical physics in mainline journals and magazines.
In 2009, I attended a presentation on the “quantum measurement problem” delivered by parapsychologist Dean Radin before an audience of scientists, social thinkers, and scholars of religion. I asked Radin to address the 800-pound gorilla in the room: If observation and perspective alter material on a micro level, in the world of waves and particles, might that say something about the legitimacy of the New Thought or mind-power thesis? “It’s not complete bullshit,” Radin replied. “There may be an inkling of something to it.” Another physicist and longtime military researcher was also present. “As the resident sceptic,” he said, “I concur.”
Our understanding of matter in our macro world generally comes from measuring things through our five senses and experiencing them as singularities. There is one table. It is solid and definable. It is not occupying an infinite number of spaces. But contemporary quantum physicists have theorised that we may not normally see or experience superposition phenomena because of what is sometimes called information leakage.
This means that we gain or lose data based on fineness of measurement. When you measure things with exquisitely well-tuned instruments, like a microscope, you see more and more of what is going on, i.e., actual reality. But when you pan the camera back, so to speak, your measurements coarsen and you see less and less of what is actually happening. To cite the most basic example, to all ordinary appearances, a table is solid. The floor beneath your feet is solid. Where you are sitting is solid. But measuring through atomic-scale microscopes, we realise that if you go deeper and deeper, space appears within these objects. Particles make up the atom and still greater space appears. We do not experience that; we experience solidity. But no one questions that space prevails among particles composing an atom.
Furthermore, we possess decades of data demonstrating that when subatomic particles are directed at a target system, such as a double slit, they appear in infinite places at once until a measurement is made; only then does locality exist. But we fail to see this unless we are measuring things with comparative exactitude. Hence, what I am describing seems unreal based on lived experience – but it is actual.
In any event, my supposition is this: if particles appear in an infinite number of places at once until a measurement is taken; and if, as we know from studying the behaviour and mechanics of subatomic particles, there exists an infinitude of possibilities; and if we know, as we have since the inception of Einstein’s theories, that time is relative, then it is possible to reason – and it is almost necessary to reason – that linearity itself, by which we organise our lives, is illusory.
Linearity is a useful and necessary device for five-sensory beings to get through life; but it does not stand up objectively. Linearity is conceptual – a subjective interpretation of what is really going on. It is not reflected in Einstein’s theory of relativity, which demonstrates that time slows for an object approaching the speed of light. (The individual travelling in a metaphorical spaceship at or near light speed experiences time slowing, not from their perspective but in comparison to those not at near light speed. And this is no mere thought exercise: space travellers in our era, although they are obviously approaching nowhere near that velocity, experience minute effects of time reduction.) Nor is linearity reflected in quantum mechanics, where particles appear in an infinitude of places and obey no orderly modality. Linearity is not replicated when measurement of a particle serves to localise the appearance or existence of the object.
This begins to clarify why Einstein famously wrote in a letter of March 1955:
People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.
If we pursue this line of thought further – and this is where Everett’s many-worlds theory comes into play – the very decision to take a measurement (or not take one) not only localises a particle but creates a past, present, and future for that particle. Hence, an observer’s decision to log a measurement creates a multidimensional reality for the particle.
There exists debate over whether a device represents a method of measurement distinct from an observer, as well as whether the “collapse” from wave to particle results from an observer’s individual psyche or “transpersonal mind behaving according to natural laws,” as observed by Bernardo Kastrup, Henry P. Stapp, and Menas C. Kafatos in a May 29, 2018, Scientific American article “Coming to Grips with the Implications of Quantum Mechanics.” This transpersonal mind, the writers continue, “comprises but far transcends any individual psyche,” a description similar to the Hermetic concept of Nous or an over-mind. The authors compellingly argue that even if a device is used for measurement – and thus localisation – perception and intent, either of the individual, the meta-mind, or both, remains the determining force.
