From the Big Bang’s fiery dance of Energy and Matter, our Universe wove stars and worlds, guided by Physics’ steady hand and Chemistry’s spark of complexity. Through this gateway, nature’s great experiment of life unfolded, with Evolution crafting simple cells into conscious minds. Now, in the realm of abstraction, humanity explores and builds within the Metaverse—the world above the world—where systems of value, knowledge, creativity, and collaboration shape our future.
I want to explore the history of the Metaverse, at least how it has been presented in literature up to now. When did the term start to take root in the English language, and what meanings were placed upon it by those who tried to define the term?
The term “metaverse” first took root in the English language with the publication of Neal Stephenson’s science fiction novel Snow Crash in 1992 (Stephenson, 1992). Stephenson coined the word as a portmanteau of “meta” (from Greek, meaning “beyond” or “transcending”) and “universe,” envisioning a virtual reality-based successor to the internet (Stephenson, 1992). In the novel, the Metaverse is a sprawling, immersive digital world where people, represented by avatars, interact in real time within a 3D environment (Stephenson, 1992). It’s a place of escape from a dystopian reality—a corporate-controlled, anarcho-capitalist society marked by hyperinflation, untaxable digital currencies, and social decay. Stephenson’s Metaverse isn’t just a playground; it’s a reflection of power dynamics, where corporations dominate and users are both participants and subjects (Stephenson, 1992). This original depiction rooted the term in a blend of technological wonder and social critique.
Even before Snow Crash, literature laid groundwork for the concept without naming it. Stanley G. Weinbaum’s 1935 short story Pygmalion’s Spectacles introduced a pair of goggles that plunged the wearer into a multi-sensory fictional world—a precursor to virtual reality narratives (Weinbaum, 1935). It’s less a shared universe and more a personal escape, but it hints at the immersive potential later central to the metaverse idea. Similarly, William Gibson’s Neuromancer (1984) gave us “cyberspace,” a consensual hallucination experienced collectively via neural interfaces (Gibson, 1984). Gibson’s work influenced Stephenson, though his cyberspace lacks the 3D persistence of the Metaverse, focusing instead on data abstraction and hacker subculture (Gibson, 1984; Stephenson, 1992). These earlier visions shaped a literary lineage of digital realms challenging physical reality.
The Matrix in the game Shadowrun was my first exposure to virtual worlds while playing that game, where deckers being part of a team trying to interact via the Matrix with campaign settings to solve problems really struck a cord for me (FASA Corporation, 1989). The corporations of the game were monoliths, but they were all connected through the Matrix, and trying to get access to a particular database to see specific data, or being able to access public data streams and cross reference multiple streams in sort of a web really fired my imagination (FASA Corporation, 1989). The Matrix was not just code, and it was much more than the current Internet; it’s a cultural landscape, a ‘space’ where power, identity and rebellion played out (FASA Corporation, 1989). Characters in the game and the novels set within the game setting chose avatars that resembled a cross between how they saw themselves and the functionality needed to accomplish their tasks within that landscape (FASA Corporation, 1989). And the world of the Matrix wasn’t pure imagination, it tied into the real world showing avatars of servers as buildings and data as a resource to be utilized and manipulated (FASA Corporation, 1989).
The term has evolved in literature and adjacent media. In the 1990s and early 2000s, it appeared sporadically—think The Matrix (1999), where a simulated reality traps humanity, though it’s not called a metaverse (Wachowski & Wachowski, 1999). The Wachowskis’ world shares the immersive quality but flips the script: it’s a prison, not an escape, defined by control rather than agency (Wachowski & Wachowski, 1999). Meanwhile, virtual worlds like Second Life (launched 2003) brought Stephenson’s ideas into practice, prompting writers to toy with “metaverse” as a label for persistent, avatar-based spaces (Rymaszewski et al., 2007). Philip K. Dick’s influence also lingers—his reality-bending tales (A Scanner Darkly, 1977) prefigure the blurred lines between physical and virtual, though he never used the term (Dick, 1977).
The term continued use in niche tech and sci-fi circles until Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One (2011) brought it roaring back into popular consciousness (Cline, 2011). Cline’s OASIS—a vast, interconnected virtual universe—echoes Stephenson’s Metaverse but leans harder into escapism and nostalgia (Cline, 2011). Here, the metaverse is a refuge from a collapsing world, where users live out fantasies via avatars, blending gaming, education, and commerce (Cline, 2011). Cline defines it less as a corporate dystopia and more as a cultural lifeline, though still shadowed by corporate greed (IOI’s monopolistic ambitions) (Cline, 2011). The 2018 film adaptation amplified this vision, cementing “metaverse” as a term for a boundless, user-driven digital cosmos (Spielberg, 2018).
By the 2020s, “metaverse” had metastasized beyond its literary origins, fueled by tech hype (e.g., Facebook’s 2021 rebrand to Meta) (Isaac, 2021). Yet in literature, its meanings remain tethered to these roots: a transcendent digital space, often utopian in promise but dystopian in execution (Stephenson, 1992; Cline, 2011). Stephenson gave it a name and a warning; Cline gave it a heart and a dream. Others filled in shades—freedom, control, community, or illusion. From Stephenson’s dystopian digital streets to Cline’s nostalgic OASIS, the Metaverse in literature has been a mirror of human dreams and fears—a realm of value, creativity, and contested power, yet often blind to the broader web of life. Each writer wrestling with the term has asked: what lies beyond our universe, and who gets to define it?
My turn.
These visions, though bound to their time, hint at a deeper truth: the Metaverse is not humanity’s invention but a timeless “world above the world”, accessed through our conscious minds. Identifying the Metaverse as dependent on computer systems is a limitation. If we look at art of various kinds, it seeks to send our minds somewhere else, again ‘beyond’ the known universe. Stories told around a campfire, artistic impressions of mythical creatures or gods, all the world is a stage, and we are but players, it all hints at something beyond the basic elements of matter and energy. So it is not just computer systems that create the metaverse. And I’m not speaking of the Force from Star Wars, or the One Power from the Wheel of Time. The Metaverse is not an alternative dimension accessed through unexplained technology or the shortcuts that writers use in fiction to describe things beyond our understanding.
