How the B-Theory of Time Demands an External Explanation for the Universe

PART I

Introduction

Chapter 1: Why This Matters

Modern physics has reshaped how we think about time. Einstein’s theories of relativity revealed that time is not the absolute, universal flow that common sense suggests. Instead, time is woven together with space into a four-dimensional fabric, and the rate at which time passes depends on how fast you are moving and how strong the gravitational field around you is. Two observers in different circumstances can disagree about which events are simultaneous, and both can be correct.

From these discoveries, many physicists and philosophers have drawn a striking conclusion: perhaps the distinction between past, present, and future is not a feature of reality itself, but merely a feature of our experience. Perhaps all moments in time—what has happened, what is happening, and what will happen—exist with equal reality, like different locations in space. Sydney and London both exist right now, even though you can only be in one place. Perhaps 1066 and 2050 both exist in the same way, even though you can only experience one moment.

This view is called the B-theory of time, and it pictures the universe as a four-dimensional ‘block’—three dimensions of space plus one of time—in which all events simply are at their respective locations. Your birth, your death, and you reading this sentence all exist at their fixed positions in the block in an equally real manner – nothing has faded to non-existence or waiting to happen. The appearance of time ‘flowing’ is something like the experience of driving through a landscape that was always there.

This picture has profound implications for how we think about the universe’s origins. Traditional arguments for God’s existence often appeal to the fact that the universe began—that there was a first moment, before which nothing existed. The kalām cosmological argument, championed by medieval Muslim theologians like al-Ghazali and recently revived by philosophers like William Lane Craig, runs as follows: whatever begins to exist has a cause; the universe began to exist; therefore, the universe has a cause.

But the B-theory seems to dissolve this notion of ‘beginning.’ If the block universe simply is, tenselessly, then there is no moment of ‘coming into being.’ The Big Bang is just the edge of the block, not an event of creation. There is no dramatic transition from nothing to something, no threshold that was crossed. The universe never ‘came into existence’—it simply exists, with a particular geometry that includes a temporal boundary 13.8 billion years in the past direction.

This is why the B-theory is sometimes deployed against theistic arguments. If there is no real ‘beginning,’ the argument goes, then the whole apparatus of asking what caused the universe loses its grip. The universe just is what it is—a brute fact requiring no further explanation.

In this article, I will argue that this conclusion is exactly backwards.

Far from undermining the case for a transcendent explanation of the universe, the B-theory actually strengthens it. When we take the block universe seriously and trace out its implications with care, we find that it demands an external explanation of its existence more clearly than the commonsense picture of time ever did.

Here is a preview of where the argument will take us. We will see that the B-theory, consistently held, reveals a contingent universe that requires an explanation. We will see that within such a block, what we call ‘causation’ serves as explanations of internal relations, patterns and regularities, leaving no room for the universe to explain why it exists from within itself. We will see that the block’s very particularity—why this universe with these specifications rather than some other—cries out for explanation. And we will see that whatever explains the block must be external to it, not subject to time, not contingent, and possessed of the capacity to determine why things are thus rather than otherwise.

In short, the B-theory delivers us to a necessary being upon which the universe depends. The block universe, rigorously pursued, points beyond itself to something utterly unlike anything within it—something that has strong correspondences with the Qur’anic description of God.

A word about what this inquiry is not. I am not attempting to refute the B-theory. It may well be the correct account of time’s nature; I take no position on that question here. Nor is this an academic paper for specialists. My aim is to think through the implications of a widely held view and to do so in a way that any thoughtful person can follow. The reader need not agree with every premise I state—but I will state my premises openly, and the conclusions will follow from them by reasoning that can be examined and challenged.

Let us begin.

PART II

Understanding the Block Universe

Chapter 2: What Is the B-Theory of Time?

The B-theory of time holds that all moments in time—past, present, and future—are equally real. There is no objective ‘now’ that moves through time; rather, the distinction between past, present, and future is merely a matter of perspective, like the distinction between ‘here’ and ‘there’ in space.

Think of time as analogous to space. Just as Sydney and London both exist even though you are only in one place, the B-theory says that 1066 and 2050 both exist even though you are only experiencing one moment. The year 1066 has not ‘faded into nonexistence’ any more than Sydney ceases to exist when you are in London.

On this view, the universe is a four-dimensional ‘block’—three dimensions of space plus one of time—where all events simply are at their respective locations. Your birth exists at one set of coordinates in this block. Your death exists at another. You reading this sentence exists at yet another. None of these is more real than the others; none has ‘passed away’ or ‘not yet arrived.’ 

What the B-Theory Denies

The B-theory rejects several deeply intuitive ideas about time. First, it denies that there is an objective, universe-wide ‘present moment.’ What you experience as ‘now’ is simply your location in the block; it has no special metaphysical status. Second, it denies that time genuinely flows or passes. The sensation of time moving from past through present to future is, on this view, something like an illusion generated by how conscious beings are situated in the block. Third, it denies that the future is somehow less real than the past. Both exist with equal robustness; we simply have access to memories of one direction and not the other.

