“Time is the simplest thing”—that is what the “Pinkness” alien declared in Clifford D. Simak’s Hugo‑award‑nominated science fiction novel by the same name. In a time long, long ago, that book was the first “adult” science fiction I ever read. At that time, juveniles (of which I was one) were not supposed to read books from the adult shelves of our local library. Well, I had read all the science fiction in the Juvenile Section, and they really should not have connected the Adult Sci‑Fi Section to the Juvenile Section by a set of unguarded stairs…!

So, is time the simplest thing? Or even simple at all?

Quantum Weirdness

Modern physics complicates our intuitive sense of time in several ways.

Science says it exists not as the flow we imagine, but in “slices.” Each moment is separate and particular. Wrap your head around that!

Another twist: some physicists argue that time, as we know it, doesn’t exist outside our universe. Well, first of all, how can there be an “outside” to the universe? But after that conundrum, what would it be like to be in a “place” without time?

Then we encounter the phenomenon of “entanglement,” where two particles are connected in such a way that an action on one instantaneously (with zero time passing) causes a similar action on the other, even if the other particle is a vast distance away.

And don’t forget “superposition,” where all possibilities exist at once, allowing “A” to happen both before “B” and after it simultaneously.

Maybe the quantum level of reality exists outside our universe—or in a “place” almost outside of it.

Maybe that is what Pinkness understood.

The Human Version of Time

Whatever time is at the quantum level—or whatever understanding aliens might have of it—we humans experience something far simpler, or perhaps far stranger.

We have created a dynamic representation of reality where time is composed of Past, Future, and Now.

Of those options, only Now really exists.

If I could put time in a bottle… Ah, but we can’t. Not yet, anyway. Only Now exists. The Past and the Future are constructs we devise—the Past by assembling pieces of memories jumbled together with logical—and sometimes not-so-logical—glue, the Future by means of imagination and more glue.

That means that all your angst about the Past is a waste, and all your angst about the Future is meaningless. Well, almost.

We “remember” past events because—from an evolutionary standpoint—that helped us survive. (When I went down that path, I walked into a lion’s den.) We imagine a future for the same reason. (If I go down that path again, I will likely find the same lion’s den, and this time they might be hungry.)

But beyond helping us make better choices, angst and worry about the past or imagined future is a waste of time.

That stupid, embarrassing thing I did years ago that keeps playing on a memory-repeat track only exists as a construct. It is literally gone. Nada. Nothing.

The cancer test that might come back positive? Scary, yes—but not real. I can do everything I can to be healthy—eat right, exercise, get enough sleep—but the worry itself is just an emotional reaction to something that does not exist. Why would I focus on something that is a mental mist, totally my imagination?

Wow. What if we could actually live with that understanding?

There is only now. This is it.

Maybe Pinkness was right, and time is the simplest thing after all—once we stop trying to live anywhere but now.

T.K. Thorne is a retired police captain, former director of City Action Partnership, and an award‑winning author of fiction and non‑fiction.

I write about whatever sparks my curiosity — the things that make me pause, wonder, or mutter “well, that’s interesting…”.

While you’re here, feel free to look around my website and my books (I write across genres, so there’s likely something you didn’t expect).

If you arrived by way of my blog on Substack, here’s your breadcrumb trail home.

If you slipped in through The Stiletto Gang, here’s the door you came through.

T.K. Thorne is a retired police captain (Birmingham, Alabama), former director of City Action Partnership, and an award-winning author of fiction and non-fiction.