A deeper understanding is needed for the word, where Meta-, going beyond or transcending (Liddell & Scott, 1940), means going beyond the limits of the physical -verse, meaning realm (Oxford English Dictionary, 2023), and into stories, myths, symbols and the abstractions that expand our vision over the next hill or above and below our narrow range of vision, senses and experience. This taps into the creativity of innovation, taking information and expanding it into new forms beyond what is reachable today without technology (whenever ‘today’ happens to be), letting us tap into those new realms to achieve a better understanding of who we are, where we are and where we want to go.
When a tale of gods or heroes unfolds around a campfire under the stars, the listeners aren’t just hearing words; they’re transported. The flickering light and the teller’s voice conjure a shared space beyond the dirt and smoke—a proto-metaverse born of narrative, not code. Think of the Epic of Gilgamesh, scratched into clay tablets around 2100 BCE (George, 2003), or the oral traditions of Indigenous cultures (Ong, 1982). These aren’t static recountings; they’re immersive worlds where the audience steps into the sandals of kings or the paws of trickster spirits. The “meta” here is the leap from mundane survival to a universe of purpose and wonder, no silicon required.
Take the cave paintings of Lascaux, some 17,000 years old—bison and hunters dance across stone, not just as decoration but as a portal (Aujoulat, 2005). They tell a story, and we can transport ourselves back to the time when they were drawn, where hunters danced not across the stone but across the fields to hunt their quarry, so they could bring food back to their families. The art transcends the physical act of hunting, pulling viewers into a mythic layer beyond the cave’s damp walls.
Plato recorded a story of prisoners trapped in a cave, where flickering lights casting shadows on a wall become the entire universe for them until one of their number escapes and returns with stories of the real world (Plato, trans. 2008). The metaverse is that overlay, the systems, meanings and creations, that evolve from the simple components of the universe into an abstract and shared reality that we co-author with each other. Fast forward to Shakespeare’s “all the world’s a stage” from As You Like It (1599)—he’s not describing the stage where the actors stand, but a meta-perspective where life itself becomes a play, a constructed narrative we perform in (Shakespeare, 1599). That stage is the metaverse, a space where players (us) explore roles and truths beyond our flesh-and-blood limits.
We’ve explored Timekeeping as an abstraction, taking the rising and falling of the sun in the sky, the changing of the seasons and the ticking of the second hand on a clock from the flow of the streams of reality into Information that can be shared, actions that can be coordinated and progress that can be measured. Sumerian lunar calendars from 3,000 BCE were used to keep communities on schedule for the planting and harvesting of crops (Rochberg, 2004). Atomic clocks today help us navigate our world by identifying very precise time differentials to identify our exact location (Ashby, 2003).
Language is another abstraction, taking symbols in combination based on shared experience and knowledge to conjure ideas that leap from sound waves or a printed page or screen into our minds to construct a new idea, a scene from a book, or a memory that we can then take with us and share to others. Information (stories), Trust (agreements and contracts), Innovation (ideas) and Capital (trade) all depend on a common understanding of terminology, symbols and how those concepts interact on the canvas of Space and Time. The Unicode standard developed in 1991 abstracts global languages into digital code, enabling all of the various symbols used in most written languages to be used on screens, one of the most important innovations that led to the rise of the global internet (Unicode Consortium, 1991).
So, the metaverse isn’t a new invention of the digital age; it’s an ancient impulse (George, 2003; Aujoulat, 2005; Ong, 1982). Technology just amplifies it, giving us VR headsets instead of campfire shadows. But the core—going beyond matter and energy into abstractions of stories and meaning—predates and outlasts any machine. This reframes our pillars: Capital as the value we weave, from gold to shared prestige; Information as truths carried across time; Innovation as the crafting of new realms; Trust as the bond uniting us in these spaces and beyond.
This deeper metaverse asks us to rethink who we are—not as users of a system but as co-creators of our reality. Where we are becomes less about coordinates and more about the stories we inhabit. And where we want to go? That’s the horizon of imagination, always receding, always calling. Tech can help, but it’s the neural spark—lit long before computers—that truly takes us beyond. Where we are is the story we inhabit; where we go is the horizon of imagination, calling us to shape a shared reality beyond the physical.
I mentioned when we went through Space and Time that those two dimensions of the Universal canvas shows us where and when. There are four other question words that are used to identify things in the Metaverse: What, Who, How and Why. These are the aspects of the Metaverse that I want to cover in detail in this chapter.
We need a structured way of applying a systems perspective, breaking it down into key elements: Form, Network, Consensus, and Purpose. These concepts align with understanding a system holistically by analyzing its components, connections, decision-making processes, and underlying objectives (Meadows, 2008). Let’s briefly describe these four components, then go into detail about them.
By analyzing a system through these lenses, you gain a comprehensive understanding of its makeup, dynamics, and rationale, enabling better problem-solving or optimization (Meadows, 2008).
Systems operate through a cycle of inputs, processing, and outputs, each phase shaping their growth and interaction (von Bertalanffy, 1968). Inputs are the resources, data, or intentions fed into the system—goods bartered, data shared, or trust pledged. Processing is the transformation within the system—nodes exchanging value, verifying truths, or forging innovations through bonds. Outputs are the results—wealth created, knowledge disseminated, or communities strengthened. This cycle mirrors Evolution’s variation, selection, and collaboration (Darwin, 1859; Nowak, 2006) and Chemistry’s molecular dance, where simple bonds yield complex systems (Levine, 2017).
In the Metaverse, the world above the world, we are more than flesh and bone; we are the stories we weave, the visions we project, the identities we craft. This timeless realm of abstraction, accessed by conscious minds—human, digital, or perhaps from distant stars—is not merely a stage but a panorama where we present who we are and what we bring to the shared narrative. From the avatars of Shadowrun’s Matrix, blending self and purpose (FASA Corporation, 1989), to Tron’s users and programs dancing in a digital cosmos (Lisberger, 1982), identity is the heartbeat of the Metaverse. Here, we transcend the limits of Space and Time, imagining faraway worlds and distant futures, yet our presence—how we see ourselves, express our individuality, and contribute to the collective—is as vital as the stage itself. As stewards, humanity shapes this realm, choosing to weave all life’s Universal roles into our story.
