For a hundred years we’ve treated quantum mechanics as strange but untouchable — a perfect mathematical trick that works but makes no sense. Feynman told us that a particle doesn’t take one route through space; it takes every possible path at once, each interfering with the others. Elegant, yes — but why would nature do that?
From Paths to Folds begins with a bold answer: maybe the universe isn’t calculating probabilities, it’s computing structure. Beneath the smooth waves and curved spacetime of our familiar physics lies something simpler — a binary field of “folds” that flip between two orientations, +1 and –1, the most basic yes/no decisions possible. These folds interact like musical notes; their interference patterns build up the rich harmonies we call particles, fields, and forces. Quantum weirdness becomes a kind of digital resonance — nature’s way of performing its own internal music.
In this view, the void isn’t empty. It’s a living canvas of energy, quietly regulating the flow of entropy — the universe’s measure of change and information. When matter forms, it doesn’t bend geometry; it creates pressure gradients in this hidden field. What we call “gravity” may be the push of the field trying to smooth those gradients, not a mysterious pull at all.
If proven true, this would rewrite the story of physics. The equations of quantum mechanics would stay the same, but their meaning would transform. Reality would be digital like music, not digital like computing — discrete at its core, yet capable of infinite continuity through resonance. Energy, information, and space would finally be three faces of the same underlying process: the universe learning how to balance itself.
It’s a breathtaking thought — that everything from an electron to a galaxy is part of one great entropic rhythm, playing out in a field we are only just beginning to hear.