Schrödinger’s Cat
Multidimensional reality is implied in the famous thought experiment called Schrödinger’s Cat. 20th-century physicist Erwin Schrödinger (1887–1961) was frustrated with the evident absurdity of quantum theory, which showed objects simultaneously appearing in more than one place at a time. Such an outlook, he felt, violated all commonly observed physical laws. In 1935, Schrödinger sought to highlight this predicament through a purposely absurdist thought experiment, which he intended to force quantum physicists to follow their data to its ultimate degree.
Schrödinger reasoned that quantum data dictates that a sentient being, such as a cat, can be simultaneously alive and dead. Here is a variant of the Schrödinger’s Cat experiment: a cat is placed into one of a pair of boxes. Along with the cat is a collar fitted with a device which, if exposed to an atom, releases a deadly poison. An observer then fires an atom at the boxes. The observer subsequently uses some form of measurement to check which box the atom is in: the empty one or the one with the cat and the poisoning device. When the observer goes to check, the wave function of the atom (the state in which it exists in both boxes) collapses into a particle function (the state in which it is localised to one box). Once the observer takes his measurement, convention says that the cat will be discovered to be dead or alive. But Schrödinger reasoned that quantum physics describes an outcome in which the cat is both dead and alive. This is because the atom, in its wave function, was, at one time, in either box, and either outcome is real.
Of course, all lived experience tells us that if the atom went into the empty box, the cat is alive; and if it went into the box with the cat and the poisoning device, the cat is dead. But Schrödinger, aiming to highlight the frustrations of quantum theory, argued that if the observations of quantum-mechanics experiments are right, you would have to allow for each outcome.
To take it even further, many-worlds theorists in the 1950s posited that if an observer waited some significant length of time – say, eight hours – before checking on the dead-alive cat, he would discover one cat that was dead for eight hours and another that was alive for eight hours (and now hungry). In this line of reasoning, conscious observation effectively manifested the localised atom, the dead cat, and the living cat – and also manifested the past, or in other words, created a history for both a dead cat and a living one. Both outcomes are true.
So, whatever a particle is doing, the very fact that a sentient observer has chosen to take a measurement at that time, place, moment, and juncture creates a whole past, present, and future – an infinitude of outcomes. A divergent set of outcomes would exist if that measurement were never taken. A divergent set of outcomes would also exist if that measurement were taken one second later, or five minutes later, or tomorrow. And what is tomorrow? When particles exist in superposition until somebody takes a measurement, there is no such thing as tomorrow, other than subjectively.
Consider too: the cat, from its perspective, is local; the observer, from its perspective, is local – but both, in fact, are in a wave state or superposition. We can speak of them as concrete, singular beings only from their personal perspective. From the quantum perspective, they are infinite. Expanding on this idea, research physician Robert Lanza, adjunct professor at Wake Forest University School of Medicine, argues that death itself is ultimately a mental phenomenon: we “die” only insofar as an observer perceives demise; the consciousness of the “deceased” branches off into one of Everett’s many worlds. (This begs the question of who experiences these effects if there’s no such thing as “one” person/life. I consider this in my book Daydream Believer.)
And what, finally, are our five senses but a technology by which we measure things? Are our five senses anything other than a biological technology, not necessarily different in intake from a camera, photometer, digital recorder, or microscope? So, it is possible that within reality – within this extra-linear, super-positioned infinitude of possibilities in which we are taking measurements – we experience things based upon our perspective. This is why in considering mind causation I use the term select rather than manifest.
Neville Goddard: Thoughts Have Wings
Here, we return to mystic Neville Goddard. His instinct was, I believe, correct in the schema just considered. Neville taught that you can take a measurement by employing the visualising forces of your imagination. You are taking a measurement within the infinitude of possible outcomes. The measurement localises or actualises the thing itself.
In the 1948 lectures quoted earlier, Neville further noted:
Man can prove the existence of a dimensionally larger world by simply focusing his attention on an invisible state and imagining that he sees and feels it. If he remains concentrated in this state, his present environment will pass away, and he will awaken in a dimensionally larger world where the object of his contemplation will be seen as a concrete objective reality.
