Prologue: The Absurdity of Existence and the Destiny of Naming

In this world full of absurdity, we daily push the boulder of naming. Why is heaven called heaven? Why is earth called earth? Why is a sheep called a sheep? These seemingly simple questions point to the deepest secrets of existence.

When we gaze at the sky, that boundless azure seems to be telling something—perhaps a truth beyond language, an essence that exists prior to words. Yet we can only imprison it with the syllable “heaven,” as futile and necessary as catching wind with a net. Our world is defined by our naming, and our naming is driven by some more mysterious force.

Laozi said:

“The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao; the name that can be named is not the eternal name.”

Some would say that the Chinese character for sheep is merely the evolution of pictographic writing, originally just strokes drawn by ancient people looking at real sheep. But such explanations merely push the question back one step—where did that first sheep come from? This inquiry is like a bottomless abyss, staring at everyone who tries to find answers.

The Tragedy of Life and the Destiny of Evolution

In “On the Origin of Species,” Darwin showed us a magnificent yet cruel picture: evolution is not progress, but a tragic persistence. Every species, under the dual torment of genetic mutation and natural selection, continuously repeats the effort of survival. Mendel’s genetics tells us that this tragedy follows patterns—our destiny is encoded in those tiny genetic codes, like irreversible oracles in Greek mythology.

That sheep carries the weight of hundreds of millions of years. From survivors of the dinosaur age, to the first fish that learned to breathe in ancient oceans, to even more ancient single-celled life—every evolution is a rebellion against nothingness, every adaptation is a compromise with absurdity.

In this long evolutionary chain, we see countless “affirmations,” but these affirmations themselves are manifestations of absurdity. We affirm that sheep come from genetic variation, affirm that life originates from accidental aggregation of inorganic matter, affirm that the first life form was born from some “fortuitous coincidence.” However, when we trace back to that initial moment—the leap from inorganic to organic life—we find ourselves facing an ultimate absurdity: how did the first life form actually emerge?

Even theories about meteorites from outside the solar system merely push the absurdity to deeper cosmic spaces. The problem of life’s origin is like an eternally rolling boulder—whenever we think we’re approaching an answer, it rolls back to the starting point, leaving us in eternal confusion.

The Absurdity of Coincidence and the Despair of Providence

In the absurd theater of existence, we must face a cruel question: are those life-birth processes called “fortuitous coincidences” truly coincidental, or some deeper necessity?

Borges once imagined an infinite monkey typing on a keyboard for infinite time, eventually able to write “Dream of the Red Chamber.” This beautiful paradox tells us that given enough time, all impossibilities become possible. The universe, with its patience of 14 billion years, composed this miracle of life for us—those that survived we call life forms, evolved into what we are now; those that didn’t survive were forgotten in the abyss of time, as if they never existed.

However, what is “coincidence”? This word itself is full of metaphysical confusion. We say coincidence is a “clever correspondence,” the key being that “clever” character—it requires events to be both reasonable and unexpected, to “correspond” in novel and distinctive ways to be considered “clever.” But this definition itself is absurd because it presupposes an observer, a subject capable of judging what is “unexpected.”

“Chukezipai Jingqi” states:

“It can be seen that providence is determined, such coincidence.”

This sentence reveals a deeper absurdity: the ancients attributed coincidence to providence, while moderns explain providence as coincidence. However, whether providence or coincidence, they are merely conceptual cages we construct to resist nothingness.

What’s even more puzzling is that in that ancient world, when all humans were still in ignorance, when the whole world couldn’t communicate, why did various civilizations unanimously develop concepts of “providence” and “mandate of heaven”? Is this synchronicity itself also a coincidence? Or is it that when humans face the absurdity of existence, they always choose the same escape methods?

Factors: Hidden Laws of Existence

Perhaps we need a more radical hypothesis. Maybe those seemingly coincidental synchronicities, those similarities that transcend time and space, all stem from some more fundamental law of existence—what I call “factors.”

These factors, like Heidegger’s “Being,” are both hidden and omnipresent. They are certain archetypes beyond time and space, lurking in the depths of the earth, floating among air molecules, dissolved in every drop of water. When humans face similar existential dilemmas, the same factors awaken, like ancient memories being reawakened.

Imagine when the first humans needed to name quantities, a certain “number factor” began to work. It catalyzed different expressions in different civilizations:

  • Chinese “一” (one)
  • English “one”
  • The most primitive single mark
  • The first knot on a rope

These expressions seem vastly different but all point to the same essence. The sky being named as heaven, sky, Ciel, Небо is not the result of cultural transmission, but the manifestation of the “sky factor” in different civilizations. Like Plato’s ideas, it is an archetype beyond specific languages.

