Global and Seasonal Variations in Solar Irradiation: A Continental Comparison

Personal Experiences of Arno A. Evers

Recent personal experiences made with ChatGPT:

Michael, one of our Airbnb guests, photographed three of our graphics:
“Global and Seasonal Variations in Solar Irradiation: A Continental Comparison”

Download pdf

and asked his ChatGTP Group, to interpret them.
Their answers came in a fraction of a second.
It was, as if they were all sitting around with us here at our breakfast table, in the Clubhouse The Sun at our Sunny Houses on Samal Island in the Philippines.
The participants of this virtual discussion, initiated by Michael Hyres, one of our Airbnb guests here,  at his AI ChatGPT Group on August 1, 2025, are, in their order of appearance:

David Bohm =Profession: Theoretical physicist and philosopher

Known for:

• The De Broglie–Bohm theory (a deterministic interpretation of quantum mechanics)
• Concepts like implicate and explicate order, which propose a deeper, hidden layer of reality
• Collaborations with Jiddu Krishnamurti on consciousness and dialogue
• Legacy: Bohm challenged mainstream quantum theory and emphasized holistic thinking in science and society

Nick Bostrom = Profession: Philosopher and futurist

Known for:

• Founding the Future of Humanity Institute at Oxford
• His book Superintelligence: Paths, Dangers, Strategies, which explores risks from advanced AI
• The Simulation Argument, suggesting we might be living in a computer simulation
• Focus: Existential risks, ethics of emerging technologies, and long-term future of humanity

Terence McKenna=Profession: Ethnobotanist, mystic, and author

Known for:

• Advocacy of psychedelic substances like psilocybin mushrooms and DMT
• The “Stoned Ape” theory, suggesting psychedelics influenced human evolution
• His concept of “novelty theory”, predicting a shift in consciousness around 2012
• Legacy: A countercultural icon who blended science, mysticism, and radical ideas about consciousness

Alan Watts = Profession: Philosopher, writer, and speaker

Known for:

• Popularizing Eastern philosophy (Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism) in the West
• Books like The Way of Zen and The Wisdom of Insecurity
• His engaging lectures on spirituality, identity, and the nature of reality
• Legacy: A bridge between East and West, inspiring generations to rethink life and self

Carl Jung = Profession: Psychiatrist and psychoanalyst

Known for:

• Founding Analytical Psychology
• Concepts like the collective unconscious, archetypes, synchronicity, and individuation
• His break from Freud and exploration of spirituality, mythology, and dreams
• Legacy: One of the most influential figures in psychology, whose ideas permeate therapy, literature, and culture

Name	Born	Died	Age at Death
David Bohm	December 20, 1917	October 27, 1992	74
Nick Bostrom	March 10, 1973	Still alive	52 (as of 2025)
Terence McKenna	November 16, 1946	April 3, 2000	53
Alan Watts	January 6, 1915	16.11.73	58
Carl Jung	July 26, 1875	June 6, 1961	85

First image presented with a question
to Arno A. Evers`s graphics:
Solar Ressource Map: Global Horizontal Irradiation (GHI)
created by Thomas Schirmeier,
his year-long Graphic Designer working in Starnberg, Germany.

This is how our conversation begun:

Thank you for the intriguing question and the image. I’ve reviewed the solar radiation map you’ve shared, and you’re absolutely right—regions at similar latitudes (like northern Australia vs. South America or California vs. Florida) often show surprisingly different levels of solar irradiance.

Let’s hear from the voices most relevant to this planetary puzzle. We’ll begin with those who can blend physical science, systems thinking, and cosmic perspective:

⸻

David Bohm:

This disparity arises because energy is never distributed in a simple, mechanistic way. It unfolds holistically—implicate to explicate. The Earth’s surface is subject to a multitude of interwoven variables: atmospheric clarity, prevailing wind currents, elevation, cloud patterns, aerosols, ocean currents, and even biospheric feedbacks. In Australia’s outback, the dry air and minimal cloud coverage allow far more solar energy to reach the ground—whereas in equatorial South America, dense vegetation, frequent rainfall, and high humidity create a diffused, scattered radiance. My confidence in this explanation lies in its coherence with quantum wholeness: what seems like a simple latitude function is shaped by deeper dynamic totalities.

