The Blue-Minimizing Robot
Imagine a robot with a turret-mounted camera and laser. Each moment, it is programmed to move forward a certain distance and perform a sweep with its camera. As it sweeps, the robot continuously analyzes the average RGB value of the pixels in the camera image; if the blue component passes a certain threshold, the robot stops, fires its laser at the part of the world corresponding to the blue area in the camera image, and then continues on its way.
Watching the robot's behavior, we would conclude that this is a robot that destroys blue objects. Maybe it is a surgical robot that destroys cancer cells marked by a blue dye; maybe it was built by the Department of Homeland Security to fight a group of terrorists who wear blue uniforms. Whatever. The point is that we would analyze this robot in terms of its goals, and in those terms we would be tempted to call this robot a blue-minimizer: a machine that exists solely to reduce the amount of blue objects in the world.
Suppose the robot had human level intelligence in some side module, but no access to its own source code; that it could learn about itself only through observing its own actions. The robot might come to the same conclusions we did: that it is a blue-minimizer, set upon a holy quest to rid the world of the scourge of blue objects.
But now stick the robot in a room with a hologram projector. The hologram projector (which is itself gray) projects a hologram of a blue object five meters in front of it. The robot's camera detects the projector, but its RGB value is harmless and the robot does not fire. Then the robot's camera detects the blue hologram and zaps it. We arrange for the robot to enter this room several times, and each time it ignores the projector and zaps the hologram, without effect.
Here the robot is failing at its goal of being a blue-minimizer. The right way to reduce the amount of blue in the universe is to destroy the projector; instead its beams flit harmlessly through the hologram.
Again, give the robot human level intelligence. Teach it exactly what a hologram projector is and how it works. Now what happens? Exactly the same thing - the robot executes its code, which says to scan the room until its camera registers blue, then shoot its laser.
In fact, there are many ways to subvert this robot. What if we put a lens over its camera which inverts the image, so that white appears as black, red as green, blue as yellow, and so on? The robot will not shoot us with its laser to prevent such a violation (unless we happen to be wearing blue clothes when we approach) - its entire program was detailed in the first paragraph, and there's nothing about resisting lens alterations. Nor will the robot correct itself and shoot only at objects that appear yellow - its entire program was detailed in the first paragraph, and there's nothing about correcting its program for new lenses. The robot will continue to zap objects that register a blue RGB value; but now it'll be shooting at anything that is yellow.
The human-level intelligence version of the robot will notice its vision has been inverted. It will know it is shooting yellow objects. It will know it is failing at its original goal of blue-minimization. And maybe if it had previously decided it was on a holy quest to rid the world of blue, it will be deeply horrified and ashamed of its actions. It will wonder why it has suddenly started to deviate from this quest, and why it just can't work up the will to destroy blue objects anymore.
The robot goes to Quirinus Quirrell, who explains that robots don't really care about minimizing the color blue. They only care about status and power, and pretend to care about minimizing blue in order to impress potential allies.
The robot goes to Robin Hanson, who explains that there are really multiple agents within the robot. One of them wants to minimize the color blue, the other wants to minimize the color yellow. Maybe the two of them can make peace, and agree to minimize yellow one day and blue the next?
The robot goes to Anna Salamon, who explains that robots are not automatically strategic, and that if it wants to achieve its goal it will have to learn special techniques to keep focus on it.
I think all of these explanations hold part of the puzzle, but that the most fundamental explanation is that the mistake began as soon as we started calling it a "blue-minimizing robot". This is not because its utility function doesn't exactly correspond to blue-minimization: even if we try to assign it a ponderous function like "minimize the color represented as blue within your current visual system, except in the case of holograms" it will be a case of overfitting a curve. The robot is not maximizing or minimizing anything. It does exactly what it says in its program: find something that appears blue and shoot it with a laser. If its human handlers (or itself) want to interpret that as goal directed behavior, well, that's their problem.