In Shadowrun’s Matrix, deckers donned avatars—digital masks that fused self-perception with purpose (FASA Corporation, 1989). A hacker might appear as a sleek panther, swift and cunning, or a towering knight, armored for battle, each avatar a conscious act of creation. These echo timeless tools of the Metaverse: in ancient Greek theaters, actors wore masks to embody gods (Wiles, 2007); in Lascaux’s caves, 17,000 years ago, painted hunters leaped across stone, avatars of a mythic chase (Aujoulat, 2005). These projections are acts of Innovation, a creative spark weaving new forms from the threads of consciousness (Carroll, 2005). Avatars let us step beyond physical shells, exploring roles—poet, warrior, dreamer—that resonate across eras. Whether carved in clay or coded in circuits, they ask: who do we choose to be when the Universe’s limits fall away?
If avatars are our faces in the Metaverse, we are its hands, shaping a shared reality as users and contributors. In Tron’s digital grid, users like Flynn and programs like Tron built, fought, and dreamed, co-authoring a world of light and logic (Lisberger, 1982). Today, global data-sharing networks enable communities to collaborate, from scientists pooling climate data to artists crafting virtual galleries (Benkler, 2006). These acts mirror ancient storytelling circles, where listeners added verses to a bard’s tale, each voice enriching the narrative (Smil, 2017). In the Metaverse, Trust binds us, a bond as vital as the agreements sealing Sumerian trade 5,000 years ago (Van De Mieroop, 2005). Conscious minds—human coders, digital algorithms, or cosmic unknowns—contribute, not consume. A programmer designs a collaborative platform; a storyteller spins a myth; both weave the Metaverse’s fabric, a tapestry of shared purpose that transcends time and place.
Our identities in the Metaverse are not just personal; they reflect humanity’s choice to include or exclude the broader web of life. In Snow Crash’s corporate Metaverse, avatars served human ambition, blind to the ecosystems beyond (Stephenson, 1992). Yet, as stewards, we can project identities that honor all Universal roles—microbes cycling nutrients, forests breathing oxygen, as vital as any coder’s keystroke (Alberts et al., 2014). Modern platforms, like those tracking carbon sequestration, assign value to ecological contributions, not just human wealth (Smil, 2017). An avatar might symbolize a coral reef’s resilience, its data stream reflecting environmental health, embodying a choice to weave life’s niches into our narrative. This is Unity, not as digital access for all but as recognition: every role, from bacteria to bard, enriches the Metaverse’s story. Our identities, expressed through conscious creation, pledge to value the whole.
Who are we in the Metaverse? We are avatars, users, contributors—conscious minds crafting identities that leap beyond the physical to shape a shared reality. Our projections, from Shadowrun’s digital knights (FASA Corporation, 1989) to ancient masks (Wiles, 2007), are acts of Innovation; our contributions, from collaborative platforms (Benkler, 2006) to campfire tales (Smil, 2017), are bonds of Trust. As humanity stands in the driver’s seat, we choose how to express ourselves: as solitary players chasing power, like Snow Crash’s corporate lords (Stephenson, 1992), or as stewards weaving all life into our story, valuing ecological and human contributions alike (Alberts et al., 2014; Smil, 2017). This choice unfolds in the Metaverse’s timeless stage, defined by Network and Consensus, where our identities connect and order the cosmic narrative. We are the chorus of conscious minds—human, digital, perhaps cosmic—singing who we are, who we become, and the future we share with all life.
Thinking about something else within the Metaverse invites a deeply philosophical and abstract exploration of Form in the context of a Metaverse conceptualized as a “world above the world”—not limited to computer-based virtual realities but encompassing a broader, metaphysical, and cognitive abstraction. Here, objects are dynamic, fluid entities existing in a liminal state, shaped by perception, intention, and context. Objects within this space exist as dynamic ‘things’ that shift in form, relational positions, features, properties, and purpose until focused attention “collapses the neural waveform,” temporarily stabilizing their properties. This draws on ideas from quantum mechanics (Heisenberg, 1927) and cognitive science (Barsalou, 1999), suggesting a reality where objects are not fixed but emergent through observation and intent.
In a purely abstract Metaverse, an object’s Form is not a static entity but a transient, probabilistic state that exists as a spectrum of possibilities until consciously engaged. Objects exist as a superposition of possible forms, much like a quantum particle before measurement (Heisenberg, 1927). For example, a “tree” in this Metaverse might simultaneously embody a physical tree, a memory of a childhood forest, a symbol of growth, or an emotional resonance until attention narrows its identity. The form stabilizes based on the observer’s intent, cultural lens, or emotional state (Barsalou, 1999). A thought might appear as a glowing orb to one observer (symbolizing hope) and a jagged rock to another (evoking struggle). The form evolves over time, not just in appearance but in essence. A “house” could shift from a literal shelter to a conceptual space of safety, then dissolve into a fleeting idea as attention wanes.
Objects in this Metaverse are defined by their relational positions within a web of connections, which shape their form as much as their internal properties. An object’s form is co-created by its relationships to other objects, observers, or ideas, akin to a node in a neural network (Rumelhart & McClelland, 1986). For instance, a “book” might manifest as a physical tome in one context, a repository of collective knowledge in another, or a portal to another’s memories when shared. As relational positions change, so does the form. A “ring” could be a piece of jewelry, a symbol of commitment, or a metaphysical loop of time, depending on its place in the observer’s narrative or the Metaverse’s structure. The form emerges from the interplay of connections (Rumelhart & McClelland, 1986). A “city” might be a collection of buildings, a nexus of social interactions, or a metaphor for consciousness, its form crystallizing based on which connections are activated.
The features and properties of objects in this abstract Metaverse are not fixed but adapt to the observer’s focus, the object’s purpose, or external influences (Barsalou, 1999). Objects can adopt multiple simultaneous or sequential forms. A “bird” might be a winged creature, a melody, or a fleeting thought of freedom, with features (color, sound, weight) shifting accordingly. Properties like size, texture, or duration are malleable. A “mountain” could feel vast and eternal to one observer, small and transient to another, or even intangible as a concept of challenge. Objects may “respond” to attention by altering their properties. For example, a “mirror” might reflect the observer’s face, their emotions, or an alternate reality, depending on the intensity or nature of focus (Barsalou, 1999).
