I almost forgot to put a title here again

I’m writing this blog post on my smartphone, as I did yesterday’s post, and in contrast to the posts from Monday through Wednesday.  I haven’t yet received any direct feedback on whether there’s a difference for the reader or what it might be, but the numbers seem to indicate that the phone-written posts are more popular than the lapcom-written ones.

This could, however, be mere statistical fluctuation, having no relation to whether readers find one or the other type of post better.  Quite possibly, most readers wouldn’t be able to tell one from the other without being told, even if the lives of their dearest loved ones were on the line.

Such is the difficulty with finding truly dispositive evidence in ordinary life.  But that’s not to say it can’t be done.  One just has to try very hard to be clear-headed and objective.  And I don’t mean “try to try” to be clear-headed, not just to be able to say “I tried to be clear-headed”, but actually to act with the true intent to be clear-headed.

Of course, the human senses and human brains gather a tremendous amount of information every waking moment, checking it against their hitherto-built model of reality, seeing if things meet expectations according to that model, and trying to improve that model, that map, of reality.  Mind you, there’s way more info in most places than anyone can take in.  That’s okay, for the most part.  Most of that detailed information is irrelevant to the life and reproduction of a far-flung African ape*.

Speaking of updating one’s models of reality, I just yesterday came across a video/written course on tensors (for physicists and would-be physicists).  The professor’s approach seems like it’s going to be a good one, so I’m planning on trying to go through the course.

I want to learn well about tensors (about which my understanding is not yet fully clear, though I get the gist of the basics) not just for my own curiosity‒which drives me, in principle, to want to try to understand everything in the universe‒but also because I will need skill in using them and manipulating them if I am to solve my longstanding point of curiosity in Special/General Relativity.

I have a specific question about what the theories predict would happen in specific circumstances, and I have not been able to find anyone who reliably answers it.  Really, no one has answered it at all, which is not too surprising, since it is fairly esoteric.

We’ll see whether I can commit to the bit.  I have a hard time maintaining focus on things for too long at once.  I dearly love to learn about new things and to develop new skills, especially in the sciences‒well, also in the arts‒but it seems that after (far too short) a time I get distracted by another interesting thing.  Either that or I just get mentally fatigued and need to distract myself, usually either with music or something funny.

I suppose that’s not really that unusual.  But lordy, it’s frustrating.  I wish I could actually want to do what I want to want to do.  Maybe I will be able to do so someday.  Maybe I will be able to devise or find more direct control of the regions of my brain which govern attention, focus, and drive.

Of course, we do have some somewhat direct ways to affect those brain regions.  The most widely used of these ways is caffeine.  The majority of people in the world use some form of caffeine on a regular basis.  At least, that was so the last time I looked.

Of course, there are other such tools, some more powerful in some ways than caffeine, but they come with their own sets of difficulties:  these include the amphetamines and related compounds and cocaine.  They can be useful in certain circumstances, but are difficult to use well, without significantly detrimental overall outcomes.

It would be easier if we could directly stimulate (and suppress) specific areas and processes of our brains at will.  Of course, the technology to do such things exists, more or less, in raw form.  One can stimulate the brain with implanted electrodes, or one can manipulate it more indirectly via externally applied electric and magnetic fields.

This has been done, of course, if only fairly crudely.  The technology I describe in Unanimity is (mostly) very real.  Is that what makes it scaaaary?

Probably not.

Okay, that’s enough for today, and for this week as well, since I am not working tomorrow (barring the truly very much unforeseen).  I hope you all have a good day and a good weekend.  Have a good meal or two while you’re at it.  Though, possibly, that’s implicit in most concepts of good days and good weekends, come to think of it.

Oh, well.  Have good ones nevertheless.


*That refers to humans, in case it’s not clear.

“There are times I almost think I am not sure of what I absolutely know…”

Since yesterday was Monday, the 30th of June, it’s almost inevitable that today would be Tuesday, the 1st of July.  And, in fact, that is the case, unless I am wildly mistaken.

