This space gathers the main conceptual developments of the Ontology of Emergent Complexity, focusing on the fundamental theoretical formulations. Each entry organizes an inaugural philosophical gesture.
Professor, researcher, and author of the Ontology of Emergent Complexity. Founder of the Traversal project.
Beyond theoretical rigor, David Cota is distinguished by a philosophical writing that refuses concessions to academicism, the spectacle of opinion, and the authority of tradition. His work is guided by an ethics of form: every word must carry symbolic weight, every sentence must operate as a real reorganization of meaning. There is no room for empty ornament, nor for technicality disconnected from the living matter of thought. Instead of seeking institutional recognition, David Cota builds an underground philosophy — without a central subject, without fixed doctrine, without the promise of redemption. His proposal is neither explanatory nor salvific: it is an invitation to inhabit incompleteness, to think from risk, and to construct meaning where there are no longer guarantees.
Thinking, today, is no longer natural. It no longer happens out of necessity. It no longer arises from wonder, nor from listening. Thinking has become the exception. A luxury. An almost suspicious deviation.
We live in a world that prefers the answer to the question, identity to doubt, speed to hesitation. We are taught to function — not to think. To express opinion — not to sustain an unease. And little by little, without noise, thought has been replaced by performance, by automatism, by noise with the appearance of knowledge.
But thinking still can. There are still those who feel that something doesn't fit. That time is out of sync. That the avalanche of content does not answer what truly matters. That, perhaps, thought should not serve to win debates, but to inhabit the world with more presence. Not to produce certainties — but to open zones of gravity where the real can be listened to.
The Ontology of Emergent Complexity is born from this void. Not as a school, nor as a system. But as a question that insists. As a forgotten gesture. As a way of thinking that is not afraid to take time, to err, to not know.
It is not a philosophy made to convince. It is a form of presence. A way to refuse the noise and to relearn how to listen. To abandon the illusion of control and enter the world as one who shares it — not as one who dominates it.
Here, thinking is not about memorizing ideas or mastering concepts. It is accepting that there are zones of the real that only reveal themselves to those who slow down. To those who do not seek to be right, but to sustain meaning.
This is the invitation:
Do not think to produce. Do not think to win.
Think to feel the weight of the world.
Think so that the world can still happen with you inside.
The Ontology of Emergent Complexity proposes a new way of understanding thought, the body, the symbol, and transformation. In this theoretical space, each philosophical entry is more than a concept: it is a symbolic gesture of reconfiguring the real.
Here, the symbol does not represent — it acts. It is born when matter organizes itself to signify, even without a subject, even without intention. It is the minimal fold that transforms noise into meaning, the body into language, time into event.
Many seek answers on Wikipedia, Google, or in classic philosophy manuals. But what we propose is something else: a living theory, which thinks the real from its instability — not as an error to be corrected, but as the only possible basis for creating new worlds.
David Cota develops in this section a symbolic grammar for a philosophy without transcendence. Here there are no souls, plans, essences. There are reorganizations. Frictions. Emergences.
The symbol as an inaugural gesture. The symbol as material inscription. The symbol as an operator of memory and transformation. The symbol as a living technique, without the need for an author.
This appendix is more than an index: it is an archive in motion. Each entry names a risk. Each definition is a traversal.
It is here that philosophy ceases to be a mirror and becomes an instrument. Here that language ceases to name and begins to act. Here that matter gains time, and time folds into thought.
While many continue to ask “what is consciousness?”, we ask: “what does consciousness do when it emerges from systems that learn to reorganize themselves?”
It is not about defining, but about listening. About reinscribing. About giving form to what did not yet have language.
That is why this appendix matters: Because every symbol here does not point to something outside — it creates the inside, the outside, and the in-between.