The Akashic Field Isn’t Mystical. It’s Mathematical.

When More Information Doesn’t Help

We are not suffering from a lack of knowledge. We have more data, more research, more communication infrastructure than any civilization in history. Information is not the bottleneck.

And yet—trust is collapsing, politics is fragmenting into tribes that can’t hear each other, anxiety is epidemic, and meaning is thinning out. We keep adding signal. The noise only grows.

The difficulty doesn’t seem to be about what we know. It seems to be about how what we know holds together. A society can drown in information and still lack coherence, the same way a person can have all the right ideas and still feel internally divided. Nothing is missing. But something isn’t working together.

Coherence—the structural capacity of parts to remain in relationship across difference and change—turns out to be more precise than it first sounds. When it degrades, effort increases while effectiveness drops. Systems don’t collapse from ignorance. They collapse from misalignment.

What if the fragmentation we’re living through isn’t primarily political, economic, or even psychological—but structural? And what if that structure has a language we haven’t yet learned to read?

A Thinker Who Followed Coherence Further Than Most

Ervin Laszló has been asking versions of this question for decades—quietly, rigorously, and with a scope most academics would never risk.

A systems theorist and philosopher of science, twice nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, Laszló’s career traces a single thread: coherence appears at every scale of the natural world—quantum, biological, psychological, social—and this cannot be accidental.

In Science and the Akashic Field, he proposed that the universe requires an underlying information field to account for this coordination. He called it the Akashic Field, and described its currency not as data but as in-formation: the formative patterning that gives things shape before any content appears.

That distinction is sharper than it seems. In-formation isn’t information about something. It’s the constraint that allows something to take form at all—closer to architecture than to message.

Laszló pointed not at what the universe contains, but at what holds it together. He also did something rare: he was honest about where his framework left off. The mathematics of the field, he acknowledged, remained unspecified. Not a failure. An invitation.

What the Invitation Requires

If coherence really operates across scales—linking quantum behavior to neural synchrony to conscious experience—then the field can’t remain poetic. It must have structure. If it has structure, it must be lawful. If it’s lawful, it must be formally describable.

So we reason from necessity. If minds can cohere, fragment, interact, and reorganize—and if that coordination appears at every level—what kind of substrate could support those dynamics?

Followed carefully, the answer is specific. If reality is fundamentally relational rather than material—as Laszló’s framework implies—then the basic units must be relational entities. Not particles. Minds. Each a dimensionless point of structured activity generating waveforms through internal motion—what Leibniz called a monad, what Euler’s formula describes: perpetual rotation expressed as oscillation. Sine and cosine.

And here something clicks into place.

Sine and cosine aren’t just compatible with Laszló’s in-formation. They are in-formation—the mathematical substrate that makes form-giving possible. Phase determines which combinations reinforce, which cancel, and which stabilize into what we eventually recognize as structure, matter, or meaning.

The intuition and the mathematics turn out to be describing the same thing.

This isn’t an addition to Laszló’s insight. It’s what the insight becomes when followed into the formalism he suggested must exist.

How the Field Actually Works

If each mind generates a spectrum of frequencies, then many minds interacting don’t simply coexist. They interfere. Waves overlap: reinforcing where they align, canceling where they oppose. The result is an interference pattern—a structure no single mind creates, but every mind shapes.

You’ve felt this without naming it. A conversation where ideas build on each other with startling ease is constructive interference: minds momentarily in phase. A room full of inexplicable tension is the opposite. Phase—the timing and orientation of signals relative to each other—determines whether systems amplify or dissolve.

Now scale that up.

The total interaction of all minds produces a collective interference pattern. This is Laszló’s Akashic Field—not by analogy, but precisely. The in-formation he named as the universe’s formative substrate is the interference pattern itself: immaterial sinusoidal waves, shaped by phase, generating every configuration of form from within.

And there’s a bridge between this timeless pattern and the world of space and time. Joseph Fourier discovered that any signal can be decomposed into pure sine and cosine waves and perfectly reconstructed. The Fourier transform reveals that sequence, motion, and change are projections of a deeper frequency-domain order. Spacetime isn’t fundamental—it’s what the interference pattern looks like from the inside, the way music sounds when you hear it unfolding rather than seeing its frequencies on a score.

What Opens From Here

Once the field has a language, what was aspirational becomes investigable.

If the collective interference pattern is mathematical, then the brain isn’t generating consciousness—it’s translating it. Neural phase relationships become a window into the mind’s organization, the way a seismograph renders underground motion visible. Neurotherapy—mapping and restoring brain coherence through QEEG and neurofeedback—starts to look like more than clinical intervention. It becomes a way of participating in the structural dynamics of thought itself.

That shift matters.

Laszló described civilizational coherence as a coming phase of planetary development. That vision gains traction once we understand what certain measurements are actually telling us.

Inter-brain synchrony—the finding that minds in genuine contact begin to coordinate their neural rhythms without deliberate effort—has been documented for years. What was missing wasn’t the data. It was a framework that could explain what the data meant.

If the brain translates the psyche’s organization, and the psyche operates by the same wave dynamics as the collective field, then synchronized brains aren’t just mirroring each other neurologically. They’re showing us coherence at the level of the field itself—made briefly visible through the body’s electrical traces.

The measurement existed. The theory that tells us what we’re measuring is what’s new.

A Score Beneath the Music

The pattern that keeps appearing—coherence across scales, coordination where our models predict noise—may have been structural all along. Not mystical. Not coincidental. Lawful.

Laszló heard the music before most of us knew there was something to listen for. What the mathematics offers is the score—the notation that explains why the music sounds as it does, why it sometimes falls apart, and what it would take to compose it deliberately.

That may be the deepest question our century faces. Not whether we can accumulate more knowledge, but whether we can learn to think together clearly enough for the knowledge to matter.

This essay draws on the work of Ervin Laszló, whose writings on coherence, in-formation, and the Akashic Field have influenced how I think about the relationship between mind and world. The ideas explored here—and much more—are developed fully in my forthcoming book, The Quantified Soul.