Scientists from the University of British Columbia have apparently proven-mathematically, no less-that the universe is not a simulation. Which is frankly disappointing, because many of us were hoping to at least file a bug report about Mondays.
According to the researchers, reality cannot be replicated by any computer, not even a hypothetical “infinite supercomputer.” Which is exactly the sort of thing a simulated physicist would say to keep the rest of us calm while the rendering engine struggles to load another galaxy in the background.
The scientists assure us that even the most advanced civilization in the cosmos couldn’t possibly run a simulation this detailed. Which is flattering in the same way it’s flattering when your cat thinks it invented the concept of furniture.
They base their grand revelation on Gödel’s incompleteness theorems - those cheerful reminders that there are true things that can’t be proven. Of course, the fact that something can’t be proven has never stopped humanity from building entire religions, political movements, and cryptocurrency startups around it.
So here we are again: scientists and philosophers shaking their equations at the void, declaring with supreme confidence that “this time, we’ve finally cornered reality.”
And reality, as usual, doesn’t return the call.
Dr. Mir Faisel, one of the researchers, was quoted as saying that “the fundamental nature of reality operates in ways no computer could simulate.” Which is a lovely thing to say right before checking your email on a computer.
He added that even an infinite computer couldn’t reproduce the structure of the universe in full detail. Which makes one wonder what kind of infinite computer he had in mind - the big kind or the really big kind? Because if it’s infinite, one would think “size” has stopped being a problem.
But this is the modern age, and the new religion of our time isn’t Christianity, Islam, or Buddhism - it’s Computation. The sacred text is the algorithm; the high priests are data scientists; and every now and then, one of them declares that reality is “uncomputable,” which is their version of saying “God works in mysterious ways.”
The difference is that priests at least have the decency to admit they’re guessing.
The researchers’ key insight is that not everything in the universe can be computed, and therefore reality cannot be simulated in total. Which is roughly equivalent to saying that since you can’t list every possible number, math doesn’t exist.
They point to “truths that can be understood but not calculated,” which sounds deep until you realize it’s also a description of how most people handle their taxes.
But what really stands out is the confidence - the sheer majestic hubris - of declaring that something as vast and absurd as existence can be ruled out with a whiteboard and a coffee machine.
After all, this is the same species that can’t design a printer that works for more than two weeks. And yet here we are, smugly explaining why the entire fabric of space and time couldn’t possibly be running on cosmic hardware.
The philosophers of old wondered whether we were real, whether perception could be trusted, whether God was dreaming us. The modern physicist, meanwhile, opens a spreadsheet and types “=UNIVERSE()” and declares the question settled.
Even better, the researchers cite quantum gravity - the branch of physics that confidently states that time and space might not be “fundamental.” Which is interesting, because if time isn’t fundamental, one wonders how long it took them to write the paper.
They conclude that reality is too subtle, too logically slippery, too gloriously non-algorithmic to be reduced to code. Which is rather poetic, if you ignore the fact that their entire argument is made of code - mathematical code, symbolic code, language code, the same linguistic machinery that could be perfectly simulated if the universe were digital.
It’s the philosophical equivalent of saying, “We’ve proven that words don’t exist, using only words.”
There’s something heartbreakingly human about all this.
Every time we get close to admitting we don’t understand the universe, we immediately invent a new way to pretend that we do.
We’ve gone from “God did it” to “The equations did it” to “Actually, the equations can’t even be run,” and at no point have we stopped to consider that maybe we’re just bad at this.
We’re ants debating whether the anthill is self-aware.
And like ants, we’ve appointed a few particularly loud individuals to insist that, no, the hill is definitely not simulated — and then publish it in a peer-reviewed journal for other ants to applaud.
What makes this especially hilarious is that the simulation theory was never meant to be testable in the first place. It’s a thought experiment - a cosmic shrug with math attached. But humans don’t do “shrugs.” We do “institutes,” “grants,” and “press releases.”
So now, with great seriousness, scientists have issued a paper explaining that the universe cannot be a simulation, which is roughly like a character in The Sims holding a conference to declare that “EA Games does not exist.”
If there really is a cosmic programmer watching us, I can only imagine the laughter. The kind of laughter that makes galaxies wobble slightly.
Because from their perspective, every great scientific discovery we make must feel like an NPC announcing they’ve discovered the pause menu.
And maybe that’s the punchline we keep missing: it doesn’t matter.
Whether we’re simulated, organic, divine, or accidentally assembled by stray quantum nonsense, the results are the same — taxes, heartbreak, Wi-Fi problems, and a faint suspicion that existence is running on outdated software.
Maybe the universe isn’t a simulation - maybe it’s just a prototype. The beta version of reality, full of bugs, plot holes, and user complaints.
And somewhere, deep in the cosmic developer’s notes, there’s a line that reads:
“Known issue: humans occasionally believe they understand what’s going on. No fix planned.”