12 June 2025

Relational Cosmology: Science, Spirit, and Sense-Making

1 Why Cosmology Must Be Relational

What is the universe?

It sounds like a question of fact, of inventory — as if the universe were a warehouse to be catalogued, a container of things to be explained. This is how most cosmologies — scientific and mythic alike — have tended to proceed. They begin by asking what exists, and then how those things behave. Matter, particles, laws, dimensions. Inheritance. Structure. Force.

But what if this way of questioning already hides an assumption?

The assumption is that reality is made up of things — discrete units that persist in themselves and relate only secondarily. The universe, in this view, is a stage on which separate entities appear and interact.

We propose a different premise:
that relation is not secondary, but primary.
That the universe is not made of things, but of togetherings — processes of co-emergence and mutual becoming.


The Shift from Substance to Relation

This is not an esoteric metaphysical claim. It arises from the very heart of experience. Nothing arises alone. To see is to be seen. To breathe is to exchange. To think is to inherit language, to dwell in a history of meaning. Even the most basic 'thing' is already a confluence — a knot in a field of relations.

This is true not only experientially, but also physically. Quantum theory, for instance, resists efforts to describe isolated particles; it points us instead to entanglement, to wavefunctions that encode not individual properties but joint potentials. General relativity tells us that space and time are not neutral backdrops, but stretch and contract in response to mass — which is itself a measure of dynamic resistance to relational transformation.

Relation is everywhere — not as a feature, but as a ground.


Cosmology as a Mode of Life

If this is so, cosmology is not simply the study of what exists, but the study of how things co-exist — how they arise through participation, influence, and transformation. In this sense, cosmology becomes an ethical project: a way of orienting ourselves to a world in which we are always already entangled.

To insist on relational cosmology is to insist that the way we imagine the universe shapes how we live in it.

It makes a difference whether we see the cosmos as cold machinery or as a dance of co-becoming.
It makes a difference whether we think of knowledge as extraction, or as resonance.
It makes a difference whether we imagine matter as inert, or as communicative.


A Different Question

So the question is not “What is the universe made of?”
The question is:
“What kinds of relationships bring the universe into being?”

We begin here — not with substance, but with resonance; not with inventory, but with encounter. A cosmology not of separation, but of situatedness.

This is not merely a new theory, but a new stance:
to look outward as participants, not spectators;
to sense ourselves as within, not above;
to think, not of what-is, but of becoming-with.

Next, we’ll turn to the story of cosmic origin — the Big Bang — and reimagine it not as an explosion of substance, but as the genesis of relation itself.


2 Rethinking the Big Bang

The Big Bang is often described as the origin of the universe — a single moment in which everything began. Space and time, energy and matter, all bursting forth from a singularity: infinitesimal, dense, and incomprehensibly hot.

But how should we understand such an “origin”?
What kind of beginning was it?

Most treatments of the Big Bang imagine it as an explosion of stuff — the birth of particles, the unfolding of space, the ticking of time. In this view, the singularity is the seed from which all things expanded, driven by forces and governed by laws.

Yet this framing subtly smuggles in a substance ontology. It imagines existence as composed of separable entities, set in motion by prior causes.

Relational cosmology suggests a different reading:
The Big Bang is not the origin of substance, but the origin of relation.


From Nothing to With

It makes little sense to ask what existed “before” the Big Bang. Not just because time began then (as physics tells us), but because the very condition for anything at all is not a prior object, but a relational opening.

To say there was a beginning is to say there was a shift — from nothing to with.
Not from void to thing, but from absence of relation to the presence of co-actualisation.

In this light, the early universe is not a crowded furnace of particles, but a fluid interrelation — a wavefunction of possibility, still undifferentiated. Only gradually do determinate structures emerge: matter, charge, spin, space, time.

Each is a stabilised pattern of relating.

The birth of the universe, then, is not a moment in which things were made, but the moment in which making-with became possible.


Becoming Local, Becoming Tangled

Cosmic evolution is the gradual unfolding of locality — not a decline into disorder, but the differentiation of situated relations.

Gravity does not pull things into existence; it intensifies participation by drawing them into mutual proximity.
Particles do not exist independently, but condense out of fields of relation.
Mass is not a property of an object, but a measure of entanglement with a field.