I feel intuitively that, were he to abstract his thoughts from this dimensionally larger world and retreat still farther within his mind, he would again bring about an externalisation of time. He would discover that, every time he retreats into his inner mind and brings about an externalisation of time, space becomes dimensionally larger. And he would therefore conclude that both time and space are serial, and that the drama of life is but the climbing of a multitudinous dimensional time block.
Again, note how foresightful Neville’s ideas and language proved of the many-worlds theory.
Aleister Crowley, the confounding and brilliant British occultist and artist, made a statement related to Neville’s. Writing in the introduction to his 1904 channelled text The Book of the Law – later published in a general edition in 1938 – Crowley observed:
Each of us has thus an universe of his own, but it is the same universe for each one as soon as it includes all possible experience. This implies the extension of consciousness to include all other consciousnesses. In our present stage, the object that you see is never the same as the one that I see; we infer that it is the same because your experience tallies with mine on so many points that the actual differences of our observation are negligible… Yet all the time neither of us can know anything… at all beyond the total impression made on our respective minds.
Neville’s formula is simplicity itself: an assumption, if persisted in, hardens into fact. But the assumption must be persuasive; it must be convincing. That is why emotions and feeling states must come into play. And Neville observed that you can use hypnagogia – the state of cognizant pre-sleep or drowsy relaxation – to help facilitate that process.
Hypnagogia naturally occurs twice daily: just prior to and following sleep. It is a period of hallucinatory sentience during which we are nonetheless capable of controlling attention; what’s more, your rational defences are lowered. This can be considered “prime time” to visualise a desired end. (Hypnagogia is also a period of heightened ESP-related activity, as recorded in academic psychical research.)
Another way of using Neville’s approach to mental creativity is to enter an inner state of theatrical or childlike make-believe. Not childish but childlike: a state of internal wonder and pretending. Children excel at this. We grow embarrassed about this quality as we age, but Neville spoke ingenuously about walking the streets of Manhattan imagining that he was in the treelined lanes of his native Barbados, boarding a ship to some desired destination, or in a location where he wanted to be.
He would say: “Unfoldment will come. You will see.” Again, he argued that an assumption, although false, if persisted in, eventually hardens into fact. He further advised, “Assume the state of the wish fulfilled. Live from the end.” Remember, the teacher reminded listeners, you are not in a state of wanting; you are in a state of having received. Your aim is simply to occupy the emotional and mental condition that you would experience following fulfilment.
Of course, you must also continue to go about your adult life in this world of Caesar, currency, and commerce – fulfilling your obligations and remaining accountable. You must cooperate with the world. You must do the normative things that life requires. The crisis of the New Age is the inability of an outsized number of its adherents to abide this. In my observation, until a person demonstrates accountability, competency, and agency in outer life, the spiritual path is a diversion, possibly a disastrous one.
Should you accept this challenge, how long will it take to witness your desired changes in outer life? How long is required for outer life to conform to your internal focus, your act of living “from the end” of your ideal? The question of time intervals is deeply fraught because with all the stresses that life throws at us, it is very difficult to adopt a feeling state and stick with it for weeks. At times, psychological barriers and stresses make it impossible.
Neville noted that there could fall a substantial time interval between your visioning and experience of the wished-for state or thing. He would point out that the gestation period of a human life is nine months. The gestation period of a horse is eleven months. The gestation period of a lamb is five months. The gestation period of a chick is twenty-one days. There is almost always going to be some time interval. You will find that naturalness of persistence comports with depth of passion for your aim. It can appear more a matter of the aim holding you than you it. This is one reason why clarity of aim and self-honesty are essential: we follow emotions, acknowledged or not.
Careful What You Wish For
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) made an interesting observation in this vein. We have all heard the expression, “Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it.” It is rooted in Goethe. Taking a leaf from the philosopher and dramatist’s play Faust (c.1772–1775),Ralph Waldo Emerson noted this dynamic in his 1860 essay “Fate,” which led to the popular adage. Emerson wrote:
And the moral is that what we seek we shall find; what we flee from flees from us; as Goethe said, “what we wish for in youth, comes in heaps on us in old age,” too often cursed with the granting of our prayer: and hence the high caution, that, since we are sure of having what we wish, we must beware to ask only for high things.
