The concept of time has long been a cornerstone in physics, intricately woven into theories that aim to unravel the fabric of reality. Traditionally conceived as the elusive “fourth dimension,” time is often treated as a tangible entity that flows uniformly, akin to the three spatial dimensions.
This perception has been profoundly influenced by historical developments and the language used to describe them, potentially conflating metaphor with reality.
However, a closer examination of how time is utilized in science, particularly in physics, reveals a different picture.
Time, as employed by scientists, is fundamentally a system of measurement based on cyclical processes.
Units of time such as seconds and days are defined by counting repetitions of periodic phenomena.
For instance, a second is defined by a specific number of oscillations of radiation corresponding to the transition between energy levels in a cesium-133 atom:
1 second=9,192,631,770 cycles of radiation of the cesium-133 atom
(BIPM 2019).
Similarly, a day is determined by one complete rotation of the Earth on its axis.
In essence, these units are derived from counting cycles of recurring events. When physicists incorporate time into their equations, they are comparing rates of change in processes to these standard cycles, effectively measuring how one process unfolds relative to another.
This practice underscores that time, in scientific terms, is a tool for quantifying change rather than an independent entity.
Across all branches of physics — from classical mechanics to relativity and quantum mechanics — time consistently appears in equations as a parameter for quantifying rates of change.
In classical mechanics, time measures how positions and velocities of objects change, as seen in Newton’s laws of motion. In quantum mechanics, time acts as an external parameter governing the evolution of quantum states.
Even in Einstein’s theory of relativity, where time and space are supposed to be intertwined, time functions to describe how processes' speed vary relative to different frames of reference, not as a traversable dimension.
Notably, there is no experimental evidence supporting the notion of time as a traversable dimension.
Experiments demonstrating time dilation — such as those involving particle accelerators or precise atomic clocks on GPS satellites — measure variations in the rate at which processes occur under different conditions like velocity or gravitational strength.
These observations reflect changes in processes, not movement through a temporal dimension.
The so-called “time dilation” is better understood as a discrepancy in the rate of change between two systems due to relative motion or gravitational potential, aligning with the view that time measures change.
The Changist model of the cosmos challenges the entrenched notion of time as an independent dimension by positing that time is a system invented to measure and compare rates of change in the universe.
This perspective resonates with Ludwig Wittgenstein’s assertion that philosophical problems often arise from the “bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language”. In physics, language shapes our understanding to such an extent that metaphors become mistaken for literal truths, obscuring the dynamic nature of reality.
Changism is not a new physical theory and does not modify the established equations of relativity, quantum mechanics, or cosmology at the operational level.
It is a new philosophy of time and ontology constrained by physics: an interpretive framework that takes empirical results as fixed, while re-examining the metaphysical commitments often read into them.
Its central claim is that change, not time as a substance or dimension, is ontologically fundamental, and that “time” functions as a ledger of comparisons among changing processes.
Where Changism departs from standard presentations is not in prediction, but in interpretation—aiming to remove idle metaphysical duplication while remaining fully faithful to observation.
Time ≠ Change
In most debates about time, two sides often talk past each other.
One says: “Time is an illusion,” and then concludes that change must also be an illusion, leaving a frozen block universe.
The other replies: “Time obviously exists — the Sun rises, people age, seasons change, entropy increases, evolution happens” —as if change proved time exists.
Looking closely we can see how both sides are making the same move: They are treating time and change as the same thing — just with opposite verdicts.
That’s why one sides thinks that if time is an illusion change is also an illusion, and the other side thinks that if change exist, then that proves time also exists. They both believe time is change and change is time.
Enter Changism
Change is what actually happens: processes, interactions, differences being made.
Time is how we keep track of those changes — a standardized accounting system, not an extra ingredient of reality.
Clocks don’t measure a flowing thing called time — they count cycles and let us compare rates of change.
Even if time were illusory, or if we had never invented the measuring system we know as time, change would keep happening.
And while change is undeniable, its existence does not magically turn time into a physical substance or dimension.
The mistake is not so much denying or defending time, but conflating the ledger with what the ledger records.
This conflation (believing time and chage are the same) is responsible for half the “mysteries” of time: flow, passage, a moving present, “one second per second,” and the temptation to treat spacetime diagrams as frozen reality.
(The rest of the "mysteries" come from wrongly believing time is some sort of dimension or stage.)
Change exists. And we also undeniably use a counting system — based on periodic change — that we call “time”, to organize and compare change.
