Related: http://lesswrong.com/lw/1kh/the_correct_contrarian_cluster/, http://lesswrong.com/lw/1mh/that_magical_click/, http://lesswrong.com/lw/18b/reason_as_memetic_immune_disorder/
Given a claim, and assuming that its truth or falsehood would be important to you, how do you decide if it's worth investigating? How do you identify "bunk" or "crackpot" ideas?
Here are some examples to give an idea.
"Here's a perpetual motion machine": bunk. "I've found an elementary proof of Fermat's Last Theorem": bunk. "9-11 was an inside job": bunk.
"Humans did not cause global warming": possibly bunk, but I'm not sure. "The Singularity will come within 100 years": possibly bunk, but I'm not sure. "The economic system is close to collapse": possibly bunk, but I'm not sure.
"There is a genetic difference in IQ between races": I think it's probably false, but not quite bunk. "Geoengineering would be effective in mitigating global warming": I think it's probably false, but not quite bunk.
(These are my own examples. They're meant to be illustrative, not definitive. I imagine that some people here will think "But that's obviously not bunk!" Sure, but you probably can think of some claim that *you* consider bunk.)
A few notes of clarification: I'm only examining factual, not normative, claims. I also am not looking at well established claims (say, special relativity) which are obviously not bunk. Neither am I looking at claims where it's easy to pull data that obviously refutes them. (For example, "There are 10 people in the US population.") I'm concerned with claims that look unlikely, but not impossible. Also, "Is this bunk?" is not the same question as "Is this true?" A hypothesis can turn out to be false without being bunk (for example, the claim that geological formations were created by gradual processes. That was a respectable position for 19th century geologists to take, and a claim worth investigating, even if subsequent evidence did show it to be false.) The question "Is this bunk?" arises when someone makes an unlikely-sounding claim, but I don't actually have the knowledge right now to effectively refute it, and I want to know if the claim is a legitimate subject of inquiry or the work of a conspiracy theory/hoax/cult/crackpot. In other words, is it a scientific or a pseudoscientific hypothesis? Or, in practical terms, is it worth it for me or anybody else to investigate it?
This is an important question, and especially to this community. People involved in artificial intelligence or the Singularity or existential risk are on the edge of the scientific mainstream and it's particularly crucial to distinguish an interesting hypothesis from a bunk one. Distinguishing an innovator from a crackpot is vital in fields where there are both innovators and crackpots.
I claim bunk exists. That is, there are claims so cracked that they aren't worth investigating. "I was abducted by aliens" has such a low prior that I'm not even going to go check up on the details -- I'm simply going to assume the alleged alien abductee is a fraud or nut. Free speech and scientific freedom do not require us to spend resources investigating every conceivable claim. Some claims are so likely to be nonsense that, given limited resources, we can justifiably dismiss them.
But how do we determine what's likely to be nonsense? "I know it when I see it" is a pretty bad guide.
First idea: check if the proposer uses the techniques of rationality and science. Does he support claims with evidence? Does he share data and invite others to reproduce his experiments? Are there internal inconsistencies and logical fallacies in his claim? Does he appeal to dogma or authority? If there are features in the hypothesis itself that mark it as pseudoscience, then it's safely dismissed; no need to look further.
But what if there aren't such clear warning signs? Our gracious host Eliezer Yudkowsky, for example, does not display those kinds of obvious tip-offs of pseudoscience -- he doesn't ask people to take things on faith, he's very alert to fallacies in reasoning, and so on. And yet he's making an extraordinary claim (the likelihood of the Singularity), a claim I do not have the background to evaluate, but a claim that seems implausible. What now? Is this bunk?
A key thing to consider is the role of the "mainstream." When a claim is out of the mainstream, are you justified in moving it closer to the bunk file? There are three camps I have in mind, who are outside the academic mainstream, but not obviously (to me) dismissed as bunk: global warming skeptics, Austrian economists, and singularitarians. As far as I can tell, the best representatives of these schools don't commit the kinds of fallacies and bad arguments of the typical pseudoscientist. How much should we be troubled, though, by the fact that most scientists of their disciplines shun them? Perhaps it's only reasonable to give some weight to that fact.
