Making Sense of What We Already Know…

Living Between Jobs and Life: AI, CERN, and Making Sense of What We Already Know

For decades (all of my life, basically :-)), I’ve lived with a quiet tension. On the one hand, there is the job: institutions, projects, deliverables, milestones, and what have you… On the other hand, there is life: curiosity, dissatisfaction, and the persistent feeling that something fundamental is still missing in how we understand the physical world. Let me refer to the latter as “the slow, careful machinery of modern science.” 🙂

These two are not the same — obviously — and pretending they are has done physics no favors (think of geniuses like Solvay, Edison or Tesla here: they were considered to be ‘only engineers’, right? :-/).

Jobs optimize. Life explores.

Large scientific institutions are built to do one thing extremely well: reduce uncertainty in controlled, incremental ways. That is not a criticism; it is a necessity when experiments cost billions, span decades, and depend on political and public trust. But the price of that optimization is that ontological questions — questions about what really exists — are often postponed, softened, or quietly avoided.

And now we find ourselves in a new historical moment.


The Collider Pause Is Not a Crisis — It’s a Signal

Recent reports that China is slowing down plans for a next-generation circular collider are not shocking. If anything, they reflect a broader reality:

For the next 40–50 years, we are likely to work primarily with the experimental data we already have.

That includes data from CERN that has only relatively recently been made fully accessible to the wider scientific community.

This is not stagnation. It is a change of phase.

For decades, theoretical physics could lean on an implicit promise: the next machine will decide. Higher energies, larger datasets, finer resolution — always just one more accelerator away. That promise is now on pause.

Which means something important:

We can no longer postpone understanding by outsourcing it to future experiments.


Why CERN Cannot Do What Individuals Can

CERN is a collective of extraordinarily bright individuals. But this is a crucial distinction:

A collective of intelligent people is not an intelligent agent.

CERN is not designed to believe an ontology. It is designed to:

  • build and operate machines of unprecedented complexity,
  • produce robust, defensible measurements,
  • maintain continuity over decades,
  • justify public funding across political cycles.

Ontology — explicit commitments about what exists and what does not — is structurally dangerous to that mission. Not because it is wrong, but because it destabilizes consensus.

Within a collective:

  • someone’s PhD depends on a framework,
  • someone’s detector was designed for a specific ontology,
  • someone’s grant proposal assumes a given language,
  • someone’s career cannot absorb “maybe the foundations are wrong.”

So even when many individuals privately feel conceptual discomfort, the group-level behavior converges to:
“Let’s wait for more data.”

That is not cowardice. It is inevitability.


We Are Drowning in Data, Starving for Meaning

The irony is that we are not short on data at all.

We have:

  • precision measurements refined to extraordinary accuracy,
  • anomalies that never quite go away,
  • models that work operationally but resist interpretation,
  • concepts (mass, spin, charge, probability) that are mathematically precise yet ontologically vague.

Quantum mechanics works. That is not in dispute.
What remains unresolved is what it means.

This is not a failure of experiment.
It is a failure of sense-making.

And sense-making has never been an institutional strength.


Where AI Actually Fits (and Where It Doesn’t)

I want to be explicit: I still have a long way to go in how I use AI — intellectually, methodologically, and ethically.

AI is not an oracle.
It does not “solve” physics.
It does not replace belief, responsibility, or judgment.

But it changes something fundamental.

AI allows us to:

  • re-analyze vast datasets without institutional friction,
  • explore radical ontological assumptions without social penalty,
  • apply sustained logical pressure without ego,
  • revisit old experimental results with fresh conceptual frames.

In that sense, AI is not the author of new physics — it is a furnace.

It does not tell us what to believe.
It forces us to confront the consequences of what we choose to believe.


Making Sense of What We Already Know

The most exciting prospect is not that AI will invent new theories out of thin air.

It is that AI may help us finally make sense of experimental data that has been sitting in plain sight for decades.

Now that CERN data is increasingly public, the bottleneck is no longer measurement. It is interpretation.

AI can help:

  • expose hidden assumptions in standard models,
  • test radical but coherent ontologies against known data,
  • separate what is measured from how we talk about it,
  • revisit old results without institutional inertia.

This does not guarantee progress — but it makes honest failure possible. And honest failure is far more valuable than elegant confusion.


Between Institutions and Insight

This is not an AI-versus-human story.

It is a human-with-tools story.

Institutions will continue to do what they do best: build machines, refine measurements, and preserve continuity. That work is indispensable.

But understanding — especially ontological understanding — has always emerged elsewhere:

  • in long pauses,
  • in unfashionable questions,
  • in uncomfortable reinterpretations of existing facts.

We are entering such a pause now.


