Is Something Better Than Nothing?

A Pint-Sized Philosopher Wrestles with The Big Question

Why does anything exist at all? Does everybody think like this, or is it just me? When I was in grade school, maybe even before that, I wondered if everything around me---the whole world---was just figments of my imagination. Not like Rene Descartes, “I think, therefore I am.” For me, it was more like, “What I think (dream, imagine) is all there is.” Mom and Dad, the black and white TV, the kids in the neighborhood, I’m just making them up. Little did I realize at the time that I was grazing the edge of a word I just recently discovered---solipsism. It’s a philosophical idea that only one’s mind is certain to exist. There was one problem with this idea though: pain. Pain was not something I dreamed up. Pain was something that hit me just like that brick I dropped on my bare, big toe in the basement as a kid. So now I know there are at least two things: me and pain. But why not nothing at all?

The Mechanics of Nothing

It turns out that “Nothing” is something else, depending on who you listen to. For the scientist, nothing is a quantum foam humming with restless tension. A field with quantum fluctuations that pop in and out of existence. Those scientists think that one of these fluctuations triggered the Big Bang and consequently caused our entire universe to spring into existence.

For the philosopher, “Nothing” isn’t something else. It’s nothing else. As in, no quantum foam, no laws of physics, no fluctuations, and no bangs, big or otherwise. 

I can’t speak for you, but to me, it would seem like the philosopher’s notion of “Nothing” makes a lot more sense. If “nothing” is something that fluctuates universes into existence, how did it get there and why? If nothing is there, well, we wouldn’t be here to discuss it. So, here I am. Thinking. (I think, therefore I am.) And what I’m thinking is that the nothing that isn’t something should be the default position. Trouble is, I know I’m real and so was my sore toe!

The Code of Reality: Mario's Framework

 Since we’re obviously here, the philosopher’s nothing isn’t real. So, let’s take a closer look at that quantum foam. What if it’s more than just physics?  What if God is the ultimate solipsist, dreaming existence into being and the quantum foam is a canvas for something greater—God’s imagination, brimming with boundless potential. 

Do you remember Super Mario 64? Now that was a game! Completing levels, collecting stars, defeating Bowser thrice, rescuing Princess Peach and eating cake. That’s what the game was all about. But Super Mario 64 is not just a game, it’s also a computer program. It’s computer code loaded onto a hardware platform. Reality might work the same way. Quantum foam—or string theory, or whatever science uncovers—might be the mechanics. It’s the framework. But frameworks aren’t the story.

If God is the ultimate creator, then the foam could be His imagination’s playground—the hardware that makes existence possible. Yet what really matters is the story, the purpose, the dream behind it all. Whether there’s quantum foam or not, it could be that what God dreams is the true fundamental—the reason there’s something rather than nothing.

Pain and the Challenge to Purpose

If God is the ultimate solipsist, He’s got the same problem I had with that brick in the basement. Pain makes perfect sense in a random universe. If reality is governed by chance—by indifferent quantum chaos—then pain is just one more byproduct of randomness, neither surprising nor meaningful. But if God dreams the world into existence, how does He reconcile pain with His dream? So, what is it, meaningless chaos or something more purposeful?

 Let’s look to a philosopher and a saint with very different views to help us frame this thought: Friedrich Nietzsche and Padre Pio.

For Nietzsche, a nineteenth century philosopher, the universe is purposeless.  To him, pain was part of life’s chaotic nature. Sure, he acknowledged that it could make us stronger—his famous line, “That which does not kill us makes us stronger,” speaks to this. But he ultimately believed existence just wasn’t worth the cost. No inherent meaning in the universe, and suffering becomes just another hurdle that must be overcome. It certainly was not something that justified the act of living. Pain was simply a burden, a feature in a meaningless existence.

On the other hand, Padre Pio, a nineteenth and twentieth century Catholic saint saw pain not as random chaos but as something sacred. He believed existence was worth every ounce of suffering. To him, suffering was a way to share in Christ’s own sacrifice, to participate in a divine story filled with love, redemption, and meaning. Pain, just something to endure? No, to him it was a thread woven into the tapestry of God’s plan. It was a way to connect to something eternal and purposeful.

And that’s the crux: Nietzsche rejected existence as ultimately not worth it—pain was too high a price for a purposeless reality. Padre Pio embraced existence as absolutely worth it—pain carried sacred meaning as part of a purposeful reality. And here’s the paradox: In a meaningless existence, pain makes sense, but it can make life not worth living. In a purposeful existence, pain doesn’t make sense, but meaning makes it worth living. At least that’s how I see it. What about you? 

The Cross of Christ and the Reckoning of Pain

 For me, the Cross becomes the pivotal moment in this narrative. Pain remains a mystery—I don’t understand why it exists, much less why it must hurt so much. Senseless pain especially defies explanation. But the Cross shows me that God didn’t remain distant from pain; He stepped into it, taking full responsibility for it. Through Jesus Christ’s crucifixion, God bore the weight of suffering, entering the depths of human pain and experiencing its full reality. On the Cross, God took pain into Himself—not as an observer, but as a participant. Here’s the paradoxical "joke" at the heart of this: any God who allows this much pain and suffering should be crucified. And thank God, He was. His resurrection transforms pain from a mystery into a possibility of redemption, even if its full purpose remains hidden. With His resurrection, He offered the ultimate hope. So, pain may remain a mystery, but can it also be redeemed?

For some, it’s hard not to wonder if nothing is better than something. Nietzsche might agree. But I don’t. I believe in something because I believe someone meant it to be. Maybe God has been dreaming. Maybe He’s been dreaming of you and me.

 The Bigger Picture

There are three voices in this discourse: The scientist, the philosopher and the theologian. The first tries to explain how the universe works, the second asks us to define its meaning, while the last wants to discover its purpose. Each speaks with his own voice, and occasionally, they manage to harmonize. But no matter how you envision existence, as a cosmic accident or a divine invention, the questions can be as difficult as the answers. Do we live in a cul-de-sac in the chaos, or a kink in the creation? It’s obvious where I stand, but I’d love to hear from you.