warfare and fires, suffering the loss of tens of thousands of scrolls, many of which contained
recorded knowledge of the ancients. Due to the survival of its smaller libraries and museums,
Alexandria remained a seat of learning for a few hundred years, but rioting between local
pagans and Christian sects eventually led to the ransacking of these last repositories of wisdom.
In 391 CE, following a final clash between pagan sciences and religious ideology, Alexandria’s
museums and libraries were destroyed, whereupon Roman emperor Theodosius ordered them
razed and had churches built on their sites. Hypatia, one of the last of Alexandria’s notable
scholars, was brutally murdered by followers of St. Cyril, Archbishop of Alexandria, in 415 CE.
Noting the lapse of over a thousand years between the death of Hypatia and the work of
Copernicus and other scientifically progressive thinkers, Sagan asks why the seeds of material
knowledge sown in Alexandria bore little scientific fruit. He then speculates that the rise of
religious dogma, the decline of Roman culture, the failure of Alexandria’s scientists to challenge
the assumptions of political and religious rulers, and science’s lack of popular appeal all
prevented the masses from valuing scientific and philosophical inquiry and helped usher in the
Dark Ages.5 Sagan’s yearning to inspire a quest for knowledge resembling the one prevalent
during the era of Alexandria’s famed libraries prompted the television series Cosmos, aired in
1980. Then, in 2014, his wife Ann Druyan produced a homage to Cosmos titled “Cosmos: A
Spacetime Odyssey.”
Questions concerning the periodic acquisition and loss of knowledge also occupied the minds of
ancient Vedic Indians, who offered an alternative view in a model of human progress called the
Yuga theory or cycle of the ages. These stargazers, who likewise measured human progress by
the acquisition of knowledge, proposed their cycle theory via an oral tradition that was
eventually recorded in a text called the Manu Samhita6 after centuries of astronomical
investigations into the relative capacity of the human race to fathom the mechanics of the
universe and the mystery of self-awareness. Ancient Babylonians and later Chaldeans,
Hebrews, and Greek philosophers adopted models paralleling ancient India’s.
In their cycle of the ages, Vedic astronomers predicted that humanity’s potential to investigate
the cosmos and the self, and thus acquire both material and self-knowledge, underwent
predictable periods of gain and loss that could be calculated thousands of years into the future.
As unlikely as their claim appears to be, testing it requires us to look for historical clues that
indirectly question whether organized religion has an eternal place in human destiny. For
example, while the decline in Ionian science from the time of Thales to the era of Hypatia and its
ensuing resurgence culminating in the European Enlightenment may have been accurately or
accidentally predicted by the cycle theory, the value of this astronomical model is not so much in
the possible explanation it gives but in the questions it raises. That is, the cycle theory offers a
context for the study of human history that includes practical parameters for assessing
humanity’s periods of progress and decline and appreciating religion’s own mortality.
According to the cycle theory of the ancient Indians, two ages of the gods—which Western
astronomers call one Great, or Platonic, Year—equal one full cyclical precession of the
equinoxes. In one Great Year, one age of the gods is an evolutionary period and the other is a
devolutionary period. All told, in one Great Year the world passes through four ascending ages
and four descending ages which, together with their Sanskrit names, are termed: Iron (Kali),
Bronze (Dvapara), Silver (Treta), and Gold (Krita or alternatively Satya). The cycle theory
applied an average precessional rate of 54”, meaning it takes roughly 12,000 years to pass
through the four descending ages and another 12,000 years to pass through the four ascending
ages (see the illustration titled “Cycle of the Ages,” on page TK).7
The cycle theory strangely asserts that humanity’s periodic gain and loss of knowledge is
caused by a galactic magnetic field generated at the heart of the Milky Way by the dispersion of
a subatomic substance called prana, which affects, among all other things, the human cerebrum
and nervous system. The influence of this subtle, and to-date unmeasurable, magnetism can be
illustrated by the following analogy. Suppose an experimenting scientist constructs a colossal
sphere in which he builds a gigantic roller-coaster and places a single powerful light source at
the center. You are in the sphere and it is floating in deep space, reducing to near zero all
gravitational and electromagnetic influences outside its perimeters. The only way you know
where you are in the sphere is by the relative brightness of the light source as you move toward
and away from it. The scientist then hands you a book, which you take with you to a seat on the
roller-coaster. At times during the ride, the light source is too far away for reading, while at other
times it is closer, so you take advantage of brighter periods to read as much as you can,
learning about such topics as your role in this experiment, the other riders, the roller-coaster’s
movements and composition, the size of the sphere, and the electromagnetic spectrum emitted
by the light source.
