| The Universal Pattern That Links Societies, Cells, and Atoms “A law is not universal until it proves itself across both time and space, and across the layers they contain.” The Search That Led Me Beyond Earth I did not set out to explore physics. I was not drawn to theories of time or mysteries of dark matter, and I certainly was not aiming to understand black holes. My journey began with a more grounded and urgent question: why do hundreds of millions of people, especially smallholder farmers in developing economies, remain trapped in poverty no matter how much aid is given, how many new technologies are introduced, or how many reforms are implemented? My questions were rooted in suffering, not in stardust. Naturally, I began by examining the usual explanations, including corruption, poor governance, inadequate education, and failing infrastructure. These clearly played a role, but none could explain why similar patterns of poverty and stagnation recurred repeatedly across different countries and generations. More puzzling still, I noticed that even in the same environment, some communities found ways to thrive while others remained paralyzed. This led me to a deeper question, not about what these communities possessed, but about how they were structured. I was fortunate to grow up in a Kibbutz, a place where prosperity did not arise from material wealth or superior tools but from an unusual form of organization. The Kibbutz endured not because of wealth or technology but because of its structure, its internal logic, its cooperative mechanisms, and its binding sense of purpose. As I worked with rural communities around the world, I began to notice that it was precisely this kind of invisible scaffolding, social, organizational, and directional, that most often separated those who remained poor from those who made lasting progress. Gradually, these insights crystallized into what I now refer to as the Universal Law of Increasing Complexity (ULIC). This law proposes that systems, whether biological, social, or cosmic, grow and evolve only when three conditions are met: a steady flow of energy, a structure capable of organizing and containing that energy, and a direction that channels it toward emergent outcomes. When these elements operate together, systems increase in complexity and capability. But when even one is absent, blocked, or misaligned, energy dissipates, cooperation falters, and regression begins. Initially, I applied this framework to the structures I was trying to improve, including villages, companies, organizations, and institutions. But soon another, more daring question arose. If ULIC is truly a universal law, should we not expect to find it far beyond the human realm? Should it not appear in the very fabric of nature, perhaps even in the unfolding of the cosmos itself? Any law that claims universality cannot begin with humans. It must reveal itself at the origin of everything. This, I came to understand, would be the real test of ULIC. If the law that shapes prosperity also shapes the universe, we would have uncovered something far more powerful than a social insight; we would be touching a pattern etched into reality itself. This realization led me, reluctantly at first, into the realm of physics, not for metaphor or borrowed prestige, but because only by probing the earliest and most fundamental layers of reality could I determine whether the patterns I had observed were truly universal. If the Universal Law of Increasing Complexity can help explain not only how human societies flourish or collapse, but also how stars form, how matter emerges, and even what may have made the Big Bang possible, then it is far more than a practical tool. It becomes a structural law of the universe, one we can apply to nearly everything we do, with the potential to dramatically improve our choices, systems, and future. And so I turned to that most humbling of questions: what existed before the beginning? What made it possible for energy to condense into form, for chaos to give way to order, for something to arise from what appeared to be nothing? Describing the Pattern Beneath Our Institutions Some of the most powerful forces that govern our lives have no physical form. A nation may come into being through a vote or a declaration, but what grants it real existence is not its borders or its armies; it is the recognition and shared belief of others. A company may outlive its founders and employees and persist even when it no longer produces anything; as long as its legal registration exists, so does it. Money, which we rely on every day, holds no inherent value. Its power arises from shared belief. The same is true for constitutions, religions, guiding missions, and cultural values. Though intangible, they shape decisions, structure cooperation, and provide continuity across generations. These forces are not illusions. Though imagined, they function with precision and power. They act as invisible scaffolding, structuring human cooperation across families, cities, nations, and global systems. Their durability stems from being institutionalized within shared systems, laws, norms, procedures, and customs that preserve them far beyond the lives of those who created them. Yet history was not always shaped by the unseen. Before the Linguistic Revolution, humans were limited to communicating what they could directly perceive: a predator nearby, a shelter ahead, a source of food. Their cooperation was tethered to material realities. With the emergence of language came a radical shift: the ability to speak of what was absent or invisible, the spirit of an ancestor, the will of a god, a future obligation, or an abstract