Chapter 1: Understanding the Fermi Paradox

To begin, I want to clarify that I am not a physicist. My background is in software engineering, and while I have a good grasp of physics and some advanced mathematics, my knowledge extends into history and anthropology as well. These fields are relevant because scientists, like all humans, are influenced by the cultural biases of their time.

This brings us to an important point: scientists, regardless of their discipline, often share biases similar to those of their cultural backgrounds. For example, a Greek philosopher or scientist might have more in common with a playwright of the same era than with a physicist from the mid-19th century in Britain when it comes to their views on humanity's role in the universe.

Why is this distinction important? It highlights that a modern physicist from any society may have more in common with a contemporary Creationist than with their ancient Greek counterparts. Both groups perceive their understanding of the universe as accurate. While I can somewhat empathize with the Creationist, who is guided by faith, I find it harder to excuse the physicists, who should know better.

What is it that troubles me about physicists? At the core of modern physics lies a fundamental principle: General Relativity, which introduces the concept of curved spacetime. Our measurements—intended to support theories applicable to both large and small scales affected by gravity—are often imprecise or even misleading.

How does this relate to the Fermi Paradox? The prevailing theories we are testing suggest that nothing can surpass the speed of light in a vacuum. However, this should be refined to say that nothing moves faster than light in highly curved spacetime. We remain uncertain about what lies beyond our localized region of curved spacetime, which extends far beyond just the gravitational influences of Earth or the Sun. We exist within the Milky Way's gravitational field, as well as whatever larger structure it is part of. The enormity of these cosmic distances complicates our measurements significantly.

Another intriguing aspect that is often overlooked is the question of our relative speed. Many articles discuss objects receding from Earth at a certain percentage of light speed. This implies that we, too, must be moving at that same percentage, right? If we are moving away from a distant object at 99.99999% of light speed, what does that imply for our own velocity? Moreover, during the Earth’s orbital path, does it maintain a consistent speed relative to other celestial bodies? These are the kinds of questions that, while crucial to understanding the Fermi Paradox, remain unanswered.

Moving on, we arrive at a critical inquiry: How vast is the universe? The honest answer is that we simply do not know. We have several hypotheses that align with our current measurements, yet these measurements may be so distorted that they are nearly meaningless. Thus, we are left with the rather unsettling conclusion that our best estimate posits a universe with a radius of 46.5 billion light-years centered on Earth.

This raises a significant concern: why do we assume that the "observable universe" is synonymous with the universe itself? Although there are attempts to avoid this assumption, they often fall short in practical calculations and theories. Until we can gain a perspective from beyond our current vantage point, we cannot truly know.

So, how does this relate to the Fermi Paradox? It underscores the human tendency to assume we are at the center of the universe. Just as our ancestors created gods and crystal spheres to explain natural phenomena, we have developed concepts like dark matter and the Big Bang to rationalize why the universe doesn't behave as we expect.

Our attempts to answer the Fermi question—"Where are all the aliens?"—range from "Earth is unique" to "Intelligent life tends to self-destruct." However, I propose a simpler answer: we simply do not know. Until we venture out to explore, we cannot find answers. Pondering over what lies beyond our immediate surroundings without taking action is an exercise in futility. Our ancestors expanded humanity’s reach by simply asking, "What is over that hill?" If we never venture beyond our solar system, humanity may eventually become an archaeological curiosity for some alien civilization in the distant future.

I recognize that many physicists would challenge my assertion that we do not understand the universe nearly as well as we believe. But how can we claim to understand the cosmos when our exploration is limited to a minuscule part of it? This is akin to early hominids presuming to know all about water based solely on their experiences with a nearby stream or pond. We have a grasp of physics within the gravitational wells of massive objects. I remain open to being proven wrong, yet I believe we must travel far beyond these gravity sources to achieve flat or nearly flat space, after which we can retake measurements and reevaluate our understanding.

Could the answer to the Fermi Paradox be that civilizations reach a point where they comprehend the physics of their surroundings and decide it’s no longer worth pursuing? Based on human behavior, that does not seem far-fetched; we have largely halted our expansion and seem focused on remaining within our isolated gravitational well.

In the first video titled "The Fermi Paradox — Where Are All The Aliens?," the narrator explores the fundamental questions surrounding the absence of alien life and the implications for humanity.

The second video, "You Don't Understand The Fermi Paradox," delves into common misconceptions about the Fermi Paradox and challenges viewers to reconsider their understanding of the universe.