When you feel time passing, B-theorists say you are experiencing something like the spatial experience of moving through a landscape. The landscape was always there; you are just encountering different parts of it successively. Similarly, the events of your life were always there in the block; your consciousness is just ‘moving’ through them.

The A-Series and the B-Series

The names ‘A-theory’ and ‘B-theory’ come from the philosopher J.M.E. McTaggart, who distinguished two ways of ordering events in time. The A-series orders events as past, present, and future—properties that change as time passes. Yesterday’s meeting was future, then present, now past. The B-series orders events as earlier than, later than, and simultaneous with—relations that are fixed and unchanging. The First World War is earlier than the Second World War, and this relation does not change as time ‘passes.’

The A-theory takes the A-series as fundamental. Time really does flow; the present really is special; things really do come into and pass out of existence. The B-theory takes the B-series as fundamental. The relations of earlier-than and later-than are all there is to temporal order; the appearance of flow and the specialness of the present are features of how we experience the block, not features of the block itself.

The Problem of Language

Here we encounter a difficulty that will matter throughout this inquiry. Our language is saturated with temporal assumptions. Even trying to describe the B-theory, one might end up using words that seem to undermine it. One might be tempted to say that the block contains all moments ‘eternally’ and unchangingly—but ‘eternally’ sounds like persistence through time, which presupposes the very thing the B-theory denies.

A strict B-theorist would say the block does not ‘persist’ through any kind of time at all. It simply is, tenselessly. Even saying it ‘exists’ invites the question ‘exists when?’—but the B-theorist would say this question is malformed. Existence is not something that happens at a time; rather, times are locations within the structure of existence. The block is not in time; time is in it.

This is a bit like asking what is north of the North Pole. The question feels sensible, but it turns out to be confused about the structure it is asking about. ‘North’ is defined relative to the Earth’s geography; once you reach the Pole, the concept simply does not apply anymore. Similarly, ‘when?’ is defined relative to the block’s structure; asking when the block exists tries to apply a concept outside its domain.

When we try to imagine the block, we tend to picture ourselves looking at it from outside—watching it sit there, frozen. But that mental image implicitly places us in a kind of meta-time from which we observe the block. The B-theorist would say this is a failure of imagination, not a feature of the theory. There is no external vantage point, no meta-time in which the block endures. It is simply the totality of what there is.

This point about language and imagination will become important later. For now, note that the B-theorist has already done significant philosophical work in arguing that tenseless existence is coherent, that ‘when?’ questions can be malformed, and that our inability to imagine something does not render it incoherent. These moves will turn out to help rather than hinder the case for a transcendent explanation of the universe’s existence.

Chapter 3: Does the Universe Have a Beginning?

If the B-theory is correct, what happens to the question of whether the universe began?

The question remains valid, but its meaning shifts. On the B-theory, asking ‘Did the universe have a beginning?’ is asking about the geometry of the block. Does the time dimension have a boundary in one direction, or does it extend infinitely?

If the block has an edge—a first moment with nothing earlier—then the universe ‘began’ in the B-theoretic sense. The Big Bang, on this reading, is not an event of coming-into-being but simply the boundary of the temporal dimension. If the time dimension extends infinitely in both directions, then the universe did not begin. Either structure is compatible with the B-theory in principle; the theory itself does not dictate which obtains.

What the B-theory does rule out is a certain dramatic interpretation of the beginning. On the A-theory, we might picture the universe ‘popping into existence’—a moment of transition when reality crossed a threshold from nonexistence to existence. The B-theory has no room for such a transitioning moment. There is no ‘before’ the Big Bang in which nothing existed, waiting for something to appear. ‘Before’ is a relation within the block; it does not apply to the block as a whole.

For the B-theorist, if there is a first moment, it is simply the edge of the structure. Asking what came ‘before’ it is like asking what is south of the South Pole—a question that misunderstands the nature of the thing it is probing.

This matters for how we understand cosmological claims. When physicists say ‘the universe is 13.8 billion years old,’ they are making a claim about geometry—the distance along the time dimension from now to the boundary. This is perfectly compatible with B-theory. When popular science writers say ‘the universe came into being 13.8 billion years ago,’ they may be using language that smuggles in A-theoretic assumptions. The B-theorist accepts the first formulation but would handle the second with care.

The important point for our purposes is this: Time is a feature within the block, not without.

PART III

Beyond Origins: Explanation, Structure, and the Shape of Time

Chapter 4: Why the Universe’s Beginning Still Demands Explanation

Given that time is internal to the block, what becomes of the traditional question about the universe’s beginning?

Let us grant the B-theory as fully and charitably as possible. Past, present, and future are equally real. The universe is a four-dimensional block in which all events exist tenselessly at their respective spacetime coordinates. There is no objective “now,” no flow of time, no coming into being or passing away. The block simply is.

