What If Gravity Isn’t Entropy Rising, But the Universe Remembering?

A reflection on gravity, coherence, and the possibility that the universe is not falling apart but falling back into place.

Introduction

A few months ago, a colleague shared with me a Quanta Magazine article titled “Is Gravity Just Entropy Rising?” by George Musser. The piece revisits a long-standing and provocative idea: that gravity might not be a fundamental force at all, but instead something that emerges from entropy and thermodynamics.

The article traces how this idea has evolved. It points back to Ted Jacobson’s 1995 insight, where Einstein’s equations could be derived not from geometry, but from the laws of thermodynamics. It highlights the persistent parallels between gravity and heat: irreversibility, entropy increase, the growth of black holes, and the thermal radiation they emit. And it introduces more recent work led by Daniel Carney and his colleagues at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, who propose that gravity may arise from hidden microscopic thermal systems that interact with matter in ways that mimic normal gravity. This newer formulation even has the rare quality of being testable, unlike many of the more speculative models of quantum gravity.

It is a compelling framing. Gravity as the byproduct of systems drifting toward disorder. A force not intrinsic, but emergent, born of entropy’s rise. There is an elegance to this perspective, and it continues to hold a place in the imagination of physicists precisely because it resonates with deep links between thermodynamics, information, and the quantum fabric of spacetime.

And yet, as I read the article, I felt something stir in me. Not a contradiction of the science, but a sense that something important was missing. Not in the equations, but in the intuition. Because for me, gravity has long felt less like the universe unraveling, and more like the universe remembering.

Core Reframe

The standard narrative of entropic gravity imagines a universe steadily running down. Entropy increases. Systems collapse into disorder. Gravity is then cast as a byproduct of this unraveling.

But for me, that picture has never quite resonated.

When I sense into what gravity is, it does not feel like the signature of systems losing themselves. It feels like the opposite. It feels like the presence of something seeking to remember. Something in the fabric of reality that moves not toward chaos, but toward coherence.

What if gravity is not the collapse into disorder, but the quiet pull of systems re-aligning with themselves? What if gravity is the universe curving back toward meaning?

In this view, entropy is not random noise. It is the measure of misalignment. It is the gap between what a system is and what it longs to become. And gravity is the invisible gesture that closes that gap. The harmonizing pull beneath the tension. The memory that refuses to be lost.

I sometimes imagine the origin of the universe not as an explosion, but as a state of undifferentiated potential. Neither nothing nor something. Just possibility. I call it, playfully but seriously, zero over zero. A symbolic way of naming a condition where all symmetry is still whole, and no form yet exists.

From this potential, space and time did not pre-exist as containers. They emerged. Space emerged from relationship. Time emerged from transformation. Information arose as symmetry broke. And gravity emerged as the rebalancing force. The tendency of things to curve back into alignment.

Seen this way, gravity is not external. It is not imposed from above. It arises within systems as they seek coherence. It is the universe remembering itself.

Philosophical Expansion

The more I have worked with systems of all kinds — technological, ecological, organizational, even personal — the more clearly I have noticed the same rhythm. Misalignment creates friction. Friction creates breakdown. And yet, what looks like breakdown is often the prelude to renewal.

Realignment does not come from imposing control from outside. It comes from within. It comes from something in the system remembering what it is.

In this sense, gravity becomes more than a physical principle. It becomes a metaphor for coherence. For identity. For the process by which systems rediscover their center.

We live in a time when many people feel the world is unraveling. Institutions falter. Technologies outpace our ability to integrate them. Social fabric strains. Even internally, many of us feel pulled apart by competing pressures, fragmented identities, and the noise of a culture in flux.

It is easy to see this as collapse. Easy to believe that entropy has the final word.

But what if that is only one lens? What if the apparent unraveling is actually a deeper reorganization? What if what we call gravity is not collapse at all, but the universe’s insistence that coherence returns?

In this view, gravity is not just what pulls planets together. It is what pulls a life back into integrity. It is what pulls communities back toward wholeness. It is what reminds us, even in the midst of disorder, of who we are.

Maybe gravity is not about falling down. Maybe it is about falling back into place.

Closing Synthesis and Invitation

In this piece, I am not claiming to rewrite physics. I am not presenting new field equations or insisting that entropy-based models are wrong. What I am doing is listening differently. Listening beneath the frameworks.

Because when I listen, what I hear is not collapse, but coherence. Not unraveling, but remembering.

Maybe gravity is not entropy rising, but integrity restoring. Maybe it is not the universe losing meaning, but the universe reclaiming it. Maybe it is not the pull of things falling down, but the gentle curve of things falling back into place.

And maybe this is not only true at the cosmic scale. Maybe the same force is alive in us.

The pull we feel toward truth. The ache for alignment when we drift. The longing to return to what feels whole and true. Perhaps that too is a kind of gravity. Not something separate from physics, but an echo of the same pattern.

We live in a moment when much of the world feels like it is unraveling. Social systems, organizations, even our sense of self can feel fractured. But what if this unraveling is not the end? What if it is simply the prelude to a deeper reorganization? What if, beneath the apparent disorder, something is remembering?

This is what continues to stir in me. That gravity is not only the curve of spacetime. It is the curve of memory. The invitation to coherence. The movement of the self, and the system, coming home.

I do not offer this as a conclusion. Only as a possibility. A quiet reminder that maybe the universe does not need to be solved. Maybe it only longs to be remembered. And perhaps the same is true for us.