Or is it? If all the scientists themselves are simply making their judgments based on how mainstream the outsiders are, then "mainstream" status doesn't confer any information. The reason you listen to academic scientists is that you expect that at least some of them have investigated the claim themselves. We need some fraction of respected scientists -- even a small fraction -- who are crazy enough to engage even with potentially crackpot theories, if only to debunk them. But when they do that, don't they risk being considered crackpots themselves? This is some version of "Tolerate tolerance." If you refuse to trust anybody who even considers seriously a crackpot theory, then you lose the basis on which you reject that crackpot theory.
So the question "What is bunk?", that is, the question, "What is likely enough to be worth investigating?", apparently destroys itself. You can only tell if a claim is unlikely by doing a little investigation. It's probably a reflexive process: when you do a little investigation, if it's starting to look more and more like the claim is false, you can quit, but if it's the opposite, then the claim is probably worth even more investigation.
The thing is, we all have different thresholds for what captures our attention and motivates us to investigate further. Some people are willing to do a quick Google search when somebody makes an extraordinary claim; some won't bother; some will go even further and do extensive research. When we check the consensus to see if a claim is considered bunk, we're acting on the hope that somebody has a lower threshold for investigation than we do. We hope that some poor dogged sap has spent hours diligently refuting 9-11 truthers so that we don't have to. From an economic perspective, this is an enormous free-rider problem, though -- who wants to be that poor dogged sap? The hope is that somebody, somewhere, in the human population is always inquiring enough to do at least a little preliminary investigation. We should thank the poor dogged saps of the world. We should create more incentives to be a poor dogged sap. Because if we don't have enough of them, we're going to be very mistaken when we think "Well, this wasn't important enough for anyone to investigate, so it must be bunk."
(N.B. I am aware that many climate scientists are being "poor dogged saps" by communicating with and attempting to refute global warming skeptics. I'm not aware if there are economists who bother trying to refute Austrian economics, or if there are electrical engineers and computer scientists who spend time being Singularity skeptics.)
I spent a year as a guest of Penrose's biologist collaborator, Stuart Hameroff, at the University of Arizona, and my one peer-reviewed publication dates from that time, so I can tell you more than you want to know about this subject. :-)
First you should understand the order of events. Penrose published his book arguing that there should be a trans-Turing quantum-gravity process happening in the brain. Then Hameroff wrote to him and said, I bet it's happening in the microtubules. Thus was born the version of the idea that most people hear about.
Penrose's original argument combines an old interpretation of Gödel's theorem with his own speculations about quantum gravity. The first part goes like this: For any mechanized form of mathematical reasoning, there are, necessarily, mathematical truths which it cannot prove. But we can know these propositions to be true. Therefore, human cognition must have capabilities which are not Turing-computable.
In the second part, Penrose observes that the whole of nongravitational physics is Turing-computable, but that gravitational physics is at least potentially not, because it may involve quantum sums over arbitrary 4-manifolds, and topological equivalence of 4-manifolds is not Turing-decidable. He also introduces one of his own physical ideas: Hawking evaporation of black holes appears to involve destruction of quantum information, so he proposes that conservation of probability flow is maintained by nondeterministic wavefunction collapse, which creates quantum information. He also has a technical argument against the possibility of superpositions of different geometries. So, if there are mesoscopic quantum superpositions in the brain whose components evolve towards mass distributions (and hence local space-time geometries) sufficiently different from each other that the superposition must break down, then, there is an opportunity for trans-Turing physical dynamics to play a role in human cognition.
The physical argument is very ingenious but probably wrong in two out of three places. But first, how about the prior argument using Gödel? There are two key considerations here.