As noted previously, according to this view, the “beginning” of the universe is merely a temporal boundary of a universe with a certain geometric shape. The “beginning” is not a “moment” of dynamic “coming into being”.

But, despite this formulation of a “beginning” of the universe, the question does not lose its metaphysical force altogether. The “beginning” question was often framed in an A-theoretic sense because this is how we experience time and this is how humans have thought of time historically. 

However, the underlying philosophical curiosity that drives the question is to seek an answer, or an explanation, for why the universe exists. Does the reformulation of the universe’s beginning in a B-theoretic sense make the curiosity redundant?

Not necessarily. For example, it is still entirely legitimate and coherent to ask why the universe exists in this particular shape, with this particular boundary in this particular direction, with this highly specific configuration—not merely as a matter of description, but as the realisation of one set of possibilities rather than others.

In fact, B-theory makes this question more intelligible than A-theory. Within the A-theoretic framework, it is hard to imagine a non-temporal prior to the universe. If the universe has a cause, how does it escape time once the universe comes to be? If the universe were eternal—which hardly anyone claims today—the question of a cause of the universe disappears.

B-theory gets rid of these assumptions. If time is a feature within a specific geometry of the universe, then it does not matter whether the set of space-time coordinates are finite or infinite. Because, the question of what explains the universe is not a question about a temporal prior—as B-theorists rightly point out—but rather an ontological, and explanatory, prior.

And if “before” and “after” can be tenseless in B-theory, although it runs counter to our intuition, then why must we dismiss any questions about an ontological and explanatory prior, even if one finds it counterintuitive? 

Moreover, on the question of a finite or infinite universe, B-theory admits both possibilities. Now combine this with the contemporary cosmological view that the universe has a temporal boundary—a “beginning”—13.8 billion years in the past, but may extend infinitely in the opposite temporal direction.

This leaves us with an asymmetric shape of the universe—finite in one direction and infinite in the other, bounded in one direction and unbounded in the other, “aged” in one direction while “ageless” in the other.

This dichotomy clearly demonstrates that both finitude and infinitude are, at least theoretically, within the realm of possibilities for the universe. And within these possibilities, finitude and boundedness were realised in one direction and not the other. The actualisation of one possibility over others yields significant philosophical consequences and adds considerable force to the “why” question for the universe’s existence as we will come to see in later sections. 

And it would be overly simplistic to dismiss this question by appealing to entropy gradients, cosmological laws, or boundary conditions as they do not answer this question. They merely redescribe the same structure from within.

They tell us how the block behaves given its geometry; they do not explain why the geometry is as it is.

To clarify, I am not bringing up the asymmetric structure of the universe as a logical contradiction or rational incoherence. I am highlighting that asymmetry reveals both finitude and infinitude to be genuine possibilities—and that one is realised in each direction. It matters not because it is strange, but because it marks the point at which possibility resolves into actuality. This is specification, and specification demands explanation.

PART IV

The Poverty of Internal Explanation

Chapter 5: Causation as Patterns and Correlations

We now come to what may be the most significant implication of the B-theory for our inquiry: the formulation of causation as predictable patterns and correlations within the block universe.

Consider my own life as an illustration. I was in Bangladesh in 1995. In 2004, I boarded a plane to Australia. In 2026, I am in Australia. On the B-theory, all three of these events exist with equal ontological standing at their respective spacetime coordinates. None is more real than the others; none has ‘faded into nonexistence’ or ‘not yet come to be.’ The block simply contains all of them.

Now ask: did my boarding the plane in 2004 cause my being in Australia in 2026?

On the common-sense view, the answer seems obvious. Of course it did—the earlier event brought about the later one. But on the B-theory, this picture becomes problematic. If all moments simply are—if 2004 does not ‘produce’ or ‘bring about’ 2026 in any dynamic sense—then what work is causation actually doing?

In contemporary philosophy of science, it is widely acknowledged—following Hume—that causation is not something we directly observe in the world. What we observe are regularities, correlations, and patterns of succession. Causal language is a conceptual framework we impose in order to organise these patterns, track correlations, and make reliable predictions. In this sense, causation functions as part of our map of reality, not as a directly apprehended feature of the territory itself.

This remains true under B-theory. At most, what science calls “causation” amounts to the identification of stable relations within the block: if events of type A occur, events of type B reliably occur elsewhere in the structure. Such relations allow us to model the universe, formulate laws, and predict outcomes. They are indispensable for scientific practice. But they are not explanations of existence.

Crucially, these relations presuppose the very reality they describe. They tell us how events are related given that the universe exists with a particular structure, but they do not explain why such a structure exists in the first place. Describing how events correlate with one another within a spacetime manifold is not the same as explaining why that manifold exists at all, or why it has the specific geometry, laws, and boundary conditions that it does.

For this reason, appeals to causation—understood as regularity, correlation, or counterfactual support—cannot discharge the metaphysical explanatory burden raised by a contingent universe. They remain internal to the structure. They organise what is already there. They map behaviour; they do not account for being.