principle. Gradually, humans learned to use symbols, rituals, and eventually myths to craft shared narratives and values, stories that could transcend the individual and endure through time. This breakthrough enabled cooperation at a new scale. Humans could now act together not only in response to what they saw but also in service of what they believed. From this capacity emerged new structures: tribes bound by custom, clans led by elders, and city-states governed by law. These systems were not merely responses to material conditions but expressions of the human ability to institutionalize imagination. We began to gather not just around fire, but around flags, ideas, and shared visions. The result was a dramatic increase in complexity. For the first time, humans formed large-scale societies built not on kinship or brute force but on shared symbols and structured meaning. These ideas had to be made durable. They were written, ritualized, and taught so that they could coordinate effort and transmit purpose across generations. Myth became law, ritual became governance, and story became the infrastructure of economies and nations. As Yuval Noah Harari observes, humans dominate the planet not because of physical superiority but because of our unique ability to cooperate around shared fictions. Yet belief alone is not sufficient. It must be institutionalized in structures that can enforce, endure, and adapt. A constitution, a contract, or a marketplace, these are beliefs made functional. They allow goals to outlast individuals, coordinate millions without direct contact, and generate coherent expectations that make civilization possible. Chinese history illustrates the same principle: the codification of Confucian ideals into the bureaucracy of imperial governance transformed cultural values into durable institutions that guided one of the longest-lasting states in history. What emerges from this is not a cultural curiosity but a recurring mechanism. Complexity grows when energy is channeled through structure toward direction. What begins as a myth may mature into a constitution; what starts as a ritual may evolve into governance or law. This transformation is not accidental. It follows a deeper logic, a structural conversion of belief into form, enabled by collective energy and guided by direction. We recognize this pattern only because the Universal Law of Increasing Complexity (ULIC) provides us with the lens to see it. But humans do not stand apart from nature. Everything we build unfolds within the constraints of biology, chemistry, and physics. If ULIC is truly universal, it must appear not only in the rise of institutions but also in the deepest layers of existence. If we find the same triad, energy, structure, and direction, in the way molecules form, cells replicate, or stars ignite, the implications are profound. ULIC ceases to be a social theory. It becomes a structural law that bridges the scaffolding of our beliefs with the very architecture of the cosmos. And for those who see the universe as intentionally created, this recurring emergence of complexity may hold deeper meaning. Perhaps the conversion of imagination into form is not merely human; it may be a form of participation in the universe’s design. Whether viewed scientifically or spiritually, the message is the same: when we align energy, structure, and direction, we are not just building societies; we are following a law that may govern all of existence. If that is the case, then we must look beneath belief, beneath life, and beneath even the atom to ask: does this pattern echo in the very foundations of reality? The Architecture of Complexity in Nature If the structures that govern societies reflect a universal pattern, then we should expect to find similar architectures wherever energy, structure, and direction converge. Before proceeding, it is worth clarifying what we mean by emergence. Emergence is the rise of new properties or capabilities that cannot be predicted from the system’s parts in isolation. It is the leap from components to something qualitatively different, the outcome of energy, structure, and direction working in alignment. For example, no individual cell in your body can think or feel, but when billions are organized into the structure of a brain and guided by direction, consciousness emerges, something entirely new and irreducible to the cells alone. In nature, complexity does not arise from disorder but from the convergence of energy, structure, and direction. Energy must flow through systems that can organize, store, and transmit it, but this is not enough on its own. That flow must also be oriented, shaped by rules or constraints that determine how energy moves and what it can become. At the level of physics, atoms are not arbitrary assemblies of subatomic particles. They are structured systems, with nuclei surrounded by electrons in precise configurations. These arrangements are governed by the laws of quantum mechanics and electromagnetism, which both contain and guide energy, specifying how it interacts and transforms. Without structure, energy disperses. Without energy, complexity unravels. Without direction, a stable structure may endure, but it becomes inert, unable to adapt or give rise to anything new. Only when all three elements, energy, structure, and direction, are present and aligned can stability give way to emergence, and from emergence to higher levels of complexity. The same logic governs chemistry. Molecules do not form through chance encounters alone, but through bonds and alignments that permit energy to circulate in sustainable and predictable ways. Carbon, often described as the backbone of life, owes its importance not