It may be that the robot was created to achieve a specific goal. It may be that the Department of Homeland Security programmed it to attack blue-uniformed terrorists who had no access to hologram projectors or inversion lenses. But to assign the goal of "blue minimization" to the robot is a confusion of levels: this was a goal of the Department of Homeland Security, which became a lost purpose as soon as it was represented in the form of code.
The robot is a behavior-executor, not a utility-maximizer.
In the rest of this sequence, I want to expand upon this idea. I'll start by discussing some of the foundations of behaviorism, one of the earliest theories to treat people as behavior-executors. I'll go into some of the implications for the "easy problem" of consciousness and philosophy of mind. I'll very briefly discuss the philosophical debate around eliminativism and a few eliminativist schools. Then I'll go into why we feel like we have goals and preferences and what to do about them.
If there IS alien super-inteligence in our own galaxy, then what it could be like?
For a moment lets assume there is some alien intelligent life on our galaxy which is older than us and that it have succeeded in creating super-intelligent self-modifying AI.
Then what set of values and/or goals it is plausible for it to have, given our current observations (I.e. that there is no evidence of it`s existence)?
Some examples:
It values non-interference with nature (some kind of hippie AI)
It values camouflage/stealth for it own defense/security purposes.
It just cares about exterminating their creators and nothing else.
Other thoughts?
Use unique, non-obvious terms for nuanced concepts
Naming things! Naming things is hard. It's been claimed that it's one of the hardest parts of computer science. Now, this might sound surprising, but one of my favoritely named concepts is Kahneman's System 1 and System 2.
I want you to pause for a few seconds and consider what comes to mind when you read just the bolded phrase above.
Got it?
If you're familiar with the concepts of S1 and S2, then you probably have a pretty rich sense of what I'm talking about. Or perhaps you have a partial notion: "I think it was about..." or something. If you've never been exposed to the concept, then you probably have no idea.
Now, Kahneman could have reasonably named these systems lots of other things, like "emotional cognition" and "rational cognition"... or "fast, automatic thinking" and "slow, deliberate thinking". But now imagine that it had been "emotional and rational cognition" that Kahneman had written about, and the effect on the earlier paragraph.
It would be about the same for those who had studied it in depth, but now those who had heard about it briefly (or maybe at one point knew about the concepts) would be reminded of that one particular contrast between S1 and S2 (emotion/reason) and be primed to think that was the main one, forgetting about all of the other parameters that that distinction seeks to describe. Those who had never heard of Kahneman's research might assume that they basically knew what the terms were about, because they already have a sense of what emotion and reason are.
This is related to a concept known as overshadowing, when a verbal description of a scene can cause eyewitnesses to misremember the details of the scene. Words can disrupt lots of other things too, including our ability to think clearly about concepts.
An example of this in action is Ask and Guess Culture model (and later Tell, and Reveal). People who are trying to use the models become hugely distracted by the particular names of the entities in the model, which only have a rough bearing on the nuanced elements of these cultures. Even after thinking about this a ton myself, I still found myself accidentally assuming that questions an Ask Culture thing.
So "System 1" and "System 2" have several advantages:
- they don't immediately and easily seem like you already understand them if you haven't been exposed to that particular source
- they don't overshadow people who do know them into assuming that the names contain the most important features
Another example that I think is decent (though not as clean as S1/S2) is Scott Alexander's use of Red Tribe and Blue Tribe to refer to culture clusters that roughly correspond to right and left political leanings in the USA. (For readers in most other countries: the US has their colors backwards... blue is left wing and red is right wing.) The colors make it reasonably easy to associate and remember, but unless you've read the post (or talked with someone who has) you won't necessarily know the jargon.
Jargon vs in-jokes
All of the examples I've listed above are essentially jargon—terminology that isn't available to the general public. I'm generally in favour of jargon! If you want to precisely and concisely convey a concept that doesn't already have its own word, then you have two options.
"Coining new jargon words (neologisms) is an alternative to formulating unusually precise meanings of commonly-heard words when one needs to convey a specific meaning." — fubarobfusco on a LW thread
Doing the latter is often safe when you're in a technical context. "Energy" is a colloquial term, but it also has a precise technical meaning. Since in technical contexts, people will tend assume that all such terms have technical meanings (or even learn said meanings early on) there is little risk of confusion here. Usually.
