To create randomness, we rely on frameworks from which seemingly random actions can occur. We all have used these systematic frameworks of randomness before: Anytime we open a domain on a web browser starting with „https“, the encryption technology that secures our connection, uses a certain type of randomness.

Because computers are – just like the human minds that created them – deterministic by definition, the only way to produce random datasets digitally is by taking an input from the outside, physical world. This could be by observing a users behaviour of pressing certain keys or clicks, recording white noise, or in the most advanced cases, quantum randomness, which is measuring the rate of decay in certain atoms.

When I found out about this I couldn’t help but wonder: How can we make assumptions about the behaviour of these atoms being inherently non-deterministic, only because we fail to understand them yet? 

Randomness appears to be subjective: we are dismissing any possible context, just for the fact that we don’t know. Thus, what we consider to be random, is deeply tied to how we look at the world. In a series of different methodical examinations, I tried to materialise my position about the political implications of randomness, and rebuilt the context that was dismissed by claiming something was “just random”.

To honor the atom that dies for our randomness, I created a multimedia funeral for it. Within quantum computation, Bits no longer need to be either 1 or 0, they are instead defined by the spectrum between the two, allowing for flexibility and fluidity, but also increasing complexity. That is also why, accordingly with quantum theory, the atom inside urn can no longer considered dead or alive. It is neither and both at the same time – as long as the urn remains closed. The core question these investigations is of political nature:

Do we want to make sense of our world by defining it through binaries? Or can we be more open towards the idea of complexity as a system of spectral relations?