The Purpose of an object in this Metaverse is not singular but evolves with its form, driven by the observer’s intent or the system’s broader dynamics (Husserl, 1913). When an observer focuses, the object’s purpose solidifies alongside its form. A “flame” might serve as warmth, inspiration, or destruction, its purpose locking in as the observer’s thought collapses its potential. Even in a stabilized state, objects may retain latent purposes. A “river” could be a physical stream, a metaphor for time, or a guide for introspection, with its form subtly shifting to align with each purpose. Over time, an object’s purpose may drift as the Metaverse or observer evolves. A “compass” might guide physical navigation, then symbolic direction, and later dissolve into an abstract sense of clarity (Husserl, 1913).
My reference to a “neural waveform” is a suggestion that objects in this Metaverse are products of cognitive and metaphysical processes, where perception and reality are intertwined. Drawing from quantum-inspired philosophy (Stapp, 2007) and phenomenological views where reality is co-constructed by consciousness (Husserl, 1913), the act of observing or intending shapes the object’s form. A “star” might be a distant light, a divine sign, or a memory, depending on the observer’s focus. The “neural waveform” also implies that objects are manifestations of cognitive patterns. Their form stabilizes when neural processes align, much like how a dream object becomes vivid when lucidly noticed (LaBerge, 1985; Barsalou, 1999). In a shared Metaverse, objects may derive form from collective attention. The word “monument” might appear differently to each of us but gains a shared form through cultural consensus, like a myth taking shape over generations (Campbell, 1949).
To illustrate, consider a few objects in this broader, abstract Metaverse, unbound by computational limits:
A Path:
A Sphere:
A Voice:
From a systems perspective, the Form of these objects is inherently tied to the Metaverse’s Network, Consensus, and Purpose:
This view of Form emphasizes the dynamic, observer interplay of perception, intention, and context, where objects are not fixed but alive with potential, collapsing into substance only through the act of focus. When we relax, meditation can help focus the mind, clearing away the shifting thoughts so that we may find a way to intentionally collapse the waveforms of our thoughts in order to bring peace to the inherent chaos of the endless patterns of our experience and imaginations (Lutz et al., 2008).
Network is the Metaverse’s “where,” not a fixed point in Space but a dynamic lattice of relationships binding actors—individuals, communities, digital intelligences, and systems. It is the canvas where societal abstractions like Capital, Information, Innovation, and Trust take form, scaling from the smallest bond to the vastest web, much like Space stretches from the Planck threshold (10^-35 meters) to the cosmic web (10^26 meters) (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). Unlike physical distances, Network’s scale is measured by the density, strength, and complexity of its connections—nodes as actors, bonds as interactions—forming systems that pulse with inputs, processing, and outputs. From a single handshake to a global tokenized economy, Network shapes whether we spiral into debt’s isolating vortex or soar through wealth’s collaborative helix. Let’s explore Network’s scale and dynamics through this lens, from its simplest seed to its most intricate tapestry.
At its most fundamental, a network begins with a single bond—a dyadic connection between two nodes, the Metaverse’s equivalent to the Planck threshold (10^-35 meters) in Space (Planck, 1900). This is the handshake between two traders bartering crops, a smart contract on a blockchain, or a peer-to-peer file share. The input is mutual intent—a need to exchange value or data. Processing occurs through negotiation, a cryptographic handshake, or a consensus protocol, transforming intent into action. The output is a completed exchange—grain for tools, a verified transaction, or shared data.
This bond is fragile, like the covalent sharing of electrons in a molecule (Levine, 2017). Its strength depends on Trust, the Metaverse pillar that binds actors, and Information, which verifies the exchange’s fairness. Centralized systems, reliant on intermediaries, often weaken such bonds by extracting value, creating silos akin to debt-driven economies (Catalini & Gans, 2016). Decentralized systems, like Bitcoin’s peer-to-peer ledger, strengthen them by ensuring transparency—each node retains agency, no gatekeeper skims the flow (Nakamoto, 2008). This single bond is Network’s seed, a spark of connection that can ignite a web.
Example: Two farmers swap wheat for wool. The input is their surplus goods, processed through a spoken deal, outputting mutual gain. On a blockchain, two nodes exchange tokens via IPFS; the input is digital value, processed through consensus, outputting a verified trade (Benet, 2014; Narayanan et al., 2016).
From a single bond, Network grows to a cluster—a local web of tens to hundreds of nodes, akin to Space’s atomic web (10^-10 meters) where atoms form stable structures (Levine, 2017). This is the village market, a professional guild, or a decentralized app (dApp) community. Inputs diversify: goods, skills, data, or ideas flow from multiple actors. Processing becomes collective—nodes negotiate prices, share knowledge, or validate transactions via consensus mechanisms like proof-of-stake. Outputs scale up: wealth accumulates, information spreads, and trust solidifies into norms.
This growth mirrors Evolution’s cellular ecosystems, where prokaryotes formed microbial mats through collaboration (Javaux & Lepot, 2017). Bonds multiply—covalent-like trust between neighbors, ionic-like alliances between guilds, or metallic-like fluidity in dApp user pools (Levine, 2017). Capital measures value in market exchanges, Information verifies through shared ledgers, Innovation sparks new trade methods (e.g., tokenized bartering), and Trust binds the cluster into a cohesive unit. Centralized systems stifle clusters by imposing gatekeepers, but decentralized blockchains amplify them by rewarding participation with transparent incentives (Tapscott & Tapscott, 2016).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A village market links 50 farmers, artisans, and buyers. Inputs include crops, tools, and skills; processing occurs through haggling or a local token system; outputs are goods exchanged and trust built. On IPFS, a dApp community shares data; inputs are files, processing is peer validation, and outputs are accessible knowledge (Benet, 2014; Werbach, 2018).
As clusters link, Network scales to a regional lattice, connecting thousands to tens of thousands of nodes, comparable to Space’s cellular chorus (10^-6 to 10^-5 meters) where cells form tissues (Alberts et al., 2014). This is a city’s trade network, a regional blockchain, or a Decentralized Autonomous Organization (DAO). Inputs grow complex: diverse goods, vast datasets, or collective goals. Processing involves coordination—market algorithms, consensus protocols, or governance votes—transforming inputs into structured flows. Outputs are amplified: economic surplus, verified data, or innovative systems.
