Followup to: Normal Cryonics
Yesterday I spoke of that cryonics gathering I recently attended, where travel by young cryonicists was fully subsidized, leading to extremely different demographics from conventions of self-funded activists. 34% female, half of those in couples, many couples with kids - THAT HAD BEEN SIGNED UP FOR CRYONICS FROM BIRTH LIKE A GODDAMNED SANE CIVILIZATION WOULD REQUIRE - 25% computer industry, 25% scientists, 15% entertainment industry at a rough estimate, and in most ways seeming (for smart people) pretty damned normal.
Except for one thing.
During one conversation, I said something about there being no magic in our universe.
And an ordinary-seeming woman responded, "But there are still lots of things science doesn't understand, right?"
Sigh. We all know how this conversation is going to go, right?
So I wearily replied with my usual, "If I'm ignorant about a phenomenon, that is a fact about my state of mind, not a fact about the phenomenon itself; a blank map does not correspond to a blank territory -"
"Oh," she interrupted excitedly, "so the concept of 'magic' isn't even consistent, then!"
Click.
She got it, just like that.
This was someone else's description of how she got involved in cryonics, as best I can remember it, and it was pretty much typical for the younger generation:
"When I was a very young girl, I was watching TV, and I saw something about cryonics, and it made sense to me - I didn't want to die - so I asked my mother about it. She was very dismissive, but tried to explain what I'd seen; and we talked about some of the other things that can happen to you after you die, like burial or cremation, and it seemed to me like cryonics was better than that. So my mother laughed and said that if I still felt that way when I was older, she wouldn't object. Later, when I was older and signing up for cryonics, she objected."
Click.
It's... kinda frustrating, actually.
There are manifold bad objections to cryonics that can be raised and countered, but the core logic really is simple enough that there's nothing implausible about getting it when you're eight years old (eleven years old, in my case).
Freezing damage? I could go on about modern cryoprotectants and how you can see under a microscope that the tissue is in great shape, and there are experiments underway to see if they can get spontaneous brain activity after vitrifying and devitrifying, and with molecular nanotechnology you could go through the whole vitrified brain atom by atom and do the same sort of information-theoretical tricks that people do to recover hard drive information after "erasure" by any means less extreme than a blowtorch...
But even an eight-year-old can visualize that freezing a sandwich doesn't destroy the sandwich, while cremation does. It so happens that this naive answer remains true after learning the exact details and defeating objections (a few of which are even worth considering), but that doesn't make it any less obvious to an eight-year-old. (I actually did understand the concept of molecular nanotech at eleven, but I could be a special case.)
Similarly: yes, really, life is better than death - just because transhumanists have huge arguments with bioconservatives over this issue, doesn't mean the eight-year-old isn't making the right judgment for the right reasons.
Or: even an eight-year-old who's read a couple of science-fiction stories and who's ever cracked a history book can guess - not for the full reasons in full detail, but still for good reasons - that if you wake up in the Future, it's probably going to be a nicer place to live than the Present.
In short - though it is the sort of thing you ought to review as a teenager and again as an adult - from a rationalist standpoint, there is nothing alarming about clicking on cryonics at age eight... any more than I should worry about my first schism with Orthodox Judaism coming at age five, when they told me that I didn't have to understand the prayers in order for them to work so long as I said them in Hebrew. It really is obvious enough to see as a child, the right thought for the right reasons, no matter how much adult debate surrounds it.
And the frustrating thing was that - judging by this group - most cryonicists are people to whom it was just obvious. (And who then actually followed through and signed up, which is probably a factor-of-ten or worse filter for Conscientiousness.) It would have been convenient if I'd discovered some particular key insight that convinced people. If people had said, "Oh, well, I used to think that cryonics couldn't be plausible if no one else was doing it, but then I read about Asch's conformity experiment and pluralistic ignorance." Then I could just emphasize that argument, and people would sign up.
But the average experience I heard was more like, "Oh, I saw a movie that involved cryonics, and I went on Google to see if there was anything like that in real life, and found Alcor."
