Which seems more unlikely: The sequences exactly matching, or the envelope sequence, converted to a number, being exactly 1649271 plus the flipped sequence converted to a number?
They're equally likely, but, unless Alice chose 1649271 specifically, I'm not quite sure what that question is supposed to show me, or how it relates to what I mentioned above.
Maybe let me put it this way: We play a dice game; if I roll 3, I win some of your money. If you roll an even number, you win some of my money. Whenever I roll, I roll a 3, always. Do you keep playing (because my chances of rolling 3-3-3-3-3-3 are exactly the same as my chances of rolling 1-3-4-2-5-6, or any other specific 6-numbered sequence) or do you quit?
All sequences, both written and flipped, are equally improbable. The difference is in treating the cases where the two sequences are identical as logically distinct from all other possible combinations of sequences. They're not nearly as distinct as you might think; imagine if she's off by one. Still pretty improbable, just not -as- improbable. Off by three, a little less probably still. Equivalent using a Caeser Cipher using blocks of 8? Equivalent using a hashing algorithm? Equivalent using a different hashing algorithm?
Which is to say: There is always going to be a relationship that can be found between the predicted sequence and the flipped sequence. Two points make a line, after all.
I agree with you that the probability of Alice's sequence being a sequence will always be the same, but the reason Alice's correct prediction is a difference in the two mentioned situations is because the probability of her randomly guessing correctly is so low—and may indicate something about Alice and her actions (that is, given a complete set of information regarding Alice, the probability of her correctly guessing the sequence of coin flips might be much higher).
Am I misunderstanding the point you're making w/ this example?
Substantial? No - it adds up to normality. Interesting? Yes.
Imagine two situations of equal improbability:
In one, Alice flips a coin N times in front of a crowd, and achieves some specific sequence M.
In the other, Alice flips a coin N / 2 times in front of a crowd, and achieves some specific sequence Q; she then opens an envelope, and reveals a prediction of exactly the sequence that she just flipped.
These two end results are equally improbable (both end results encode N bits of information - to see this, imagine that the envelope contained a different sequence than she flipped), but we attach significance to one result (appropriately) and not the other. What's the difference between the two situations?
I do not think these events are equally improbable (thus, equally probable).
The specific sequence, M, is some sequence in the space of all possible sequences; "... achieves some specific sequence M" is like saying "there exists an M in the space of all sequences such that N = M." That will always be true—that is, one can always retroactively say "Alice's end-result is some specific sequence."
On the other hand, it's a totally different thing to say "Alice's end-result is some specific sequence which she herself picked out before flipping the coin."
That's not the Chesterton's fence at all.
In plain words, the Chesterton's fence says that if you want to remove something because you don't understand why it's there, you should first find out why is it there.
That, as you notice, has nothing to do with "worked hard" or "took a long time".
But if I'm not mistaken the original argument around Chesterton's fence is that somebody had gone through great efforts to put a fence somewhere, and presumably would not have wasted that time if it would be useless anyway.
My response was to this statement—specifically, toward the assumption that, since someone has gone through great efforts to put a fence somewhere, it's ok to assume said fence isn't useless. I'm not seeing where my comment is inconsistent with what it's responding to (that is, I'm seeing "gone through great efforts" as synonymous with "worked hard.")
I was about to say that every time I've read of Chesterton's Fence, it seems silly, but then I decided to read Wikipedia's take on it (I do love me some Wikipedia), and came across this:
If you're considering nominating something for deletion because it doesn't appear to have any use or purpose, research its history first. You may find out why it was created, and perhaps understand that it still serves a purpose. Or if you do feel the issue it addressed is no longer valid, frame your argument for deletion.
This, to me, seems like an obvious good idea—and it also seems independent of what TheMajor was saying. My initial qualm came from the claim of why something might have unknown use (i.e. - someone "presumably would not have wasted that time if it would be useless anyway"). I don't believe this to be true, or a good thing to assume, anymore than assuming something that didn't take a large amount of effort is useless.
On the other hand, "Find out why something is in place before commenting on it, regardless of how much effort was put into it" seems much more reasonable.
[IGNORE THE ABOVE COMMENT (I don't know how to strikeout)]
Lumifer, I've interpreted your comment within the context of your implying TheMajor's statement is correct. When I think about it more, I don't think that's what you intended—and, in fact, probably intended the opposite.
Am I correct?
How very deep. But if I'm not mistaken the original argument around Chesterton's fence is that somebody had gone through great efforts to put a fence somewhere, and presumably would not have wasted that time if it would be useless anyway. In your example, "the common practice of taking down Chesterton fences", this is not the case. The general principle is to not undo that which others have worked hard for to create, unless you are certain that it is useless/counterproductive. Nobody worked hard on making sure people could remove fences without understanding them (or at the very least I'm willing to claim that this is counterproductive), so this principle is not protected.
