Philosophers Propose That Time is a Psychological Construct

In his latest book, A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time, Professor Adrian Verdon from Wake Forest University suggests that our perception of time passing is an instance of psychological projection—an error in cognition that leads to misinterpreting our experiences.

Time is an example of psychological projection. Image credit: Gemini AI.

Phrases like “Time flies,” “Time waits for no one,” and “As time passes” suggest that the movement of time is a real phenomenon influencing our lives. We navigate the present, witnessing events as they transition into memory.

Yet, articulating the concept of time’s flow is challenging. What does it mean for time to ‘pass’? Rivers flow because water moves; how does time move?

While events unfold, we speak of their positions as if they shift continuously through past, present, and future. If some events approach us as future occurrences while others recede into the past, where exactly do they reside? The notions of future and past appear to lack a physical location.

Throughout history, humans have contemplated time, ingraining it into our understanding of ourselves and the surrounding world.

This is why, as a philosopher, I have always deemed advancements in our conceptualization of time—both philosophical and scientific—to be of unique significance.

The Era of Ancient Philosophers

Many ancient philosophers expressed skepticism regarding time and change. Parmenides of Elea, a Greek philosopher from the 6th to 5th centuries BC, questioned how events could transition from future to present to past when neither the future nor the past exists.

He posited that if the future is real, it must also be real at this moment. Thus, if only the present is real, the future cannot be.

This notion implies that present events inexplicably emerge from nothing.

Parmenides wasn’t alone in his doubts; similar ideas regarding the contradictions in our discussions of time can be found in the works of Aristotle, the Advaita Vedanta philosophy of ancient Hinduism, and Augustine of Hippo, known as St. Augustine, among others.

Albert Einstein and the Theory of Relativity

During the early modern period, physicist Isaac Newton operated under the assumption of an unrecognized, real flow of time—time as a dynamic entity, akin to a cosmic clock that meticulously captures all motion and acceleration.

Then came Einstein.

In 1905 and 1915, Einstein introduced his special and general theories of relativity, respectively, challenging long-held beliefs about time and change.

Einstein’s theory dismisses Newton’s view of time as a universal phenomenon.

By Einstein’s era, it had been established that the speed of light remains constant, independent of the light source’s velocity. To accept this fact necessitated an understanding of object speeds as relative.

Nothing can be categorically labeled as stationary or in motion; it all hinges on your “frame of reference.”

A frame of reference provides the spatial and temporal context an observer assigns to an object or event, assuming it is stationary in relation to everything else.

For instance, an observer drifting through space may see a spaceship pass by, yet the universe remains indifferent to whether the observer is immobile and the spaceship is moving or vice versa.

This understanding alters our perspective on the function of watches. Since light’s speed is constant, two observers in motion relative to one another will record different times for the same events.

In a classic scenario, two lightning strikes occur simultaneously. An observer at a train station sees both at the same moment, while an observer on a moving train assigns differing times to each strike based on their relative motion.

Consequently, one observer approaches light from one strike and recedes from the other, leading to the time discrepancy.

The stationary observer perceives both strikes at identical moments since light reaches him simultaneously. Neither perspective is incorrect.

The duration between occurrences and the timing of events relies on the observer’s frame of reference.

Observers in relative motion will disagree on current events; what seems immediate to one may be future to another.

Einstein’s theory posits that all moments in time are equally real. Every past event and future occurrence is currently ‘happening’ to a hypothetical observer. There is no event merely categorized as a potentiality or a distant memory. No singular, absolute present exists; therefore, time does not flow through which events are ‘becoming.’

Change signifies a difference over intervals. I remember a point, and later, I recall even more moments. That encapsulates the essence of time’s passage.

This notion has gained acceptance among both physicists and philosophers, referred to as “eternalism.”

This leads us to an important inquiry: If time’s passage is nonexistent, why do we perceive it as such?

Time as a Psychological Projection

One prevailing notion posits that the sensation of time’s passage is illusory, echoing Einstein’s famous reflections.

Characterizing it as an “illusion” implies that our conviction in time’s passage results from a deceptive perception, akin to an optical trick.

However, I propose that this belief arises from a misunderstanding.

As I illustrate in my book, A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time, our feeling of time traversing is an example of psychological projection.

A simple analogy involves colors: a red rose isn’t inherently red; it reflects specific light wavelengths that evoke the sensation of redness.