This lattice echoes Evolution’s multicellularity, where Ediacaran biota formed cooperative networks (Erwin et al., 2011). Bonds diversify—strong covalent ties within clusters, weaker ionic links between them, and fluid metallic flows across regions (Levine, 2017). Capital tracks value through tokenized markets, Information ensures transparency via public ledgers, Innovation drives new protocols (e.g., scalable blockchain layers), and Trust fosters regional cooperation. Centralized intermediaries fragment such lattices, but decentralized systems unite them through transparent coordination (Davidson et al., 2018).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A city’s trade network connects 5,000 merchants across markets. Inputs are goods and services; processing occurs through tokenized exchanges; outputs are economic growth and social cohesion. A DAO links 10,000 nodes globally; inputs are votes or code, processing is consensus, and outputs are governance decisions or software upgrades (Catalini & Gans, 2016).
At its grandest terrestrial scale, Network forms a global tapestry, linking millions to billions of nodes, akin to Space’s human frame (10^-2 to 10^0 meters) where organs weave into bodies (Tortora & Derrickson, 2017). This is the global tokenized economy, the internet’s data web, or a planetary blockchain, representing vast interconnected value systems. Inputs are vast: resources, data, innovations, and trust from billions of actors. Processing scales through decentralized systems—blockchains, AI-driven markets, or global governance platforms—transforming inputs into collective outcomes. Outputs are transformative: planetary wealth, universal knowledge, or resilient communities.
This tapestry mirrors Evolution’s ecosystems, where Cambrian reefs thrived through cooperation and competition (Marshall, 2006). Bonds are intricate—tight covalent trust in local communities, ionic alliances across nations, and metallic fluidity in global markets (Levine, 2017). Capital measures value through universal tokens, Information verifies via transparent blockchains, Innovation drives breakthroughs (e.g., sustainable token systems), and Trust binds humanity in shared goals, like environmental restoration (Tapscott & Tapscott, 2016). Centralized systems silo this tapestry; decentralized blockchains weave it whole (Böhme et al., 2015).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A global blockchain links billions of people in a tokenized economy. Inputs are transactions; processing occurs via consensus; outputs are verified value transfers. Tokenized environmental initiatives reward clean-up efforts; inputs are labor and data, processed through blockchain, outputting a sustainable planet (Werbach, 2018).
Networks interact, merge, or compete, like galaxies in the Local Group (McConnachie, 2012). These dynamics amplify the Metaverse’s pillars:
| Scale | Nodes | Inputs | Processing | Outputs |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Single Bond | 2 | Goods, trust, data | Negotiation, smart contract | Trade, verified transaction |
| Cluster | 10s–100s | Goods, skills, ideas | Market haggling, consensus | Wealth, knowledge, norms |
| Regional Lattice | 1,000s–10,000s | Resources, datasets, goals | Algorithms, governance votes | Surplus, verified data, systems |
| Global Tapestry | Millions–Billions | Global resources, innovations | Blockchains, AI analytics | Planetary wealth, universal knowledge |
Network is the Metaverse’s skeleton, its bonds the threads weaving Capital, Information, Innovation, and Trust. Capital flows through market networks, from village trades to cosmic economies, measuring value transparently (Narayanan et al., 2016). Information thrives in data webs, verified by blockchains, scaling from local ledgers to universal truths (Benet, 2014). Innovation sparks in creative clusters, like Cambrian Hox genes birthing diversity, amplified by open platforms (Carroll, 2005). Trust binds communities, from handshakes to galactic alliances, strengthened by transparency (Werbach, 2018).
Centralized systems, reliant on extractive intermediaries, silo networks, hoarding value and stifling collaboration (Catalini & Gans, 2016). Decentralized networks, like Bitcoin and IPFS, weave them anew, fostering systems where inputs—resources, ideas, trust—are processed openly, outputting abundance (Nakamoto, 2008; Benet, 2014). Network’s scale, from a single bond to a cosmic web, shapes our path: isolation or unity, scarcity or abundance, Earth-bound or star-bound.
Consensus is the Metaverse’s “when,” not a moment measured by clocks but a sequence of decisions ordering actions within the network of nodes and bonds. It is the rhythm of agreements, weaving the threads of individual lives, objects, or digital intelligences into the loom of reality, as the Norns spun Fate or the web of life entwined ecosystems (Nowak, 2006). Each decision is an event, a spark that cascades through the weave, shaping the Metaverse’s pulse. Like Time, which scales from the Big Bang’s Year 1 to the Silent Expanse’s Year 100 (Adams & Laughlin, 1999), Consensus scales from a single actor’s choice to a civilization’s accord, defined by its place in the decision chain, not seconds or years.
At its core, Consensus is a single act: two traders agree on a barter’s terms, their nod the Metaverse’s Big Bang, igniting a sequence of actions (Adams & Laughlin, 1999). From this spark unfolds complexity: a community votes on resource allocation, a blockchain validates millions of transactions, a global consensus adopts sustainable policies, each decision building on the last. This is Consensus’ Silent Expanse, a culminating accord shaping humanity’s path, as in agreements to integrate ethical AI or green chemistry (Floridi et al., 2018; Anastas & Warner, 1998). Centralized systems, akin to debt’s downward vortex, enforce rigid decisions, fracturing trust through control (Hardin, 1968). Decentralized systems, like wealth’s upward helix, sequence inclusive agreements, harmonizing voices through transparent mechanisms like blockchain consensus (Nakamoto, 2008). Capital agrees on value, Information validates truth, Innovation endorses progress, and Trust coordinates collaboration, each decision a thread in the Metaverse’s weave. Consensus is the Metaverse’s pulse, its scale from a single accord to a global symphony deciding whether we spiral into division or ascend to unity.