This factor is like a metaphysical inspiration that might manifest as a gust of wind, a shower of rain, or the apple that led Newton to discover universal gravitation. In that instant, some hidden law of the universe opened itself to human consciousness through material phenomena.

Symphony of Existence: Cosmic Resonance of Factors

From this perspective, the birth of life is no longer a simple chemical reaction, but a cosmic-scale symphony. Oxygen factors in the air, carbon factors in the earth, hydrogen factors in the ocean, sulfur factors in volcanoes—factors of all things slowly accumulated over hundreds of millions of years, as if waiting for some destined moment to arrive.

When these factors finally converge like seven stars in alignment at a specific space-time coordinate, the miracle of life is born. This is not accident, but necessary accident, absurd necessity. Like Sisyphus in Camus’s work, the universe creates meaning in meaninglessness, nurtures life in absurdity.

Genetic mutations in the evolutionary process are merely the continued action of these factors. The mutual contest between environmental factors and genetic factors gives birth to genotypes more adapted to current environments. Every mutation is a recombination of factors, every adaptation is a rebalancing of factors. Life, in this eternal factor game, is both player and chess piece.

Ancient Wisdom: Eastern Echoes of Factors

Remarkably, ancient sages seemed to have already glimpsed the secrets of factors. Dong Zhongshu wrote in “Luxuriant Dew of the Spring and Autumn Annals”:

“Same qi converges, similar sounds respond… beautiful events summon beautiful kinds, evil events summon evil kinds.”

This “qi” here, isn’t it the ancient expression of what we call factors? The “I Ching” also has similar insights:

“Same sounds respond to each other, same qi seeks each other.”

Dong Zhongshu keenly observed that human actions leave certain imprints in the environment, and these imprints influence the actions and encounters of those who come later. Good deeds attract auspiciousness, evil deeds invite disaster—this ancient concept gains new interpretation within the framework of factor theory.

Humans, these beings who pride themselves on having consciousness, are actually just nodes in nature’s factor network. Our thinking, feeling, and decision-making are all deeply marked by factors. We think we are thinking, but actually factors might be thinking through us; we think we are feeling, but actually factors might be feeling through us.

Compared to the original origin of life, we are merely more complex organisms, but complexity doesn’t mean freedom. We are still participants in the factor game, only the rules have become more sophisticated, the chess game more complex.

Revelation of Factors in Daily Life

Beneath the surface of daily life, factor activity never stops. Those intuitions we call “sixth sense” might be our sensitive perception of changes in environmental factor concentrations. Just as animals can sense earthquakes, humans also retain some primitive factor-sensing ability.

Consider this scenario: a man is having an affair at home while his wife is at work. On the surface, the wife has no direct evidence, but as time passes, she begins to suspect her husband. Using factor theory to explain, the man’s betrayal actions leave traces of “betrayal factors” at home, and these factors gradually accumulate in the environment, changing the home space’s factor structure.

When the wife returns home, her subconscious sensitively captures this change. She can’t articulate specific reasons, but she feels something wrong—this is the manifestation of betrayal factors. As time passes, these factors become increasingly dense until they exceed the wife’s perception threshold, and suspicion sprouts in her heart.

Mystical Decoding of Factors

In traditional culture’s mystical practices, we might find ancient echoes of factor theory. Ancient Chinese Zhuyou technique relies not on medicine but can cure diseases through words alone. Modern medicine explains this as psychological suggestion or placebo effect, but within the factor theory framework, we can propose a more radical explanation: specific words carry specific factor energy.

When a Zhuyou master recites healing incantations, he is actually activating and guiding “healing factors.” These factors are concentrated and transmitted through sound vibrations, focused intention, and the sacred atmosphere of ritual. Under the influence of this factor field, the patient’s self-healing mechanism is activated, and illness is alleviated.

Buddhism states: “When chanting Buddha, becoming Buddha.” This word “Buddha” itself might be a highly concentrated factor symbol. When the ancients created this character, they might have been under the influence of some “enlightenment factor,” finding perfect expression for this transcendent experience. Every recitation of “Buddha” is a summoning and activation of factors.

Rural shamans’ talisman treatments follow similar logic. Those papers inscribed with “health” and “disaster relief” are actually material carriers of “health factors” and “peace factors.” Through the ritualized medium of talisman water, factors are transmitted to those needing treatment. This practice seems superstitious but contains certain deep wisdom—humans intuitively recognize that some transferable and usable energy exists between all things.