In this analogy, you represent humanity, the book represents knowledge of the cosmos and
self-awareness, the sphere is our galaxy, and the seats of the roller-coaster are planetary
systems, one of which is our solar system. As moons revolve with planets and planets with suns
around common centers of gravity, according to the cycle theory so does our sun revolve with a
twin star in roughly 24,000-year cycles as both revolve around the “light” source at the galactic
center. The Gold and Silver ages signify portions of the ride where the solar system is relatively
close to the light at the galactic center, allowing humanity to accumulate material and
self-knowledge. During the Iron Age, humanity is at its greatest distance from the center, able to
understand little about either the cosmos or the sense of self. Each age has an ascending arc
during which the earth moves toward the light, and a descending arc when it moves away from
the light. As the earth moves toward the light, humanity evolves because the galactic center has
a pronounced magnetic effect on the nervous system, permitting individuals to reach more
elevated levels of intellectual and intuitive expression by enlivening the nervous system; these
higher age humans are generally able to transcend earlier limitations in their comprehension of
the cosmos and the substance of self awareness. By contrast, as the earth moves way from the
light, humanity devolves, becoming more encumbered by physicality.
According to the cycle theory, 11,501 BCE marked the most recent start of four descending
ages, signaling the earth’s journey away from the galactic emanation and humanity’s loss of
intellectual and intuitive acumen. This arc of slow degeneration lasted for 12,000 years, making
499 CE the low point in exposure to galactic magnetism and the onset of the period Western
historians call the Dark Ages. Thus, the cycle theory states that humanity’s loss of knowledge
began about 12,000 years before the notorious assault on science and learning that culminated
in the destruction of the libraries of Alexandria.
In 500 CE, the cycle began its present arc of four ascending ages. The first, the ascending Iron
Age lasting 1,200 years, was marked by humanity’s general inability to fathom anything beyond
the grossest properties of matter. The second age, the ascending Bronze Age, or era of “space
annihilation,” which began in 1700 CE and will last for 2,400 years, is the current period.
Assisting humanity’s emergence from the darkness of the preceding millennia, it will usher in
rediscovery of the finer atomic substance and electromagnetic forces necessary to surmount
obstacles posed by vast distances.
Intriguingly and perhaps by chance, historical events since 500 CE seem to reflect the
characteristics attributed to these two ages by ancient Indian astronomers. The decline of the
Roman Empire, epitomized by the downfall of Ionian and Alexandrian science, left the Western
world in a near permanent state of war and ignorance, with hardly a recollection of past
societies or future possibilities. Beginning in the early eighteenth century, scientists made major
discoveries about electrical, magnetic, and gravitational forces; greatly broadened the
understanding of astronomy; invented the microscope; and developed breakthrough theories on
the refraction of light. Additional technologies for overcoming the limitations of space were
quickly developed and utilized on a global scale. Today, just over three hundred years into the
cycle theory’s ascending Bronze Age, we have television, telephone, radio, trains, cars,
airplanes, satellites, rockets, powerful telescopes, and the Internet—all designed to overcome
constrictions imposed by vast distances.
In 4100 CE the Bronze Age will cede to the ascending Silver Age, the era of “time annihilation,”
which will last for 3,600 years. During the Silver Age, humanity will supposedly learn to control
prana, the superfine fundamental substance that underlies gross atoms and is responsible for a
vibratory-based universe manifesting laws of nature in variable dimensions of time.
Concurrently, the subtle magnetism emitted from the center of the galaxy and responsible for
cerebral enlivening will also become measurable.
Finally, the ascending Gold Age, to begin in 7700 CE and last for 4,800 years, will mark the true
age of enlightenment for the human race and annihilation of the limits to scientific and
self-knowledge imposed by misperceptions of cause and effect. During this era, the finest
substance of elementary causal ideas underlying prana will be understood, opening doors to
widespread knowledge of the substance of awareness. Ancient Indian philosophers called the
substance of self infinite truth, existence, and bliss. They considered it the omnipresent and
omnipotent Infinite Being within which the entire cosmos exists as only the reflection of an idea.
In approximately 12,500 CE, at the end of the ascending Gold Age, the sun’s current
24,000-year cycle will be complete, signaling the start of a new descending arc through the
Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron ages. During this time of devolution, knowledge of the cosmos
and self will be almost completely obliterated from humanity’s memory. Such knowledge,
according to the hoary cycle theory, is therefore gathered not in the service of ever-evolving
societies but rather to provide for the expansion and expression of the individuated sense of
self.