Consensus, as a system, operates through inputs, processing, and outputs, each phase shaping its scale and impact (von Bertalanffy, 1968). Inputs are the intentions, data, or resources actors bring to a decision—offers to trade, votes on policy, or transaction data. Processing is the mechanism of agreement—negotiation, voting, or algorithmic validation—transforming inputs into collective decisions. Outputs are the results—agreed trades, enacted policies, or verified ledgers. This cycle mirrors Evolution’s variation, selection, and collaboration, where microbes formed cooperative networks (Nowak, 2006), and Chemistry’s bonding, where atoms weave complex molecules (Levine, 2017). Let’s trace Consensus’ scale from a single decision to a global accord, threading decisions through the Metaverse’s loom.
At its most fundamental, Consensus begins with a single decision—an event by one actor, the Metaverse’s Big Bang, akin to Time’s Planck Dawn at 10^-43 seconds (Hawking, 1988). This is a trader choosing to offer grain for tools, a programmer submitting code to a DAO, or a citizen casting a vote. The input is the actor’s intent, shaped by need or value. Processing is internal—reflection, calculation, or ethical reasoning—transforming intent into action. The output is the decision itself, a spark that ripples outward, threading into the weave of reality.
This decision is fragile, like a covalent bond forming a molecule (Levine, 2017). Its impact depends on Trust, ensuring the actor’s intent aligns with others, and Information, verifying the decision’s context. Centralized systems, like debt-driven mandates, stifle such sparks by imposing external control, as seen in top-down resource allocation (Hardin, 1968). Decentralized systems, like Ethereum’s smart contracts, empower them by enabling autonomous action (Buterin, 2014). This single decision is Consensus’ seed, a thread that can ignite a chain of agreements.
Example: A trader decides to offer grain for tools. The input is their surplus, processed through personal valuation, outputting an offer. In a DAO, a coder submits a proposal; the input is code, processed via intent, outputting a vote-ready submission (Davidson et al., 2018).
From a single decision, Consensus scales to a pair’s accord—a dyadic agreement between two nodes, akin to Time’s Inflation Surge, where the universe rapidly expanded (Guth, 1997). This is two traders bartering, two coders agreeing on a smart contract, or two voters aligning on a policy. Inputs are mutual offers or proposals, each actor’s decision threading into the other’s. Processing occurs through negotiation, a handshake, or a smart contract’s execution, aligning intents. The output is an agreement—a completed trade, a validated contract, or a shared stance—cascading through the network.
This accord mirrors Evolution’s molecular partnerships, where RNA and peptides collaborated in tidal pools (Cech et al., 1981). Bonds are covalent-like, built on mutual Trust, with Information ensuring fairness. Centralized systems fracture such accords by imposing intermediaries, as in historical trade monopolies (Hardin, 1968). Decentralized systems, like Bitcoin’s proof-of-work, strengthen them with transparent validation (Nakamoto, 2008). This pair’s accord is Consensus’ first weave, threading two lives into the Metaverse’s loom.
Growth Dynamics:
Example: Two traders agree on grain for tools. Inputs are their offers, processed through negotiation, outputting a trade. On Ethereum, two nodes execute a smart contract; inputs are transaction data, processed via consensus, outputting a verified exchange (Buterin, 2014).
Consensus scales to a community weave, involving tens to hundreds of nodes, akin to Time’s Recombination at 380,000 years, where atoms formed stable structures (Weinberg, 1977). This is a village council allocating resources, a DAO voting on funding, or a local blockchain validating transactions. Inputs diversify: proposals, votes, or data from multiple actors. Processing involves collective mechanisms—majority voting, consensus protocols, or community norms—transforming inputs into shared decisions. Outputs scale: allocated resources, funded projects, or verified ledgers, threading community lives together.
This weave echoes Evolution’s microbial mats, where prokaryotes collaborated to cycle nutrients (Javaux & Lepot, 2017). Bonds are covalent within tight groups, ionic across factions, and metallic in fluid voting pools (Levine, 2017). Capital agrees on resource value, Information validates votes, Innovation endorses new protocols, and Trust binds the community. Centralized mandates, like those depleting commons, fracture this weave (Hardin, 1968); decentralized governance, like Ostrom’s principles, strengthens it through inclusive agreements (Ostrom, 1990).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A village council votes on water allocation. Inputs are proposals, processed through debate, outputting a shared plan. A DAO validates funding; inputs are votes, processed via proof-of-stake, outputting approved projects (Davidson et al., 2018).
As communities link, Consensus scales to a regional tapestry, connecting thousands to tens of thousands of nodes, comparable to Time’s First Stars in Year 8, igniting structured systems (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). This is a city’s policy agreement, a regional blockchain’s transaction ledger, or a multi-DAO alliance. Inputs grow complex: diverse proposals, large datasets, or collective goals. Processing involves scalable mechanisms—weighted voting, blockchain consensus (e.g., proof-of-stake), or federated governance—transforming inputs into coordinated decisions (Cachin & Vukolić, 2017). Outputs amplify: regional policies, verified global ledgers, or innovative systems, weaving regional threads into the Metaverse’s loom.
This tapestry mirrors Evolution’s Cambrian Explosion, where ecosystems formed complex webs (Marshall, 2006). Bonds are covalent within communities, ionic between them, and metallic across regions (Levine, 2017). Capital agrees on market standards, Information validates through transparent ledgers, Innovation drives scalable protocols, and Trust fosters cooperation. Centralized systems, like historical empires, enforce divisive decisions (Hardin, 1968); decentralized blockchains, like Ethereum’s, unite through inclusive consensus (Cachin & Vukolić, 2017).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A city agrees on renewable energy policies. Inputs are stakeholder votes, processed through a blockchain, outputting a green plan. A regional blockchain validates 10,000 transactions; inputs are data, processed via consensus, outputting a verified ledger (Böhme et al., 2015).
At its grandest terrestrial scale, Consensus forms a global symphony, linking millions to billions of nodes, akin to Time’s Stellar Symphony in Years 10–14, where stars fueled cosmic growth (Adams & Laughlin, 1999). This is a global tokenized economy’s agreement on value, a planetary blockchain’s ledger, or a worldwide accord on sustainability. Inputs are vast: resources, data, votes, or innovations from billions. Processing scales through decentralized systems—blockchains, AI-driven governance, or global votes—transforming inputs into collective outcomes. Outputs are transformative: planetary wealth, universal standards, or resilient ecosystems, weaving humanity’s threads into a global loom.