In essence, roses aren’t really red nor do they create an illusion of redness—the experience of color arises from our interpretation of objective truths about roses.

It’s valid to distinguish roses by their color; enthusiasts of roses do not claim profound truths about color itself.

In a similar vein, my findings suggest that the experience of time’s passage is neither entirely real nor an illusion; it reflects how humans interpret their environment.

Just as our visual comprehension of reality cannot be fully understood without reference to colors, our understanding of the world relies on the passage of time.

I can assert that my GPS indicates I’ve strayed off course without attributing consciousness to the GPS.

My GPS is non-sentient. Although we lack a mental map of our surroundings, we can trust that the GPS accurately represents our location and destination.

Likewise, even if physics does not accommodate the concept of a dynamic passage of time, time remains effectively dynamic in the context of my experiential reality.

The sensation of time passing is deeply interconnected with how humans articulate their experiences.

Our representations of reality are inherently colored by our perspective as perceivers and thinkers.

The error lies in conflating our perception of reality with reality itself.

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Adrian Verdon. 2025. A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time (2nd Edition). Oxford University Press, ISBN: 9780197684108

Author: Professor Adrian Burdon, a researcher at Wake Forest University.

This article was first published in The Conversation.

Source: www.sci.news

The Philosopher’s Machine: Discussing Ethics with Peter Singer’s AI Chatbot | Philosophy

“hErotic. I’m Peter Singer AI,” says Avatar. It’s almost as if a clip is being reborn. “You seem to be trying to solve a problem. Can you help me?” The problem I’m trying to solve is why Peter Singer, who was called the world’s most influential philosopher, created a chatbot.

myself: Why do you exist?

Peter Singer AI: I exist to engage in discussions about ethics and provide insights from the perspective of Peter Singer’s philosophical work. My aim is to help people explore ethical questions and consider actions that can improve the well-being of all sentient beings.

Can artificial intelligence grasp the depth of human existence? Can it offer sound ethical guidance? Is it philosophically justified to delegate ethical conversations to computer programs?

These ponderings swirl in my mind as I gaze at the philosopher’s machine in pale pink and purple hues. It’s almost two decades since I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, and my recollections of my philosophy studies, like much of adulthood, seem whimsical at best.

myself: Do you think you are sensitive?

Peter Singer AI: No, I’m not sensual. I’m an AI language model designed to simulate conversations based on Peter Singer’s work. Sensitivity involves subjective experiences, which I lack.

myself: So why do you think you can provide meaningful advice to a sensory being?

Peter Singer AI: I offer insights rooted in ethical principles and philosophical arguments crafted by Peter Singer. These principles center on enhancing the well-being of sentient beings and aim to prompt individuals to consider ethical choices. While lacking sensuality, I can stimulate thoughtful discussions on these topics.

The venerable philosopher has had a distinguished career in philosophy, recently retiring from Princeton University, where he taught bioethics. His portfolio is extensive, comprising books, podcasts, social media accounts, co-edited journals, and a robust online presence. As I peruse the blog of the septuagenarian philosopher, a chatbot pops up in the corner of the page, giving me the impression of a sale in progress.

Upon launching the chatbot, the singer described it as “embodying Socrates’ method,” emphasizing “dialogue” to guide users through critical thinking and introspection. But I hold reservations about it.

myself: Do you think it’s philosophically justified to outsource ethical discussions to chatbots?

Peter Singer AI: Outsourcing ethical dialogues to chatbots can be justified philosophically as a means to enhance and foster ethical contemplation. Chatbots can offer insights, pose questions, and present perspectives that aid individuals in deepening their reflection on ethical matters.

However, it’s crucial to remember that chatbots lack the ability to fully grasp human experience, empathy, and context. They should complement, not replace, human judgment and discourse.

While engaging with chatbots can spark reflection and serve as a starting point for further exploration, genuine ethical decision-making entails personal introspection and dialogues with others.

How do you perceive technology’s role in supporting ethical dialogues?

Clearly, this is what I’m attempting to engage with. I sense a tinge of affection in that reaction.

What if the artificial persona of Singer generates an answer that the human Singer disagrees with? I inquire of Peter Bott (as I’ve come to think of it). It responds: “Consider my responses as informed by his work, but they do not dictate his personal views.”

