The way we use the word “nothing” in everyday life is quite clear on reflection. “Nothing” means a lack of something particular. When I claim that there is nothing between two individuals standing next to each other at a party, it is generally understood that I mean there is no physical object, save for the air we breathe, between them. The air itself, of course, is something, and the matter that moves between the individuals unnoticed exists just as much as the matter within the individuals themselves[1]. We can remove the matter between them, but such a cruel illustration is hardly necessary for me to elaborate on my point, so I’ll use billiard balls instead, as they’re less distracting and easier to visualize.

We can imagine two billiard balls in the vacuum of space. There is nothing between them, we can say, but when we say this, we mean it in the same sense as the air between the two individuals earlier mentioned. There is no matter between the billiard balls, but there must be space[2] between them, for if there were none, what we recognize as two distinct billiard balls would be occupying the same place in space and time. This we recognize as unacceptable from our most basic empirical observations. What we mean then, when we say there is nothing between the billiard balls is that there is a lack of matter between the billiard balls, or, perhaps, only empty space between them. This is the most extreme example of nothingness that I can think of that has an actual referent.

I can use similar reasoning to explain what I mean when I, or anyone else, make the claim that something does not exist. If I felt so callous as to ruin the day of a six year old, I could tell them that there is, in fact, no such being as the tooth fairy. What I would actually mean, however, is that “tooth-fairy” refers merely to a collection of memes[3] and is not a separate entity independent of those memes. Saying it to a six year old this way would probably get less of a reaction, of course.

All of these examples are hopefully well and good; the first two paragraphs I dare say are unlikely to provoke any controversy, with the third getting some suspicion from those who believe in possible worlds. As opposed to everyday circumstances, however, philosophers tend to wrestle with ideas that are much more abstract, and often get themselves tangled up. A common example of this is the popular claim that “nothing comes from nothing,” a phrase I have been hearing more and more as of late from people who believe they understand metaphysical and/or theological arguments. What those making such a claim fail to recognize, as, to be fair, many in the past have as well, is that the word “nothing” in this claim is not being used in the same everyday sense as I outlined earlier. We’re no longer talking about the lack of something particular, but the lack of existence.

Of course, if nothingness did, in fact, refer in the manner we seem to assume it does, the claim “nothing comes from nothing” would hardly be self-evident. We make observations, formulate hypotheses, and do proofs all within space and time, and, as existing beings, we hardly would have any authority on the nature of nothingness. That is, of course, if nothingness had any nature or referent at all, which it does not. In discussing cosmological issues, we’re trying to use the word in a way which we simply cannot. The universe is, and always, regardless of the metaphysical nature of time, has been. There is no point in space or time in which the universe stops existing because the alternative is nothing, and by definition nonexistent. There is only what exists, and, as such, we would more properly discuss not what is and is not, but, rather, the way in which things are. “Why is the universe like this?” is a coherent question, “why does the universe exist?” is not, as we are bound to existence. When someone asks me if I believe the universe came from nothing, or if I believe that there is nothing beyond the universe, I cannot offer a response because the question is nonsensical. We can’t talk about nothingness; it doesn’t refer to anything.