In this view, evolution is not a story of matter behaving in space and time.
It is a story of space and time themselves becoming textured through relation.


From Myth to Meaning

Every cosmology is a mythos — not in the sense of a false story, but in the sense of a world-making narrative. The Big Bang, too, is a myth — a way of telling the origin in scientific terms.

Relational cosmology doesn’t deny the Big Bang. It reinterprets it.

It invites us to ask:
What if the true origin is not the first thing, but the first with?
What if what banged was not substance, but the possibility of resonance?

This reorientation does not discard physics.
It deepens it — by situating its abstractions within a story of becoming-with, where relation is not a complication, but the very ground of cosmos.

In the next post, we’ll follow this thread from origin to ontology, and consider what it means to say that reality is composed of relations all the way down.


3 It’s Relations All the Way Down

We’re used to thinking of reality as built from smaller and smaller things: molecules from atoms, atoms from protons and neutrons, those from quarks. Dig deep enough, and you’ll hit bedrock — the final substance, the irreducible particle.

But what if there’s no bottom?
What if the further down we go, the less we find things, and the more we find relations?


Abandoning the Bedrock

In physics, particles were once imagined as tiny billiard balls — solid and self-contained. But as theory progressed, this picture became untenable. Electrons have no known size or internal structure. Quarks cannot be isolated. Photons are quantised excitations of fields.

We haven’t uncovered fundamental building blocks.
We’ve uncovered patterns of interaction.

Quantum field theory no longer speaks of particles as things in space, but of fields in relation, where entities emerge as localised expressions of relational dynamics. An electron is not a discrete object so much as a recurrent ripple in a sea of potentiality.

This is not an oddity of quantum physics — it’s a shift in ontology.
The more deeply we examine matter, the more it dissolves into relations.


Entanglement Is Not an Anomaly

Nowhere is this clearer than in entanglement.

Two particles interact, then fly apart — and yet, their properties remain co-defined. Measure one, and you instantaneously constrain the other. This has been experimentally verified time and again. There is no “hidden information” travelling faster than light.

Entanglement is not a loophole in locality.
It is a window onto relational being.

What we call “particles” are not isolated facts. They are nodes in a network, and the state of any node can only be understood through its entanglements with others.

Reality, then, is not made of things.
Reality is made of co-actualisations.


From Particles to Participation

This reframe has profound implications. It means that identity is not prior to relation — it is composed through relation.

A quark is not a quark outside the context of a proton.
An organism is not alive outside its ecological mesh.
A person is not a self outside the weave of language, culture, and care.

The ontology of substance gives us a world of inert objects.
The ontology of relation gives us a world of mutually arising processes.

It is not that things relate. It is that relation is what things are.


There Is No Background

In this light, even space and time lose their status as neutral containers.

Spacetime in general relativity is not a static stage but a dynamic fabric, warped by mass and energy. This warping is not an effect on space — it is space. Time does not flow independently of events — it is the dimension of their unfolding.

Space and time are not where things happen.
They are how relation happens.

There is no background reality that exists independently of interaction.
Everything arises in and through mutual conditioning.

In the next post, we’ll ask how this relational metaphysics reshapes our understanding of physics itself — and how it invites us to read scientific theories not as mirrors of reality, but as maps of meaningful relation.


4 Physics as Relational Mapping

If reality is not built from things, but from relations, then physics is not the study of objects in space. It is the ongoing attempt to map the patterns of becoming in which objects arise.

This doesn’t mean physics is wrong.
It means we must reconsider what kind of truth it offers.


Theory as Interface, Not Mirror

Scientific theories are often imagined as mirrors: polished reflections of the world “as it is,” independent of us. But this objectivist fantasy is hard to defend once we appreciate that observation is always interaction, and measurement is always participation.

What we call “data” is not raw reality.
It is a record of our structured engagement.

In this light, theories are not mirrors but interfaces: symbolic systems through which we stabilise our couplings with dynamic processes. They don’t show us what the world is made of. They show us how worlds unfold when enacted through certain practices.

Relativity tells us how spacetime behaves in relation to mass and motion.
Quantum theory tells us how probability collapses in relation to measurement.
Thermodynamics tells us how energy disperses in relation to gradients and constraints.

