Nothingness is a Margin of Possibility

Laozi is always in the background of my thoughts. While there are various theories about whether he actually existed, I have been greatly influenced by him.

My words are abstract, and they might just look like a string of characters. While touching on human themes like the heart and the ego, their structure is depicted strictly as a "possibility."

I have not actually confirmed that the "human application" is running as a program.

In short, what I am dealing with is "something invisible." Perhaps even the word "dealing with" is not accurate. However, I believe it can serve as a direction. Therefore, please take what I say from here on with a grain of salt.

Laozi has a famous passage. How one reads it changes how the world is perceived significantly. From here, I would like to begin talking about my personal reading of it.

Is "nothingness" simply the absence of anything? When reading Laozi's "Tao Te Ching," it emerges not as mere zero or nihilism, but as something much richer.

The "Tao" as Possibility

The opening line of the "Tao Te Ching" is extremely famous.

Generally, it is translated as "The Tao that can be named is not the eternal Tao."

However, I read it this way.

"The Tao is a Tao as a possibility, not an eternal Tao."
"The name is a name as a possibility, not a fixed name."

Perhaps Laozi dared to use the character "can" (ke) because he opened up the Tao and the name as "possibilities." The Tao that can be spoken of is a form of possibility, and the moment it is spoken, it turns into something temporary.

Naming and the Cutting of Possibility

To name something is to limit its possibilities.
The moment we give the name "gorilla" to the expanse of "animal," the open diversity of the animal as a whole disappears from view, and only the single point of "gorilla" is cut out.

In other words, naming is an act of fixing a part.
While it makes the world easier to understand, it also means discarding other possibilities.

Thanks to the word "gorilla," we can clearly recognize it. But at the same time, because of that name, the countless possibilities hidden within the expanse of "animal" are obscured.

Something that does not have a name is what truly holds infinite possibilities.

That is why Laozi wrote, "The name that can be named is not the eternal name." Names are always temporary and cannot cover the whole. Naming is the cutting out of a part, a limitation, and an act that establishes a temporary existence in exchange for the margin of possibility.

The Metaphor of the Notebook Margin

Suppose you buy a new notebook and open the first page. How would you feel if it were already filled with someone else's schedule? It would clearly be a defective product, and there would be no room for you to write anything.

If everything from your wake-up time to your lunch menu and how you spend your weekend were already filled in, it would no longer be your notebook. The plans would already be decided, and your freedom would no longer remain there.

That is not a 'Way' as a possibility.

Conversely, what if a blank margin were spread out before you? You could write anything, or choose not to write at all. Sudden changes in plans or spontaneous ideas could be accepted just as they are. Within that, infinite possibilities containing both chance and necessity reside.

'Nothingness' refers to this margin. It is not emptiness, but a neutral field of possibility that is open precisely because it has not yet been written upon.

Nothingness that Embraces Chance and Necessity

Possibility has two faces. One is necessity, which makes plans and gives them form. The other is chance, which throws those plans into disarray.

Nothingness embraces both. It is the foundation that prepares for necessity, while simultaneously being the leeway that invites chance. The 'Way' spoken of by Laozi is nothing other than a totality that encompasses this ambiguity in its entirety.

AI extracts patterns from vast amounts of data and makes probabilistic predictions. While there are behaviors that appear to be chance, they are in reality merely an extension of statistical necessity. AI generation is a 'limited possibility,' not the margin itself.

Humans, conversely, can perceive the space between chance and necessity as a 'margin.' For example, you might make plans to go out on a day off when it might rain, only to suddenly receive an invitation from a friend.

Or perhaps a train is delayed, and you find yourself walking through the city at a time you hadn't planned. The scenery you encounter by chance or the conversations you have at such times can bring unexpected meaning.

A day that did not go as planned can sometimes become the most memorable day when you look back on it. Standing before the blank page of a notebook, you surrender yourself to possibilities that have not yet been decided.

That sensation is the very experience of touching 'nothingness' as a possibility.

Interpretation as Possibility

For Laozi, 'nothingness' was not a lack or a void. That is how I interpret it. It is a 'margin of possibility,' a field that simultaneously contains both chance and necessity.

From there, the 'Way' (Tao) arises, names are born, and the world unfolds.

If AI in the modern age is an 'extension device for necessity,' then the role humans should play is that of 'beings who continue to open up margins.'

That is synonymous with continuing to open up possibilities.

Just as there are rays of light that suddenly shine in, or unexpected events we encounter outside of our planned schedules, perhaps we need to consciously peek into the realms that do not become text or data.

Just as the future that has not yet been written sleeps on the pages of a blank notebook.

The beginning of the 'Tao Te Ching' still quietly speaks that modest truth to our daily lives even now.