It is hard to imagine and seems highly unlikely that human progress is influenced by
unmeasuarble forces emanating from the center of the galaxy. Moreover, the cycle theory can
be only partially tested in a narrow historical time frame, by looking at knowledge acquired by
societies preceding the Roman Empire and the attendant destruction of the Library of
Alexandria. In terms of mathematics, the numerical system of positional notation we use today,
complete with the zero, was utilized in India thousands of years before the rise of the Roman
Empire. Today, the West refers to numbers as Arabic numerals, but in Arabia they were called
al Arqan al Hindu, Hindu numbers. In fact a Hindu mathematician, Vedic priest Baudhayana (c.
800 BCE), enunciated the so-called Pythagorean theorem more than two centuries before
Pythagoras. Later, Babylonians employed positional notation but did not understand use of the
zero until it was imported from India; moreover, their computations were based on the limiting
sexigesimal system. Even so, Babylonians were more sophisticated mathematically than
Greeks of the descending Iron Age, while the Greeks, in turn, were more sophisticated
mathematically than the later Romans, whose calculations were limited by cumbersome Roman
numerals.
Ancient India’s mathematical accomplishments were paralleled by scientific achievements.
Advances in astronomy had sprung from an introduction of the lunar and solar partitioning of the
zodiac, the theory of epicycles, the division of the day into twenty-four hours, and the
asymmetric circuit of the sun.8 Like Erastosthenes of Alexandria, ancient Indians did not
consider the earth flat—a notion taken up by a large portion of humanity during the descending
Iron Age—and they also had sophisticated knowledge of human physiology, phonology,
pharmacology, and psychology. Though the relative dating of mathematical and scientific
achievements in the ancient world appears to substantiate some predictions of the cycle theory,
it is still far from confirmed.
From a broader perspective, the cycle theory asks us to view societies, including their progress
and degeneration, in much larger time spans. For example, though some unknown society
preceding ancient Egyptian culture must have provided supportive knowledge of how to build
such architectural triumphs as the pyramids and the Sphinx, most of ancient Egypt’s roughly
four-thousand-year history entailed stagnation and decline, its devolution beginning as early as
the twenty-fifth century BCE according to many historians. By the sixteenth century BCE, Egypt
was practically a dead civilization, even though it lasted nearly another two thousand years. By
499 CE, the darkest point in the cycle theory model, Egyptian society was gone, leaving no
decipherable clues regarding its foundational civilization.
Another society reflecting the degeneration of a declining age is that of Rapa Nui (Easter
Island). When discovered in 1722 by the Dutch admiral Jacob Roggeveen, Rapa Nui’s
Polynesian inhabitants had neither the ability to carve giant statues, nearly a thousand of which
carpeted the island, nor the capacity to navigate the seas, another of their ancestors’
achievements. In an apparently degenerate phase, overpopulation and overexploitation of
resources had led to wars, cannibalism, and a decline in knowledge and social order.
Inhabitants of the island, claimed historian Arnold Toynbee, had “begot in each generation ruder
and more incompetent offspring.”9
The Mayan culture experienced a similar fate. Despite its rich inheritance in knowledge and
traditions from the ancient Olmec, the Mayan culture, possibly originating as early as the second
millennium BCE, underwent a steady increase in population and hierarchism during the darkest
portion of the cycle. The Maya had erected immense public buildings at the heart of magnificent
city-states and excelled in astronomy and mathematics, building observatories and developing a
vigesimal numeric system inclusive of zero. Their comprehensive calendar, likely influenced by
the Olmec, rivals our own and is today the most sophisticated and precise in all of
Mesoamerica. But as the Dark Ages advanced and warfare increased, the Mayan civilization
could not survive the chaos, the increase and subsequent dramatic loss of most of its
population, or the destruction of its rain-forest ecosystem. With the rise in power of priests who
controlled more and more aspects of society, sacrifice became prevalent, along with bloodletting
and other rituals infused with fear of supernatural forces.
The decline of Roman civilization led to a similar breakdown in the social order and ultimately
the spread of Christianity throughout the Roman Empire. Philosopher-rulers like Marcus
Aurelius had given the Christian cult little attention while the society was still robust. Toynbee
wrote that the Greco-Roman historian “would diagnose both the Christian Church and the
Barbarian warbands as morbid affections which only appeared in the body of the Hellenic
Society after its physique had been permanently undermined by the Hannibalic War.”10 At that
point the so-called Barbarians had been unjustly turned into slaves for a degenerating society,
whereas world-denying and hell-threatening Christianity spread exponentially after Constantine
apparently found it useful in reestablishing order and stability. Toynbee thus concluded, “The
Athens of Pericles dwindled to the Athens of St. Paul.”11
When human history is viewed in light of this ancient model of progress, it invites evaluations
not only of mathematical and scientific knowledge but of theological and philosophical systems
as well. For example, Hebraic thought concerning an afterlife degenerated from an emphasis on
social conduct to the promise of an eternal beatitude coupled with the violence-producing
doctrine of martyrdom and resurrection. This doctrine, appearing in the second century BCE
during the descending Iron Age, replaced the Bronze Age emphasis on a moral code not
associated with an eternal heaven for which people must kill and die.