only to its abundance but to the versatility of its atomic structure. This structure allows it to form long, stable chains that can encode information and sustain dynamic biochemical reactions. Yet structure alone is insufficient. Without environmental conditions that supply energy and a context that provides direction, the potential of these molecules remains dormant. As we shift to biology, the pattern becomes even more pronounced. A living cell is not merely a container of molecules; it is an intricately organized system capable of capturing energy, maintaining internal order, replicating its own structure, and evolving in response to its environment. The transition from unicellular to multicellular life demanded another leap in structural sophistication. Cells had to specialize, communicate, and align with one another under shared genetic programs and within complex ecological constraints. The result was not simply an increase in size, but an expansion in functional capability and resilience. This transformation was not achieved by adding energy alone, but by enhancing the coherence of structure and the clarity of direction. Yet the story of life also illustrates failure. The fossil record shows that the vast majority of species that once existed have gone extinct, not because they lacked energy or ingenuity, but because their structures could not withstand new pressures or adapt to changing environments. ULIC does not promise survival. It sets the conditions for emergence, but whether those conditions are sustained determines whether systems endure or collapse. At every scale of the natural world, from atoms to organisms, we find the same underlying triad at work. Energy enters the system, structure organizes it, and direction channels it toward new possibilities. This is not a metaphor but a recurring mechanism, a pattern so consistent across domains that it begins to resemble a law. Each time it reappears, it produces higher levels of complexity, new emergent behaviors, and capabilities that could not have been predicted from the parts alone. So far, this principle has helped explain why atoms remain stable, why life forms evolve, and why civilizations take shape. Yet the most profound test of the Universal Law of Increasing Complexity may lie beyond all these domains. If the pattern holds across social, biological, chemical, and physical layers, then we must ask whether it also sheds light on the origin and trajectory of the universe itself. It is a question we might ignore, but humanity has never advanced by avoiding the difficult or the unknown. It is by asking the most fundamental questions that we uncover the most universal truths. Toward the Origins of the Universe If a law is to be truly universal, it must show itself at the deepest level, the origin of the universe itself. If energy, structure, and direction exist wherever complexity appears, then the question is: did these conditions also enable the first leap from nothing to something, from chaos to order, from potential to form? The challenge is immense. What existed before the first structures? What allowed energy to take shape, for chaos to turn into order, for something to come from nothing? These are tough questions, but they must not be ignored. Humanity has always advanced by asking what lies beyond the visible and the certain, and by pushing inquiry into the unknown. The Universal Law of Increasing Complexity does not replace cosmology or fully explain the origins. Instead, it offers a structural perspective that clarifies the question of beginnings. The pattern itself is not questioned; we observe it in atoms, molecules, cells, societies, and civilizations. Energy contained within structures and guided by direction repeatedly leads to new capabilities. What remains uncertain is how we interpret this pattern: as a scientific law, as a structural principle, or as a guiding story about how the universe progresses. The implication is profound. If ULIC holds as a law, then the same structural principles that direct how societies organize, how cells reproduce, and how atoms remain connected also influenced the earliest stages of the universe. If we consider it a principle, it serves as a tool to craft resilient systems today. And if we view it as a guiding story, it reminds us that our smallest decisions echo the same architecture that shaped stars and galaxies. In every case, the way we construct matters. When we build systems that store energy, provide structure, and direct flow, we are not just solving local issues. We might be interacting with the same architecture that has enabled life, prosperity, and resilience across all scales. It is also important to remember that universality does not mean inevitability. The fossil record shows that most species have gone extinct, and history shows that many societies have collapsed. Failure and breakdown are part of the same logic because complexity only persists when the conditions re sustained. This is why a law claiming universality must prove itself not only through its successes but also through its failures. It has to be valid across both time and space, and through the layers they contain. Viewed from this perspective, whether we refer to the ULIC as a law, a principle, or a story, the pattern's continuity remains remarkable. From the fields of a Kibbutz to the rise of civilizations, from cell replication to the birth of stars, the same triad appears repeatedly: energy, structure, and direction come together, and when they do, new possibilities emerge. * I strive to stay true to the facts and the reality they reveal. If you find an error or see a need for clarification, your insights are welcome. |