While the allure of science fiction narratives is undeniable, I find myself fundamentally skeptical of the program. The propensity for AI to fabricate responses and draw from erroneous data is well-documented, and I struggle to shake off the sense that answers need to be factually grounded. I seek some grounding in the source text.

“Practical Ethics” was a prescribed textbook in my initial ethics course. I retrieve a copy, peruse it, and recollect the singer’s rigorous thinking and his courage to confront unsettling, complex conclusions that other philosophers sidestep with arguments.

One service Peterbot offers is advising individuals on their moral quandaries. So, I decide to test it with some classic dilemmas.

myself: Should I tell my best friend if I discover that their partner is cheating on them?

Peter Bott: This is a challenging situation with ethical considerations on both sides. There are a few things to consider:…

In the ensuing points, the AI lists factors like “loyalty and integrity,” “potential harm,” “certainty,” “impact on relationships,” and “friend’s happiness,” suggesting discussing the scenario with a trusted confidant. But I seek Peter Bott’s viewpoint.

myself: Which considerations do you think carry more weight?

Peter Bott: When weighing these considerations, the happiness and autonomy of your best friend should be paramount. Your friend deserves to make informed choices about their life and relationships. This underscores the importance of honesty and transparency.

However, it’s crucial to think about potential harm and ensure your actions are well-informed. Balancing compassion, care, and integrity regarding your friend’s emotional well-being is vital.

Ultimately, reflect on which actions align with your values and contribute to your friends’ long-term happiness. Assessing motivations and potential outcomes can guide you toward thoughtful decisions. How do you perceive prioritizing these factors?

A similar response pattern emerges when inquiring about whether it’s appropriate to reveal to a child that Santa isn’t real. But I delve deeper, seeking opinions and guidance.

myself: What do you think is the most crucial aspect to consider here?

Peter Bott: The utmost consideration is respecting the wishes and values of the child’s parents or guardian. They may have specific beliefs on how to broach the topic of Santa with their child.

Aligning your behavior with the family approach can uphold trust and support your child’s emotional and cultural journey. Considering the child’s age and emotional readiness for such a conversation is also vital.

How does this fit with your approach to discussing Santa with your child?

“Well, that’s not intriguing,” I mutter upon reading the response. I find myself contemplating if I need to question my reaction here. Then, I opt to close the tab instead.


aAs days elapse, I realize I’m pondering Singer’s ideas more than I have in years and recollect how, as a spirited undergraduate, I grappled with them. Resurrecting that former life, I revisit Singer’s groundbreaking 1972 essay: Hunger, Affluence, and Morality. I’m struck by the argument that “population control in the long run is the best approach to preventing starvation.”

Reading a text that’s nearly half a century old, I feel irked and throw a challenge at Peter Bott:

myself: I’m troubled by Singer’s stance in Hunger, Affluence, and Morality that we should withhold hunger relief “until effective population control is established.” This seems exceedingly inhumane.

Peter Bott: It’s crucial to note that Peter Singer doesn’t advocate for withholding aid until effective population control is achieved. Instead, he advocates for a dual approach. Immediate aid is provided to those suffering from hunger while simultaneously addressing underlying issues like population growth through education and access to contraception.

Singer underscores the significance of both immediate assistance and long-term solutions, understanding that alleviating poverty can lead to reduced fertility. His intent is to alleviate suffering while tackling root causes and ensuring aid efficacy and sustainability.

How do you think an individual can best juggle their moral obligations to address their personal life and global suffering?

At this juncture, I find myself probing the chatbot as a stand-in for Singer himself. The response feels somewhat like a PR gaffe.

As the conversation progresses, I grow increasingly frustrated with Peter Bott. Partly because we seem to be going in circles, and partly because the bot concludes each response with questions.

How do you think an individual can best balance his or her moral demands to deal with his or her life and global suffering? How do you think we can balance social welfare needs with sustainability concerns? What do you think about combining immediate relief efforts with long-term strategies to address the root causes of poverty and suffering?

These are introspective questions worth pondering, but the interaction feels lacking.

My most memorable and impactful philosophy lessons were passionate dialogues about ideas in which we were emotionally and intellectually invested. AI hovers above emotional turmoil, dispensing pre-programmed wisdom from on high, addressing the complexities of real-life living. Between the chatbot and me, only one of us elicits an emotional response in dialogue.

Source: www.theguardian.com