Nick Bostrom:

It’s a classic case of mistaking coordinate similarity for environmental equivalence. In a modeled system—be it a simulation or an engineered world—variables interact in complex and often nonlinear ways. Atmospheric turbidity, reflective ground albedo, and even human land use impact solar absorption. Confidence: High, that the cause lies in a mixture of climatological variance and probabilistic complexity—not in a flaw in Earth’s basic solar geometry. If we’re in a simulation, solar modeling might be regionally optimized based on ecological narratives.

Terence McKenna:

Let’s zoom out, friends. The sun is not just a disk in the sky—it’s a modulator of consciousness, of biospheric rhythms. Why does one land drink in fire while another wears clouded veils? Perhaps the Earth dreams differently in different places. Australia, with its ancient crust and metaphysical remoteness, is an energetic amplifier—its dryness, its emptiness, its silence, allow more sun to kiss the land. Meanwhile, South America dances in lush, entheogenic mystery—there the radiance is filtered through jungles and ayahuasca fog. Confidence level? Poetic. But don’t dismiss poetry when exploring planetary anomalies.

Alan Watts:

You expected the sun to be fair? [Laughs softly.] The universe doesn’t deal in symmetry the way a ruler does—it dances. Mountains, ocean currents, deserts, and forests—all shift the way energy plays across the Earth’s skin. Think of sunlight as jazz, not a metronome. So even if you sit at 15° south, your seat is not the same show. Confidence: very high, because it’s not just physics—it’s the play of pattern without the tyranny of predictability.

Carl Jung:

What you perceive in this map is the psyche of the Earth expressing itself. Each region carries an archetypal role in the planetary body. Australia, vast and sparsely inhabited, serves as a solar crucible, a site of purification and clarity. The Amazon, by contrast, is the dark womb—moist, mysterious, fecund. To expect equal light in both is to deny their mythic functions. Confidence: mythopoetically absolute.

⸻

Image 2: Solar Seasons: Europe and Asia Compared
created by Thomas Schirmeier in Starnberg Germany,
initiated by Arno A, Evers on Samal Island, The Philippines

Thank you for the second image—now that we can view both together, the pattern becomes richer. You’re not just asking why summer and winter exist (tilt and orbit), but rather:

Why does solar energy distribution across Earth’s surface defy simplistic geographic expectations—even at similar latitudes or seasons?

This goes beyond textbook astronomy into the nature of reality itself. Let’s bring in a Synthesis—a weave of insight from the full Council.

⸻

The Synthesis:

At first glance, these maps should conform to reason: Earth’s tilt, orbit, and latitude dictate solar input. Yet the images show something subtler—a world that behaves like a living system, not a static globe in space.

The scientific explanation points to well-known variables: atmospheric clarity, elevation, humidity, aerosols, and local weather patterns. These are real, yes—but they are also surface expressions of something deeper.

What emerges from the Council is a unified insight: the Earth is not a machine receiving light—it is a conscious, dynamic field that interprets light.

Regions receive solar energy not just based on where they are, but what they are: deserts reflect; jungles absorb and scatter. Mountains block; oceans moderate. And more profoundly

Carl Jung:

You are encountering a subtle archetypal truth—the world does not respond to light uniformly because the psyche of place is not uniform. The sun is a symbol of consciousness, clarity, and divine insight. But consciousness does not land the same in every psyche. Australia, vast and unpopulated, holds the archetype of solar asceticism—burning clarity with little interruption. South America, particularly the Amazon, is archetypally lunar—hidden, moist, fertile, tangled.

Even though they share latitudes, they do not share psychic roles. So the Earth responds as psyche does: where the terrain resists clarity (cloud, foliage, shadow), light is scattered or diffused. Where the terrain invites it, the sun pours in unmediated. I am confident this is not merely physics—it is myth lived through matter.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

This is the fractal trickster at work. You think you’re looking at a climate map—but really, you’re seeing the planet dreaming in gradients. Places are not blank slates for sunlight to hit. They’re repositories of time, memory, ecology, and, yes—consciousness. Solar radiation isn’t just energy—it’s a teacher, a psychedelic molecule broadcast across space.