This is not a criticism of science, nor a denial of its extraordinary success. It is a recognition of its scope. Scientific explanation excels at describing patterns and predicting outcomes within an assumed framework. The question at issue here lies at a different level altogether: not how events unfold within the universe, but why there is such a universe—this one, with this structure—rather than none at all, or another instead.

Chapter 6: The Philosophical Choice

At this point, a certain kind of response often appears. ‘The block just is,’ someone might say. ‘It simply exists. Demanding further explanation is confused, or greedy, or scientifically naive.’

This response is often presented as the ‘neutral’ or ‘default’ position—the one that simply accepts what science tells us without adding metaphysical baggage. But that framing is itself a philosophical move.

The decision to treat the block as explanatorily terminal—to say ‘it’s turtles all the way down, and then it just stops’—is not a deliverance of physics. Physics describes the block’s structure, its laws, its regularities. It does not tell us whether to be satisfied with brute contingency or to keep asking why.

When someone says ‘The universe just exists, and demanding further explanation is meaningless,’ they are not reporting a scientific finding. They are adopting a stance—specifically, a kind of explanatory quietism that says certain questions are illegitimate or unanswerable and therefore not worth pursuing.

That is a philosophical commitment, and a contestable one. It carries assumptions: that explanation must bottom out somewhere, that the physical is the appropriate terminus, that asking ‘why this block?’ is somehow confused.

No one is obligated to share those assumptions. Someone who holds that contingent existence calls for explanation in something non-contingent is not being irrational or unscientific. They are operating with a different view—and a historically very mainstream one—of what constitutes a satisfying explanation.

The Map and the Territory

The honest position is this: the B-theory is an account of structure, not of ultimate explanation. To mistake it for the latter is to confuse a map of the territory with an answer to why there is a territory at all.

A map can be wonderfully detailed. It can show you every mountain, every river, every city. But no matter how complete the map becomes, it cannot answer the question of why the territory exists in the first place. The map describes; it does not explain why the territory exists.

Similarly, the B-theory can describe the block in exquisite detail. It can tell us about spacetime geometry, about the arrangement of events, about the boundary conditions. But it cannot answer the question of why there is a block at all, or why this block rather than some other.

Any claim, on the basis of B-theory, that the universe ‘just is’ with no explanation required is a philosophical choice—an ideological preference—a belief. It is not a scientific conclusion.

PART V

The Specification Problem

Chapter 7: Why This Universe?

We have established that the block cannot explain itself from within. Now we must examine more closely why it requires explanation at all.

I will be transparent about some rational premises that I hold to be given—that is, known intuitively without requiring proof. It is not controversial to hold such unprovable premises, just as science itself is based on foundational assumptions that cannot be scientifically proven: that the universe exists objectively independent of our consciousness of it, and that it is objectively knowable.

Here are my foundational premises:

Premise 1: Existence is either Necessary, Possible (Contingent), or Absurd (Metaphysically Impossible).Necessary is that which must be and cannot not be. Possible (or Contingent) is that which may or may not be. Absurd is that which cannot be.

Premise 2: For a Possible thing to exist, there must be something that accounts for why it is realised. Where multiple outcomes are equally possible, the obtaining of one rather than another requires a differentiating factor—something to “tip the balance,” so to speak, in favour of existence over non-existence.

Therefore, throughout what follows, “explanation” is not meant as a causal story unfolding in time, but in the more basic sense of what the universe depends on for its existence at all.

The first premise is a trichotomy. These categories are mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive; everything that exists, could exist, or could not exist falls into exactly one of them.

The second premise is not derived from scientific observation, nor is it offered as a technical proof. It expresses a basic intellectual commitment: that reality is intelligible, and that differences do not occur without something to account for them.

This way of thinking is familiar from the tradition of Imam al-Ghazali. He does not attempt to prove the causal principle by experiment. Rather, he treats it as a starting point of reason itself. Once the relevant concepts are understood, the intellect naturally affirms that things do not simply happen without anything making the difference.

What is often overlooked is that science itself operates on this same expectation. When multiple outcomes are compatible with the known laws of nature, scientists do not accept the result as a brute fact. They look for what made the difference: an initial condition, a hidden interaction, a missing variable. This search only makes sense if one already assumes that outcomes do not diverge without something tipping the balance.

To deny this principle is not to offer an alternative explanation, but to impose a boundary on explanation rather than to satisfy it. For example, one may say that they allow “local” explanations but not “global” ones, that is, explanations operating within the block but not outside. 

But why not? How is drawing that line between “global” and “local” explanations not arbitrary? On what principled basis is explanation permitted to operate within the block, yet forbidden from applying to the block itself? What particular quality is present within the internal relations that demand explanation which is somehow absent from the block? Those drawing the “global” vs “local” distinction do not sufficiently expound on why this particular distinction is important.

