Илья Марголин – The First Quarter Of My Century (страница 4)

Can the existence of parallel universes be admitted? Theoretical physics does not rule out such a possibility. The multiverse hypothesis – derived from interpretations of quantum mechanics (in particular, the so-called many-worlds interpretation proposed by Everett) – suggests that every quantum choice may give rise to a new reality. In one, you turn your head to the right; in another, to the left. In a third, you do not wake up at all. But if this assumption is taken seriously, a question arises: does a bridge exist between these realities, and can it be constructed through effort?

I often reflect on what happens in other branches of reality when I make a choice in this one. If I wake up at six in the morning and write, read, move my project forward, what happens in the parallel versions of myself? Perhaps one of them does the same, but a bit faster. Another moves more slowly, but with an unexpected idea. A third takes a risk that I avoid here. The totality of these variants forms a kind of probability wave within which my own trajectory takes shape.

There exists the concept of quantum superposition: prior to measurement, a particle can exist in multiple states simultaneously. Our choice as observers «collapses» the superposition into a single reality. If this idea is extended to the human level, it follows that each of our actions is an act of choice that collapses the world. Action, therefore, is not merely behavior, but an intervention in the fabric of probabilities.

When we remain inactive – lying down, procrastinating, refusing to move – we allow reality to collapse into its least productive branch. In one parallel version, we simply lie on the other side. In another, we pick up a phone. The multiplicity of such realities creates a quasi-stable zone in which nothing significant occurs. But if, in the base universe, I begin to act – systematically, rhythmically, deliberately – I activate branches with a wide range of outcomes: successful and unexpected, radical and quiet, yet meaningful. This is not metaphysics; it is probabilistic mechanics.

I assume that action generates a chain of alternatives in which each choice resonates with other versions of myself. The more I do, the more parallel versions of myself I activate. And if some form of informational interaction between realities exists – for example, through unconscious patterns, intuition, or synchronicity (as cautiously suggested, for instance, by David Bohm in his idea of the implicate order) – then I may be able to «sense» the influence of another self. The one who decided. The one who succeeded.

This is, of course, a hypothesis. But within contemporary scientific thinking, it is permissible to construct models that do not claim absolute verification if they are heuristically productive. And this model is as follows: the more active you are in this reality, the more probabilities are activated in others. You become a network of versions of yourself. And this network is not merely a background, but a structure of support. It returns energy to you in the form of coincidences, intuitive decisions, small «lucky accidents» which, in fact, are probabilistic responses to your own efforts in other versions.

Thus, belief emerges. Not as an irrational attitude, but as a logical consequence of action. I act – and therefore I believe. I move – and therefore I sense that others are moving as well. And if this is the nature of the universe, then the only way to «establish contact» with all versions of oneself is to act. Inaction is self-isolation within a closed cell. Effort is an act of expansion across time and space.

And so I continue. I write, think, work. Not because I know it will succeed. But because I know that if I do not do it, no one else will – neither here, nor in another universe.

A Soft Form of Decay

I wrote this essay as a personal attempt to capture how the betting industry – formally restricted yet effectively ubiquitous – has become part of the cultural norm. This is not a text about morality, but a reflection on how destructive phenomena enter society not through scandal, but through rhythm and repetition. Betting no longer looks dangerous – and that is precisely where its danger lies. I draw parallels with historical examples in which the normalization of harm began with the phrase «there’s nothing wrong with it.» I conclude with a sense of unease: if we do not see how it works, it means it is already working.

Sometimes culture decays not to the sound of gunfire, but to a jingle: «claim your free bet.» This is not an exaggeration. I increasingly notice that betting advertisements no longer provoke even irritation. They are embedded – in games, in sports, in media, in language, in visual design. They do not break resistance; they bypass it. They penetrate softly, delicately, daily. Betting has become the visual and linguistic background of everyday life. We fail to notice the moment when it stops being something separate and becomes part of the norm.

I grew up in a country where casinos were associated with something marginal: semi-darkness, crime, foreignness, suspicious money. There were laws, there was a moral consensus – and, ultimately, there was aversion. A decade passes, and the same industry returns, but now through a mobile application, in polished packaging, with the faces of popular bloggers and the typography of major sports leagues. Betting is now «part of the show,» «gaming,» a «segment of the entertainment economy.» It is everywhere. And formally – outside the law. But in essence – already within the law of habit.

This creates a strange duality. On the one hand: fine print, age limits, «play responsibly,» «we oppose addiction.» On the other: YouTube integrations, sponsor logos on players’ jerseys, branded caps awarded to the man of the match. Even in spaces associated with school age, I hear: «I wouldn’t bet on that.» This is no longer an exception – it is the language of the environment. And language, as we know, shapes thinking.

Of course, someone will say: «No one is forcing anyone.» Formally – yes. But reality does not operate through commands; it operates through conventions. If from the age of fourteen you live in a media environment where betting exists somewhere between excitement, sport, and a financial instrument, you grow up with the sense that it is permissible. Normal. Acceptable. Then a simple formula begins to work: if it is everywhere, it must be safe. If it is safe, then it can be tried.

We barely notice how a new mode of thinking establishes itself in the public consciousness: «take a risk – maybe you’ll get lucky.» This is no longer just a bet; it is a life orientation. Fast money, a short path, virtual confidence. And at its core lies the illusion of control. You choose the event yourself, build the accumulator yourself, and if you lose, it is your own fault. Total freedom. And total responsibility – before numbers that govern you.

I am not a moralist. I do not write this in the name of morality. I write in the name of intuition. It tells me that when a society becomes mass-conditioned to a behavioral model in which winning matters more than working, that society weakens. Not immediately. Not loudly. Not in the form of catastrophe. But as a soft, muted shift of priorities. Gradually, the idea of effort disappears. It becomes laughable. Boring. Inefficient. Someone builds – someone bets. Someone creates – someone guesses. And guessing wins.

History has seen this before. In nineteenth-century China, opium began as fashion, then became routine, then turned into catastrophe. In twentieth-century America, the cigarette was an attribute of masculinity, then an attribute of oncology. In late Rome, described by Suetonius and Tacitus, mass games were first a compromise with the populace, then a substitute for civic responsibility, and finally a symptom of decline.

We live in a digital society with analog instincts. We can still be drawn into something simple, bright, and instantaneous. But now – not by shouting, but by a promo code. Not by threat, but by gamification. The primitive trigger is repackaged – and that is enough. And this is the core problem. Because destructive forces that do not provoke rejection are far more dangerous than shock. They become habit. And habit is a form of education.

I do not think we are sliding into an abyss. But I know that the normalization of betting is not a cultural triviality. It is a sign. A turn. A marker of a shift in which play displaces labor, chance replaces meaning, and superficial confidence becomes an alternative to effort. And if we do not notice how this happens, it means it has already happened.

And while we smile at the phrase «claim your free bet,» we are not losing money. We are losing resistance.

Legality ≠ Legitimacy

This is a reflection on the distinction between what is formally permitted and what is internally perceived as just. I attempt to understand why some laws elicit consent while others command mere compliance, and what happens to society when form separates from meaning, and procedure ceases to resonate as truth.