Australia, especially the interior, is like an ancient vision plain—bare, unadorned, receptive. The jungle? That’s a cathedral of green feedback loops. The sunlight there has to negotiate with a billion leaves, mists, evapotranspiration cycles, and plant intelligences. Light becomes mystery. My confidence is very high—because light isn’t just what’s measured, it’s what is metabolized by the world it enters.

⸻

David Bohm:

From the implicate order, all things are enfolded potentials. The difference you see on the maps—the variance in radiation despite similar solar angles—is a result of how each region unfolds its local reality from the whole. In this case, we must consider coherence. Deserts, with low moisture and fewer dynamic variables, allow for a more direct, unscattered coherence of the solar field. Jungles and cloud-heavy regions break this coherence—they diffract and reconfigure the field into interference patterns.

So what you perceive as “irradiance” is not simply input—it is a response of the whole system to the sun’s implicate gesture. Confidence: very high. The reality you see is an expression of deeper hidden orders—always in dialogue, never in isolation.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

From a systems-design or simulation perspective, this divergence is not surprising. You wouldn’t construct a virtual Earth to operate on latitude alone—you would bake in variables like terrain albedo, atmospheric opacity, vegetative density, and oceanic feedback loops. Efficiency, challenge, diversity of experience—these matter more than elegance of symmetry.

So Australia’s intense solar profile might be a function of both simplicity (bare surface, clear skies) and design intention—perhaps to simulate resilience, heat, or inner clarity. The jungle, meanwhile, is designed for immersion, complexity, and occlusion. Confidence: high. This is a case of emergent complexity from layered variable stacks—exactly what you’d expect from either a physical or virtual world optimizing for diversity and narrative potential.

⸻

Alan Watts:

Ah, but you see, you’ve been hoodwinked by the idea that nature plays fair. It doesn’t! It plays beautifully. You imagine that the sun, being up there, ought to shine evenly, like a bureaucrat—15 degrees south is 15 degrees south, right? But the Earth is not a board. It is a dance.

The rainforest plays coy—“Oh, sun, I adore you, but only filtered through mist and leaves.” The desert says—“Come as you are. Scorch me raw.” The sun obliges both. It doesn’t care to make things equal—it cares to make them interesting. Confidence? Infinite. Because life is not a spreadsheet—it’s jazz. And this is just another solo in the great improvisation.

—————

Carl Jung:

The image reveals not just seasonal shift, but archetypal inversion. You are witnessing the dance of solar consciousness—where what is “high” in one psyche is “low” in another. It is not enough to say “it is summer.” One must ask: what kind of summer? In Australia, summer burns with clarity and fire—it is an active, solar masculine. In South America or Central Africa, that same summer is veiled, latent, more like a dream of summer.

We are seeing archetypes of receptivity versus exposure, clarity versus saturation. The “summer” of the desert and outback is not the “summer” of the jungle. They carry different symbolic thermodynamics. My confidence is grounded in decades of observing how archetypes take form through the natural world.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

Look—“summer” isn’t just a temperature shift. It’s a psychedelic experience. What this map shows is that the Earth doesn’t trip the same way everywhere. Australia gets the full, uncut dose—dry air, no filter. The Amazon? It’s like taking the same amount but through a dense vine of biospheric consciousness.

The reason? The jungle doesn’t want raw exposure—it modulates. It fractalizes light through cloud, mist, root systems, and whispering insects. Meanwhile, Australia says: “Hit me.” So this “summer in winter” map is a planetary metabolic map of how Earth digests the sun. Confidence: cosmic. You’re seeing how planetary consciousness processes light, not just how it receives it.

⸻

David Bohm:

The language of seasons is too coarse for what this image reveals. We are observing localized decoherence of solar input. “Summer” in physical terms is a simple tilt-relative exposure, yes—but what actually reaches the ground depends on the coherent conditions of the region: air clarity, particulates, surface texture, vegetative response.