If I were to be wildly mistaken about such a thing, it’s rather interesting to consider just how I could come to be so wildly mistaken about something so prosaic and so reliably consistent.  It is from such speculations that—sometimes—ideas for stories begin.

This is not one of those times, however.  I’m not thinking about any kind of story related to that notion at all, though at times I might consider it an interesting takeoff for some supernatural horror tale.  If any of you find yourselves inspired to write a story—of any kind—based on my opening “question”, you should feel free to write that story.  I, at least, will give you no trouble.

These sorts of thoughts also remind me of a post that Eliezer Yudkowsky wrote, and which also appeared as a section in his book Rationality: From AI to Zombies.  I won’t try to recapitulate his entire argument, since he does it quite well, but it was basically a response to someone who had said or written that, while they considered it reasonable to have an open mind, they couldn’t even imagine the sort of argument or situation that could convince them that 2 + 2 for instance was not 4 but was instead, say, 3.

Yudkowsky, however, said that it was quite straightforward what sort of evidence could make him believe that 2 + 2 = 3; it would be the same kind of evidence that had convinced him that 2 + 2 = 4.  In other words, if it began to be the case that, whenever he had two of a thing and added two more, and then he subsequently counted, and the total was always three, well, though he might be puzzled at first, after a while, assuming the change and all its consequences were consistent and consistent with all other forms of counting, he would eventually just internalize it.  He might wonder how he had been so obviously mistaken for so long with the whole “4” thing, but that would do it.

This argument makes sense, and it raises an important point related to what I said last week about dogmatic thinking.  One should always, at least in principle, be open to reexamining one’s conclusions, and even one’s convictions, if new evidence and/or reasoning comes to bear.

That doesn’t mean that all ideas are equally up for grabs.  As Jefferson pointed out about governments in the Declaration of Independence, things that are well established and which have endured successfully shouldn’t be cast aside for light or frivolous reasons.

So, for instance, if you’ve come to the moral conclusion that it’s not right to steal from other people, and you’re pretty comfortable with that conclusion, you don’t need to doubt yourself significantly anytime anyone tries to justify their own personal malfeasance.  Most such justifications will be little more than excuse making.  However, if one should  encounter a new argument or new data or what have you* that really seems to contradict your conclusion, it would be unreasonable not to examine one’s conclusions at least, and to try to do so rigorously and honestly.

There are certain purely logical conclusions that will be definitively true given the axioms of a particular system, such as “If A = B and B = C then A = C”, and these can be considered reasonably unassailable.  But it still wouldn’t be foolish to give ear if some reasonable and intelligent and appropriately skilled person says they think they have a disproof of even that.  They may be wrong, but as John Stuart Mill pointed out, listening to arguments against your beliefs is a good way to sharpen your own understanding of those beliefs.

For instance, how certain are you that the Earth is round, not flat?  How well do you know why the evidence is so conclusive?  Could you explain why even the ancient Greeks and their contemporaries all could already tell that the Earth was round?

How sure are you that your political “opponents” are incorrect in their ideas and ideals?  Have you considered their points of view in any form other than sound bites and tweets and memes shared on social media, usually by people with whom you already agree?  Can you consider your opponents’ points of view not merely with an eye to puncturing them, but with an eye to understanding them?

Even if there’s no real chance that you’ll agree with them, it’s fair to recognize that almost no one comes to their personal convictions for no reason whatsoever, or purely out of perversity or malice.  At the very least, compassion (which I also wrote a little bit about last week) should dictate at least trying to recognize and consider why other people think the way they do.

Sometimes, if for no other reasons, it is through understanding how someone comes to their personal beliefs that one can best see how to persuade them to change those beliefs (assuming you are not swayed by their point of view).

This is a high bar to set when it comes to public reasonableness, I know, but I think it’s worth seeking that level.  Why aim to be anything less than the best we can strive to be, as individuals and as societies?  We may never quite reach our ideals, but we may at least be able to approach them asymptotically.  It seems worth the effort.

But I could be wrong.


*I don’t have any idea what such an argument or such evidence would be, but that’s part of the point.  Presumably, if I were being intellectually honest, and someone raised such a new argument, I would recognize it for what it was.