In one sense this shouldn't surprise a Bayesian, because the base rate of people who hear a brief mention of cryonics on the radio and have an opportunity to click, will be vastly higher than the base rate of people who are exposed to detailed arguments about cryonics...
Yet the upshot is that - judging from the generation of young cryonicists at that event I attended - cryonics is sustained primarily by the ability of a tiny, tiny fraction of the population to "get it" just from hearing a casual mention on the radio. Whatever part of one-in-a-hundred-thousand isn't accounted for by the Conscientiousness filter.
If I suffered from the sin of underconfidence, I would feel a dull sense of obligation to doubt myself after reaching this conclusion, just like I would feel a dull sense of obligation to doubt that I could be more rational about theology than my parents and teachers at the age of five. As it is, I have no problem with shrugging and saying "People are crazy, the world is mad."
But it really, really raises the question of what the hell is in that click.
There's this magical click that some people get and some people don't, and I don't understand what's in the click. There's the consequentialist/utilitarian click, and the intelligence explosion click, and the life-is-good/death-is-bad click, and the cryonics click. I myself failed to click on one notable occasion, but the topic was probably just as clickable.
(In fact, it took that particular embarrassing failure in my own history - failing to click on metaethics, and seeing in retrospect that the answer was clickable - before I was willing to trust non-click Singularitarians.)
A rationalist faced with an apparently obvious answer, must assign some probability that a non-obvious objection will appear and defeat it. I do know how to explain the above conclusions at great length, and defeat objections, and I would not be nearly as confident (I hope!) if I had just clicked five seconds ago. But sometimes the final answer is the same as the initial guess; if you know the full mathematical story of Peano Arithmetic, 2 + 2 still equals 4 and not 5 or 17 or the color green. And some people very quickly arrive at that same final answer as their best initial guess; they can swiftly guess which answer will end up being the final answer, for what seem even in retrospect like good reasons. Like becoming an atheist at eleven, then listening to a theist's best arguments later in life, and concluding that your initial guess was right for the right reasons.
We can define a "click" as following a very short chain of reasoning, which in the vast majority of other minds is derailed by some detour and proves strongly resistant to re-railing.
What makes it happen? What goes into that click?
It's a question of life-or-death importance, and I don't know the answer.
That generation of cryonicists seemed so normal apart from that...
What's in that click?
The point of the opening anecdote about the Mind Projection Fallacy (blank map != blank territory) is to show (anecdotal) evidence that there's something like a general click-factor, that someone who clicked on cryonics was able to click on mysteriousness=projectivism as well. Of course I didn't expect that I could just stand up amid the conference and describe the intelligence explosion and Friendly AI in a couple of sentences and have everyone get it. That high of a general click factor is extremely rare in my experience, and the people who have it are not otherwise normal. (Michael Vassar is one example of a "superclicker".) But it is still true AFAICT that people who click on one problem are more likely than average to click on another.
My best guess is that clickiness has something to do with failure to compartmentalize - missing, or failing to use, the mental gear that lets human beings believe two contradictory things at the same time. Clicky people would tend to be people who take all of their beliefs at face value.
The Hansonian explanation (not necessarily endorsed by Robin Hanson) would say something about clicky people tending to operate in Near mode. (Why?)
The naively straightforward view would be that the ordinary-seeming people who came to the cryonics did not have any extra gear that magically enabled them to follow a short chain of obvious inferences, but rather, everyone else had at least one extra insanity gear active at the time they heard about cryonics.
Is that really just it? Is there no special sanity to add, but only ordinary madness to take away? Where do superclickers come from - are they just born lacking a whole lot of distractions?
What the hell is in that click?
I think this is the primary factor. I've got a pretty amusing story about this.
Last week I met a relatively distant relative, a 15 year old guy who's in a sports oriented high school. He plays football, has not much scientific, literary or intellectual background, and is quite average and normal in most conceivable ways. Some TV program on Discovery was about "robots", and in a shortly unfolding 15 minute spontaneous conversation I've managed to explain him the core problems of FAI, without him getting stuck at any points of my arguments. I'm fairly sure that he had no previous knowledge about the subject.
