HOW REAL IS REAL?
Is There a World Behind What We See?
Understanding our biological equipment—even at a basic level—and reflecting on it can open fascinating insights about ourselves and the reality we live in. Most of us treat biology as a dry subject or a field for specialists. Yet, this vast science patiently waits for our curiosity, offering keys to wisdom for anyone who dares to look. Especially when we realize that we live in a universe made up only of what we can see, remember, and perceive.
How Do We Perceive the World?
The visible universe, the reality we perceive, and the world around us are, as we now know very well, nothing more than the products of our perception. There is no direct way for us to know what the world “really” looks like or what its true “substance” is. The reason behind this unsettling fact is actually quite simple: the senses of humans and all living beings are designed not to detect what truly exists out there, but only what is useful for survival.
The slice of reality we perceive through our limited senses doesn’t allow us to understand the external world as it truly is. We move through life with bodies equipped with narrow sensory windows and nervous systems built primarily for survival.
Every creature experiences a completely different version of “reality,” depending on its sensory organs and the neural structures that process information. Even though we cannot directly know what perceptual worlds other species—or even other humans—inhabit, a look at how our sensory and neural systems work makes one thing clear: we probably don’t live in the same world. Bees, birds, reptiles, and marine mammals—each species experiences an exaggerated version of what matters most for survival and remains completely blind to what doesn’t.
What We Call “Visual Perception”
When we “see,” we think we are perceiving the images of objects. But vision, in fact, works quite differently. You may have heard that the entire universe is filled with electromagnetic waves of all kinds—this vast range is called the electromagnetic spectrum. From subatomic gamma rays to kilometer-long radio waves, there are countless forms of energy transmission within this spectrum.
Cell phone signals, microwave radiation, radio waves—they’re all parts of one continuous field that we humans have divided into arbitrary segments. Our eyes can only detect an infinitesimally small portion of this vast spectrum: the narrow band we call visible light. The receptors in our eyes pick up waves in the range of roughly 400–700 nanometers. That’s all. Every color, every sunset, every rainbow we see—this magnificent spectacle—is produced by our ability to catch this tiny slice of light energy.
And it doesn’t stop there. Light only reaches the receptors in our eyes. These cells then convert the energy of light into electrical impulses, which are sent to the brain via the optic nerve. But here’s the twist: no light ever reaches the brain. Our brain—locked away in a dark skull—never “sees” light at all. It only interprets electrical signals. It uses previously learned patterns to reconstruct the world internally: shapes, colors, motion—all recreated inside our minds.
That process, that inner simulation, is what we call “seeing.” In reality, vision has nothing to do with images outside us.
Other Worlds
Some creatures can see ultraviolet light; others perceive infrared or even ultrasonic vibrations. Each species perceives a world suited to its evolutionary needs. Humans, for example, can see red wavelengths quite well—because our ancestors relied heavily on spotting ripe fruits among green foliage. Those who could better detect this range had a survival advantage, and thus we inherited that skill.
Bees, birds, and all other living beings have similarly fine-tuned senses, shaped over billions of years of evolutionary trial and error. Our perceptual world is simply an echo of our ancestral past.
This deeply humbling truth applies not only to ordinary people but also to scientists, philosophers, and thinkers. No one escapes it. No matter how much knowledge or intellect one possesses, we are all bound by the same sensory constraints.
And What About “Me”?
Now think of yourself: the “I” you see in the mirror, the one formed by how others see you, by your sensations and memories. How real is that “I,” really?
For me, the more I’ve understood these truths, the more I’ve tried to resist the urge to rush to judgment based solely on what I see, hear, or believe I understand.
It’s a practice I recommend to everyone.
Mr. Sinan exploration of this subject offers a powerful framework for understanding the biological machinery of the human being. Yet the true importance lies not in analyzing the parts individually, but in perceiving the larger picture.
Yes, the brain does not see; it only interprets. But once a person realizes this, they cease to be merely the observer and become the awareness that observes itself.
At that moment, the biological boundaries of the human begin to dissolve.
Recognizing that what we call “I” is largely the product of survival-driven instincts opens the door to a new evolutionary threshold.
From this point onward, evolution no longer unfolds in the body but in the depths of consciousness.
When a human transcends the fear of survival, they begin to transform the blind program of nature itself.
At that stage, one no longer merely observes nature but starts to reshape it through awareness.
This marks the emergence of Human 2.0 — the being who moves beyond survival, seeking meaning, depth, and conscious evolution.
Mr. Sinan Bey’s work stands as a meaningful contribution at this frontier, illuminating the transition from instinctual existence to self-aware being.
For true evolution occurs not in the flesh, but in the consciousness that dares to go beyond fear.