The Science Behind the Static: Real Ideas That Shaped Deadwake's World
About a decade ago I founded Canvas Temple Publishing. My original intent was a low-intensity publishing house for game designers with whom I was friends to publish games that were interesting to us, rather than chosen by others. Everything was done via Kickstarter, with the campaign itself determining how the game would be published. This worked well for a while. Then came COVID, which impacted the whole operating model. By the time we got through it, it was clear to me that that iteration of CTP was no longer viable; not just as a business model, but for me personally.
When I shut down the board game operation about three years ago, I knew I wasn't done with CTP, and I had a vague notion of what I wanted to do. At the same time that I was working CTP, I was also peripherally involved in the resurrection of Ares Magazine, with One Small Step publishing. Reading through the slush pile of stories for Ares left me dismayed. I didn't like a lot of the science fiction being submitted; it seemed to lack big ideas, broad sweeps, and grounding is real-world science. The dual pressures of figuring out the future of CTP and that dissatisfaction spurred a new direction for me. Three years ago I didn't just shut down board game publishing, I also started writing. In that time I completed two novels (The Architecture of Unmaking, now available on Amazon, and The Lazarus Gambit, to be released shortly) and I also began work on a science fiction game setting, Deadwake. Deadwake was to be a post-apocalypse horror setting with a twist: no mutants or super powers, no alien invasions; I wanted everything to be grounded in science, even if it was speculative science.
So I created a post-apocalypse where the real enemy was inside your head. A world where technology did not just break society, it broke you. The Feedback Cascade is not random. It is a plausible nightmare drawn from cutting-edge science and philosophy. In Appendix A of Introduction to Deadwake (which you can download for free), I pull back the curtain on these foundations. Today, I am diving deeper into the ideas that inspired the core concepts: the I-Field, Bicameral Regression Syndrome, Cognitive Static, and more. These are not just flavor. They drive the mechanics, from secret Threadlock checks to the Scar and Insight system.
Let us unpack how real theories become a tabletop horror.
At Deadwake's heart is the I-Field: a stable quantum waveform generated by your brain's unique computational matrix. It is you. Your memories, personality, that inner voice. The CRI entangled it with machines for godlike power, until the Cascade shattered billions of them.
This comes from quantum biology, a field that looks at how quantum effects play a role in living things. Quantum physics usually deals with tiny particles, like atoms or light, where things can be in multiple states at once until observed. But scientists have found that these weird quantum rules might help explain big biological processes, like how birds navigate or plants photosynthesize.
One key idea is that consciousness itself might come from quantum activity in the brain. Inside neurons are tiny structures called microtubules. These are like the skeleton of the cell, but some theories suggest they act as quantum computers. Vibrations in these tubes could create waves that collapse into decisions or thoughts. This makes the brain not just a bunch of firing neurons, but a system where quantum uncertainty leads to awareness.
I got hooked on this because it makes consciousness feel fragile. It is not some unbreakable soul. It is a delicate balance of quantum states. Push it too far, and it falls apart. In Deadwake, that is exactly what happens. The I-Field is this quantum pattern holding your self together. When you channel power through a CRI, you risk messing with that entanglement. Overload in the game represents pushing those quantum limits, and Blowback is the collapse that frays your mind. Threadlock tracks how close you are to losing that stability. It turns abstract science into tense gameplay: do you risk your very identity for a win?
This makes every psychic push feel real. You are gambling your identity.
Bicameral Mind: Echoes as Ancient Regression
Echoes are not shambling undead. They are humans regressed via Bicameral Regression Syndrome (BRS). Lose your I-Field, revert to a bicameral state: no inner I, just hallucinatory commands driving primal reactions.
This draws from a theory about how human minds evolved. A paper I wrote, The Bicameral Catalyst, builds on Julian Jaynes's idea of the bicameral mind. Jaynes thought that just a few thousand years ago, people did not have the self-aware inner voice we do today. Instead, their brains were split. One side generated commands heard as voices from gods or ancestors, and the other side obeyed without question or self-reflection.
But in my hypothesis, this bicameral setup was not a recent thing. It was the normal way of thinking for our early ancestors, like Australopithecus, millions of years ago. It was a simple, energy-saving system perfect for basic survival in forests and edges. No need for deep thinking about yourself or planning far ahead. Just react to the world with automatic commands from your brain.