Every scientific law is a mapping of relation, not an edict of substance.


Models as Meaningful Constraints

This does not mean all models are equal. Some fit better. Some predict more. But “fit” and “prediction” are not properties of the universe. They are properties of our engaged mappings.

We evaluate models by how well they coordinate our participations.
And we revise them when they fail to do so.

Importantly, a model’s usefulness does not depend on its metaphysical literalness. The Bohr model of the atom — with electrons orbiting like planets — is incorrect. Yet it was crucial in the development of quantum theory. Its power was not in being true, but in being fruitful.

This is the logic of all modelling: we render one domain intelligible in terms of another. This is not distortion — it is analogy in action. Every map is partial. But partiality is what makes navigation possible.


The Observer Is Always Inside the Frame

If theories are relational interfaces, then who is doing the mapping matters. We are not abstract minds gazing from nowhere. We are embodied participants — organisms within fields of relation, observing from within the world.

This is why every scientific act requires a cut:
What counts as a system? What is environment? What is measured? What is ignored?

Even “objective” observations are made from positions — instrumentally, conceptually, affectively. This does not undermine science. It enriches it — reminding us that what we can know depends on how we relate.


Relational Truth

Truth, in a relational cosmology, is not correspondence with an independent reality. It is the ongoing adequacy of relation: the fidelity with which our concepts, models, and theories coordinate meaningful participation.

This is not relativism.
It is relational realism.

The world is not whatever we say it is. But neither is it a brute fact waiting to be mirrored. It is an emergent field of co-actualisation, and knowledge is the art of finding stable, generative paths through it.

In the next post, we’ll ask how this view recasts the concept of law in physics — not as universal dictate, but as conditioned regularity within an unfolding dance of relation.


5 Law as Conditioned Regularity

If the universe is a field of unfolding relations, then the laws of physics cannot be timeless commands imposed upon a mute reality. They must be patterns of regularity that emerge within particular conditions of relation.

A relational cosmology asks us to shift our understanding of law —
from transcendent decree to immanent habit.


The Myth of Universal Law

Classical physics inherited its model of law from theology:
the universe as a system governed by divine reason, expressed in immutable rules.

But even Newton, despite his genius, assumed a fixed space and absolute time — a passive stage on which God's laws played out. Einstein shattered this view: spacetime is not fixed; it curves, stretches, contracts, depending on the presence and movement of mass and energy.

Quantum mechanics dealt another blow: measurement does not merely reveal what is, but helps bring what is into being. Law, here, is not about universal certainty, but probabilistic regularity, enacted in the context of experimental configuration.

What emerges from these revolutions is a vision of law that is not absolute, but relationally enacted.


Conditions of Regularity

A law is not a commandment.
It is a pattern of constraint that becomes visible under particular conditions.

For instance, the laws of thermodynamics appear when we describe matter at scale, where individual atomic randomness becomes statistical order. They are not violated in the quantum realm — they simply do not apply in the same way, because the conditions are different.

Likewise, general relativity and quantum field theory describe different regimes, each mapping consistent patterns that hold under certain scales, speeds, and energies. The apparent “incompatibility” between them may not be a contradiction in reality, but a difference in the relational frame.

This means laws are not inscribed into the cosmos like runes on stone.
They are recurrent stabilities — robust enough to guide action,
but not metaphysical absolutes.


Participation and Stability

The remarkable thing is not that there are laws.
It is that stable patterns emerge at all, in a world of ceaseless becoming.

Why should matter fall predictably, fields oscillate regularly, or particles decay consistently? Not because some legislator set the rules, but because relation itself can self-organise.
Form begets form. Patterns constrain possibilities.
Feedback loops build stability.

In this view, law is an attractor — a basin of relational possibility, sustained by the interplay of systems and constraints. These are not imposed from outside, but generated within the dance of participation.

And what we call "breaking a law" is better seen as entering a new regime: a shift in scale, energy, or context, where different patterns become dominant.


Law as Lure

Law, then, is not limitation — it is invitation.
It invites coordination. It allows predictability. It creates the conditions for cooperation, construction, and world-making.

In a relational cosmos, law is not what binds the world into compliance.
It is what allows the world to stabilise enough to become.

And perhaps this is its greatest gift: not certainty, but trustworthiness — enough regularity to participate, enough openness to evolve.