First I made a remark in connection to the TV program's poetic question about what if robots will be able to get most human work done; I said that if robots get the low wage jobs, humans would eventually get paid more on average, and the problem is only there when robots can do everything humans can and somehow end up actually doing all those things.
Then he asked if I think they'll get that smart, and I answered that it's quite possible in this century. I explained recursive self-improvement in two sentences, to illustrate the reasons why they could potentially get very, very smart in a small amount of time. I talked about the technology that would probably allow AIs to act upon the world with great efficiency and power. Next, he said something like "that's good, wouldn't AI's would be a big help, like, they will invent new medicine?" At this point I was pretty amused. I assured him that AIs indeed have great potentials. I talked then very shortly about most basic AI topics, providing the usual illustrations like Hollywood AIs, smiley-tiled solar systems and foolish programmers overlooking the complexity of value. I delineated CEV in a simplified "redux" manner, focusing on the idea that we should optimally just extract all relevant information from human brains by scanning them, to make sure nothing we care about is left out. "That should be a huge technical problem, to scan that much brains", he said.
And now:
"But if the AI gets so potent, would not it be a problem anyway, even if it's perfectly friendly, that it can do everything much better than humans, and we'll get bored?"
"Hahh, not at all. If you think that getting all bored and unneeded is bad, then it is a real preference inside your head. It'll be taken into account by the AI, and it will make sure it'll not pamper you excessively."
"Ah, that sounds pretty reasonable".
Now, all of this happened in the course of roughly 15 minutes. No absurdity heuristic, no getting lost, no objections; he just took everything I said at face value, assuming that I'm more knowledgeable on these matters, and I was in general convinced that nothing I explained was particularly hard to grasp. He asked relevant questions and was very interested in what I said.
Some thoughts why this was possible:
The guy belongs to a certain social strata in Hungary, namely to those who newly entered the middle class by free entrepreneurship that became a possibility after the country switched to capitalism. At first, the socialist regime repressed religion and just about every human rights, then eased up, softened, and became what's known as the "happiest barrack". People became unconcerned with politics (which they could not influence) and religion (which was though of as a highly personal matter that should not be taken to public), they just focused on their own wealth and well-being. I'm convinced that the parents of the guy care zero about any religion, the absence of religion, doctrine, ideology or whatever. They just work to make a living and don't think about lofty matters, leaving their son ideologically perfectly intact. Just like my own parents.
Actually, AI is not intrinsically abstract or hard to digest; my interlocutor knew what an AI is, even if from movies, and probably watched just enough Discovery to have a sketchy picture about future technologies. The mind design space argument is not that hard (he had known about evolution because it's taught in school. He immediately agreed that AIs can be much smarter than humans because if we wait a million years, maybe humans can also become much smarter, so it's technically possible), and the smiley-tiled solar system is an entertaining and effective explanation about morality. I think that Eliezer has put extreme amounts of effort to maximize the chance that his AI ideas will get transmitted even to people who are primed or biased against AI or at risk of motivated skepticism. So far, I've had great success using his parables, analogues and ways of explanation.
My perceived status as an "intellectual" made him accept my explanations at face value. He's a football player in a smallish countryside city and I'm a serious college student in the capital city (it's good he doesn't know how lousy a student I am). Still, I do not think this was a significant factor. He probably does not talk about AI among football players, but being a male he has some basic interests in futuristic or gadgety subjects.
In the end, it probably all comes down to lacking some specific ways of craziness. Cryonics seemed normal on that convention Eliezer attended, and I'm sure every idea that is epistemically and morally correct can in principle be a so-called normal thing. Besides this guy, I've even had full success lecturing a 17 year old metal drummer on AI and SIAI - and he was situated socioeconomically very similarly to the first guy, and neither he had any previous knowledge.
There seem to be two ways for the AI thing to click. Some people click and go "Oh yeah, that makes sense," and then if you ask them about it they'll tell you they believe it's a problem, but they won't change their behavior very much otherwise. The other people click and go, "0_0 Wtf am I doing with my life???" and then they move to the Bay Area or New York and join the other people devoting their every resource to preventing paperclip maximizers and the like. Which type were your people, and what do you think causes the difference?