The Onion of Possibility
The many worlds theory imagines every choice splitting reality into endless timelines. Scientists have debated it for decades. Some companies even build their technologies on top of it, assuming that every decision launches a new, parallel version of our lives. But human life does not branch like a clean physics diagram. And the more I think about it, the less it looks like a narrowing cone. A better metaphor might be an onion.
In the very beginning, when we are babies, our decisions barely shape the world. We have little influence, little intention, almost no personal authorship. Our possible timelines are small. Not because we lack potential, but because we lack agency.
As we grow, we gain intelligence, memory, choice. The onion widens. Childhood, adolescence, early adulthood all add thiner rings. During this period, our lives branch more than ever. New friendships, new beliefs, new mistakes, new ideas. The pool of parallel possibilities reaches its widest point.
But something shifts later.
Life starts to structure us. Patterns solidify. Values stabilize. Careers narrow our direction. Relationships anchor our identity. Experience begins to guide our decisions more than imagination does. And slowly, the onion begins to contract again. The layers pull closer. The number of radically different versions of ourselves becomes smaller.
So instead of a universe splitting endlessly, I imagine an onion that grows outward as we gain freedom, then slowly curves inward as our life shapes us in return.
Maybe many worlds exist. But not as infinite branches. More like layered possibilities that expand when we gain agency and tighten when life defines our path.
In the end, we do not drift into countless parallel selves. We grow outward, then inward. Layer by layer.