We are being warned to act with perspective: what we wish for when we are young will visit us in waves when we are old.
Goethe’s observation relates to Neville’s remarks about the perceived passage of time and the gestation between thought and actualisation. Many people would reasonably object that they have all kinds of unfulfilled wishes. But unlocking the truth of this observation requires peeling back the layers of your mind and probing formative images and fantasies from when you were very young.
What is the earliest dream you recall from when you first gained conscious memories, maybe at age three or four? What fantasies occupied your earliest recollective years? Children lead very intense fantasy lives, even at ages four or five. If you take Goethe’s counsel, you might be surprised – barring extreme countervailing events (to which I return) – to discover remarkable symmetry between things you are living out today and concepts you harboured when very young. These can be positive, negative, or numerous stations between.
Neville recommended against thinking in terms of, “It will happen this way” or, “I’ll do something to make it happen.” His attitude was that the event will unfold in its own natural manner. In his system, your job is not to draw the map – it is to live from the destination.
I must, finally, add a word about suffering on both an intimate and global scale. New Thought has proven woefully inadequate in addressing matters of implacable tragedy and catastrophe, a topic on which I’ve written widely.
My contention is that even if awareness or consciousness is the ultimate arbiter of existence, we still experience many different laws and forces within the physical framework we know. I used to say that we live under many different laws and forces; I’m not sure if that’s entirely right. But we certainly experience diffuse laws and forces, and these experiences are hard-baked into us.
So, it stands to reason that even if emotive thought, perspective, and awareness are determinative of what reality gets concretised into our individual experiences, there exist different laws and possibilities that are also playing out at the same time. There are physical facts which also form part of the nature of our experience within the framework that we find ourselves. And it could be that there are other frameworks in which our psyches are much freer. There may be frameworks in which we experience fewer laws and forces that seem to interrupt a sense of continuity between you, the individual – you, the seeker – and that which you experience.
That said, suffering and catastrophe must, for every ethical being, be understood as fundamental, urgent, and, where possible and according to personal conviction, requiring of amelioration and solidarity.
I believe that Neville is going to be remembered – and is already seen today – as having created the most elegant mystical analogue to quantum physics.
When I started writing about Neville in 2005 – the first journalistic coverage of his life since the 1940s – he was a figure of obscurity even among most New Thoughters. But today Neville’s voice and work net millions of results in search engines. At a 2022 tech conference, I was floored by the number of programmers and engineers (not the usual suspects) who approached me to talk about him.
As seen, Neville espoused a variant of the many-worlds theory long before the popularisation of quantum physics. Indeed, he had a series of remarkable instincts in the 1940s that have since been tantalisingly, if indirectly, reiterated by quantum theorists – most of whom have not (yet) heard his name.
Indeed, it would not surprise me if, within a generation, some physics students begin to read Neville as a philosophical adjunct to their work. That may seem a stretch, but remember that many of today’s senior cohort of physicists, people in positions of academic and grant-making authority, were inspired by Star Trek, Arthur C. Clarke,and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. There is visibly greater openness in the field today to matters of perspective and thought causation.
As I’ve suggested, you can use several different techniques in connection with Neville’s ideas, including those of your own devising: I challenge you to try them and see what happens. You are entitled to results. I believe that every therapeutic, ethical, or spiritual philosophy should produce some concrete and desired change in your life and conduct; if it does not, then such an idea warrants no hold on you.
I feel similarly that the ability to observe and note an outcome in your life is vitally important. Testimony forms a critical source of ideas, a meaningful record, and a warranted inducement to others.