Factor Changes in the Technological Age

In this digital age, factor theory perhaps finds new expressions. When we stare at flickering code on screens, do those seemingly cold 0s and 1s also carry certain “technological factors”? Every click, every swipe, every search leaves factor traces in digital space.

The working principle of algorithmic recommendation systems is essentially identifying and matching similar factor patterns, isn’t it? When you click on a sad song late at night, the system can sense the “melancholy factor” in your emotional state, then push more content that can resonate with this factor. This isn’t simple data analysis, but precise identification and transmission of factors in the digital world.

The learning process of artificial intelligence can also be understood as extraction, organization, and recombination of massive factors. When ChatGPT answers our questions, it’s actually invoking “knowledge factors” accumulated from millions of texts, and according to “demand factors” contained in our questions, recombining the most appropriate responses.

More interestingly, viral spread phenomena on social media platforms. Why can a piece of information sweep the globe in a short time? Traditional explanations are content attractiveness and channel convenience, but from the factor theory perspective, we might say: this information carries strong “transmission factors” that can activate certain resonance factors deep in people’s hearts, driving them to share involuntarily.

Collective Unconscious and Factor Resonance

Jung’s concept of collective unconscious gains new interpretation within the factor theory framework. Those archetypal images that transcend culture and time—hero, mother, sage, shadow—might be manifestations of common “archetypal factors” carried by humanity.

When we discover similar story structures in different mythological systems, this is not merely the result of cultural transmission, but more likely the spontaneous emergence of the same “narrative factors” in different civilizations. Sun Wukong in “Journey to the West” and Odysseus in “The Odyssey,” the revenge prince in “Hamlet” and Zhao Wu in “The Orphan of Zhao”—their similarities stem from common “hero factors” in humanity’s collective unconscious.

In modern psychotherapy, when therapists establish connections with patients through empathy, what actually happens is resonance between the therapist’s “healing factors” and the patient’s “recovery factors.” This resonance needs no words, not even rational analysis—it’s a deeper level of factor communication.

Epilogue: Dance of Absurdity and Rationality

At this moment, as I write these final paragraphs, I can’t help but ask: are these words themselves the result of some factor action? From the first book read in childhood, to every lecture heard in university classrooms, from music flowing in deep nights, to countless moments of contemplation—all these experiences have left factor imprints in my consciousness, layered like fossils in geological strata.

I think I am thinking, but perhaps factors are thinking through me; I think I am writing, but perhaps factors are writing through me. This recognition brings not despair, but a peculiar liberation. When we realize we might just be chess pieces in the factor game, we paradoxically gain a certain freedom—no longer anxious about self-limitations, no longer pained by uncontrollable destiny.

Philosophical Significance of Factor Theory

The proposal of factor theory might provide a new perspective for understanding the world. It is neither pure materialism nor simple idealism, but attempts to find a new balance between matter and spirit, necessity and chance, individual and whole.

Within this theoretical framework, scientific discoveries are no longer pure victories of human rationality, but deep dialogues between human consciousness and cosmic factors. Artistic creation is no longer independent displays of individual talent, but common dance between artists and aesthetic factors. The emergence of love is no longer accidental encounters between two individuals, but inevitable attraction between compatible factors in two people.

This understanding allows us to maintain awe for the world while not losing courage to explore. Because even if we are carriers of factors, we are still conscious carriers; even if our choices are influenced by factors, we can still choose how to respond to this influence.

Eternal Questioning

Ultimately, factor theory might not be able to answer all questions, just as any theory cannot exhaust the complexity of reality. But its value lies not in providing standard answers, but in inspiring us to examine this world with new eyes.

When we next see brilliant stars in the night sky, we might wonder: does this light carry factors from distant time and space? When we next pass by strangers, we might wonder: is there some invisible factor connection between us? When we next face major life choices, we might wonder: which factors are influencing my decision?

This thinking itself is humanity’s relentless exploration of existence’s mysteries. Whether factor theory is ultimately proven, modified, or overturned, this spirit of exploration will continue. Because as that ancient maxim says: “I think therefore I am.” And from the factor theory perspective, we might add: “We think about factors, therefore factors exist through us.”

In this universe full of infinite possibilities, every question might be a door to truth, every contemplation might be a deep dialogue with the essence of the universe. Let us maintain this curiosity and reverence, continuing to explore forward in existence’s labyrinth.