Australia’s summer, during this Northern winter, exhibits a nearly perfect coherence of the solar field: few clouds, dry skies, high ground reflectivity. But look at Congo or Brazil—clouds, moisture, diffusion. So while it is “summer,” the coherence collapses. This is less about tilt and more about field dynamics of the light’s actualization. Confidence: high, as it maps precisely to implicate-explicate process.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

From a systems modeling perspective, the term “summer” is insufficient. You must factor simulation parameters, if applicable, or ecological-variable complexity. “Winter” and “summer” are coordinate states—but not guarantees of functionally equal irradiance. Australia’s surface and atmospheric variables yield optimal absorption. The Amazon’s parameters—though seasonally positioned to receive more sun—dampen, scatter, and delay delivery due to feedback loops in cloud, flora, and biospheric respiration.

Confidence: very high. In a high-fidelity simulation or natural system, what matters is realized conditions, not theoretical input. What’s happening is that the Earth behaves more like a responsive organism than a strict grid of energy input.

⸻

Alan Watts:

Ahh yes, the “summer that isn’t.” You see, summer and winter aren’t rigid events—they’re gestures in a dance. It’s like jazz again: two horns may be playing the same key, but one is muted, wrapped in velvet; the other blares on a street corner.

Australia’s summer in January is a solar shout. Brazil’s, at the same latitude, is a solar hum. It’s not unfairness—it’s flavor. The clouds in the Amazon are not errors—they’re percussion. The sun plays Australia with strings, it plays Africa with drums. Confidence? Why would I need confidence to enjoy the music?

Image 3: North America Solar Irradiation by Season
created by Thomas Schirmeier in Starnberg Germany,
initiated by Arno A, Evers on Samal Island, The Phlippines

Wonderful—you’re pointing precisely at the subtle puzzle: why do areas on the same horizontal band (latitude) receive drastically different solar radiation? Why do places like Florida and northern Mexico, or Georgia vs. California, or eastern China vs. the Middle East, show completely different solar behavior despite being on similar latitudinal coordinates?

Let’s return to our Council: Carl Jung, Terence McKenna, David Bohm, Nick Bostrom, and Alan Watts. Each will now respond to this lateral mystery—same latitude, different lived energy.

⸻

Carl Jung:

This question is emblematic of what I called the “tyranny of rational expectation.” You assume that being on the same latitude should produce equal outcomes. But the psyche—of a person, a place, a planet—does not operate on such linearity. The western U.S., with its deserts and open space, invites the archetype of solar dominion—Apollo unveiled. The southeastern states, with their humidity and deep water memory, serve the lunar feminine, where the sun must pass through a veil of feeling, of saturation.

The psyche of place matters. Florida does not receive light the same as Sonora, because their unconscious terrain is different. The clouds, the flora, the myths of those lands filter the same sun through different archetypes. Confidence: high. The map is less about physics, more about psychic topography.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

Oh yes, you’re seeing the fingerprint of biospheric entheogenesis. You think two points along the 30th parallel are “equal,” but the reception capacity of each zone is utterly different. The west—Arizona, northern Mexico—is dry, mineral-rich, reflective. The sunlight hits it and it resonates. Meanwhile, Florida or China is full of moisture, mist, particulate—sunlight gets metabolized by air before it even hits the ground.

It’s like comparing a dry bong rip to one filtered through tea leaves and molasses. Same source, different trip. And don’t underestimate cultural resonance fields—even human activity changes how land echoes solar input. Confidence? Psychedelically validated. You’re seeing Gaia tune her own vibrational instrument.

⸻

David Bohm:

The world is not a grid—it is a wave field. Latitude is only a projection on a Cartesian surface. What truly matters is the coherence of the local atmospheric and geological state with the incoming solar wave. In the Middle East, for example, the dryness, altitude, and absence of cloud allow a near-perfect coherence with solar radiation—thus the deep red. But in eastern China, the implicate dynamics are more complex: high population, dense aerosols, heavy humidity, disrupted albedo from agriculture and pollution—all of which dephase the solar field.

