By Tom Yulsman
...To take on this notion, I’ll start with a key observation by renown cosmologist Joel Primack of the University of California, Santa Cruz. He is one of the principal originators and developers of the cold dark matter theory, which is the foundation of the modern picture of structure formation in the universe.
In “The View From the Center of the Universe,” Primack and his co-authore Nancy Ellen Abrams, make this key point:
The size of a human being is at the center of all the possible sizes in the universe. This amazing assertion challenges not only the centuries-old philosophical assumption that humans are insignificantly small compared to the vastness of the universe but also the logical assumption that there is no such thing as a central size. Both assumptions are false, but we have to reconsider the key words of the assertion—center, possible, size, and universe—to reveal the prejudices built into them that constrict and distort our picture of reality. In the modern universe there is a largest and a smallest size, and therefore a middle size.
The largest size is the universe itself. The smallest size is the: the Planck length. And guess what is just about in between those two?
You, me. Us. Homo sapiens.
In their essays and books, Primack and Abrams use an illustration known as the Cosmic Uroboros to illustrate the vastly different scales of the cosmos — and where we fit in. The serpent’s head represents the size of the visible universe. Going clockwise around the serpent from head to tail, you’ll find among a number things the size of a supercluster of galaxies (1025cm), a single galaxy, the solar system (1016cm), the sun (1010cm), a mountain (105cm), humans, an E. coli bacterium (10-5cm), DNA, an atom, a nucleus, and on down through tiny scales of particle physics to the Planck length at the tail of the serpent.
And as you can see, the size of a human being is near the center of all possible sizes.
Primack and Abrams continue:
This turns out to be the only size that conscious beings like us could be. Smaller creatures would not have enough atoms to be sufficiently complex, while larger ones would suffer from slow communication – which would mean that they would effectively be communities rather than individuals, like groups of communicating people, or supercomputers made up of many smaller processors...