About Me
Life is like an NP-hard Problem
Under Construction
I am primarily a university professor, computer scientist, physicist, traveler, and independent researcher with deep interest in a number of theoretical fields. As a previous student of fields medalist Dr. Richard Borcherds at UC Berkeley in EECS, I have a deep interest as an independent researcher in emerging theories of physics and their implications for technology and society, like postquantum lattice cryptography, theories of mind or consciousness, socioeconophysics or cybernetics, fluid dynamics or magnetohydrodynamics, and unresolved problems in mathematics. In my career I have worked on experimental automomous flying vehicles, on experimental biomedical devices, with the NSA (where I was sponsored for a TS/SCI w/FSP), on automotive applications, and financial analysis.
In my career at big tech companies like Meta and Microsoft, where I have worked in AI research and published on Majorana physics (through the Information Physics Institute in the UK). I was accepted into LSU's remote MBA graduate program.
I attended UC Berkeley during the occupy movement as a 500 million dollar budget cut left 10% of my peers unhoused, where I initially dropped out and fell through the cracks. Furious students deposed the Chancellor and forced him to resign. Growing up in Simi Valley, California, and as a Ronald Reagan scholarship recipient, I was challenged to consider the devastating impacts of neoliberal economics and the lack of accountability of leaders. Mass layoffs and displacement of workers at major tech companies has also been a major concern.
I spent over a year traveling the country off-grid in a "tiny home" trailer that I built in the harshest possible environments - in the Arizona desert summer and the Iowa winter where temperatures reached colder than the arctic, as well as on old western movie sets like Corgainville, CA.
My goals are to better understand the nature of human consciousness relative to machines, the pursuit of a complete theory of socioeconophysics and cybernetics to diagnose and repair the ailments of American democracy, and to affirm that to request any class of truly uncrackable encryptions of the universe is too hubristic a request for any unaccountable class of elites. My goal is to apply this towards social and economic development not only of the United States but in solidarity with other nations like China, East Timor, and Rwanda.
My Story
Trevor Nestor is currently an independent researcher, sci-
entist, and AI engineer at Microsoft, has previously worked
at Meta, at banks, and has studied the topics of
lattice cryptography, controversial theories of conscious-
ness, and theories of quantum gravity for over 10 years.
Starting as an undergraduate at the University of Califor-
nia, Berkeley, Trevor was a student of fields medalist Dr.
Richard Borcherds who specializes in string theory and
lattice maths.
During his travels, Trevor traveled off-grid in a trailer
he built as a digital nomad where his uncanny adventures
influenced his work.
Trevor sits in a dimly lit coffee shop near the UC Berke-
ley campus, his laptop open to a string of code. At 28, he’s
dressed in the unofficial uniform of Silicon Valley engi-
neers: a faded band T-shirt (his father’s punk rock group,
*Fatal Error*), jeans, and the tired smile of someone who
has spent too many nights debugging algorithms.
But
his story is no ordinary tech-bro narrative. Trevor has be-
come an accidental chronicler of millennial angst, blend-
ing computer science jargon with painfully relatable tales
of romantic misadventures, familial dysfunction, and a
generation’s search for stability in an unstable world.
Trevor’s origin story reads like a Wes Anderson script
directed by David Lynch. His father, a leather-clad punk
rocker, wrote subversive anthems about repression and
nonconformity while his mother, a devoutly religious tradi-
tional homemaker, enforced strict creationist conservative
beliefs and banned secular music in their home. “Imagine
growing up where your dad’s band practices in the garage,
but he has to whisper the lyrics because Mom might hear
the word ‘hell,’” Trevor says, sipping a black coffee. “It
was like living inside a Schrödinger’s box of rebellion and
guilt.”
Coming from Simi Valley, California,
a conservative haven which contained the Ronald Reagan
presidential library and the site of the worst nuclear disas-
ter in US history which released more radiation than the
Three Mile Island disaster, Trevor then graduated at the
top of his class and attended the University of California,
Berkeley.
At the university, Trevor found himself thrust into
what he describes as “the noise floor of human experience,”
like "falling into a wormhole but never emerging on the
other end." In fact, during welcome week at UC Berkeley,
students do a dance to the "time warp," an annual ritual,
and then once again when they graduate. Trevor never
had the opportunity to do it again, after initially dropping
out when the campus devolved into protests where stu-
dents deposed the chancellor of the university by force
after a year of 500 million dollar budget cuts to the UC
system. The campus’s notorious counterculture including com-
munist professors screening gay adult films in lectures,
anarchist collectives staging protests against chain restau-
rants, floormmates scaling buildings nude became both
a crucible and a metaphor for his internal chaos and tur-
bulence. “It was like my code kept hitting segmentation
faults,” he says, referencing a common programming error.
“Every day, my worldview *segfaulted*.” But the real
education, he says, came from learning to navigate a world
of symbolic contradictions where logic often fails. “You
can’t debug human emotion. Love isn’t a deterministic
algorithm — it’s more like. . . a blockchain with no con-
sensus mechanism.” In one interaction, Trevor describes
taking a homeless person out to lunch named Rainbow.
"He was trying to tell me that people connect with each
other wirelessly, but I tried to tell him that’s technically
infeasible when the electromagnetic waves in the brain are
too weak to propagate beyond the bone tissue of the skull."
Trevor’s professional journey mirrors his romantic
chaos. After the Occupy Cal protests, he felt disoriented,
"it was like playing a video game that glitches up after you
miss a main quest item, where after you are left roaming
around the map aimlessly messing around" he commented.
Initially searching for engineering positions, Trevor re-
ceived a rescinded offer from defense contractor General
Dynamics (“they did something sketchy and I got a 2,000
dollars hush-money check”), he endured a surreal inter-
view with an intelligence consultant in Virginia who grilled
him on Java encapsulation while ranting about political
conspiracies. “She asked if I was ‘rebellious.’ I said I’m
more of a Turing machine - linear, predictable. She ghosted
me harder than a null pointer exception, and I didn’t understand why.”