...are exceeded by the costs.
The ruled will always despise their rulers as incompetent, every failure laid at their feet. Every iota of power granted to their ruler comes with expectations which will never - can never - be met.
The rulers will always despise the ruled, seeing them as miscreants aiming to thwart their own grand plans, throwing wrenches into schemes which, if only permitted to succeed, would do so on the grandest scale. They never have enough power to truly do the good they seek, and so always seek more.
Democracy in the end despises itself, an institution continually expanding its power but never delivering on the promises it makes to itself.
Monday, March 19, 2012
People...
...tend to assume other people think in an identical manner to themselves.
I don't. I know for a fact that I think in a manner radically different from most others. I know this just from trying to explain things; I use words in a manner which is... absurdly poetic. I can stuff as much meaning in a sentence as would take some people several pages. It's just typically difficult if not impossible for other people to decrypt everything I've put there.
Not to say by that that I am smarter than other people, although that is true, but that I think in the same manner. The word "externality" from a couple of posts back, for example. When I use it, the two definitions aren't distinct; I know they aren't distinct, one follows from the other. So saying that information is missing from the system results in externalities is a very simple logic. Other people might find that I was missing a step in the logical process, however, because I didn't demonstrate this; an externality IS missing information, however. The statement is by my thought processes a tautology, necessary to state only because other people do not integrate information in the same manner I do.
And this is the manner in which I think. As a result, or perhaps a precursor - the causality is unclear to me - I integrate information at an absurd rate. There's almost nothing I know which isn't implicitly or explicitly related to other information; integrating information is largely the process for me of explicitly identifying these connections so they can be used implicitly. Thermodynamics was absurdly easy to me after Physics I, which, introducing a lot of concepts I hadn't previously integrated (particularly concerning rotation), was the most difficult course I've ever taken. I didn't merely integrate the specific information Physics conveyed, but the model, the metainformation; Thermodynamics contained very little new information for me, because it's operating on the same model, the same metainformation.
And I know for a fact that other people don't think the same way I do. Mine is a slow and ponderous thinking process, powerful only because of the level of meaning encoded in each concept. I know somebody for whom thinking is a delegatory multi-track process with a stack trace at the end of each thread's conclusion. His thought process is radically different from mine; we still tend to arrive at the same conclusions. An observer might conclude our thought processes were identical; this is far from the case.
The key point about an effective thought process is that it will, by and large, arrive at likely conclusions, given supporting evidence. My thought process excels at certain tasks; his excels at others. The intersection of these two thought processes is pretty substantial, however.
I know little to nothing of professional psychologists, but have considerably more experience with hobby psychologists, and they tend towards comprehensive models. They want to define how the brain works, assuming, on the basis that people frequently arrive at similar conclusions, that there is one cohesive model that can describe this process.
This assumption is fatally flawed, however; it presumes that given a set of inputs, and given a single output, only one process can get from A to B. The inputs and the outputs are just data points, and for any finite set of data points, there are an infinite number of potential formulae that can describe the graph.
Similarly, there are an infinite number of possible ways for somebody to be smart.
Some insist that this is unrealistic; that our brain shares a common architecture, that it must share a common data model, a common algorithm. It is this insistence which is unrealistic; it presumes our logical faculties are hardcoded, something for which there is little to no affirmative evidence, and quite a bit of contradicting evidence. Feral children are a frequent example, but also studies into linguistics as a formative brain model, demonstrating for example that cultures with more words for colors are better at distinguishing between colors.
There may be evidence I haven't seen, this is always a possibility, but my personal experience AND every piece of substantive evidence I have seen suggests very strongly that there is more than one mental model, that the pursuit of a universal model for the mind is fundamentally flawed in its base presumption that there is a universal model to be found.
This, I think, is a fault Ayn Rand was pretty heavily invested in, and one of my divergences from her mode of thinking. I have encountered people who are willing to admit hypocrisy, and more defend it as a necessary element of existence; contradiction is something permissible not merely in their model of the world, but their model of themselves. Contradiction isn't merely impermissible to me on a moral basis, it breaks the very mode by which I think, by which I reason. Integration is -how- I think. Contradiction throws null pointer exceptions all over the place; it just plain doesn't compute. I could as easily invisage ultraviolet as a fourth color as imagine a persisted contradiction in my thoughts. (That's not to say temporal contradictions don't arise, but they can't be integrated while contradicting; either the old or the new contradicted information has to go. I am literally incapable of holding onto both at the same time.)
