From Think Like a Freak:
Now we asked about the print ads. How often did they run? One executive told us, with obvious pride, that the company had bought newspaper inserts every single Sunday for the past twenty years in 250 markets across the United States.
So how could they tell whether these ads were effective? They couldn’t. With no variation whatsoever, it was impossible to know.
What if, we said, the company ran an experiment to find out? In science, the randomized control trial has been the gold standard of learning for hundreds of years—but why should scientists have all the fun? We described an experiment the company might run. They could select 40 major markets across the country and randomly divide them into two groups. In the first group, the company would keep buying newspaper ads every Sunday. In the second group, they’d go totally dark—not a single ad. After three months, it would be easy to compare merchandise sales in the two groups to see how much the print ads mattered.
“Are you crazy?” one marketing executive said. “We can’t possibly go dark in 20 markets. Our CEO would kill us.”
“Yeah,” said someone else, “it’d be like that kid in Pittsburgh.”
What kid in Pittsburgh?
They told us about a summer intern who was supposed to call in the Sunday ad buys for the Pittsburgh newspapers. For whatever reason, he botched his assignment and failed to make the calls. So for the entire summer, the company ran no newspaper ads in a large chunk of Pittsburgh. “Yeah,” one executive said, “we almost got fired for that one.”
So what happened, we asked, to the company’s Pittsburgh sales that summer?
They looked at us, then at each other—and sheepishly admitted it never occurred to them to check the data. When they went back and ran the numbers, they found something shocking: the ad blackout hadn’t affected Pittsburgh sales at all!
Now that, we said, is valuable feedback. The company may well be wasting hundreds of millions of dollars on advertising. How could the executives know for sure? That 40-market experiment would go a long way toward answering the question. And so, we asked them, are you ready to try it now?
“Are you crazy?” the marketing executive said again. “We’ll get fired if we do that!”
To this day, on every single Sunday in every single market, this company still buys newspaper advertising—even though the only real piece of feedback they ever got is that the ads don’t work.
More (#1) from Think Like a Freak:
...The rules were simple. A contestant ate as many hot dogs and buns (“HDB,” officially) as he could in 12 minutes. Any HDB or portion thereof already in the eater’s mouth when the final bell rang would count toward his total as long as he swallowed it eventually. An eater could be disqualified, however, if during the contest a significant amount of HDB that had gone into his mouth came back out—known in the sport as a “reversal of fortune.” Condiments were allowed but no serious competitor would bother. Beverages were also
One open question in AI risk strategy is: Can we trust the world's elite decision-makers (hereafter "elites") to navigate the creation of human-level AI (and beyond) just fine, without the kinds of special efforts that e.g. Bostrom and Yudkowsky think are needed?
Some reasons for concern include:
But if you were trying to argue for hope, you might argue along these lines (presented for the sake of argument; I don't actually endorse this argument):
The basic structure of this 'argument for hope' is due to Carl Shulman, though he doesn't necessarily endorse the details. (Also, it's just a rough argument, and as stated is not deductively valid.)
Personally, I am not very comforted by this argument because:
Obviously, there's a lot more for me to spell out here, and some of it may be unclear. The reason I'm posting these thoughts in such a rough state is so that MIRI can get some help on our research into this question.
In particular, I'd like to know: