The traveller had now visited the Gate of Beginning, the Valley of Clocks, and the House of Nothing.
He had learned that before was not a place.
He had learned that nothing was not a condition in which the universe could simply wait.
But one answer still remained.
Perhaps, he thought, there had been something that caused everything.
This seemed different.
A cause did not need a place called before.
Perhaps the first cause had simply existed.
Perhaps it had always existed.
Perhaps it had existed outside time.
Perhaps it had existed necessarily.
The traveller did not know.
But he knew where causes could be found.
Everywhere.
So he set out to find the first one.
His journey brought him to a great city.
The city was filled with workshops.
In one, a carpenter made chairs.
In another, a potter made bowls.
In another, a mason built walls.
Everywhere he looked, something was being made.
He entered the workshop of a blacksmith.
A hammer struck iron.
“What caused the spark?” asked the traveller.
“The hammer.”
“And what caused the hammer to move?”
“The hand.”
“And what caused the hand to move?”
“The blacksmith.”
“And what caused the blacksmith to strike?”
The blacksmith laughed.
“A great many things.”
The traveller watched the hammer fall again.
Spark.
Iron.
Hammer.
Hand.
Blacksmith.
One thing leading to another.
He walked through the city asking the same question.
“What caused this?”
Everywhere he found an answer.
A baker caused the bread.
A builder caused the house.
The wind caused the tree to fall.
A match caused the fire.
A farmer caused the field to be planted.
The traveller began to feel that he was getting close.
The world, he thought, was a vast chain of causes.
Perhaps all he had to do was follow it backwards.
So he walked.
Past the workshops.
Past the city.
Past the fields.
Past the mountains.
He followed the chain until the causes became harder to see.
At last he came to a tower standing on a hill.
At the top was a door.
Above it was written:
THE FIRST CAUSE
The traveller knocked.
The door opened.
Inside stood an old man.
“Are you the First Cause?”
The old man smiled.
“So I am told.”
“Did you cause the universe?”
The old man considered the question.
“I cause many things.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“No.”
The traveller stepped inside.
“Then tell me: what caused you?”
“Nothing.”
The traveller smiled.
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“That the First Cause would have no cause.”
The old man shrugged.
“Why should it?”
“Because then you would not be first.”
“First according to what?”
The traveller stopped.
The old man gestured towards a table.
On it were two stones.
He moved one stone.
It struck the other.
The second stone moved.
“What caused the second stone to move?” he asked.
“The first.”
“And what happened first?”
“The first stone moved.”
“And what happened afterwards?”
“The second stone moved.”
The old man nodded.
“Good.”
The traveller frowned.
“You are making my point.”
“No. I am showing you the point.”
The old man placed the stones apart.
“Here is a cause.”
He pointed to the first stone.
“And here is an effect.”
He pointed to the second.
“And here is the relation between them.”
He moved the first stone again.
The second followed.
The traveller watched.
“A cause,” said the old man, “does not stand alone.”
The traveller looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“It is a cause of something.”
The old man pointed to the first stone.
“This is not simply a cause.”
He pointed to the second.
“It causes that.”
Then he pointed to the space between them.
“And the relation connects the two.”
The traveller began to understand.
A cause was not a magical substance called causation.
It was a role within a relation.
The old man continued.
“You came here looking for a cause of everything.”
“Yes.”
“But what would that mean?”
“The thing that caused everything.”
“What is its effect?”
“The universe.”
“And where is the relation between them?”
The traveller looked around the room.
He could see no space between the old man and the universe.
No path.
No process.
No sequence.
No relation.
The old man waited.
The traveller said:
“Perhaps the relation is outside the universe.”
“Outside?”
“Yes.”
“Where is outside?”
The traveller closed his eyes.
He remembered the Gate.
He remembered the House.
He remembered trying to find a place beyond space.
“Perhaps there is no outside.”
The old man smiled.
“Perhaps.”
“Then perhaps the cause exists beyond time.”
“Perhaps.”
“But then what does cause mean?”
The old man said nothing.
The traveller looked again at the stones.
He realised that every cause he had ever known belonged to a world.
A glass broke because it was dropped.
The wind moved the tree.
The fire spread because the flame caught the wood.
A builder made the house.
In every case there was something that caused and something caused.
There was a process connecting them.
There was a difference between what happened and what followed.
There was a world in which the relation could occur.
He turned to the old man.
“I think I have done it again.”
“What have you done?”
“I have taken something that works here and carried it beyond here.”
The old man nodded.
“You have enlarged the map.”
“Without knowing whether the country continues.”
“Exactly.”
The traveller sat down.
“But surely everything must have a cause.”
The old man looked at him carefully.
“Does the match need another match to cause causation?”
“No.”
“Does the fire need another fire to make causing possible?”
“No.”
“The cause explains the event.”
“Yes.”
“It does not necessarily explain the existence of the whole order in which causes and effects can be distinguished.”
The traveller looked thoughtful.
“So when I ask what caused this…”
“You are asking about an event.”
“And when I ask what caused everything…”
“You have changed the question.”
“How?”
“You have taken a relation within the world and asked it to explain the existence of the world in which that relation has meaning.”
The traveller looked at the two stones.
“Then perhaps the First Cause arrived too early.”
The old man laughed.
“That is a curious way to put it.”
“But it did.”
“How?”
“You placed it before the universe.”
“Yes.”
“And outside the universe.”
“Yes.”
“And made it produce the universe.”
“Yes.”
“And in doing so, I assumed before, outside, and producing.”
The old man nodded.
“All of which may belong to the very world you are trying to explain.”
The traveller stood.
“Then there may still be a First Cause.”
“Perhaps.”
“But we cannot simply infer it from the fact that things inside the universe have causes.”
“No.”
“Because local causation does not automatically become cosmic causation.”
The old man smiled.
“You have become cautious.”
“I have been visiting strange places.”
The old man opened the door.
Beyond it was the city.
The traveller looked back.
“One last question.”
The old man waited.
“If causation is a relation, what must already exist for a cause to be a cause?”
The old man pointed towards the city.
The traveller looked.
There were people building houses.
Children opening doors.
Trees bending in the wind.
A fire burning in a workshop.
Everywhere, things were affecting other things.
Everywhere, causes met effects.
Everywhere, relations were unfolding.
The traveller understood.
A cause did not simply need a cause.
It needed a world of distinguishable things, processes, and relations in which causation could take place.
The First Cause, if there was one, could not simply be assumed into existence by extending the word cause indefinitely backwards.
The traveller stepped outside.
The old man called after him.
“You came looking for the cause of the world.”
The traveller turned.
“What did I find?”
The old man smiled.
“That you should first ask what kind of world makes a cause possible.”
The traveller walked down the hill.
He no longer looked for the first link in the chain.
He had begun to wonder about the chain itself.
Not:
What caused everything?
But:
What kind of background must exist for a cause to be a cause?
And somewhere, far beyond the city, he sensed that another gate was waiting.
Not the gate of beginning.
Not the gate of nothing.
But a gate marked with a word he had not yet learned how to question.
POSSIBILITY.
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