Then came a big change around 2 to 3 million years ago. The climate shifted, turning forests into open savannas. Our ancestors had to adapt. They started cooperative hunting for big game, like antelopes. This was not solo scavenging. It required teamwork: some drive the prey, others ambush it. To make that work, you need to predict what your partners will do. That means imagining their thoughts, and even what they think about your thoughts. This is called Theory of Mind, a recursive loop of social guessing.
The old bicameral mind could not handle that. It was too rigid, with no inner space for simulating others' minds. Groups with this old setup would fail at hunting and starve. So evolution favored a breakdown: the split mind fused into a unified, self-aware one. Now you could reflect on your own thoughts, plan ahead, and model group actions. This sparked brain growth, especially in the front areas for planning and self-awareness. It also led to better communication, evolving into full language.
This shift was rare and costly. Brains got bigger, but they burned more energy. Kids took longer to grow up. Most animals never hit this bottleneck, so they stayed with simpler minds. Humans are unique because of this ancient revolution.
Imagine living without that inner voice. No "I feel hungry, so I will hunt." Just impulses or "voices" pushing you to act, like commands from outside. That is scary because it erases the self that makes choices. In Deadwake, BRS drags you back there. The Static wears down your modern mind, regressing you to that primal mode. Echoes keep basic skills like moving or fighting because those run on autopilot, but they lose the unified self.
In the game, this creates moral dilemmas. An Echo might look like your friend, but inside, they are gone, just reacting to phantom commands. Do you end them, or hold out for a fix? Mechanics like Cohesion erosion lead to thresholds where Flaws appear, then full regression. It is not quick death. It is a slow, terrifying slide into something ancient and alien.
Cognitive Static: Noise, Memes, and Prediction Breakdown
The Static is a planet-wide noise of shredded psyches. Think of it as signal drowned by interference from information theory. Communication needs a clear message (signal) amid random junk (noise). Too much noise, and the message gets lost.
In Deadwake, the Cascade turned human minds into endless noise. Billions of thoughts, screams, and fragments mix into chaos. Your brain tries to make sense of it, but cannot. This ties to how the brain works as a prediction machine. Your mind does not just see the world. It guesses what comes next based on past patterns. Like predicting a ball's path to catch it. The Static floods it with wrong guesses, causing burnout: hallucinations, fear, breakdown.
Add memetics: ideas spread like viruses. A catchy tune or belief jumps minds, replicating. The Static is a storm of these meme fragments. Toxic ideas infect you, twisting thoughts. Factions fight this differently. The Choir embraces the chaos as holy song. The Null Guard wipes memories to stay clean.
Scar and Insight gamify post-traumatic growth. Trauma hurts, but struggling through it builds strength. People who survive disasters often find deeper meaning, better relationships, or new purpose. In game, Scars from failure give Insight to level up. It turns loss into growth, making sessions feel meaningful.
Complex Systems and Cascading Failure
The Cascade was a networked collapse. Complex systems are webs like power grids or economies. They connect tightly for efficiency, but one break can cascade. A tree falls on a line, overloads others, and boom: blackout for millions, like in 2003.
CRIs linked minds globally. One failure (Gorgon) rippled, shattering all. In Deadwake, this makes the world feel interconnected. Faction actions trigger chains: help one, hurt another. Mechanics like Faction Clocks tick toward big events, showing how small choices cascade.
Philosophy of Self: The Fragile I
Deadwake questions what makes you you. Philosophy says it is not a soul, but a chain of connected thoughts, memories, traits. Yesterday's you links to today's via overlapping experiences. Break the chain, and the self ends.
The Static severs this. It erodes memories, corrupts beliefs. Threadlock measures your chain's strength. Cohesion damage frays it bit by bit. The horror is not dying, but ceasing to be you.
Why This Matters for Your Table
These ideas make Deadwake real. ASI zones warp minis turns. Secret stats breed paranoia. Failures build heroes. Deadwake asks: How far will you push before the Static claims your I-Field?
The first three books, which comprise the Introduction (which you can download for free right now), RPG Rules, and Miniature rules will be available both in book form and as PDF download from Canvas Temple Publishing. Right now the intent is to release all three simultaneously early next year.
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