They may say that asking for an explanation for the block is a category error. It is like saying every human in Australia has a mother, so Australia must have a mother. 

But this objection is misleading because the claim is not that wholes automatically inherit the properties of their parts. Those seeking an explanation are not confusing categories. They are precisely defining their categories and arguing that the block and its internal relations fall within the same ontological category that demands explanation – contingency. As we will see shortly, my argument relies on categorising the universe as contingent, similar to its contents and internal relations. 

This is where Premise 2 above shines. Please note that it is not the Principle of Sufficient Reason in the strictest sense. It is not claiming that absolutely everything or every fact requires explanation. It clearly identifies the feature that makes explanation necessary – and that is contingency or possibility, something that needs the “tipping of the balance”. Everything about the universe and its contents – the asymmetry of the universe, my specific trajectory through it, the distribution of matter and events in a certain manner – points to variation and diversity, which in turn demonstrates the possibility of different outcomes. The existence of such possibilities and the actualisation of some and not others strongly direct us to seek an explanation, not simply description. 

Such clear demarcation of what features demand explanation seems to be absent from the ones claiming that the physical and temporal boundaries of the universe is where explanations cease. Even if one claims that this position is coherent, one would be hard pressed to defend it as the more preferable choice from a rational perspective.

Therefore, I am not interested in “smuggling in” hidden premises that carry unacknowledged metaphysical premises. I state Premise 2 openly, as a matter of transparency and intellectual honesty. All reasoning begins somewhere. The question is not whether we rely on such starting points, but whether we are willing to acknowledge them.

The Block Is Contingent

Is the universe necessary, contingent, or absurd?

It is clearly not absurd or impossible—it exists. The question is whether it is necessary or contingent.

On the face of it, the universe appears deeply contingent. It has a particular character that could have been otherwise. Consider: the 4D block has a specific duration (approximately 13.8 billion years). It has a specific distribution of matter and energy. It has specific initial conditions. It contains my specific trajectory through it—Bangladesh in 1995, the plane in 2004, Australia in 2026.

Why is the universe approximately 13.8 billion years old and not older or younger? Why are things and events distributed in this particular way within the spacetime block and not another? The fact that I can potentially occupy different spacetime coordinates makes my trajectory merely possible. Things could have been in reverse. There is nothing necessary about the sequence of my life events.

This is what we might call the specification problem: the universe does not just exist; it exists with this particular configuration. Each feature of the block represents a determination among alternatives. Why thisblock rather than one slightly larger, or with different initial entropy, or with me never leaving Bangladesh?

Even if someone argues that the block must exist in some sense, they cannot easily argue that it must exist with precisely these specifications. The specifications cry out for explanation—they are the very definition of what ‘could have been otherwise’ means.

The Argument Assembled

Given what we have established about B-theory and the two premises, the logical structure of the argument is as follows.

First, the B-theory universe—whether finite or infinite—exhibits a highly specific structure: a determinate spacetime geometry, asymmetries, laws, and distributions that could have been otherwise.

Second, whatever could have been otherwise is contingent rather than necessary.

Third, contingent reality requires something to account for why it is realised in one way rather than another (Premise 2).

Fourth, this explanatory account cannot be found within the contingent reality itself, since the block cannot explain its own overall structure from within.

Fifth, B-theory does not rule out explanation that is external to the spacetime block, but only denies temporal priority.

Therefore: an explanation external to the spacetime block is rationally required.

This is not a proof in the mathematical sense, but it is a robust piece of reasoning that B-theorists cannot easily dismiss. To reject this conclusion, one must either accept brute contingency as a terminus (which many find intellectually unsatisfying and which sits uncomfortably with the practice of explanation itself), or deny that specification—where multiple alternatives were genuinely possible—imply contingency (which strains intuition severely).

For example, one might suggest that the structure of the block could be fixed by some abstract necessity — a law, a quantum state, or a fundamental condition requiring no further explanation. But abstract necessity, by itself, does not specify a particular contingent outcome. Laws describe what is permitted; they do not select which permissible possibility is realised. Probability distributions characterise ranges of outcomes; they do not explain why one outcome rather than another obtains. 

Moreover, whatever physical or natural feature is proposed—whether a quantum state, a law of nature, or an initial condition—such features are themselves contingent. They could have been otherwise. Appealing to them therefore does not remove the demand for explanation; it merely relocates it. The question of why this determinate structure exists rather than another has not disappeared—it has only been deferred. At this stage, the issue is not whether the explanation involves will or intention, but whether it actually accounts for why this concrete structure exists rather than another. 

One might say that there were no alternatives to select from to begin with. Instead of explaining specification, this view abandons contingency altogether. And that is a philosophical choice. From here on, the disagreement is no longer about scientific description, but about metaphysical commitment.

Let us now turn to what this external explanation must be like.

PART VI

What the Explanation Must Be

Chapter 8: Deriving the Attributes

We have argued that the spacetime block requires an explanation external to itself. What can we say about this explanation? What properties must it possess?

