5th Dimensional Time - LightSpeed & Zero Mass - Physics Vs Metaphysics…

(Authentically Authored - PhD Physics)

There is something ancient and poetic in the image of a particle hurled around a subterranean ring beneath the Alps, encircling the Earth’s crust in silence, just a breath away from the speed of light.

Within the 27-kilometre circumference of the Large Hadron Collider, protons are not merely spun in circles, they are transformed into philosophical entities, caught in the paradox of movement so extreme that motion itself begins to erase the meaning of space and time.

At such unimaginable velocities, 99.999999% the speed of light, a humble proton ceases to experience the world as we do.

What is for us a vast mechanical labyrinth becomes, for it, a contracted sliver of space no longer than 3.6 metres.

This is no illusion, nor mere perception.

It is a fact governed by the principles of special relativity, whose mathematics transforms space and time into pliable fabric, no longer absolute but conditional, bent and reshaped according to one’s speed through the cosmos.

From the proton’s perspective, the ring collapses like a dream dissolving upon waking.

The enormous detectors, the cavernous engineering, the laughter and calculations of the physicists, all of it is compressed into a fleeting whisper of geometry.

In the frame of the particle, it does not race through the collider, rather, the collider itself rushes past the proton.

Herein lies the first philosophical tremor…..

If space and time are not objective, but relational, if a particle can experience 27 kilometres as a few metres, then what, precisely, is real?

Do we privilege the human frame of reference simply because it is ours?

Or must we grant ontological equality to the proton’s view of the world, in which our vast constructions are barely distinguishable from the void?

When distance and duration are functions of motion, do events still possess intrinsic meaning, or are they illusions tailored to perspective?

The Lorentz factor, γ, rises precipitously with velocity.

At the LHC, it reaches nearly 7 500 for a 7 TeV proton.

This means that in the particle’s reference frame, all lengths in the direction of travel are shrunk by this factor, and all processes outside its frame appear slowed, dilated, as though time itself hesitates.

And so we encounter the second philosophical dilemma…….

What is the status of simultaneity?

For us, the proton circles the ring tens of millions of times per second.

For the proton, the ring has all but vanished.

Time is relative, but consciousness is not, or is it?

Push further, and one arrives at the photon, indivisible quanta of light, the emissary of electromagnetism, the very vehicle of visibility.

A photon, by definition, moves at the speed of light. And at this velocity, something extraordinary happens, its proper time becomes zero

This is not a metaphor.

The internal clock of a photon never ticks, no matter how far it travels.

Now, here we must pause, for what we touch is the borderland between physics and metaphysics.

What does it mean to traverse distance without time?

To cross light-years and never age?

To exist entirely outside the causal sequence that defines all human thought and experience?

The photon bears phase, spin, polarisation, properties measurable and meaningful in our frame, yet it cannot experience the process of bearing them.

If all of existence is the experience of change through time, then does the photon experience anything at all?

Or is it the ghost of movement, the idea of passage without process?

Relativity teaches us that the faster we move through space, the slower we move through time.

A spacecraft travelling at near-light speeds begins to witness this in a profound and disorienting way.

Imagine such a vessel, a ship of future minds, propelled by technologies that harness the most exotic engines…. perhaps vacuum energy, perhaps quantum field manipulations.

With a Lorentz factor of 10 000, even the grandest distances in the visible Universe begin to contract.

The fifty-four million light-years to the Virgo Cluster are reduced, aboard this vessel, to a mere 5 400 years of subjective time.

Increase that factor by two orders of magnitude—γ = 10⁶—and that journey shrinks again to just fifty-four years, a time scale graspable by human hands.

Here the philosophical vertigo returns.

The traveller who moves outward at near-light speed will find, upon return, that the Earth they knew has long since passed into history.

Civilisations may have risen and fallen; oceans may have shifted; even species may have changed.

The voyager, meanwhile, has aged only decades.

The symmetry of motion is broken by acceleration, turning around introduces an asymmetry that time records, but the emotional asymmetry is deeper.

Is the traveller’s time “realer” because it is subjectively felt, or is the Earth’s timeline more “true” because it persists within the common continuity of shared planetary evolution?

Does this future traveller escape the human condition, or do they suffer its final form, the alienation from all reference points, from all cultural continuity?

Relativity gives us the equations, the diagrams, the predictions.

But it does not solve the questions of meaning.

What is the identity of a being who crosses light-years without ageing?

What is memory in a world where cause and effect blur across frames of reference?

What is a destination, when, for the photon, there is no departure, only the instant of exchange?

If all space can be collapsed into a moment, and all moments can be stretched into eternity, then what is the substance of our so-called reality?

In all of this, we sense that the Universe is far stranger than it appears.

The proton, in its quiet orbit, is already living in a world where space has vanished and time is stretched thin.

The photon, flickering between stars, never knows the passage of time at all.

And the hypothetical light-speed ship is not just a vessel, it is a philosophical mirror, revealing the fragility of our assumptions about permanence, succession, and experience itself.

To move at light-speed is not merely to go faster.

It is to enter a regime where the foundations of thought, duration, extension, sequence, begin to dissolve.

And as they dissolve, so too does the distinction between motion and stillness, between path and point, between now and forever.

In chasing the light, we do not merely pursue speed, we pursue a new ontology, a new metaphysics of being, in which the very grammar of existence is rewritten.

So the question is not only whether we can travel at light-speed, or nearly so, but whether, in doing so, we remain recognisably human.

Do we carry our sense of time with us, or does it disintegrate?

Do we experience, or do we vanish into the geometry of spacetime itself?

Physics gives us the tools to ask.

Philosophy gives us the courage to wonder.

And perhaps the truth lies somewhere between the flash of the photon and the silence of the proton, spiralling eternally through a ring that no longer exists…..