The term “black sheep” refers to people who are not particularly respectful of established rules. I am not referring to irreverence for its own sake, but to the freedom to transgress when one senses that a rule no longer expresses—or never expressed—truth. This trait is essential for anyone who sets out to seek truth, whatever that truth may be.
I sometimes describe myself as a “double black sheep” because I move on two fronts of inquiry—the foundations of physics and inner research—adopting perspectives that often diverge from the prevailing approach. In my work in physics, I am a black sheep for two main reasons. First, my theoretical approach contains rather bold ideas about the nature of reality that are generally rejected by most colleagues. Somewhat nostalgically, they prefer to continue believing that all of physics can be “painted” onto a single, reassuring spacetime canvas.
Second, I grant no authority to the still-dominant metaphysical materialism that reduces all of reality to what can be measured with our three-dimensional instruments. From my point of view, ordinary matter is only one layer of a much broader, multi-material and multidimensional reality. This allows me to ask questions that are impossible for those who believe that existence is exhausted by the objects revealed by our measuring devices.
Let me recount a telling episode. Some years ago, I read an article in which two neuroscientists, by applying an electric current to the brain of an epileptic patient, were able to systematically induce out-of-body experiences (OBEs). The patient reported seeing her own body from above. Despite the repeatability of the phenomenon, the researchers did not test its objectivity. I wrote a letter to the journal suggesting that they test whether the patient could observe elements not visible from her physical position. The authors replied categorically that such a verification had never been considered, because they were already convinced that the experience was illusory.
This episode shows how, for some colleagues, it is impossible to ask meaningful questions due to their allegiance to metaphysical materialism. Ultimately, it is difficult to do good science if one starts from a bad philosophy.
The second black sheep in me mirrors the first and manifests itself in spiritual inquiry. As an expert in quantum mechanics, I am very critical of those who try to use this theory to support spiritual claims that, at least for now, have no scientific grounding (which does not mean they are false, of course).
One example: some time ago I was contacted by someone who had been invited to participate in a program on so-called “quantum miracles.” The journalist, rightly skeptical, had requested the presence of a competent physicist as a necessary counterpoint. Given my interest in inner research, I was asked to take part. I will not describe the person’s disappointment when I tried to explain that the “quantum physics” she was referring to had nothing to do with the quantum mechanics studied by physicists.
It should be said that since Fritjof Capra published The Tao of Physics, highlighting possible analogies between modern physics and Eastern spirituality, increasingly superficial texts have proliferated. These are written by self-styled scientific-spiritual gurus who manipulate physical and spiritual concepts to formulate implausible theories that are, unfortunately, far removed from any rigor.
A second example: years ago I read an article by some parapsychologists claiming that human mental attention could alter the interference pattern in the famous double-slit experiment. I wrote to the authors explaining that I was willing to consider the hypothesis of a psychokinetic effect, having personally experienced certain psi phenomena. However, I expressed strong doubts about their conclusion that the experiment confirmed the role of consciousness in the collapse of the quantum wave function.
As an expert in quantum physics, I know well what this theory states—and, above all, what it does not state. It is one thing to accept, in principle, the hypothesis of a subtle interaction between mind and matter; it is quite another to improperly invoke quantum theory to legitimize such a possibility.
Quantum mechanics does not require the involvement of human consciousness to explain the observational process. And even if one were to hypothesize that consciousness causes the collapse of the wave function, this would not suffice to justify the idea that the mind can modify the probabilities of observed outcomes. It is worth remembering that while quantum theory is indeterministic with respect to individual results, it is rigorously deterministic in predicting the probabilities associated with each outcome.
Within the research group I collaborate with, we propose a speculative interpretation of quantum physics known as the conceptuality interpretation. According to this view, quantum phenomena are cognitive in nature—but not in an anthropomorphic sense. An electron, for example, would exist mostly in an “abstract” state, only potentially present in space, and only when it is “captured” by an experimental apparatus (not by the observer’s consciousness) would a well-defined position be generated. This process of actualizing potential properties can be compared to a cognitive act, in which an abstract concept suddenly becomes concrete—much like when, in answering a question, we select one response among many possible ones.
In the conceptuality interpretation, measuring instruments act as genuine cognitive entities, sensitive to the meaning conveyed by the measured quantum entity. In other words, there is no confusion among the different cognitive “layers” of a universe that would ultimately be pancognitivist: a universe in which everything participates in cognition, and in which human cognition represents only a very recent episode, manifested at a highly specific organizational level.
In conclusion, I am inconvenient for traditional physicists because I push beyond their reassuring mono-materialist convictions, and I am equally inconvenient for many spiritual researchers because I challenge numerous attempts to validate spiritual visions through an incorrect understanding of modern physics.
Being a double black sheep is not always comfortable, but it is inevitable for anyone who wishes to explore freely, with honesty and rigor, the complex reality that surrounds us. I hope this testimony encourages others not to worry too much about the direction taken by the flock, large or small as it may be. Given the times we are living in, this is more important than ever.
Originally published in Italian in issue 20 of Emozioni (2025), a quarterly journal of humanism, emotional intelligence, and enterprise.