What is it with people and the number 23? William Burroughs, Genesis P. Orridge, Aleister Crowley, Robert Anton Wilson and a host of other writers, musicians, magicians, and ordinary nut-jobs have been and continue to be obsessed with it – linking it to synchronicity, coincidence, and all sorts of ‘mystical’ stuff. The 23rd day of the month has seen the births and deaths of many famous people, as well as many historically significant events and disasters.

Of course, Robert Anton Wilson is responsible for a lot of this nonsense, God rest his delightfully addled soul. Back in the days when I looked more like Freewheelin’ Franklin than Uncle Fester, we all read Robert Anton Wilson’s The Cosmic Trigger, which describes his descent into a self-induced state resembling paranoid schizophrenia. In this state, he encounters various ‘entities’ and generally embarks on a quest to discover the true secret of the Illuminati which, for some reason, involved the ‘Dog Star’ Sirius and the number 23. Stoners of a particular persuasion have been dining out on this stuff ever since.

Having gone through a similar experience at the age of (you guessed it) 23, I personally wouldn’t wish it on a dog (no, Siriously!) let alone write a book about it all. As I remember, the final chapter of Wilson’s book rather lamely concludes that the whole series of events may or may not have happened within the author’s mind, and that perhaps the number 23 could eventually mean anything you wanted it to.

Gee, Robert, you think?

But why board the cosmic ghost train in search of truth? Here’s a much simpler look at some of the ways in which the number 23 might be significant.

23 and the book of numbers

“All things are numbers” Pythagoras

Numbers form the basis of cosmology in all ancient civilizations. The Babylonian, Greek and Indian mathematician philosophers believed numbers held the secrets of the divine order of the universe. And the big hitters in the cosmic number scene are the first three: 1, 2, 3.

Most origin myths tell a similar story: in the beginning was the big One which split into the world of Duality – dark/light, good/bad, etc. Then along came the number 3. This has various meanings, including synthesis, the divine, the saving grace, the unifier of opposites. The number 3 was seen as the ticket out of the eternal war of duality.

The first two prime numbers, 2 and 3, pretty much sum it all up as far as I’m concerned. Evens and odds. Matter and mystery. Duality and beyond.

Pre-Christian systems have sometimes represented this unique combination of 2 and 3 by the summing them into the number 5. The five-pointed star, or pentagram originated some 4000 years ago in Mesopotamia, possibly as a plot of the transit of Venus. By the time the Pythagoreans seized upon it, the pentagram represented health, harmony and the marriage of the terrestrial and the divine. Since then, almost all western occult and religious traditions have applied meanings to it: five elements, five senses, five wounds of Christ, etc. Sadly, today, it’s commonly (and incorrectly) associated with black magic, partly due to an effective smear campaign by the late medieval Church.

As beautiful and fascinating as the pentagram is, its meanings have become hopelessly confused over time. Moreover, its structure tends to obscure the independent characters of its component numbers 2 and 3. Which brings us to an alternative way of representing the great asymmetric union between the divine and the material.

The number 23.

23 and uncertainty

First let’s have a look at how the church once tried to describe the mystery of all mysteries. By the 15th century a popular way of graphically explaining the mystery of the Holy Trinity was a diagram referred to now as The Shield of the Trinity. It often appeared in illuminated manuscripts or stained glass windows. Here’s an example. The three in one God neatly mapped out for us all to understand.

However, when I look at a design like this, I take from it an overriding message of a universe that has already been ‘sewn up’ – all bases in the divine plan have been covered and nothing can budge. No doubt this was comforting to the medieval mind but, to a modern mind, the effect is quite claustrophobic.

23, on the other hand, symbolises the exact opposite of all this stultifying certainty. It tells the story of an asynchronous universe full of of asymmetries and ambiguities, uncertainties and undiscovered potential.

23 and that wobble in the beat

It’s no accident that march music has such a monstrously unambiguous beat. You can’t help but notice that a lot of preachy rock also does. When you need to hammer home a certainty – be it political or religious – the sound of a hammer is just the thing. Don’t bother dancing to it.

Polyrhythmic music, by contrast, has no such certainty. A lot of west-african polyrhythm involves 2 beats and 3 beats played over the same time span. The effect is delightfully disturbing. There’s a pulse, but so many ways to move to it.

23 is the first twinless prime

A prime number is one which has no factors except itself and 1. Prime numbers are irreducible. There are no end of strange facts about the number 23. For example, the first five prime numbers, 2, 3, 5, 7 and 11 – add up to 23. Which is itself a prime number.

23 is not only a prime number, it is also described by mathematicians as a twinless prime. After 2, the prime numbers begin appearing grouped as pairs, two integers apart. 3,5; 5,7; 11,13; 17,19… until you reach 23.

23 just sits there all by itself. No twin.

23 and our glorious incompleteness

There are 23 pairs of chromosomes in our human cells. Is that significant? I don’t know. But what is significant is what we might possibly do with them. Forget aliens and illuminati and entities from other dimensions. 23 is our number, our symbol – we human beings. 23 represents why we feel so unique. It’s a symbol of both our uncertainties and our potential. We have evolved to where we are, not because of a heaven and earth in complete balance, but because of our lopsidedness, our incompleteness, our imbalance.