Why the Universe Might Be Finite and Programmed

A deep dive into why “infinite possibilities” might be a myth, how simulation logic explains our world better, and why consciousness—not matter—defines reality.

Photo by Sahand Babali on Unsplash

I want to base today’s post on a YouTube video Ron sent me yesterday evening. I thought it’d be interesting to do something we haven’t done before: take a concept from a video and layer a Maverick-style narrative on top of it—something more conceptual, more systems-oriented, and maybe a little uncomfortable in its implications.

The video centers around the universe, consciousness, and this idea of infinite possibilities. Near the end, the David brings up Schrödinger’s cat, and that’s where I want to jump in.

Most people know the setup: a cat in a sealed box, a mechanism that may or may not kill it, and because you don’t know the outcome, the cat exists in a superposition—dead and alive—until the moment the box is opened. Only then does reality “collapse” into one specific outcome.

But the really strange part comes when you expand that thought experiment outward. Instead of just the cat, include the room the box sits in. Then the building. Then the street, the city, the continent, the entire planet. Every level introduces another potential “split,” another branch of reality. In theory, this could create an unfathomable number of parallel universes—unless those branches eventually collapse back into one mainline outcome.

And this is where the argument begins to fall apart.

Because infinity, as a concept, becomes increasingly suspicious.

From my perspective—please do leave a comment if you see it differently—infinity doesn’t actually exist. Infinity is not a real thing in nature. It’s the label we slap on the edge of our understanding whenever we haven’t yet discovered the boundary. It’s not that something is infinite; it’s that our current knowledge can’t detect its limits.

Once we understand something fully, the “infinite” collapses into the finite.

Think about progress: show someone from 1900 an iPhone, a laptop, a jet fighter, or perhaps even Substack platform itself, and they might say it’s impossible. But once those technologies exist, they become understandable, even predictable. What once looked like boundless potential turned out to be just another step layered on older steps.

The same logic applies to the universe.

The idea of infinite universes—or infinite anything—starts to feel illogical. Everything we know eventually hits a wall. Even our perception of light is bounded by our spectrum of visibility. Light doesn’t stop beyond a certain point; we just can’t see it. The limit is in us, not in the light (or better yet, the frequency).

When you think of it that way, “infinite possibilities” sounds like a convenient coping mechanism for the unknown. And ironically, it makes simulation theory feel far more grounded.

If there are finite possibilities, then the universe begins to look like a computational system. A box. Pre-programmed. Structured. Boundaried. Maybe we just haven’t reached the edges yet.

Video games operate this way. Only the section around the player is rendered. The world feels massive and open, but only a tiny slice exists at any given moment. The rest loads in and out as you move. The field of view follows the player, creating the illusion of endless freedom.

Now extend that metaphor outward. Imagine reality doing the same thing.

Suddenly the idea that “everything is predetermined” doesn’t sound like philosophy anymore. It sounds like architecture.

This leads to another uncomfortable topic: randomness. In traditional computing, randomness is never truly random. It’s a sequence we just don’t see. Randomness exists only from the perspective of the observer who doesn’t know the underlying pattern.

Infinity and randomness have the same root: gaps in our perception.

Computers only function as quickly as they do because we design clever tricks—branch prediction, caching layers, dedicated processing units—to anticipate what will happen next. Intelligence isn’t raw power; it’s optimization. It’s structure. It’s prediction.

And this makes me wonder whether our universe is optimized in similar ways: nested layers, caches, preloaded probabilities, predictable flow.

We’ve never proven the existence of anything infinite or anything random. Both collapse under scrutiny. So why are we still so committed to these ideas?

Near the end of the video, David also touches on Tolkien’s world, and I think he misinterprets it. Tolkien structured his lore in Ages: the First, Second, and Third. The fall of Sauron marks the transition into the Age of Man, following the Age of Elves. Each age represents a shift from higher magic to lower magic. A decline.

This theme—magic fading over time—shows up across mythologies. I see stories like these resonate with so many of us because they touch on something we all intuitively feel and know: that humanity has a deeper connection, a higher sense of meaning, something bigger than ourselves. And over time, the light dims. Our knowledge fades into understanding, and our understanding fades into guessing.

If you zoom out historically, you see this pattern in our own world. Ancient resets, lost civilizations, gaps in memory. Most people can’t remember clearly beyond twenty years of their own lives. The collective amnesia is real. And when people stay comfortable, distracted, and embedded in the default script, they never question the foundations.

Meanwhile, we rely heavily on “experts,” but what does that actually mean? Is an expert someone with a certificate? Or someone who spent too much time in one narrow niche and forgot how to live outside of it? You could learn most topics in a week and fake your title and people would easily believe you. We act like expertise is authority when it’s often just specialization without perspective.

Science doesn’t save us here either. Science isn’t truth—it’s a method of eliminating wrong answers. It’s cross-things-off-the-list-until-we-feel-safe. But everything holds until something breaks the ceiling. And when it does, we tend to patch the old roof, pretend the system is intact, and keep going.

And socially, we’re predictable as hell. We distrust the elites when they create a problem, but we trust them again when they present the solution. Where’s the skepticism in that? It evaporates exactly when it’s most needed.

My point in all this is simple:

Infinity is a comforting illusion.
Finiteness is reality.
And a finite system behaves like a simulation.

Whether that simulation is literal, metaphorical, metaphysical, or consciousness-based—that’s another debate. But the logic is pointing in one direction.

If you want to stay grounded—whether it be in the so-called 5D world or what we refer to as the field—you have to be willing to operate with real boundaries, not endless abstractions. Theoretical speculation is fun, but it won’t give you truth, let alone, the truth. Something always breaks the roof and reveals another one above it.

And when that happens, we have a choice:
Deny it? Fear it? Patch the old roof?
Or finally admit that our universe might not be as godly infinite after all?

I know which answer makes more sense to me.

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Closing Note

By the way—since this whole exploration circles around thresholds, perspectives, and learning to operate beyond the old script—it feels like the right moment to mention something we’re hosting next month soon.

On January 18th, from 19:00 to 20:30 CET, we’re holding our first Maverick webinar: Crossing the Threshold. It’s a session focused on the shift from the familiar 3D script into the autonomous, grounded 5D way of living—how to actually hold yourself in that new space instead of just talking about it.

We won’t be dissecting this post directly, but the themes absolutely overlap. If this piece resonated with you—if you’re curious about how all of this translates into real life, real choices, and real presence—then this webinar will go deeper into that terrain.

I’ll include the link below. Tickets are still available. If you feel called to explore this transition with us, you’re more than welcome to join.

thenexusformula.com/products/crossing-the-threshold