Firstly, the true propositions which a formal system cannot itself prove can be proven, if you know the interpretation of the formalism, and if you know the axioms to be true and the methods of inference valid under that interpretation. In other words, knowing the semantics of the system is what allows you to construct the undecidable propositions and have an opinion about their truth. The logician Solomon Feferman has shown that if you have an extra logical primitive, "logical reflection", which amounts to accessing this information about meanings, then there are no undecidable propositions. The combination of a valid formal system and indefinitely iterated logical reflection gets you everything.
Secondly, this makes it plain that there is a connection between the Penrose-Gödel argument, and John Searle's problem regarding the semantics of computational states. If a thought is actually a brain state, what is it about that brain state that makes it a thought about one thing rather than another? Penrose doesn't address this issue, yet Feferman's analysis makes it clear that it's metacognition or reflective cognition about meanings which produces Gödelian insights.
It is possible to attack Penrose's ultimate conclusion by saying there's no empirical evidence that humans can engage in logical reflection of arbitrary order. (The higher iterations of logical reflection correspond to transfinite ordinals, because they involve induction over infinite axiom sets.) If humans can only logically reflect up to order N, then a formal system of order N+1 should be capable of equaling the human ability to reason. But really, the conclusion I draw is that we will see no end to this particular dispute until we understand how neurocomputational semantics works. Until then, we simply can't offer a neurocognitive account of advanced mathematical reasoning.
As for the physical arguments, I try to judge them from the perspective of string theory. The bit about sums over arbitrary 4-manifolds might be true; string theory is a work in progress, like most particle physics theories it's known and used only in an approximate form, and this is a level of detail which presently is neither used nor understood. On the other hand, black hole evaporation is a unitary process in string theory, so the ingenious idea of wavefunction collapse balancing quantum information loss loses its motivation. As for the technical argument about geometric superpositions, that only applies if you think superpositions are objective physical states rather than generalized probability distributions. If you take the latter view, the argument loses its potency.
Now, microtubules. My grasp of molecular neuroscience is a whole lot less than my grasp of physics, but it's definitely true that neuronal microtubules are not thought to play much of a role in cognition or consciousness. Microtubules are a dynamic structural organelle. They are scaffolding for the transport of vesicles, they move the chromosomes around during cell division, they are involved in pseudopod extrusion and cell motility. They occur in all your cells, not just neurons. Because a neuron is just another cell, but one which has specifically been shaped to perform an information-processing function, it's not surprising that microtubules are involved in the execution of that function. But everything known suggests it's a peripheral involvement.
I ended up in Arizona because I had my own reasons for being interested in quantum brain theories. And I'll say this much in favor of microtubules: if you are looking for a molecular structure in the brain which might contain long-lived quantum states, the microtubule is a great candidate. It gives you a two-dimensional space (a cylinder) protected from environmental interaction by the tails of the tubulins. A lot of cool quantum things can happen in two dimensions. The problem is, how would it be relevant to anything cognitive?
Penrose and Hameroff wrote some papers applying Penrose's quantum-gravity collapse model to microtubules. I don't believe those calculations apply to reality. I've also mentioned why, even if you could show that quantum coherence does exist in the microtubule, that doesn't yet connect it to conscious cognition. But I will still put in a word for Penrose's original conception of quantum-gravitational dynamics maybe playing a part in the physics of cognition.
If one does wish to suppose - as I do - that the neural correlate of consciousness is actually a quantum state of some brain subsystem, rather than a coarse-grained classical computational state; if one does suppose that the manifest attributes of conscious experience are to be identified with fundamental degrees of freedom in that quantum object; then it is logical to suppose that some of those degrees of freedom are what we would call, from a physical perspective, gravitational, and that they might even be dynamically relevant. The idea that Feferman's operation of conscious logical reflection is computationally implemented by a gravitational subalgebra of the full set of physical transformations of state... that's my version of Penrose's idea. I certainly don't regard it as a logical necessity; it's just a stimulating hypothesis. I look forward to the day when we know enough that I can actually rule it in or out.
Excellent explanation, thanks! So if I'm understanding correctly, while there are severe problems with Penrose's theory, it's not in the category of things to be casually dismissed as bunk; experts have found it an interesting line of thought to investigate, at least.