Human civilisation did not leap forward through brute strength, nor through tribal dominance. It advanced because the written word arrived. When early humans learnt to scribe language, knowledge ceased to be fleeting. Ethics, governance, warfare, therapeutic wisdom and social order — all became transmissible across generations. History itself began with writing. But quietly, almost without fanfare, another invention proved far more revolutionary: the number system. Although the evolution of numerical thinking remains obscure, the explicit appearance of zero in the Vedic tradition is a recognised intellectual milestone. With zero as the fulcrum, the human mind built the towering architecture of mathematics. Algebra, physics, chemistry and computation — all owe their origin to this single conceptual breakthrough.

Over centuries, mathematical knowledge yielded quantum physics and quantum mechanics, and thereafter a torrent of discoveries. From weaponry to aviation, from industrial engineering to information technology, the world was transformed. Today’s artificial intelligence is merely the latest offspring of this long evolution of numbers. Yet, the point of this reflection is not to lament artificial intelligence or fear technological progress. The deeper question is this: if numbers and numerical symbols possess such extraordinary capacity to unlock the outer universe, could words and syllables possess a parallel power to unlock the inner universe?

Mathematics captures energies of matter. Theology — especially through liturgical chanting — seeks to harness energies of consciousness. Across ancient cultures, sacred syllables were never intended as superstition. They constituted a technology of the psyche. Their rhythms and vibrations bypass logic and directly engage the deeper strata of mental and physiological functioning. The effects are not theoretical: clarity, tranquillity, resilience and emotional balance are widely observed outcomes of conscious chanting.

If quantum physics captures photons to empower machines, liturgical syllables aim to capture the light particles of consciousness within living beings. Every soul — and one need not define the word religiously — stores the energies that enable thought, action, memory and motion. When these energies synchronise, the human experience becomes joyous and purposeful. When disrupted, the inevitable result is anxiety, negativity and distress. Liturgical chanting acts as a filter. It reduces the infiltration of psychological “viruses” — fear, resentment, anger, addiction, despair — that clog the pathways through which prana, or life-energy, sustains human vitality. When these blockages ease, harmony between the body, mind and spirit re-emerges.

Across geographies, sacred syllables may differ in script, but their intent remains strikingly uniform: to upgrade the internal software of the soul-being. In that light, branding them as irrational relics of superstition is intellectually lazy. If the scientific temperament demands evidence and inquiry, then it must also allow for the possibility that sound can heal, elevate and transform consciousness. With numbers we built machines. With engineered sound, civilisations once attempted to build better humans. In the long sweep of history, both traditions — modern science and ancient metaphysics — have their logic. Both seek mastery over energy. One examines the outer cosmos; the other the inner one.

The scriptures of Kriya Yoga use the metaphor of the golden lotus — the perfection of the “software” of the jiva-atman, the individual consciousness. Each lifetime offers an opportunity to refine this software, to rise above psychic viruses and return to the stillness of origin. It is, in essence, a path to completion. 

If artificial intelligence seeks to create perfect machines, ancient sound-based traditions sought to create perfect human beings. One governs technology; the other liberates the self. The future may not lie in choosing one over the other, but in the recognition that civilisation needs both.

Mathematics gave us power. Meaningful sound may yet give us peace.