So I know there are multiple architectures for the thought process, simply by virtue of the fact that mine is extraordinarily and obviously divergent. Insistence to the contrary is just silly to me.
I don't. I know for a fact that I think in a manner radically different from most others. I know this just from trying to explain things; I use words in a manner which is... absurdly poetic. I can stuff as much meaning in a sentence as would take some people several pages. It's just typically difficult if not impossible for other people to decrypt everything I've put there.
Not to say by that that I am smarter than other people, although that is true, but that I think in the same manner. The word "externality" from a couple of posts back, for example. When I use it, the two definitions aren't distinct; I know they aren't distinct, one follows from the other. So saying that information is missing from the system results in externalities is a very simple logic. Other people might find that I was missing a step in the logical process, however, because I didn't demonstrate this; an externality IS missing information, however. The statement is by my thought processes a tautology, necessary to state only because other people do not integrate information in the same manner I do.
And this is the manner in which I think. As a result, or perhaps a precursor - the causality is unclear to me - I integrate information at an absurd rate. There's almost nothing I know which isn't implicitly or explicitly related to other information; integrating information is largely the process for me of explicitly identifying these connections so they can be used implicitly. Thermodynamics was absurdly easy to me after Physics I, which, introducing a lot of concepts I hadn't previously integrated (particularly concerning rotation), was the most difficult course I've ever taken. I didn't merely integrate the specific information Physics conveyed, but the model, the metainformation; Thermodynamics contained very little new information for me, because it's operating on the same model, the same metainformation.
And I know for a fact that other people don't think the same way I do. Mine is a slow and ponderous thinking process, powerful only because of the level of meaning encoded in each concept. I know somebody for whom thinking is a delegatory multi-track process with a stack trace at the end of each thread's conclusion. His thought process is radically different from mine; we still tend to arrive at the same conclusions. An observer might conclude our thought processes were identical; this is far from the case.
The key point about an effective thought process is that it will, by and large, arrive at likely conclusions, given supporting evidence. My thought process excels at certain tasks; his excels at others. The intersection of these two thought processes is pretty substantial, however.
I know little to nothing of professional psychologists, but have considerably more experience with hobby psychologists, and they tend towards comprehensive models. They want to define how the brain works, assuming, on the basis that people frequently arrive at similar conclusions, that there is one cohesive model that can describe this process.
This assumption is fatally flawed, however; it presumes that given a set of inputs, and given a single output, only one process can get from A to B. The inputs and the outputs are just data points, and for any finite set of data points, there are an infinite number of potential formulae that can describe the graph.
Similarly, there are an infinite number of possible ways for somebody to be smart.
Some insist that this is unrealistic; that our brain shares a common architecture, that it must share a common data model, a common algorithm. It is this insistence which is unrealistic; it presumes our logical faculties are hardcoded, something for which there is little to no affirmative evidence, and quite a bit of contradicting evidence. Feral children are a frequent example, but also studies into linguistics as a formative brain model, demonstrating for example that cultures with more words for colors are better at distinguishing between colors.
There may be evidence I haven't seen, this is always a possibility, but my personal experience AND every piece of substantive evidence I have seen suggests very strongly that there is more than one mental model, that the pursuit of a universal model for the mind is fundamentally flawed in its base presumption that there is a universal model to be found.
This, I think, is a fault Ayn Rand was pretty heavily invested in, and one of my divergences from her mode of thinking. I have encountered people who are willing to admit hypocrisy, and more defend it as a necessary element of existence; contradiction is something permissible not merely in their model of the world, but their model of themselves. Contradiction isn't merely impermissible to me on a moral basis, it breaks the very mode by which I think, by which I reason. Integration is -how- I think. Contradiction throws null pointer exceptions all over the place; it just plain doesn't compute. I could as easily invisage ultraviolet as a fourth color as imagine a persisted contradiction in my thoughts. (That's not to say temporal contradictions don't arise, but they can't be integrated while contradicting; either the old or the new contradicted information has to go. I am literally incapable of holding onto both at the same time.)
So I know there are multiple architectures for the thought process, simply by virtue of the fact that mine is extraordinarily and obviously divergent. Insistence to the contrary is just silly to me.
In Vein...
...with a few other posts making their way [link] [link], with a ht to Marko, my own possible experience with a potential street robbery:
I and my brother were wandering the mean, mean streets of downtown New Haven (That's a half-joke; Yale was in sight where the incident occurred), when my brother and I noticed that a guy had been tailing us for about a city block. He commented on it, I affirmed; just the fact that both of us noticed the guy suggested something.