I will restrict myself to properties that our argument necessarily implies—not importing additional theological content, but simply tracing out what follows from what we have established.

1. External to the Spacetime Block

By definition, since we established that the explanation cannot reside within the 4D block it explains, it is not located at any spatiotemporal coordinates. This follows immediately from the argument that the block cannot explain itself from within.

2. Not Subject to B-Theoretic Time (Timeless)

If the explanation were subject to B-theoretic time, it would itself be part of a block requiring explanation—generating an infinite regress or circularity. Whatever explains the block cannot be another block of the same type.

The above two attributes have a significant implication. They make it easier for us to acknowledge that this “external explanation” of the universe is not only tenseless (something that B-theory already concedes despite being counter-intuitive), but also timeless. As we mentioned earlier, B-theory does not assume a meta-time. So there is no reason for us to unnecessarily invoke a separate time dimension.

Therefore, B-theorists have already done the philosophical work of showing that tenseless existence is coherent—the block simply is, without persisting through any meta-time. They have shown that ‘when?’ questions can be malformed when directed at the wrong kind of entity. They have acknowledged that our inability to imagine something does not render it incoherent.

Now, if the B-theorist accepts all this for the universe, they have effectively surrendered the objection that a timeless explanation is incoherent or inconceivable. The same conceptual moves that make sense of the block’s tenseless existence make sense of an external explanation’s timeless ‘act.’

This dissolves several pseudo-problems that are often raised against theistic accounts of creation:

‘What caused God to create?’—Malformed. A timeless act has no prior trigger; it is not an event in a sequence.

‘Why didn’t God create sooner?’—Malformed. There is no ‘sooner’ external to the block.

‘What was God doing before He created the universe?’—This question presupposes that God exists in time, with a ‘before’ and ‘after.’ But the explanation we have derived is not subject to time at all.

The B-theorist who presses these questions against theism is sawing off the branch they are sitting on. They have already conceded the coherence of tenseless, timeless existence when it suited their account of the universe. They cannot selectively revoke that concession when it suits a competing metaphysics.

3. Not Contingent

A contingent explanation for a contingent thing merely pushes the question back. If the explanation is itself something that ‘may or may not be,’ then by Premise 2 it requires something to tip the balance in favour of its existence.

This generates a dilemma. Either we have an infinite regress of contingent explanations—each requiring the next, none providing a terminus—or we have circularity—the explanation explaining itself—or we have a brute fact—a contingent thing that simply exists without explanation.

None of these is satisfactory. An infinite regress of contingent things never arrives at an explanation; it merely defers explanation indefinitely. Circularity violates the very logic of explanation; a contingent thing cannot account for why it is rather than isn’t by pointing to itself. And a brute fact is not a solution but an abandonment of the inquiry.

The explanation must therefore be non-contingent. Otherwise, the chain of explanation never terminates coherently.

4. Capable of Specification

Premise 2 requires something that accounts for why this configuration rather than another. The specification problem we identified does not apply only to the block’s existence but to its particular character.

This implies the explanation has some capacity to determine or specify. It cannot be inert or indifferent to outcomes. Whatever explains why the universe has these laws, these initial conditions, this specific arrangement of events, must be the kind of thing that can account for determination among alternatives.

It should be noted that I am not claiming “will” or “agency” yet, although the capability to specify points that way. The topic of “will” requires more careful consideration and is beyond the scope of the current enquiry.

5. Not Composed of Parts

If the explanation were composite—made of parts in a particular arrangement—we could ask why these parts in this arrangement. The specification problem would reassert itself. The parts could have been configured otherwise, or could have failed to combine at all.

This suggests that the explanation cannot be composite in any way that generates further questions. It must be, in some metaphysically robust sense, non-composite.

6. Not Merely Pattern or Regularity

We established that within the block, causation reduces to pattern-description. The external explanation cannot be of this type—otherwise it explains nothing; it is merely another arrangement requiring explanation. If the explanation were just another pattern or regularity, we could ask why that pattern obtains.

Utter Dissimilarity

Consider now what these six attributes, taken together, imply about the nature of the external explanation. Everything in the universe—every entity, event, object, or phenomenon we can point to—has spatiotemporal location; the external explanation does not. Everything in the universe is subject to earlier-than/later-than relations; the explanation is not. Everything in the universe is contingent; the explanation is not. Everything in the universe is composed of parts, structures, arrangements; the explanation is not. Everything in the universe is a pattern or configuration; the explanation cannot be.

This is not merely a difference in degree—like the difference between a quark and a galaxy, or between a millisecond and a billion years. Those are differences within the same categorical framework. Both quarks and galaxies have spatiotemporal location; both are contingent configurations; both are patterns.

The dissimilarity we are describing is categorical. The external explanation does not sit at a different point on the same spectrum; it is not on the spectrum at all. It belongs to a fundamentally different ontological category.

