Law & Disorder - Science News
Physicists  keep trying to explain  why time flows one way
Before the BangSome  theories propose that the known universe is just a baby bubble of  spacetime that budded off a preexisting space. Other baby universes  might have formed the same way, but some with time flowing in the  opposite direction, preserving time symmetry for the entire cosmos. Kelly Ann McCann In a famous  passage from his 1938 book 
The Realm of Truth, the  Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana compared time to a flame  running along a fuse. The flame’s position marked the present moment,  speeding forward but never backward as the fuse disappeared behind it.  “The essence of nowness,” Santayana remarked, “runs like fire along the  fuse of time.” Each spark along the fuse represents one of the “nows”  that transform the future into the past and “combine perfectly to form  the unchangeable truth of history.”
It’s far from a perfect  analogy. A flame flitting along a wire doesn’t fully capture the quirky  features of time that perplex physicists pondering relativity and  quantum mechanics, for example. But Santayana’s sparks do illustrate one  of time’s most enduring and puzzling properties — its irreversibility.
Time  always, always marches forward into the future. You can travel into the  future just by breathing, but the past is accessible only in memories  and other records. Time flies in one direction — like an arrow — and  never makes a U-turn. Popcorn never unpops, eggs never unscramble and  you can’t put an exploded stick of dynamite back together again.
“This  difference between the past and the future shows up in physics, it  shows up in philosophy, it shows up in biology and psychology and all  these different things,” says theoretical physicist Sean Carroll of  Caltech. “The arrow of time absolutely pervades the way that we think  about the universe.”
But peculiarly, the physical laws governing  the universe do not recognize this temporal imperative. Equations  describing the forces that guide matter in motion work just as well  going backward in time as forward. A microworld video of bouncing  molecules would need time stamps to distinguish forward from reverse —  on a molecular scale, time has no direction. In the big world of  bouncing basketballs, though, the clock is always running, and its hands  never reverse the direction of their rotation.
For more than a  century, the emergence of time’s arrow from time-blind laws of nature  has confused physicists and philosophers alike. And even though it seems  that more solutions for this mystery have been proposed than apps for  the iPhone, new attempts at explanation continue to appear as regularly  as clockwork. Some of the latest proposals suggest that time’s mystery  may be an essential subplot in an even grander drama involving the  origin of the cosmos itself.
Time gets messy
Although  there’s no complete agreement on the precise source of time’s arrow,  most experts concur that it has something to do with entropy, the  ever-increasing disorder of things required by the second law of  thermodynamics. As time goes by, disorder increases (or at least stays  the same) in any system isolated from external influences.
Sadly,  though, explaining time’s arrow by appeal to the second law alone  doesn’t solve the puzzle. Sure, rising entropy defines a direction of  time, but only until everything is in a state of equilibrium — in  technical terms, all messed up. And as the Austrian physicist Ludwig  Boltzmann explained in the 19th century, “all messed up” is by far the  most probable way for things to be. It should be an enormously lucky  break, like drawing a royal flush on every hand in an all-night poker  game, for the entropy of the universe to be perceptibly less than the  maximum amount possible. So by all odds, everything should already be  all messed up —and there should therefore be no arrow of time.
But  that’s not the way the universe is. As messy as things are, they aren’t  as messy as they could be, and so the fuse of cosmic time can continue  to burn. In other words, entropy in the universe was low enough in the  past to have plenty of room to keep getting higher, and it is that quest  toward disarray that drives time’s arrow in its singular direction.  Explaining time’s arrow requires not only the second law, then, but also  some reason why entropy used to be so much lower — specifically, why it  was low when the universal clock began ticking with the lighting of the  cosmic fuse in the Big Bang.
“Trying to understand why you can  mix cream into coffee but not unmix them takes us back to the Big Bang,  takes us back to questions of the origin of our observable universe,”  Carroll said in February in San Diego at the annual meeting of the  American Association for the Advancement of Science.
Before  the Bang
From the instant of the Big  Bang, about 13.7 billion years ago, space has been expanding. Invoking  this expansion to explain the flow of time in daily life has become a  standard strategy for solving time’s mystery. That approach dates to  half a century ago, when astronomer Thomas Gold was apparently the first  to link the thermodynamic arrow of time defined by the second law to  the cosmic arrow defined by the Big Bang–induced expansion. In various  forms, this approach argues that expanding space allows entropy to  increase however low or high it started. Even if entropy starts high,  expansion permits it to grow even higher. Consequently it continues to  rise, and the universal clock keeps on ticking.
Carroll, though,  in his new book 
From Eternity to Here, points out (as others  have before him) that this solution simply assumes the existence of  time’s direction without explaining it. Basically it just defines the  Big Bang as a point in the “past” from which time flows in one  direction. That scenario does not preserve the parity between the two  time directions found in the universe’s basic equations. Finding a  complete explanation, Carroll proposes, will require reaching even  farther back into time, to before the Big Bang.
“You often hear  cosmologists say that the Big Bang is the moment when space and time  began, there’s no such thing as before the Big Bang,” Carroll said at  the AAAS meeting. “The truth is the Big Bang is the moment where our  understanding ends. We don’t know what happened before the Big Bang, but  it’s absolutely possible that something did.”
In fact, many  cosmologists today seriously study the possibility that all sorts of  things happened before the Big Bang, and that the universe it created is  just one among a multitude of distinct spacetime bubbles, coating the  surface of eternity like the froth on a mug of beer 
(SN: 6/6/09, p. 26). This complex “multiverse”  could contain countless individual universes, each born in a Big Bang of  its own in the form of a baby bubble that then severed the umbilical  wormhole linking it to a primordial emptiness.
That emptiness,  Carroll suggests, would be a high-entropy environment technically known  as de Sitter space. “Empty,” however, does not convey a precisely  correct description. Because of quantum physics — specifically, the  Heisenberg uncertainty principle — an utterly empty space is  impermissible. Fluctuations of energy are unavoidable, and on rare  occasion one such fluctuation will be huge enough to burst a whole new  spacetime bubble into existence — a baby universe. That baby could  expand into just the sort of thing that human physicists see in the one  bubble they can examine from within.
“Every so often a fluctuation  will make a little dollop of universe here, dominated by energy that  makes it expand really, really fast,” Carroll explained. “That energy  can stick around for a while before it turns into ordinary matter and  radiation, and the whole scenario would look just like our Big Bang.”
In  this way, the high-entropy empty spacetime that existed before the Big  Bang can always increase its entropy even more — by giving birth to a  baby universe. Although the baby would have low entropy, the total  entropy of the system (mother de Sitter space plus baby) would be  higher, preserving the second law. After pinching itself away from the  mother space, the low-entropy baby will expand and the second law will  drive a direction of time as the baby’s entropy rises. Eventually, the  baby universe’s entropy will reach a maximum, becoming just like its  timeless de Sitter space parent. And then it could give birth to baby  universes of its own.