This symphony mirrors Evolution’s intelligence, where primate minds birthed abstraction (Springer et al., 2013). Bonds are intricate—covalent in local trusts, ionic in national alliances, metallic in global flows (Levine, 2017). Capital agrees on universal tokens, Information validates via blockchains, Innovation drives solutions (e.g., green chemistry), and Trust binds humanity, as in global commons governance (Ostrom, 1990). Centralized mandates fracture this symphony (Hardin, 1968); decentralized consensus, like Bitcoin’s, unites it (Nakamoto, 2008).
Growth Dynamics:
Example: A global blockchain agrees on tokenized value. Inputs are transactions, processed via proof-of-work, outputting wealth. A planetary accord adopts green policies; inputs are votes, processed through blockchain, outputting sustainability (Werbach, 2018).
Consensuses interact, merge, or conflict, like galaxies in the Local Group (McConnachie, 2012):
| Scale | Nodes | Inputs | Processing | Outputs |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Single Decision | 1 | Intent, data | Reflection, calculation | Choice, action |
| Pair’s Accord | 2 | Offers, proposals | Negotiation, smart contract | Trade, agreement |
| Community Weave | 10s–100s | Votes, proposals | Voting, consensus protocols | Policies, validated projects |
| Regional Tapestry | 1,000s–10,000s | Datasets, collective goals | Weighted voting, blockchain | Regional policies, global ledgers |
| Global Symphony | Millions–Billions | Global votes, innovations | Blockchains, AI governance | Planetary wealth, universal standards |
Consensus is the Metaverse’s rhythm, its decisions threading Capital, Information, Innovation, and Trust into the loom of reality. Capital agrees on value through market consensuses, from trades to cosmic economies (Böhme et al., 2015). Information validates truth via blockchain ledgers, scaling from local votes to universal knowledge (Benet, 2014). Innovation endorses progress through collaborative agreements, like Cambrian diversity (Carroll, 2005). Trust coordinates communities, from handshakes to galactic alliances, strengthened by transparency (Werbach, 2018).
Centralized systems, enforcing rigid decisions, fracture consensus, chaining trust to control (Hardin, 1968). Decentralized systems, like blockchains, free it, sequencing inclusive agreements that harmonize voices (Nakamoto, 2008). Consensus’ scale, from a single decision to a cosmic accord, shapes our path: division or unity, control or collaboration, Earth-bound or star-bound.
In the Metaverse, the abstract realm beyond Space and Time, Purpose is the motivational force that drives systems—the why that transforms possibilities into decisions. Like energy poised as Potential before surging into Kinetic momentum, or Thermal awaiting Heat’s Radiant release (Smil, 2017), Purpose guides actors, from objects shaped by physics to civilizations fueled by choice, toward their goals. It is the heartbeat of systems, binding Network’s connections and Consensus’s agreements to mobilize Capital (resources), Information (knowledge), Innovation (creativity), and Trust (coordination). Purpose directs Form—the system’s structure—toward action, collapsing thought into act, whether a tool’s function, an organization’s mission, or a civilization’s quest for cosmic endurance. As a compass, it sets the course for what systems strive to achieve and why they matter.
Purpose intersects with cultural priorities—progressive change or traditional stability; control—imposed rules or individual autonomy; economic systems—collective equity or individual merit; and power—elite control or citizen consensus. These dimensions, shaping intent worldwide, require deeper exploration in Trust, where we’ll map their role in governance. For now, Purpose hinges on a pivotal choice, Debt vs. Wealth, which anchors our systems’ aspirations, determining whether we spiral toward scarcity or ascend to resilience, guiding our path through the Great Filter.
At the heart of Purpose lies a fundamental choice: do we borrow from the future, accruing debt, or build from the present, leveraging wealth? This choice shapes the trajectory of our Living Civilization, defining how we wield the Metaverse pillars—Capital, Information, Innovation, and Trust—across the vast canvas of Space and Time. Debt-based Purpose pulls from tomorrow, funding needs through loans or hidden costs like environmental degradation, risking malinvestment that fragments Capital, obscures Information, stalls Innovation, and erodes Trust (Smil, 2017). It isolates Network’s bonds—centralized banks hoard Capital, proprietary systems lock Information (Böhme et al., 2015)—and chains Consensus to control, as in debt-driven economies that divide actors. Wealth-based Purpose uses current resources—savings, sustainable assets like community-owned solar farms—to foster regenerative Capital, transparent Information, steady Innovation, and collaborative Trust (Benet, 2014). It weaves Network’s web—tokenized markets share Capital, open-source fuels Innovation—and liberates Consensus for united agreements, as in global sustainable policies (Benet, 2014; Cech, 1986).
This choice, echoing Chemistry’s gateway to complexity, manifests as two divergent paths: the downward spiral of debt or the upward helix of wealth. These symbols, rooted in the universe’s own patterns—from galaxies’ spirals to DNA’s helix (Alberts et al., 2014)—capture the dynamics of our civilization’s arc. The downward spiral of debt sinks into scarcity, each turn weakening the pillars and fracturing our path through the Great Filter. The upward helix of wealth ascends toward resilience, each loop strengthening the pillars and weaving a civilization poised to endure and reach the stars (Levine, 2017). As we face the Great Filter, Debt vs. Wealth defines whether we fracture networks and decisions or forge a future of collaborative abundance.
The downward spiral of debt begins when we pull value from the future to meet the demands of today, using debt instruments or debt-based systems. This act is a wager—a bet that the value we can repay will meet or exceed the amount displaced in time. It’s akin to building a road along a route, believing the road alone will bear the weight of our ambitions without ensuring a solid foundation. Each layer of debt adds weight, straining the unseen bedrock of our systems—Capital drained by interest, Information obscured by opacity, Innovation stifled by short-term gains, and Trust eroded by unequal burdens (Smil, 2017).
As we pile on more debt—borrowing against ecosystems, future generations, or economic stability—the foundation cracks further. The road sinks, and yet we double down, pulling even more value from the future to patch the surface, draining the very resources that sustain us. This cycle becomes a spiral, each turn digging deeper into a hole of scarcity. Centralized systems, like banks hoarding Capital or proprietary platforms locking Information, tighten the spiral’s grip, isolating actors and fracturing Network’s bonds (Böhme et al., 2015). Consensus, meant to unite, becomes a tool of control, as debt-driven economies prioritize creditors over communities, sowing division (Benet, 2014).