I was unarmed, or as unarmed as a six foot, one-eighty pound guy who worked out regularly and jogged miles a day up and down hills can be. My brother had a necktie knife. So we watched cautiously for another block, and stepped into a convenience store for a few minutes.
And yep. The guy, and now a buddy, were across the street when we came out, and started following us again as we started walking again. We were definitely being tailed.
And so, thinking in sync, we started talking, very loudly, about a friend of ours who had been mugged; laughed that he had been unarmed, that he should have just shot the asshole.
The two peeled off and went in a different direction.
Your wits are your most effective weapon. But when they fail, as they are prone to do, a gun makes a handy back-up.
Personally I'm inclined to have shot the fuckers, but that was before I owned a gun; I started the process for getting a concealed carry license in Connecticut shortly thereafter, and acquired a gun soon after that. I dislike intensely that they simply moved on to less prepared targets.
I would have no compunctions about killing such creatures, in this I differ from most gun owners. The paperwork and potential court costs would be an inconvenience, but preferential to an innocent individual dying in the stead of the mugger, for that is the alternative.
I and my brother were wandering the mean, mean streets of downtown New Haven (That's a half-joke; Yale was in sight where the incident occurred), when my brother and I noticed that a guy had been tailing us for about a city block. He commented on it, I affirmed; just the fact that both of us noticed the guy suggested something.
I was unarmed, or as unarmed as a six foot, one-eighty pound guy who worked out regularly and jogged miles a day up and down hills can be. My brother had a necktie knife. So we watched cautiously for another block, and stepped into a convenience store for a few minutes.
And yep. The guy, and now a buddy, were across the street when we came out, and started following us again as we started walking again. We were definitely being tailed.
And so, thinking in sync, we started talking, very loudly, about a friend of ours who had been mugged; laughed that he had been unarmed, that he should have just shot the asshole.
The two peeled off and went in a different direction.
Your wits are your most effective weapon. But when they fail, as they are prone to do, a gun makes a handy back-up.
Personally I'm inclined to have shot the fuckers, but that was before I owned a gun; I started the process for getting a concealed carry license in Connecticut shortly thereafter, and acquired a gun soon after that. I dislike intensely that they simply moved on to less prepared targets.
I would have no compunctions about killing such creatures, in this I differ from most gun owners. The paperwork and potential court costs would be an inconvenience, but preferential to an innocent individual dying in the stead of the mugger, for that is the alternative.
Transhumanism and the Technocratic Urge
Transhumanists deal with alien intelligence in their theory frequently; ask if they would support putting our economy in the hands of a powerful distributed AI, and they'll say yes. Point out that capitalism represents the earliest, and thus far most powerful, artificial (and alien) intelligence yet encountered, and you'll leave them sputtering. (See Less Wrong for transhumanist perspectives which aren't anti-capitalist; I presume the majority I have encountered here.)
Transhumanists, like most liberals, are big on intent (Hayek wrote about this, and Kevin from Smallest Minority has also written good material on the subject). You can shut down arguments very quickly with a one-two-three punch; point out that capitalism achieves good ends. An honest individual will admit to this, but will add a "But" to it; typically pointing out the externalities of the capitalism system. Second, point out that externalities don't go away in another system; even a hyperintelligence can only account for the information it has, and has no power to predict information it doesn't; there will always be externalities to any decision-making process.
Here, the twin definitions of "externality" play in perfect cohesion - it is defined both as a price which is not reflected in cost, but also information which exists outside the perceived domain. A strong understanding of capitalist theory holds that these are one and the same, of course. Cost -is- information; information which isn't included in cost is an externality.
And third, and finally, while they're stumped on this second point, there's the simple fact that capitalism, as a hyperintelligence of distributed nodes, is tested and proven, and that their resistance to it stems from the fact (getting back to intent) that they dislike that the positive ends feel like externalities to the system; it has no sense of intent, and they fear this. Their fears run in the face of all evidence; they are behaving like luddites. Ask what kind of superintelligence they would put in charge, and why. Ask whether the unintended consequences they may face are superior to a situation which chafes because it achieves an end without setting out towards it; why they demand their intelligence must possess intent to be effective.
I've played this argument out before. It works, for a short while at least; people are good at rationalizing their positions, however, and rarely stray from hard-held beliefs.