In the next post, we’ll explore how such a cosmos supports emergence: how new structures and meanings arise, not by imposing form, but through the creative play of relation itself.


6 Emergence as the Play of Relation

If laws are stable patterns that arise within particular relational conditions, then emergence is the appearance of new patterns — patterns not predictable from the parts alone.

Emergence is not an add-on to relational cosmology.
It is its pulse and principle.


From Parts to Patterns

Classical science sought to explain the world by analysing it into parts. But parts, in isolation, do not explain wholes. A pile of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen atoms does not explain the emergence of a living cell. The parts are necessary, but not sufficient.

It is how the parts relate — how they constrain, amplify, stabilise and transform one another — that gives rise to new kinds of being.

Emergence is the moment when relation becomes more-than the sum of its relata.

Not by magic, but by configuration — by the intricate choreography of dependencies, feedbacks, and co-regulations that make the whole a new centre of agency.


Creativity Without Blueprint

In a relational ontology, emergence is not the unfolding of a fixed plan, nor the outcome of blind chaos. It is patterned novelty — the capacity of relation to surprise.

New structures — atoms, stars, cells, ecosystems, minds, meanings — come into being through thresholds of complexity. But these thresholds are not dictated by universal laws alone. They are negotiated through interaction.

There is no blueprint.
Only generative tension: between constraint and openness, stability and play.

This means emergence is not the exception. It is the rule.
The cosmos is not a clockwork machine with a few anomalies.
It is an ever-evolving network, where novelty is intrinsic to relation itself.


Nested Worlds

Emergent forms give rise to new domains of relation.
The emergence of life generates new kinds of sensitivity, metabolism, reproduction. The emergence of mind introduces memory, anticipation, and reflection.

Each of these domains is not reducible to the previous one.
Yet each depends on and transforms what came before.

This creates nested ontologies: worlds within worlds, each with its own kinds of relation, its own patterns of lawfulness, its own forms of becoming.

To think relationally is to think through these layers — not erasing their differences, but holding their co-dependence in view.


Emergence and Ethics

What emerges is not only structure, but meaning.

In each new layer of complexity, the world becomes capable of more — more perception, more expression, more care, more harm. Emergence carries with it the weight of responsibility. To participate in the becoming of a world is to help shape what it makes possible.

In this way, emergence is not only a scientific concept. It is an ethical challenge.

What kinds of worlds are we helping to bring forth?
What configurations do we stabilise, amplify, or suppress?
And how might we participate more wisely in the dance of becoming?

These questions bring us to the final post in the series:
“Cosmos as Kin: Toward a Participatory Metaphysics”

7 Cosmos as Kin — Toward a Participatory Metaphysics

If the universe is a web of relations,
And emergence is the play of novel forms within it,
Then we are not mere observers of the cosmos —
We are participants in its becoming.


From Object to Kin

Traditional metaphysics often casts the universe as a collection of discrete objects — inert, separate, knowable “things.”
Relational cosmology invites a radical rethinking:
The cosmos is a community of relations, a kinship network of becoming.

We are not detached subjects peering in;
We are nodes within the cosmic web, entangled and responsive.

This shift changes everything:
Knowledge is not about representing a static world.
It is about engaging with a world in formation.


Participatory Knowing

Knowing is a dance — a mutual unfolding between knower and known.
Our observations, measurements, and theories do not merely describe the cosmos;
They co-create it.

This participatory knowing dissolves the strict boundary between subject and object, mind and matter, observer and observed.

It calls for humility, curiosity, and openness to the unexpected.


Ethics of Participation

If we are kin with the cosmos, our actions ripple beyond ourselves.
We co-constitute not only knowledge but worlds.

The relational metaphysics demands ethics of participation:

  • To act with awareness of our embeddedness and influence

  • To nurture relations that sustain flourishing

  • To resist domination and fragmentation that harm the whole

Participation is an ongoing practice — a continual negotiation with the world’s becoming.


Toward a New Story

This view invites a new story for humanity:
Not masters of nature, but co-creators with it.
Not isolated egos, but interwoven presences.
Not consumers of a fixed resource, but caretakers of a living community.

Relational cosmology opens a space for wonder, responsibility, and transformation.

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