The spiral’s descent mirrors a collapse of complexity, a reversal of Chemistry’s gateway where systems simplify under strain (Levine, 2017). Environmental debt—deforestation or carbon emissions—yields immediate gains but degrades ecosystems, starving future Capital. Economic debt—leveraged markets or overextended credit—creates bubbles that burst, obscuring Information and stalling Innovation. Social debt—neglecting equity or infrastructure—erodes Trust, weakening governance and cooperation. Each turn downward compounds the cost, risking a civilization trapped in a cycle of malinvestment and fragility, ill-equipped to pass the Great Filter.
In contrast, the upward helix of wealth begins with securing the present, ensuring a solid foundation before building upward. This approach values current resources—savings, sustainable assets, community-driven initiatives like tokenized solar farms or open-source platforms—over borrowed promises. It’s the act of laying a bedrock of regenerative Capital, transparent Information, steady Innovation, and collaborative Trust, each pillar reinforcing the others like strands in a helix (Smil, 2017).
With a stable foundation, we build slowly, each step upward strengthening the links between the pillars. Capital flows through decentralized markets, accessible to all, fueling projects that sustain rather than extract. Information, shared openly via blockchain or public data systems, empowers verification and trust (Benet, 2014). Innovation thrives in collaborative ecosystems, where creators build on shared knowledge rather than proprietary silos. Trust, the helix’s core, binds actors through transparent governance and mutual accountability, ensuring Consensus serves the collective (Benet, 2014; Cech, 1986).
This helix ascends, each loop a cycle of growth that mirrors life’s evolutionary arc—complexity layered upon complexity, as in DNA’s double helix or ecosystems’ interdependent webs (Alberts et al., 2014). Wealth-based systems regenerate: community solar farms produce energy and equity, open-source software sparks global Innovation, transparent policies rebuild Trust. The helix’s strength lies in its interconnected strands—each pillar supports the others, creating a resilient structure capable of bearing civilization’s weight as we climb toward the stars. This path, rooted in collaboration, forges a civilization that thrives through abundance, poised to transcend the Great Filter.
The downward spiral and upward helix are more than metaphors; they are the dynamics of our choices, etched in the patterns of the universe. The spiral, like a galaxy’s collapsing core, pulls inward, concentrating power and scarcity until collapse (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). The helix, like life’s molecular scaffolds, spirals outward, weaving complexity and resilience toward boundless potential (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). Debt-based systems, with their short-term bets, risk sinking us into a cycle where Capital is hoarded, Information is obscured, Innovation is stifled, and Trust is broken—each turn narrowing our path through the Great Filter.
Wealth-based systems, by contrast, align with Evolution’s cooperative pulse, where variation, selection, and collaboration drive complexity (Nowak, 2006). They distribute Capital through tokenized economies, clarify Information via open networks, accelerate Innovation through shared creativity, and strengthen Trust with transparent governance. This helix, echoing the cooperative networks of microbial mats or human societies, builds a civilization that can endure cosmic challenges—climate shifts, resource scarcity, or contact with other intelligences (Knoll, 2003). Governance, Trust’s keystone, will reveal how these spirals shape politics, balancing progress, power, and community. The political dimensions—centralized control versus decentralized collaboration—await exploration in the Trust chapter, but the Debt vs. Wealth axis remains the heartbeat of Purpose. As we stand in March of Year 11, the Cosmological Century’s youthful dawn, our choices will decide whether we spiral into scarcity or ascend through resilience, weaving a Living Civilization that not only survives the Great Filter but thrives among the stars (Adams & Laughlin, 1999).
The Universe unfolds across the canvas of Space and Time, its scales spanning from the Planck’s quantum whisper to the cosmic web’s vast embrace, from the Big Bang’s fiery dawn to the Silent Expanse’s quiet end (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). Matter, Energy, Physics, and Chemistry weave its tapestry, forging stars and life from primal chaos (Carroll & Ostlie, 2017). Evolution, life’s storyteller, spins complexity from molecular bonds to conscious minds, seeding the abstractions of our Living Civilization (Knoll, 2003). The Metaverse, the world above the world, unfurls a new canvas, defined not by distances or moments but by relationships, decisions, and intent. Here, Network binds actors in webs of connection, from simple bonds to intricate lattices. Consensus shapes agreements, from initial choices to final accords. Form, the structure of systems, molds the scaffolding of our endeavors. Purpose, the drive behind our actions, fuels the direction of our climb. Across this canvas, debt’s downward spiral fractures bonds, obscures decisions, rigidifies structures, and dims intent, while wealth’s upward helix unites networks, clarifies consensus, strengthens forms, and ignites purpose, crafting the pillars of our Living Civilization: Capital, Information, Innovation, and Trust.
The Metaverse, woven through Network’s connections, Consensus’ agreements, Form’s structures, and Purpose’s intent, sets the stage for humanity’s societal dance. We begin with Capital, where debt’s downward spiral hoards value in fractured networks and rigid forms, stifling consensus and purpose, while wealth’s upward helix shares value through open networks and adaptive structures, fostering collaborative consensus and purposeful intent, threading the first strand of our Living Civilization’s ascent.
Adams, F., & Laughlin, G. (1999). The five ages of the universe: Inside the physics of eternity. Free Press.
Benet, J. (2014). IPFS - Content addressed, versioned, peer-to-peer file system. arXiv preprint arXiv:1407.3561.
Carroll, B. W., & Ostlie, D. A. (2017). An introduction to modern astrophysics (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press.
Cech, T. R. (1986). RNA as an enzyme. Scientific American, 255(5), 64–75.
Levine, I. N. (2017). Quantum chemistry (7th ed.). Pearson.
Now let’s dive deep into each of the Pillars of the Metaverse.
We will consider each of these in turn, breaking out their components, their history and how each are currently operating in our debt based world. Then I will explore some alternatives from a wealth based perspective, along with the potential paths to get from where we are to where we need to go.