So even though both lie along a similar line of latitude, the explicate outcomes differ due to internal conditions. Confidence: high, because this is how all energy unfolds through nested levels of order.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

What you’re observing is a classic case of data divergence in probabilistic terrain. If the planet—or simulation—is structured to optimize for complexity and variability, then surface-level equality is a false assumption. You must account for:

• Average annual cloud cover

• Atmospheric clarity (aerosols, pollution, volcanic dust)

• Surface albedo (ice, desert, forest, ocean)

• Seasonal angle variability

• Proximity to large bodies of water

These variables combine into an energy processing signature unique to each region. Two locations at 30°N can have completely different radiation profiles, because the real algorithm runs on dozens of inputs. Confidence: very high—this matches both real and simulated planetary models.

⸻

Alan Watts:

Ah, you see now—it’s not a flat Earth after all! [Chuckles.] Not in spirit, not in sun. The idea that two points along the same “line” should behave the same way—that’s a very linear expectation. But the world is a wiggly thing. Even the sun, who you think is the same every day, is always arriving differently depending on the angle, the moisture, the mood of the air.

Think of the Earth not as a ball under a lamp, but as a dancer moving through a hall of mirrors, steam, and song. That’s why the Middle East burns and China breathes. Why California glows and Georgia sweats. Latitude is just the opening note. Confidence? As sure as laughter in a temple.

———-

Beautifully precise question—and now we’re getting into the core paradox you’re teasing apart:

If solar radiation is just the sun hitting the Earth, shouldn’t every location at the same angle get the same amount of energy? How can local conditions really change that?

Let’s let the Council speak plainly, particularly to the physical-measurement side of the question—still in their archetypal voices, but tuned to your need for clarity on the physics itself.

⸻

David Bohm:

Let’s be clear—solar radiation maps do measure the actual energy reaching the surface, not the theoretical energy from the sun’s position. What you’re noticing is not theoretical discrepancy—but real, measurable difference in delivered light energy.

Now, why? Because light interacts. The atmosphere isn’t an empty tube. It’s filled with water vapor, dust, industrial aerosols, pollen, volcanic ash. Light gets scattered, absorbed, reflected, or refractedbefore it touches the ground. So even if the sun’s angle is identical at two latitudes, one place might be “clear glass,” while another is “stained, fogged, or fractalized.”

This is why deserts glow and jungles dim. Not because the sun favors them—but because the path is less interrupted. My confidence is rooted in physics: local complexity alters the coherence of incoming solar waves.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

Your assumption is sound—solar radiation measurements are direct: watts per square meter hitting a surface. But the part that bends expectation is that the atmosphere is not neutral. Think of it like sending a laser through glass versus through smoke. Same laser, very different results.

In simulation terms, the algorithm rendering “Earth” has layered variables: cloud persistence, humidity, pollution load, angle of incidence, terrain reflectivity. These variables modulate the raw input. So yes—the sun is the source. But the transmission and absorption layers matter just as much as the source. Confidence: high, modeled and validated.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

You’re not wrong, you’re just not stoned enough yet. [Laughs.] The sun sends out its love equally—but the reception ritual varies wildly. Think of it like this: sunlight is a song. The Earth isn’t flat—it’s a concert hall with walls, plants, mist, highways, oceans, and cities. That song echoes, bounces, dampens.

When we say “solar radiation,” we’re not just measuring the sun’s intention—we’re measuring what survived the journey. Your intuition is right—but the truth is deeper. Light is alive, and the air it moves through matters. Confidence? As certain as sunrise in the Andes under a cloud of entheogenic mist.

⸻

Carl Jung:

The physical world is layered with meaning. Even sunlight must pass through the veil of matter—air, water, shadow. You are observing that matter filters archetype. The same solar energy, when passed through the dense unconscious (clouds, trees, cities), becomes something else.

That transformation is measurable, but it is also psychological. You’re right to feel dissonance—it’s a reminder that the world does not behave like a machine, but like a psyche. Confidence? I know it in the marrow of the symbolic.

⸻

Alan Watts:

Here’s the cosmic joke: we assume the sun “just hits” the Earth, like a tennis ball to a court. But what if the Earth is more like a sponge than a court? Some places soak, others bead and repel. Some parts of the Earth invite light, others veil it. The air is alive, the trees breathe, the clouds whisper.