We all live by philosophies, spoken or not. Even if we say we do not have an ideology, we obviously harbour assumptions by which we navigate life. When I look back on figures like Neville or pioneering parapsychologist J.B. Rhine (1895–1980), I realise that their greatness is that they lived by the inner light of their ideas. That is rare. We are a world of talkers. People are sarcastic or cruel over Twitter and think they are taking a principled stand. Is it courageous or honourable for a keyboard warrior (often under a pseudonym) to call out people online? That is no victory. It is make-believe morality.
When we look back on iconic figures in the social, cultural, artistic, or spiritual milieu, we remember those few who lived by the inner light of conviction; who struggled to comport their ideals with conduct. Such private philosophies are the only ones that last. Indeed, if you cannot keep your word, apologise, demonstrate solidarity or loyalty, then write nothing of an ethical or spiritual bent. You’ll be writing on sand.
I must state the following and I mean it in my heart: if you sincerely attempt what I am theorising in this article, I believe that you will find greatness; because, if nothing else, you will be attempting to live by the inner light of an idea. Try.
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About the Author
Mitch Horowitz is a PEN Award-winning historian, writer, and lecturer who explores the intersections of metaphysics, ethics, and self-transformation. His books include Occult America, The Miracle Club, Modern Occultism, Daydream Believer, and Practical Magick. Mitch is featured in Critics’ Choice-nominated and Sundance-premiering films, as well as numerous television shows. David Lynch: “Mitch is solid gold.” https://www.mitchhorowitz.com
Back in my advertising days there was a campaign I got well and truly stuck on. I’d been at it the better part of a week, index cards spread across my desk, crumpled legal-pad pages on the floor, the deadline coming at me like weather. Nothing worked. The harder I pushed, the worse it got.
So one night I gave up, went home, slept, and somewhere around five the next morning I woke with the whole thing assembled in my head, clean and obvious, as though somebody had quietly solved it while I wasn’t looking.
I’d love to tell you I was brilliant. The truth is I just got out of the way. These days, a lot of my writing works out that way, too.
If you’ve ever done creative work of any kind, or really any kind of work at all, you know that feeling. The click. The penny dropping. The thing the Germans and the psychologists both call the “aha.” And until recently we didn’t have much idea what was actually happening in the brain at that moment.
Now we’re starting to.
Last year a team at Duke ran people through a clever little puzzle while watching their brains in a scanner. They used what are called Mooney images, those high-contrast black-and-white blotches that look like nothing at all until, suddenly, you see the hidden object, a face, a dog, a guitar, and then you can never un-see it. That instant of recognition is a tiny, pure aha.
And what the scientists found is that in that instant the brain literally reorganizes how it represents the image. The pattern of activity in the visual regions doesn’t just take in more of the same information; it rearranges into a whole new configuration. They call it representational change.
At that same moment, the hippocampus and the amygdala also light up, the brain’s memory and emotion centers, which is part of why a real insight feels so good and tends to stick. In fact, the solutions that arrived in a flash were remembered about twice as well as the ones people ground out step by step.
And here’s the part that’s really amazing: newer research has looked at how we have these aha moments while we’re following a story or making sense of unfolding events, and found that just before the insight lands, the brain reaches back and reinstates older memories, the patterns of earlier, causally related things we’d already taken in.
The insight isn’t new material flooding in from outside. It’s the mind suddenly connecting pieces it was already holding, reaching into its own past and rearranging what was there into a shape that finally makes sense.
The breakthrough you’re waiting for usually isn’t out there somewhere. It’s already inside your head, in pieces, waiting for you to stop griping long enough to let them rearrange.
Now, if you’ve spent any time around the world I came up in, this is going to sound familiar, because people have been pointing at this truth for the better part of a century, just without the scanners. I teach Neuro-Linguistic Programming, and one of its most powerful tools is something we call reframing.
You take an experience that’s locked into a single meaning, a failure, a rejection, a humiliation, and you deliberately visualize or use a story to put it inside a different frame, and the feeling attached to it shifts, sometimes in an instant.
For years the skeptics waved that off as a parlor trick. But look again at what the Duke team found: an insight is, at the level of neurons, a reframe. It’s the same information held in a new configuration.
