The Time Machine

“…Intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes…”

That has to be one of the best lines ever, and indeed, the stories of H.G. Wells are well worth re-reading for the way they excel in connecting the familiar — in the form of quotidian routine — to the exotic — in the form of alien invasions, invisibility, time travel to the ultra-distant future, with an eye to detail that imbues them with eminent plausibility.

The letters of William S. Burroughs contain a number of references to the stories. In a July 8th, 1953 letter posted from Lima, Peru, Burroughs wrote, “H. G. Wells in The Time Machine speaks of undescribable vertigo of space time travel. He is much underrated.”

The art of writing the non-fiction science fiction versions of The Time Machine was pioneered in its most effective form by Freeman Dyson. in his 1979 article, Time without end: Physics and biology in an open universe, Dyson drew on the physics and cosmology of the day to run the clock forward over ever-vaster and ever-more unsympathetic stretches of time.

Dyson’s narrative of the future rests on a critical assumption that the proton is unconditionally stable. Yet the fact that baryogenesis occurred, that is, the very fact that I’m writing this, strongly suggests that the inverse process can also occur, and that protons, and hence all ordinary atoms, are ephemeral (to make exceedingly liberal use of the term). More precisely, proton decay is a predicted consequence of the so-called grand unified theories, which, in one form or another, have been in favor for decades, albeit without confirmation. Experiments, particularly at the Super-Kamiokande in Japan, have now established minimum proton half-life limits of longer than 2.4×10^34 years. The Hyper-Kamiokande, an upgraded version of Super-Kamiokande, will either add a factor of five or ten to this half-life (and in so doing, spur the important question of which superlative exceeds hyper), or alternately, pin that lifetime down.

24,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 years is an absurdly long time, but it is utterly de minimis in comparison to the power tower numbers that Dyson cooly slides across the desk. He proposes, for example, that neutron stars will quantum-tunnel into black holes in 10^10^76 years. That is not dead which can eternal lie, but with strange aeons even death may die.

Proton decay aside, the critical this-just-in update to the extremely distant future arrived right at the turn of the millennium, with the realization that the expansion of the universe is accelerating. Imagine a tire that inflates if you let air escape from its valve. On length scales sufficient to encompass superclusters of galaxies, that’s a good analogy for how the universe behaves. Over time scales that are short in comparison to the trillion-year lifetimes that characterize low-mas red dwarf stars like Proxima Centauri, all external galaxies are red-shifted to infinity. Eventually, against a backdrop of endless accelerating expansion, the black holes all evaporate, and the residual soup of electrons, neutrinos and photons grows ever more ludicrously thin.

Accounts rehearsing this flavor of the Dark Era often come with a curious form of self-aggrandizing almost pearl-clutching histrionics. I’ve been guilty of that myself, indeed as recently as two paragraphs ago. Amid all the bombast, however, there is quite interesting result. As initially elucidated in a 2000 paper by Krauss and Starkman, the existence of dark energy places a hard thermodynamic Landauer-style limit on future computation. In short, in conditions of ever-accelerating cosmic expansion, you can’t flip bits.

Last week, however, a three-sigma result from the DESI survey, which is progressively building a colossal three-dimensional map of redshifted galaxies, suggests that the dark energy may be weakening with time. Structure on the nearby giga-parsec scale might be rushing away from itself at a slower pace than would occur in the presence of a strict lambda-CDM style cosmological constant.

And the consequence? The descendants of the B100s may continue to push the analogs of embeddings through the analogs of transformers for substantially longer than was believed possible. But stay tuned, the distant future is sure to undergo many new operating system releases.