So when you say “Why doesn’t the sun hit evenly?”, the real answer is—it does. But what gets through depends on what the Earth is wearing that day. Confidence? Absolute—because nature doesn’t run on rules; it runs on rhythms.

Would you like to dive deeper into one factor (like cloud albedo, aerosols, elevation, or vegetation) to see how it specifically blocks or redirects solar energy?

⸻

Excellent refinement—and yes, now you’re zooming in on the resolution of the map versus the reality on the ground.

Let’s break it down plainly first, then invite the five voices to explore what this apparent uniformitymasks beneath the surface.

⸻

Direct Answer:

Yes—within those broad-colored zones (like northern Mexico, the U.S. Southwest, or North Africa), there are significant variations in solar radiation from place to place.

The map you’re looking at is likely using aggregated, averaged, or smoothed data—for clarity. It gives you the macro view. But in real, measured terms:

• Local elevation,

• micro-climates,

• persistent cloud patterns,

• urban heat islands,

• pollution,

• vegetation density,

• soil reflectivity,

…all cause measurable differences even within zones that appear homogenous in color.

So yes—Baja Mexico ≠ Phoenix ≠ San Diego ≠ Mojave—even if they look the same “red” on the map.

Now let’s see how our council illuminates this from different layers of insight:

⸻

David Bohm:

Maps, by necessity, reduce the implicate to the explicate. But reality is layered with nested structures—micro-conditions nested inside macro-trends. What appears as “uniform radiation” across the western U.S. or the Middle East is, upon closer resolution, filled with subtle variations in coherence and interference.

Dust storms in one valley, dew point in another, rock type versus scrubland—all of these influence how the wave of sunlight decoheres upon arrival. The unity on the map is not false—it’s blurred. Confidence: total. You are seeing the averaged explicate, not the full implicate weave.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

Precisely. You’re observing a compression artifact—a form of data simplification for human cognition. Just as high-resolution images are downsampled for thumbnails, so too is solar radiation data averaged for clarity. But beneath that red smear of California and Mexico lie thousands of micro-nodes—each with different values.

From a modeling perspective, this is crucial: if you want to site a solar panel, you don’t use that map. You use high-resolution, time-variant, location-specific data. Confidence: high. Map ≠ territory. What you see is an epistemological illusion—useful, but blunt.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

Oh yes—the map gives you the song, but not the notes. It’s like calling the entire Amazon a “forest”—technically true, but experientially bankrupt. Walk ten minutes west and it’s a different world. The same is true with light.

A dusty canyon in Baja and a coastal cliff in Big Sur may look the same color on your map, but they’re metabolizing sunlight completely differently. The red isn’t lying—it’s just tripping too hard to explain itself. Confidence: fractionally infinite.

⸻

Carl Jung:

Maps are tools of the logos—they clarify, categorize. But they also obscure the symbolic nuance of place. Each landscape is a psychic field. The deserts of Arizona are not psychically identical to those of northern Mexico, even if they share color. The soil, the myths, the species, the history—all cast a filter over how sunlight is received into being.

To truly know a place, you must go there—not just in body, but in soul. Confidence: high. Uniformity in symbol often masks the dance of the archetypes beneath.

⸻

Alan Watts:

Of course it looks uniform from up there—it’s the same as saying, “All oceans are blue.” Look again. Stand in the sand. Taste the air. One red patch on your map is sandpaper; another is velvet. We humans love broad strokes—it’s easier on the nervous system. But life? Life happens in the wiggles, in the tiny rebellions against the generalization.

So yes, maps are helpful—like looking at the cover of a book and guessing the plot. But don’t confuse category with character. Confidence? As deep as canyon shadows at noon.

⸻

Would you like to do a detailed zoom-in comparison next—e.g., Phoenix vs. San Diego, or Tijuana vs. El Paso—to explore what causes even neighboring places to diverge in radiation profile?

