This series of posts reflects my observations that suggest we are living inside a computer simulation. I'll continue adding to it as I come across new signs that further reinforce this idea.
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Complex Skills
This idea may sound amusing, and it’s certainly not a scientific theory, but if you believe we might be living in a computer simulation, then it could start to resonate with you.
Consider any complex skill, such as the ability to learn multiple languages or master a musical instrument. Imagine someone playing a complicated piece on the guitar. It’s natural to marvel at how the human mind can learn something so intricate. You might even think, "How can someone possibly do that?" Or take a person who speaks a hundred languages—how is it conceivable that someone can absorb so many different languages?
Think of a language like Chinese or Japanese, and just look at the characters. They seem so foreign and incomprehensible, almost impossible to interpret as a meaningful system of communication.
As an Indian, when I look at South Indian scripts, all I see is squiggles. Or take Urdu, for example—it’s just a series of random lines on paper. How can that possibly convey meaning? It's difficult to wrap your head around unless you understand the language.
But here’s where the simulation theory comes in. It’s humorous, but if we do live in a computer simulation, then those languages don’t necessarily need to exist—at least, not in the way we think they do.
In this scenario, if we are the protagonists of our own personal simulation, then only the languages we speak and understand need to be fully rendered. The simulation doesn’t have to create or sustain thousands of languages for the sake of the protagonist’s environment if they won’t be used by anyone relevant.
Therefore, languages like Chinese or Japanese don't need to make sense to you unless you start interacting with them.
When I see Chinese characters, I often wonder how those symbols could possibly form a language. But in the simulation theory, they don't have to make sense because, for me, that language doesn’t "exist."
However, if I decided to start learning Chinese, the simulation would need to render that language in a way that made sense to me. Suddenly, the “gibberish” would transform into a meaningful system, the symbols would represent words, and the language would become real within my experience.
A personal example of this happened when I started learning Spanish. Before I could understand it, Spanish sounded like a string of meaningless sounds. It wasn’t just that I didn’t know the words—I couldn’t even identify where one word ended and another began. To my ears, it was complete gibberish. But as I started learning Spanish, something interesting happened.
The simulation, so to speak, had to “render” the language for me. What once sounded like noise gradually began to make sense, as individual words and phrases emerged from the confusion. Now, when I listen to Spanish, I hear distinct words and sentences instead of just sounds.
The same applies to mastering any complex skill, whether it’s playing the guitar or learning a new language.
You may look at someone’s abilities and wonder how it’s possible to play such an intricate piece on a musical instrument, but according to the simulation theory, it doesn’t have to be. Not until you decide to pursue that skill yourself.
When you do pursue that skill, the simulation will render the necessary elements, and that skill will start making sense within your reality.