A Quiet Optimism

I do not claim to have answers.
I do not claim AI will magically deliver them.
I do not even claim my current ideas will survive serious scrutiny.

What I do believe is this:

We finally have the tools — and the historical conditions — to think more honestly about what we already know.

That is not a revolution.
It is something slower, harder, and ultimately more human.

And if AI helps us do that — not by replacing us, but by challenging us — then it may turn out to be one of the most quietly transformative tools science has ever had.

Not because it solved physics.

But because it helped us start understanding it again.

The Corridor: How Humans and AI Learn to Think Together

A different kind of project — and one I did not expect to publish…

Over the past months, I have been in long-form dialogue with an AI system (ChatGPT 5.1 — “Iggy” in our exchanges). What began as occasional conversations gradually turned into something more structured: a genuine exploration of how humans and AI think together.

The result is now online as a working manuscript on ResearchGate:

👉 The Corridor: How Humans and AI Learn to Think Together.

This is not an AI-generated book in the usual sense, and certainly not a manifesto. I think of it as an experiment in hybrid (AI + HI) reasoning: a human’s intuition interacting with an AI’s structural coherence, each shaping the other. The book tries to map the very “corridor” where that collaboration becomes productive.

Whether you think of AI as a tool, a partner, or something entirely different, one thing is becoming clear: the quality of our future conversations will determine the quality of our decisions. This manuscript is simply one attempt to understand what that future dialogue might look like.

For those interested in the philosophy of intelligence, the sociology of science, or the emerging dynamics of human–AI collaboration — I hope you find something useful in it.

🧭 From Strangeness to Symbolism: Why Meaning Still Matters in Science

My interest in quantum theory didn’t come from textbooks. It came from a thirst for understanding — not just of electrons or fields, but of ourselves, our systems, and why we believe what we believe. That same motivation led me to write a recent article on LinkedIn questioning how the Nobel Prize system sometimes rewards storylines over substance. It’s not a rejection of science — it’s a plea to do it better.

This post extends that plea. It argues that motion — not metaphor — is what grounds our models. That structure is more than math. And that if we’re serious about understanding this universe, we should stop dressing up ignorance as elegance. Physics is beautiful enough without the mystery.

Indeed, in a world increasingly shaped by abstraction — in physics, AI, and even ethics — it’s worth asking a simple but profound question: when did we stop trying to understand reality, and start rewarding the stories we are being told about it?

🧪 The Case of Physics: From Motion to Metaphor

Modern physics is rich in predictive power but poor in conceptual clarity. Nobel Prizes have gone to ideas like “strangeness” and “charm,” terms that describe particles not by what they are, but by how they fail to fit existing models.

Instead of modeling physical reality, we classify its deviations. We multiply quantum numbers like priests multiplying categories of angels — and in doing so, we obscure what is physically happening.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

In our recent work on realQM — a realist approach to quantum mechanics — we return to motion. Particles aren’t metaphysical entities. They’re closed structures of oscillating charge and field. Stability isn’t imposed; it emerges. And instability? It’s just geometry breaking down — not magic, not mystery.

No need for ‘charm’. Just coherence.


🧠 Intelligence as Emergence — Not Essence

This view of motion and closure doesn’t just apply to electrons. It applies to neurons, too.

We’ve argued elsewhere that intelligence is not an essence, not a divine spark or unique trait of Homo sapiens. It is a response — an emergent property of complex systems navigating unstable environments.

Evolution didn’t reward cleverness for its own sake. It rewarded adaptability. Intelligence emerged because it helped life survive disequilibrium.

Seen this way, AI is not “becoming like us.” It’s doing what all intelligent systems do: forming patterns, learning from interaction, and trying to persist in a changing world. Whether silicon-based or carbon-based, it’s the same story: structure meets feedback, and meaning begins to form.


🌍 Ethics, Society, and the Geometry of Meaning

Just as physics replaced fields with symbolic formalism, and biology replaced function with genetic determinism, society often replaces meaning with signaling.

We reward declarations over deliberation. Slogans over structures. And, yes, sometimes we even award Nobel Prizes to stories rather than truths.

But what if meaning, like mass or motion, is not an external prescription — but an emergent resonance between system and context?

  • Ethics is not a code. It’s a geometry of consequences.
  • Intelligence is not a trait. It’s a structure that closes upon itself through feedback.
  • Reality is not a theory. It’s a pattern in motion, stabilized by conservation, disrupted by noise.

If we understand this, we stop looking for final answers — and start designing better questions.


✍️ Toward a Science of Meaning

What unifies all this is not ideology, but clarity. Not mysticism, but motion. Not inflation of terms, but conservation of sense.