Yet it is not utterly disconnected from the universe. The universe depends on it for both its existence and its particular configuration. It is precisely what accounts for why this universe exists rather than not, and why it exists as it does. The dissimilarity is ontological—what the explanation is—not relational—how it stands to what it explains.

Chapter 9: From Non-Contingent to Necessary

We have established that the external explanation cannot be contingent. But is it merely non-contingent as a negative characterisation, or is it positively necessary?

Let us return to the trichotomy from Premise 1: existence is either Necessary, Possible (Contingent), or Absurd. These categories are mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive. Everything falls into exactly one of them.

The Explanation Cannot Be Absurd

The absurd, by definition, cannot exist. But we have argued that an external explanation is required—the universe’s contingency and specification demand it. Something that is required for the existence of what actually exists cannot itself be impossible. So the absurd is ruled out.

The Explanation Cannot Be Contingent

Suppose the external explanation were contingent—suppose it ‘may or may not be.’ Then by Premise 2, it would itself require something to tip the balance in favour of its existence.

We have already traced the dilemma it leads to. Infinite regress: each contingent explanation requires a further contingent explanation, ad infinitum, and the chain of explanation never terminates. Circularity: the explanation explains itself, which violates the logic of explanation for contingent things. Brute fact: the contingent explanation simply exists without explanation, which is abandonment rather than solution.

Also, notice that in practice, no one actually holds to infinite regress when it comes to the universe. The person who says “the universe just is” has not embraced an endless chain of explanations; they have chosen a terminus. They have simply located it within the physical realm.

So the real question is not whether the chain of explanation should terminate—virtually everyone agrees it must, somewhere. The question is where. Which makes for a more rational stopping point: a contingent, specified structure that happens to exist, or something whose very nature is to exist—something that requires no further explanation because non-existence is not a coherent possibility for it?

Therefore Necessary

Since the external explanation cannot be absurd, and cannot be contingent, it must be necessary.

This is not an arbitrary stipulation. It follows from the logic of explanation itself. To explain contingent existence, you ultimately need something whose existence is not contingent—something that does not require the balance to be tipped because there is no balance to tip. It exists by virtue of what it is. Its essence involves existence. It cannot not be.

Necessary existence means: the explanation exists, and there is no possible state of affairs in which it does not exist. Its non-existence is not merely false but impossible—it falls into the category of the absurd.

This is stronger than mere permanence or indestructibility. Something could, in principle, exist forever within the block while still being contingent—it happens to exist at all times, but it could have not existed. Necessary existence is not about duration; it is about modal status. A necessary being could not have failed to exist—not because something prevents its non-existence, but because non-existence is simply not a coherent possibility for it.

Necessity and Non-Composition Reinforce Each Other

There is an important connection between necessity and non-composition. A composite thing—something made of parts in a particular arrangement—faces the specification problem: why these parts in thisarrangement? This is the signature of contingency. The parts could have been otherwise configured, or could have failed to combine at all.

A necessary being cannot have this character. If it were composite, we could intelligibly ask what accounts for its composition—and necessity would be undermined. So necessity implies, or at least strongly suggests, non-composition.

Summary

If the explanation were absurd, it could not exist—but it must, to explain what exists. If the explanation were contingent, it would require further explanation, leading to regress, circularity, or brute fact—none of which are satisfactory termini. If the explanation is necessary, it exists by virtue of what it is; no further explanation is required or even possible. The chain of explanation terminates coherently.

The external explanation is therefore not merely non-contingent as a negative characterisation. It is positively necessary—it must be, and cannot not be. This is the only coherent terminus for the explanatory demand that contingent, specified, finite existence generates.

We have now established seven attributes of whatever explains the universe: (1) external to the spacetime block, (2) not subject to B-theoretic time (timeless), (3) not contingent, (4) capable of specification/determination, (5) not composed of parts, (6) not merely pattern or regularity, and (7) necessary.

PART VII

Convergence

Chapter 10: The Unexpected Alliance

We began with the B-theory of time—a framework sometimes invoked to challenge theistic arguments by problematising notions of beginning, causation, and temporal creation. What we have found is that the B-theory, rigorously pursued, actually strengthens the case for a necessary being.

First, the B-theory reveals the universe as highly specified; and, as we have seen, even the asymmetry of its geometry indicates that genuine alternatives were possible. Second, it reframes internal causation in terms of predictable patterns and correlations, which may describe how events relate within the block but leave no resources for explaining why the block itself exists rather than not. Third, it provides conceptual resources—tenseless existence, the coherence of timelessness, and the recognition that some temporal questions are malformed—that make a timeless, external explanation more intelligible, not less.

The B-theorist who rejects this conclusion must therefore either accept brute contingency as a terminus (a philosophical choice, not a neutral default), deny the specification problem (which sits uneasily with the manifest particularity of the universe), or propose some alternative explanation that escapes the same logic—something that has yet to be clearly articulated.