Transhumanists, like most liberals, are big on intent (Hayek wrote about this, and Kevin from Smallest Minority has also written good material on the subject). You can shut down arguments very quickly with a one-two-three punch; point out that capitalism achieves good ends. An honest individual will admit to this, but will add a "But" to it; typically pointing out the externalities of the capitalism system. Second, point out that externalities don't go away in another system; even a hyperintelligence can only account for the information it has, and has no power to predict information it doesn't; there will always be externalities to any decision-making process.
Here, the twin definitions of "externality" play in perfect cohesion - it is defined both as a price which is not reflected in cost, but also information which exists outside the perceived domain. A strong understanding of capitalist theory holds that these are one and the same, of course. Cost -is- information; information which isn't included in cost is an externality.
And third, and finally, while they're stumped on this second point, there's the simple fact that capitalism, as a hyperintelligence of distributed nodes, is tested and proven, and that their resistance to it stems from the fact (getting back to intent) that they dislike that the positive ends feel like externalities to the system; it has no sense of intent, and they fear this. Their fears run in the face of all evidence; they are behaving like luddites. Ask what kind of superintelligence they would put in charge, and why. Ask whether the unintended consequences they may face are superior to a situation which chafes because it achieves an end without setting out towards it; why they demand their intelligence must possess intent to be effective.
I've played this argument out before. It works, for a short while at least; people are good at rationalizing their positions, however, and rarely stray from hard-held beliefs.
Monday, March 12, 2012
The definition of light...
...according to my physics model:
Light is variance in gravity. More particularly, it is a wave propagating through gravity representing a change in the origin of that gravitational force's position.
This strictly speaking doesn't depend upon my model of gravity, which I haven't elaborated greatly on yet; as far as I know it should work just as well in any model of gravity. In a particulate gravity system, photons are just gravitons with different values than their predecessors.
It predicts some curious behavior for isolated particles, however.
Light is variance in gravity. More particularly, it is a wave propagating through gravity representing a change in the origin of that gravitational force's position.
This strictly speaking doesn't depend upon my model of gravity, which I haven't elaborated greatly on yet; as far as I know it should work just as well in any model of gravity. In a particulate gravity system, photons are just gravitons with different values than their predecessors.
It predicts some curious behavior for isolated particles, however.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Evolution of Infectious Agents...
[Figured I'd finish writing an older post.]
Historically, infectious agents are ultimately limited by their own success; a virus which is too successful kills its host and isolates itself from further propagation mechanisms. A virus which isn't successful enough doesn't spread rapidly enough to propagate itself to begin with. There's a fairly narrow window between these two failure modes wherein success lays.
Even if medicine were to make headway against infectious agents, it would only serve to move these windows over. Medicine gets added to the arms race, rather than eliminating it. The excesses of an infectious agent no longer lead to the destruction of its own viability; modern medicine helps maintain its hosts and return them to the pool it depends upon.
The campaign against infectious agents therefore must be all or nothing; the present strategy of amelioration is ultimately unsustainable.
Of course, it's possible we're merely delaying a "proper" solution until the day we're able to complete it. The question that remains is whether our delays make a proper solution impossible, or at least delay its implementation as well; had we had the antibiotics a hundred years ago that we possess today, would broad-spectrum treatments have been survivable for any specimen?
Historically, infectious agents are ultimately limited by their own success; a virus which is too successful kills its host and isolates itself from further propagation mechanisms. A virus which isn't successful enough doesn't spread rapidly enough to propagate itself to begin with. There's a fairly narrow window between these two failure modes wherein success lays.
Even if medicine were to make headway against infectious agents, it would only serve to move these windows over. Medicine gets added to the arms race, rather than eliminating it. The excesses of an infectious agent no longer lead to the destruction of its own viability; modern medicine helps maintain its hosts and return them to the pool it depends upon.
The campaign against infectious agents therefore must be all or nothing; the present strategy of amelioration is ultimately unsustainable.
Of course, it's possible we're merely delaying a "proper" solution until the day we're able to complete it. The question that remains is whether our delays make a proper solution impossible, or at least delay its implementation as well; had we had the antibiotics a hundred years ago that we possess today, would broad-spectrum treatments have been survivable for any specimen?
Hiatus...
...the blog is dead right now because I don't have a lot to say.
I amend that, I don't have a lot to say that I'll say here.
One of the rules I try to follow in writing for this blog is that everything I write must matter as much ten months or years from now as today, and right now, most of my interests are either personal or topical.
I amend that, I don't have a lot to say that I'll say here.
One of the rules I try to follow in writing for this blog is that everything I write must matter as much ten months or years from now as today, and right now, most of my interests are either personal or topical.
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