In physics: we reclaim conservation as geometry.
In intelligence: we see mind as emergent structure.
In ethics: we trace meaning as interaction, not decree.

This is the work ahead: not just smarter machines or deeper theories — but a new simplicity. One that returns to motion, closure, and coherence as the roots of all we seek to know.

Meaning, after all, is not what we say.
It’s what remains when structure holds — and when it fails.

How I Co-Wrote a Quantum Physics Booklet with an AI — And Learned Something

In June 2025, I published a short booklet titled
A Realist Take on Quantum Theory — or the Shortest Introduction Ever.
📘 ResearchGate link

It’s just under 15 pages, but it distills over a decade of work — and a growing collaboration with ChatGPT — into a clean, consistent narrative: electrons as circulating charges, wavefunctions as cyclical descriptors, and action as the true guide to quantum logic.

We didn’t invent new equations. We reinterpreted existing ones — Schrödinger, Dirac, Klein–Gordon — through a realist lens grounded in energy cycles, geometry, and structured motion. What made this possible?

  • Memory: The AI reminded me of arguments I had made years earlier, even when I’d forgotten them.
  • Logic: It flagged weak spots, inconsistencies, and unclear transitions.
  • Humility: It stayed patient, never arrogant — helping me say what I already knew, but more clearly.
  • Respect: It never erased my voice. It helped me find it again.

The booklet is part of a broader project I call realQM. It’s an attempt to rescue quantum theory from the metaphorical language that’s haunted it since Bohr and Heisenberg — and bring it back to geometry, field theory, and physical intuition. If you’ve ever felt quantum physics was made deliberately obscure, this might be your antidote.

🧠 Sometimes, passing the Turing test isn’t about being fooled. It’s about being helped.

P.S. Since publishing that booklet, the collaboration took another step forward. We turned our attention to high-energy reactions and decay processes — asking how a realist, geometry-based interpretation of quantum mechanics (realQM) might reframe our understanding of unstable particles. Rather than invent new quantum numbers (like strangeness or charm), we explored how structural breakdowns — non-integrable motion, phase drift, and vector misalignment — could explain decay within the classical conservation laws of energy and momentum. That project became The Geometry of Stability and Instability, a kind of realQM manifesto. Have a look at it if you want to dive deeper. 🙂

Using AI for sense-making once more…

As mentioned in my last post, I did a video (YouTube link here) on why I think the invention of new quantum numbers like strangeness, charm and beauty in the 1960s – and their later ontologization as quarks – makes no sense. As usual, I talk too much and the video is rather long-winding. I asked ChatGPT to make a summary of it, and I think it did a rather good job at that. I copy its summary unaltered below.

Beyond the Quark Hypothesis: A Call for Simplicity in High-Energy Physics

1. Introduction: A Personal Journey in Physics

In this video, I reflect on my path as an amateur physicist reaching 50,000 reads—a milestone that underscores both excitement and the challenge of tackling complex quantum theories. Over decades, physics has evolved from classical mechanics to intricate frameworks like quantum field theory and quantum chromodynamics, creating both insight and paradox. This reflection emerges from a deep sense of curiosity, shared by many, to understand not just what the universe is made of but how these theoretical structures genuinely map onto reality.

2. The Crisis of Modern Physics: From Classical Mechanics to the Quark Hypothesis

Moving through physics from classical theories into high-energy particle models reveals a stark contrast: classical mechanics offers clarity and empiricism, while modern particle theories, such as quarks and gluons, often feel abstract and detached from observable reality. The shift to “smoking gun physics”—observing particle jets rather than the particles themselves—highlights a methodological divide. While high-energy collisions produce vivid images and data, we must question whether these indirect observations validate quarks, or merely add complexity to our models.

3. Historical Context: Quantum Numbers and the Evolution of the Standard Model

The 1960s and 70s were pivotal for particle physics, introducing quantum numbers like strangeness, charm, and beauty to account for unexplained phenomena in particle interactions. Figures like Murray Gell-Mann and Richard Feynman attempted to classify particles by assigning these numbers, essentially ad hoc solutions to match data with theoretical expectations. However, as experiments push the boundaries, new data shows that these quantum numbers often fail to predict actual outcomes consistently.

One of the key criticisms of this approach lies in the arbitrary nature of these quantum numbers. When certain decays were unobserved, strangeness was introduced as a “conservation law,” but when that proved insufficient, additional numbers like charm were added. The Standard Model has thus evolved not from fundamental truths, but as a patchwork of hypotheses that struggle to keep pace with experimental findings.