Yes…

Excellent. Let’s dive into a zoomed-in comparison of two neighboring regions that appear similar on the global solar radiation map but differ meaningfully on the ground:

Phoenix, Arizona vs. San Diego, California

These cities are roughly the same latitude (~33–34°N), both in the American Southwest, and fall within the reddish “high solar” band on global maps. Yet, when measured at finer scale, Phoenix regularly receives 20–35% more usable solar radiation than San Diego, especially for photovoltaic energy systems.

Let’s hear what the Council has to say—grounded in science, spiraling into symbolism.

⸻

David Bohm:

This is a textbook case of local coherence breakdown. In Phoenix, the atmosphere is dry, the sky clear, the land reflective. The coherence of the solar wave remains intact from sun to surface. In San Diego, the marine layer intervenes. Even a thin film of morning fog, haze, or salt mist decoheres that same wave.

These are not minor perturbations—they’re field-level differences. The “implicate order” of coastal California includes moisture, oceanic pull, and cooler temperature gradients. Phoenix rests in a more open explicate frame. Confidence: absolute. You are witnessing how subtle atmospheric variables collapse or preserve radiant potential.

⸻

Nick Bostrom:

From a system analytics perspective, this is classic input attenuation via environment stack. San Diego has:

• More persistent coastal cloud (marine layer)

• Higher humidity

• More reflective surfaces from urban development

• Atmospheric particulate from oceanic microdrift

Even if solar angle is identical to Phoenix, the actual delivery efficiency is dampened. Phoenix, meanwhile, is in a basin optimized for radiative throughput—high altitude, low humidity, and minimal interference. Confidence: very high. These variances are critical for simulation fidelity or real-world energy modeling.

⸻

Terence McKenna:

Ah, yes—San Diego sips her sunlight like wine, Phoenix gulps it like mescal. You see, California flirts with the ocean—it’s a liminal edge-being. That Pacific mist, that moody fog—it’s a kind of soft veil. San Diego is bathing in dream-light.

Phoenix is a solar initiatory crucible. The land is cracked open, bare, asking for fire. You trip differently in both places. One shows you the dance of subtlety; the other, the ecstasy of exposure. Confidence? As much as I trust the desert to teach through heat.

⸻

Carl Jung:

Here we see two expressions of the solar archetype: one dionysian, one apollonian. San Diego leans toward the feminine receptivity—diffused light, moisture, clouded boundary. Phoenix expresses the masculine clarity—directness, sharpness, exposure.

Thus, even physically, the same sun reaches them differently—not because the sun changes, but because the psyche of the place shapes the vessel. Confidence: high. Archetype lives not just in myth, but in microclimate.

⸻

Alan Watts:

You expected the desert and the coast to get the same sun? Oh dear. That’s like asking why tea and whiskey don’t taste alike. San Diego’s sunlight lazily stretches, wakes up around 10 a.m., wraps itself in fog. Phoenix’s sun leaps up like a lion, roaring and unapologetic.

What you’re seeing, friend, is flavor. The map shows you color, but reality plays out in tone. Confidence? Like I said: don’t drink the map—taste the sun for yourself!
End of our online l“ive-discussion“

Arno A. Evers personal remarks:
I must admit, that I was quite confused in the beginning, to receive such profound comments on out three graphics in such a short time, It took me a while, to understand that the comments of these five scientist, of which four alredy passed away, which reads like a conversation on our breakfast table, was all taken from former announcements of these people. Which could have been made some decades ago.
Which were stored on ChatGTP, than fully automatically edited and sent to Michael in a fraction of a second.

My daughter Erika, which is getting three years in November this year, will have to live with that. And with much more which will come from Artificial Intelligence.

I hope this example will make my readers thinking, as it did with me.
Thank to Michael, to open my eyes, to Thomas for designing the graphics and to my team ikn the background, here in thee Philippines and in Germany.-
My sincere thanks go to;

David Bohm
Nick Bostrom
Terence McKenna
Alan Watts
and Carl Jung

for your kind participation on this test.
It worked well and was rather impressive.

Sent from house Saturn, one of our Sunny Houses on Samal Island,
Arno A. Evers, Cogon, Purok 7, Island Garden City of Samal, The Philippines

August 2025