Another example of degeneration in eschatology can be found in India’s doctrines of caste and
rebirth. In ancient India, caste was to be determined by conduct and character, but over time it
came to be determined by birth, promoting an attitude used to justify social oppression. And
while the doctrine of reincarnation had once espoused a progressive spiritual evolution, it
degenerated to the point of supporting the decadent caste system through the reasoning that
upward evolution did not always occur. Consequently, a person born as an uneducated peasant
remained so; kept from studying the Vedas as a result of previous births, the individual was
considered lucky not to have been born as an insect, plant, or demon. Today, freethinking Hindu
scholars are attempting to rectify the caste system in the face of considerable opposition from
those still benefiting from the social privileges it confers.
The Buddha, teaching his fellow ascetics during the descending Iron Age, sought to revitalize
the ancient tradition of yoga, challenge priestly abuses, and offer a universal approach to
self-realization. A few centuries later, Emperor Asoka normalized Buddhism, providing the
masses with an eclectic and accessible dharma, a sociospiritual pattern of conduct. As the Dark
Ages proceeded, Buddhism spread to East Asia, where the Buddha’s message was further
distorted and even contradicted. Now in the West, the Buddha’s yogic technique and ascetic
discipline are often misinterpreted by a consumer culture raised on monotheism, and the
alliance forming between Buddhism and psychology offers followers a path not to universality
but to increased self-absorption in which the effects of psychotherapy are now mistaken for
enlightenment.
In China, the gradual degeneration of Confucianism came to full expression in 213 BCE, when
the Ch’in emperor Shih Huang Ti burned the books of the “hundred schools,” representing
freedom of thought. Soon the past, so revered by Confucius that he had attempted to
reestablish the ancients’ sociophilosophical heritage, was rejected. At this point the humanism
of Confucius could no longer offer a social solution to the endless strife of warring feudal states.
The goodness of human nature propounded by the philosopher Meng-tzu was replaced by
Hsun-tzu’s view of human beings contaminated by violence, selfishness, and materialism. With
this triumph of the Legalists, pragmatic Han Fei-tzu, who valued the state over the individual
and considered even the relationship between parent and child tainted by selfish ambitions, had
instituted a social remedy in strict adherence to laws based on reward and punishment—an
approach still in effect today. Attempts to return to Confucianism during the Han dynasty were
marred by the zealous New Script School which, paralleling the early church’s treatment of
Jesus at about the same time, deified Confucius and produced forgeries of his teachings in
order to procure wealth and power.
Many devolving cultures of the past acknowledged the decline they were undergoing. Early
Chinese writings allude with awe to knowledge of the ancients and its gradual loss; the
Mahabharata of ancient India tells of the powerful technologies and vast knowledge of earlier
Vedic generations; even the ancient Greeks and Hebrews kept alive legends of an earlier
utopian state, as in the stories of Atlantis and Eden. But though these and other ancient cultures
experienced themselves in a declining age, modern historians wisely do not apply the term
“Dark Age” to them, due to their store of knowledge and perhaps because of an embedded
belief that the acquisition of knowledge progresses linearly—a conclusion supported by recent
centuries of rapid scientific advancement. Yet in assessing the advancement of knowledge, the
cycle theory reminds us that we need not separate material knowledge from self-knowledge
since humanity’s awareness extends toward both equally. The widespread ignorance of atomic
matter during the Dark Ages, for instance, paralleled widespread illiteracy, myopia, ignorance,
and war.
Some philosophers, like historians, also apply an expectation of linear advancement to historical
events. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, for one, maintained that Christian monotheism was the
culmination of religious thought. By contrast, the cycle theory considers monotheism and the
exclusivity it promotes as products of an era of intellectual and spiritual degeneration, with
Christianity forming during the darkest period of recent human history. In fact, the cycle theory
goes a step farther, proposing that the loss of scientific and self-knowledge during the
descending Iron Age imprinted humanity with an expectation of linearity that recent scientific
progress has only reinforced.
Ironically, it also appears that along with loss of knowledge, the cycle theory itself degenerated
during the descending Iron Age. Distorted in earlier Indian, Babylonian, and East Asian sources,
inaccurate versions of the theory emerged in the writings of Plato, Virgil, and Shelley. An Iron
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