🍄 The Day the Universe Asked “Why”

Our greatest leap isn’t finding answers, it is daring to ask.

Sep 05, 2025

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In the long view of Earth’s history, the deep time of mountains rising and eroding, oceans filling and draining, forests breathing in the carbon of ancient atmospheres, there’s a peculiar moment when life begins to ask itself questions. That life is us. The questions begin in childhood, often before we know the word “philosophy”...

Why does consciousness exist at all, and why are we here?

Why do we believe beauty matters when evolution could have done without it?

Why do we dream worlds that feel more real than waking life?

Why do we assume the laws of physics are fixed?

Why does love move us more than reason?

Why do we imagine futures that never arrive and pasts that never were?

Why does the act of asking “why” feel like opening a door we can’t close?

Children are fearless thinkers. They ask why without shame, without fear of contradiction. They haven’t yet been trained to avoid the deep water of questions that can’t be neatly resolved. We could do worse than to relearn this bravery. Every “why” we suppress is a narrowing of our possible futures. Some questions get shrugged away by adults, who prefer a comforting illusion that the world is already explained. But the persistence of the “why” is part of what makes our species extraordinary. It’s what Eric Schwitzgebel, professor of philosophy at the University of California, Riverside in Aeon, calls the penumbral plunge, diving into the ring of darkness just beyond the circle of what we can know, reaching for ideas that might never yield final answers. Hello, we’re Alice and we are always in a state of wander.
Shall we take the penumbral plunge?...

Imagination and curiosity are the engine of the “why"

In science, we pride ourselves on the how and the what: methods, results, the elegant elegance of equations or experimental design. Yet imagination and curiosity,
the oxygen of inquiry, arise from the why. Science at its best shares philosophy’s restlessness: the Copernican turn, Darwin’s tangled bank, the ghostly mathematics of quantum mechanics, all were, at root, philosophical questions refracted into data.

But while science often resolves its questions, philosophy remains deliberately unfinished.

It’s not because it’s failing, it’s because it’s just getting started.
We are early-stage philosophers.
The immensity of what we don’t know is not a defect.
It’s the whole point.

The tyranny of how: reclaiming the lost art of “why"

In the day-to-day work of academia, policy, or the corporate world, the why has been pushed to the margins. The how and what dominate: efficient, measurable, predictable. But the future will belong to those who know why. Why this project, not that one? Why does this work matter in the arc of history? Why should we change course before the data forces us to? Purpose turns technicians into visionaries, data into direction, action into meaning. Without the why, we are only rearranging the furniture in a room whose location we don’t understand.

Art, Philosophy, and the existential horizon

Art joins philosophy at the frontier of the why. Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” is not an astronomical map; it’s an act of metaphysical speculation in oil and pigment. Kafka’s Metamorphosis isn’t biology, it’s an inquiry into the absurdity of being. Art makes philosophy visible, visceral. It creates spaces where existential questions can be felt as well as thought. Together, they remind us that to create is also to question.

AI and the infinite question

We may imagine AI constructing every possible argument for and against the existence of God in milliseconds, mapping the logical structure of every moral theory ever conceived. But philosophy is not a search engine for ultimate truths. It’s the process of considering life’s questions, exploring perspectives, and learning to live with the shape of our ignorance. Even with AI in the mix, the curtain will always retreat, revealing another curtain behind it.

If we take the deep-time view, philosophy’s future stretches for millennia. We are not at the end of the story, we are at the prologue. Our responsibility is not to close the great questions, but to keep them alive, enriched, sharpened, and passed on.
Because the asking itself is what makes Earth, not just a planet with life,
but a planet with wonder.

In the end, the why is more than a tool of thought.
It is the pulse of an intelligent planet,
the sound of a species awake to itself.
When we ask why,
we are the universe momentarily aware that it is wondering.

What else we are wandering…

🧠 The penumbral plunge: Philosophy, at its most vital, dwells in the penumbra—the shadowy boundary beyond what is easily knowable—where our curiosity compels us to ask “Why?” without expecting final answers, and where the very act of questioning is itself a profound achievement. To imagine a distant planet, never to be seen or touched, yet hope it holds life—complex, intelligent, self-reflective life—is to value not only joy, beauty, and love, but the restless intellect that wonders about origins, meaning, and the structure of reality. On Earth, this speculative impulse distinguishes us from every other species: we gaze at the stars, wrestle with abstract puzzles, and explore ideas that stretch beyond the reach of science, art, or common sense alone. (from Aeon)

🕰️ Philosophy’s first steps: Philosophy’s apparent lack of progress compared to science is less a failure than a reflection of its radical immaturity: as a young intellectual enterprise in a species only 300,000 years old, it is still in its early-stage, piano-beginner phase, learning the keys, developing basic arguments, distinctions, and methods, and clearing away errors that will prepare future generations for deeper breakthroughs. While science spins off to tackle questions it can answer, philosophy remains with the Big Questions—mind and body, morality, free will, the nature of reality—that resist quick resolution, and its current task is not final truth but building the shared conceptual, methodological, and cultural groundwork for more advanced inquiry. (from Aeon)

📘 On Why “Why” Matters: In both academia and professional life, the how and what often overshadow the more transformative why—yet it is purpose that turns routine tasks into meaningful contributions. When students and professionals alike anchor their work in a clear sense of why it matters—whether uncovering hidden patterns, linking disciplines, anticipating trends, or aligning personal goals with a collective mission—they gain resilience, creativity, and a capacity for leadership that transcend mere skill mastery. (from Medium)

🎨 Art and Philosophy: Existential Questions In Creativity: Art and philosophy intersect as powerful means of exploring profound existential questions about existence, reality, and human experience, with art translating abstract philosophical concepts into tangible, emotionally resonant forms and philosophy providing the frameworks to interrogate them. This dialogue extends into contemporary media—digital art, cinema, and interactive platforms—where technology becomes a tool for depicting complex philosophical narratives and ethical dilemmas, fostering communal reflection in galleries, theaters, and online forums. Together, art and philosophy deepen our engagement with life’s mysteries, urging us to ask not only what we create, but why we create, and how our creative acts shape our understanding of ourselves and our place in the universe. (from Eden Art)

✋ Do You Recall Asking Philosophical Questions as a Child? In Confessions of a Philosopher (1997), Bryan Magee recalls how, as a child, he was captivated by questions about the beginning and end of time and space, wondering how something could arise from nothing, only to be met with dismissive or indifferent responses from adults. Contemporary philosopher Scott Hershovitz notes that children often make exceptional philosophers because they are unburdened by assumptions and unafraid of being wrong, enabling them to ask fearless, foundational questions. (from Philosophy Break)

If you come to philosophy hunting for final answers, you’ll leave unsatisfied,
because its true power lies not in closing the book on life’s mysteries,
but in prying it open wider.
The work is in the wrestling,
in staring down questions that refuse to be tamed,
and in letting them change you.
In the end, philosophy doesn’t hand you the meaning of life,
it dares you to keep asking what meaning could possibly mean.

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