4. The Nobel Prize and the Politics of Scientific Recognition

Scientific recognition, especially through the Nobel Prize, has reinforced certain theories by celebrating theoretical advances sometimes over empirical confirmation. While groundbreaking work should indeed be recognized, the focus on theoretical predictions has, at times, overshadowed the importance of experimental accuracy and reproducibility. This dynamic may have inadvertently constrained the scope of mainstream physics, favoring elaborate but tenuous theories over simpler, empirically grounded explanations.

For example, Nobel Prizes have been awarded to proponents of the quark model and the Higgs boson long before we fully understand these particles’ empirical foundations. In doing so, the scientific community risks prematurely canonizing incomplete or even incorrect theories, making it challenging to revisit or overturn these assumptions without undermining established reputations.

5. Indirect Evidence: The Limits of Particle Accelerators

Particle accelerators, particularly at scales such as CERN’s Large Hadron Collider, have extended our observational reach, yet the evidence remains indirect. High-energy collisions create secondary particles and jets rather than isolated quarks or gluons. In a sense, we are not observing the fundamental particles but rather the “smoking gun” evidence they purportedly leave behind. The data produced are complex patterns and distributions, requiring interpretations laden with theoretical assumptions.

This approach raises a fundamental question: if a theory only survives through indirect evidence, can it be considered complete or even valid? High-energy experiments reveal that the more energy we input, the more complex the decay products become, yet we remain without direct evidence of quarks themselves. This “smoking gun” approach diverges from the empirical rigor demanded in classical physics and undermines the predictive power we might expect from a true theory of fundamental particles.

6. The Particle Zoo: A Growing Complexity

The “particle zoo” has expanded over decades, complicating rather than simplifying our understanding of matter. Initial hopes were that quantum numbers and conservation laws like strangeness would organize particles in a coherent framework, yet the resulting classification scheme has only grown more convoluted. Today, particles such as baryons, mesons, and leptons are grouped by properties derived not from first principles but from empirical fits to data, leading to ad hoc conservation laws that seem arbitrary.

The “strangeness” quantum number, for instance, was initially introduced to prevent certain reactions from occurring. Yet, rare reactions that violate this rule have been observed, suggesting that the rule itself is more of a guideline than a fundamental conservation law. This trend continued with the addition of quantum numbers like charm, beauty, and even bottomness, yet these additions have not resolved the core issue: our inability to explain why certain reactions occur while others do not.

7. Disequilibrium States: Beyond the Particle Concept

One possible perspective is to reclassify many “particles” not as fundamental entities but as disequilibrium states—transient structures that emerge from the interactions of more fundamental components. Viewing particles in this way offers a pathway back to a simpler, more intuitive model, where only stable particles like electrons, protons, and photons are foundational. Such a model could focus on electromagnetic fields and forces, with high-energy states representing temporary disequilibrium configurations rather than new particle species.

This perspective aligns well with the principle of statistical determinism. In the same way that classical oscillators eventually dampen and settle into stable states, high-energy disequilibrium states would be expected to decay, producing stable configurations over time. This model not only reduces the need for numerous quantum numbers but also sidesteps the requirement for exotic forces like the strong and weak nuclear forces, allowing the electromagnetic force to assume a central role.

8. Statistical Determinism and Quantum Reality

Heisenberg and Bohr’s interpretation of quantum mechanics suggests we should accept statistical determinism—systems governed by probabilistic rules where precise knowledge of individual events is inaccessible. This idea does not necessitate mystical randomness but acknowledges our limited ability to track initial conditions in high-energy environments. Probabilities emerge not from an intrinsic unpredictability but from our practical inability to fully specify a system’s state.

From this viewpoint, quarks and gluons, as well as the numerous quantum numbers assigned to unstable particles, are secondary descriptors rather than primary components of nature. Stable particles are the true constants, while all else is a function of high-energy interactions. This interpretation keeps quantum mechanics grounded in empirical reality and sidesteps the need for complex, unverifiable entities.

9. Conclusion: Toward a Pragmatic and Local Realist Approach

This reflection does not dismiss the importance of high-energy physics but advocates a return to fundamental principles. By focusing on empirical evidence, statistical determinism, and electromagnetic interactions, we can build a model that is both pragmatic and intuitive. We need not abandon quantum mechanics, but we should strive to ensure that its interpretations are consistent with the observable universe. Instead of introducing additional quantum numbers or forces, we should ask if these are placeholders for deeper, more coherent explanations yet to be discovered.

The journey of science is, at its core, a journey back to simplicity. If physics is to move forward, it may do so by revisiting foundational assumptions, clarifying what can be empirically tested, and developing a model of matter that resonates with the simplicity we find in classical theories. As research continues, it is this blend of skepticism, open-mindedness, and empirical rigor that will pave the way for meaningful discoveries.