Reframing works because it’s doing on purpose the very thing your brain does on its own in a flash of insight.
Go back further and you find the same intuition everywhere. Earl Nightingale built a whole career on a single sentence: “we become what we think about.” Claude Bristol wrote a little book in 1948 called The Magic of Believing, and Dale Carnegie was teaching ordinary people to change their lives by changing the frame around their worries long before that.
Some of that old positive-thinking literature curdled into magical nonsense, the notion that you can simply wish a parking space or a fortune into existence, and I’ve got no patience for that. But underneath the hype was a real observation that the science now confirms: the frame you hold something in determines what you’re able to see, and shifting that frame can genuinely rearrange your inner world.
Those guys had the truth. They just didn’t have the fMRI.
So what do we do with all this, practically? A few things, and not one of them costs a dime.
First, when you’re truly stuck, stop pushing. The aha tends to arrive after you step back, not during the white-knuckle grind, because the brain needs a little slack to do its rearranging. Sleep on it. Take a walk. Get in the shower. (There’s a reason for that cliché.)
Second, feed the machine. Insight reaches back into what you already know, so the wider and richer your store of raw material, the more pieces it has to connect. Read outside your lane. Stay curious about things that aren’t useful to you yet.
Third, when something knocks you flat, before you accept the first frame your mind hands you, try another one on. Ask what else this could mean. Ask what it might be here to teach you. You’re not lying to yourself when you do that. You’re doing deliberately what your brain was built to do anyway.
There’s something quietly hopeful in all of this, I think. We tend to assume our answers have to come from somewhere else, an expert, a guru, a better set of circumstances down the road.
But the science keeps pointing back inward. You’re already carrying around almost everything you need. The work isn’t acquiring more of it. It’s getting quiet enough, and brave enough about your frames, to let what’s already in there fall into place.
It bears repeating that what makes life livable is our ability — our willingness — to move through the world wonder-smitten by reality. The most wonderful thing about wonder is that it knows no scale, no class, no category — it can be found in a geranium or in a galaxy, in the burble of a brook or in the Goldberg Variations. “A leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars,” wrote Walt Whitman, eternal patron saint of wonder.
With an eye to Goethe’s immortal line, Hesse writes:
Wonder is where it starts, and though wonder is also where it ends, this is no futile path. Whether admiring a patch of moss, a crystal, flower, or golden beetle, a sky full of clouds, a sea with the serene, vast sigh of its swells, or a butterfly wing with its arrangement of crystalline ribs, contours, and the vibrant bezel of its edges, the diverse scripts and ornamentations of its markings, and the infinite, sweet, delightfully inspired transitions and shadings of its colors — whenever I experience part of nature, whether with my eyes or another of the five senses, whenever I feel drawn in, enchanted, opening myself momentarily to its existence and epiphanies, that very moment allows me to forget the avaricious, blind world of human need, and rather than thinking or issuing orders, rather than acquiring or exploiting, fighting or organizing, all I do in that moment is “wonder,” like Goethe, and not only does this wonderment establish my brotherhood with him, other poets, and sages, it also makes me a brother to those wondrous things I behold and experience as the living world: butterflies and moths, beetles, clouds, rivers and mountains, because while wandering down the path of wonder, I briefly escape the world of separation and enter the world of unity.
But while we are born wakeful to wonder, our cultural conditioning and indoctrination — what we call our education — often schools us out of it. A century before scientists came to study the vitalizing psychology and physiology of enchantment, a century before our so-called liberal arts education had become the factory farming of the mind, Hesse laments:
Our universities fail to guide us down the easiest paths to wisdom… Rather than teaching a sense of awe, they teach the very opposite: counting and measuring over delight, sobriety over enchantment, a rigid hold on scattered individual parts over an affinity for the unified and whole. These are not schools of wisdom, after all, but schools of knowledge, though they take for granted that which they cannot teach — the capacity for experience, the capacity for being moved, the Goethean sense of wonderment.