Every time I read about Chesterton's fence, it seems like the implication is:
Because someone worked hard on something, or because a practice/custom took a long time to develop, it has a greater chance of being correct, useful, or beneficial [than someone's replacement who looks and says "This doesn't make sense"]
I think that's a terrible statement.
When someone removes a Chesterton fence without thinking about it much, what usually happens is that after a while people begin to see that there was a reason for the fence to be there. That doesn't necessarily mean that they have to put the fence back, but they do have to develop a new way to address the issues that were meant to be addressed by the fence. I expect this to happen over time with the fences that have been taken down in our current system (i.e. I think that those fences did have their reasons.)
In my experience, that's not what usually happens.
Where are you getting "that's what usually happens"?
I always maintain "If there is a quantitative difference, I sure as hell hope we never find it."
You may want to practice reciting the litany of Gendlin.
I think that'd lead to some pretty unfortunate stuff.
Mine was a little ill-thought out comment.
This does not addresses my question. The implication is "... shouldn't it follow that different races could have different brains—such that these differences are generalizable according to race?" [...] I think this implication was obvious.
In highly politically charged subjects it's very important to be explicit about your questions and not hiding your meaning in implications of your statements.
But apart from that it's not clear what the notion of generalizable differences that are not significant is supposed to mean. The standard way you would declare that a difference is generalizable is showing a stastically significant effect.
It's part of scientific reasoning to make claims that are in principle falsifiable. To do that you actually need to be precise over what you mean. There are contexts where it's okay not to practice high standards but if you want to discuss a topic like race differences that's politcally charged I think you have to practice high standards.
I guess I don't think that the meaning of my question was hidden in any significant way. This is leads me to interpret your response less as a genuine concern for specificity that lead to constructive criticism, and more as "I don't like this subject—therefore I will express disagreement with something you did to indicate that." It feels to me as if you're avoiding the subject in favor of nitpicking.
I know you knew what the actual question is because you pointed out vagueness. You knew the question you answered [Literally: Do different races have different brains?] was not the question I intended. Regardless, you didn't attempt to answer the question or really address it at all. Instead, you pointed out a way it could be misinterpreted if someone took the effort to avoid all context and assume I was asking a nonsensical question (which people do not usually do, unless there's some political-esque intent behind it).
My apologies if you have a genuine concern regarding the specificity of my question—but I implore you to try to answer the actual question, anyway.
If you look at any two people they have different brains. Even if you look at the same person at different ages they have different brains.
If you care about the issue you have to make statements that are less vague.
This does not addresses my question. The implication is "... shouldn't it follow that different races could have different brains—such that these differences are generalizable according to race?"
I think this implication was obvious. For example, if someone were to ask "Do different races typically have different skin colors?" I don't think you would answer "Different people of the same race have different skin colors. No two skin colors are exactly the same. You have to make statements that are less vague."
Edit: If, in fact, that is the way you would answer, then I'm mistaken, but I don't think that's necessary.
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It's awful. Sorry. There are probably Jehovah's Witnesses that would have had my attention for longer. In fact it's so awful that it's inviting the reader to take delight into finding ways of feeling smugly superior to the author. It's just the kind of thing to make your non-rationalist friends want to un-friend you pretty quickly.
You don't even know which were the challenges you were supposed to rise up to in this article, otherwise you'd have at least paid lip service to them. You seem to come from a place of utterly failing to understand the cause of the usual blase attitude towards super-altruism - the part of typical human psychology which makes us generally not want to take the burden of the world upon our shoulders. You have to understand that in order to argue persuasively against it. Instead you just assume the contrary as a default. You also don't understand why hard things are hard, that is, hard as in, you don't just read an essay on the internet and decide that your aversion to doing a superhuman effort towards an unlikely goal is suddenly a thing of the past. And the writing itself flows as well as nails on a chalkboard. You can almost physically feel the pat on the head.
Your friends are not going to become optimizers or effective altruists. Especially not as a result of this essay. Get over it. It's a sign that their excessive-earnestness antibodies are working well, and that they have a well-calibrated sense of perspective with respect to their likely impact on the world. Sure, it wouldn't be good morals to try to talk you out of your itch to improve the world, as it might seem like I'm doing, but at the very least you could go about it in a less socially and psychologically oblivious way, because proselytizing for weird causes is textbook How To Lose Friends and Alienate People.
Huh. Actually, I enjoyed reading it.