In Islamic theology, when we speak of God’s creation, we are not speaking of a temporal act in the A-theoretic sense. We are speaking of a timeless ‘act’—hard to imagine, certainly, and the limitations of language smuggle in a sense of temporality. But B-theorists should be sympathetic to this dilemma. They acknowledge the limitations of language and imagination. They concede that questions can be ‘malformed.’ They recognise that what cannot be pictured may nonetheless be coherent.

The relationship between the timeless explanation and the block is not one of temporal sequence but of dependence. The block depends on its explanation the way a conclusion depends on its premises—not as an event following a prior event, but as a structure whose existence is intelligible only in light of something beyond itself.

Chapter 11: Al-Samad—The One Upon Whom All Depends

Let me trace the logic one last time to its final implication.

The universe, on the B-theory, is not merely a container with independent contents. The universe is the totality of events, entities, and configurations within the 4D block. There is no ‘universe’ separate from the things and events that compose it. The block just is the sum of its contents arranged spatiotemporally.

Therefore, to explain the block is to explain everything within it. If the Necessary being explains why this block exists rather than not, and why it has this configuration rather than another, then it explains: why there are particles rather than none; why the laws of physics have these parameters rather than others; why I was in Bangladesh in 1995, on a plane in 2004, and in Australia in 2026; why every event sits at its particular coordinates rather than elsewhere—or nowhere.

The specification problem does not apply only to the block’s outer boundaries or gross structure. It applies all the way down. Every element within the block is a contingent configuration that could have been otherwise. Every event is a determination among alternatives. The entire tapestry of existence—in its totality and in its every thread—is contingent and specified.

The Necessary Being, as that which explains the block’s existence and determines its configuration, is therefore that on which everything the block contains depends.

Absolute Independence

And the converse holds with equal force. The Necessary being cannot depend on the block—it explains the block, not vice versa. It cannot depend on anything within the block—everything within is contingent and derivative. It cannot depend on anything outside the block that is itself contingent—or the regress resumes. It cannot depend on its own parts—it has none.

There is simply nothing for it to depend on. Dependency flows in one direction only: from the contingent to the Necessary, from the specified to the Specifier.

The Qur’anic Correspondence

The correspondence with classical Islamic theology is striking—and I do not think it is coincidental. In Surah al-Ikhlas, God is described as al-Samad—a term that classical commentators explain as: that to which all things turn in need; that which is self-sufficient and sought by all else.

This is precisely what the argument yields: a being upon which the entire contingent order depends for its existence and configuration, while it depends on nothing whatsoever—not on time, not on space, not on parts, not on prior conditions, not on external causes.

The Qur’anic formula is remarkable in its precision:

قُلْ هُوَ اللَّهُ أَحَدٌ ۝ اللَّهُ الصَّمَدُ ۝ لَمْ يَلِدْ وَلَمْ يُولَدْ ۝ وَلَمْ يَكُن لَّهُ كُفُوًا أَحَدٌ

Say, “The truth is that Allah is One.. Allah is Besought of all, needing none [al-Samad].

He neither begot anyone, nor was he begotten. And equal to Him has never been any one.”

Each line corresponds to what we have derived:

Ahad (One): uniqueness and non-composition—no parts, no plurality at the level of ultimate explanation.

Al-Samad: absolute independence combined with universal dependence upon Him.

Neither begets nor is begotten: not derived from anything prior, not giving rise to anything of the same ontological category.

None comparable: utter dissimilarity—nothing in creation shares His categorical attributes.

Chapter 12: Conclusion

We began with a puzzle. The B-theory of time, with its picture of a four-dimensional block in which all moments exist equally, seems to dissolve the very notion of the universe ‘coming into being.’ If there is no real temporal flow, no genuine becoming, how can we speak of creation? How can we ask what caused the universe? The block simply is.

What we have found is that the B-theory, far from undermining the case for a transcendent explanation of the universe’s existence, actually strengthens it. The block universe, rigorously examined, demands an external explanation more clearly than the common-sense picture of flowing time ever did.

The block is contingent—it has a particular character that could have been otherwise. The block cannot explain itself from within—internal ‘causation’ explains correlations and patterns within the block, not why the block exists. The block’s very particularity—its specific duration, its specific contents, its specific arrangement—cries out for explanation. And whatever explains the block must be external to it, timeless, not contingent, capable of specification, not composed of parts, not merely pattern, and ultimately necessary.

This is not a proof that compels assent from unwilling minds. Philosophy rarely works that way. It is a demonstration that belief in a Necessary being is not only rational but demanded by the very framework often thought to undermine it.

The B-theorist who says ‘the block just is, and that’s the end of it’ is making a philosophical choice—one that sits uncomfortably with the drive to explain that animates all inquiry. The alternative is to follow the argument where it leads: to a being upon which all things depend, while it depends on none; utterly unlike creation, yet intimately related to it as that upon which all things depend.

* * *

Al-hamdu lillah.