I'm going to make a case that it's worth treating nuanced concepts like in-jokes: don't make the meaning feel like it's in the term. Now, I'm not sold that this is a good idea all the time, but it seems to have some merit to it. I'm interested in where it works and where it doesn't; don't take this article to suggest I think it's unilaterally good. Let's jam on where it's good.
Communication is built on shared understanding. Much of this comes from the commons: almost all of words you're reading in this blog posts are not words that you and I had to guarantee we both understood with each other, before I could write the post. Sometimes, blog posts (or books, lectures, etc) will contain definitions, or will try to triangulate a concept with examples. The author hopes that the reader will indeed have a similar handle on the word they're using after reading the definition. (The reader may not, of course. Also they they might think they do. Or be confused.)
When you have the chance to interact with someone in real-time, 1-on-1, you can often gauge their understanding because they'll try to paraphrase the thing, and you can usually tell if the thing that they say is the kind of thing someone who understood would say. This is great, because then you can feel confident that you can use that concept as a building block in explaining further concepts.
One common failure mode of communication is when people assume that they're using the same building blocks as each other, when in fact, they're using importantly different concepts. The is the issue that rationalist taboo is designed to combat: forbid use of a confounding word and force the conversationalists to build the concept up from component parts again.
Another way to reduce the occurrence of this sort of thing is to use jargon and in-jokes, because then the person is going to draw a blank if they don't already have the shared understanding. Since you had to be there, and if you weren't, something key is obviously missing.
I once had a long conversation with someone, and we ended up using a lot of the objects we had with us as props when explaining certain concepts. This had the curious effect that if we wanted to reference our shared understanding of the earlier concept, we could refer to the object and it became really clear that it was our shared understanding we were referencing, not some more general thing. So I could say "the banana thing" to refer to him having explored the notion that evilness is a property of the map, not the territory, by remarking that a banana can't be evil but that we can think it evil.
The important thing here is that it felt like it was easier to point clearly at that topic by saying "the banana thing", because we both knew what that was and didn't need to accidentally overshadow it, by saying "the objects aren't evil thing" which might eventually get turned into a catchphrase that seems to contain meaning but never actually contained the critical insight.
This prompted me to think that it might be valuable to buy a bunch of toys from a thrift store, and to keep them at hand when hanging out with a particular person or small group. When you have a concept to explore, you'd grab an unused toy that seemed to suit it decently well, and then you'd gesture with it while explaining the concept. Then later you could refer to "the pink sparkly ball thing" or simply "this thing" while gesturing at the ball. Possibly, the other person wouldn't remember, or not immediately. But if they did, you could be much more confident that you were on the same page. It's a kind of shared mnemonic handle.

In some ways, this is already a natural part of human communication: I recall years ago talking to a friend and saying "oh, it's like the thing we talked about on my porch last summer" and she immediately knew what I meant. I'm basically proposing to take it further, by using props or by inventing new words.
Unfortunately, terms often end up losing their nuance, for various reasons. Sometimes this happens because the small concept they were trying to point at happens to be surrounded by a vacuum, so it expands. Other times because of shibboleths and people wanting to use in-group words. Or the words are used playfully and poetically, for humor purposes, which then makes it less clear that they once had a precise meaning.
This suggests there might be a kind of terminological inflation thing going on. And to the extent that signalling by using jargon is anti-inductive, that'll dilute things too.
I think if you're trying to think complex thoughts, it's worth developing specialized language, not just with groups of people, but even in 1-on-1 contexts. Of course, pay attention so you don't use terms with people who totally don't know them.
And this, this developing of shared language beyond what's strictly necessary but still worthwhile... this, perhaps, we might call the pink and purple ball thing.
(this article crossposted from malcolmocean.com)
The map of quantum (big world) immortality
The main idea of quantum (the name "big world immortality" may be better) is that if I die, I will continue to exist in another branch of the world, where I will not die in the same situation.
This map is not intended to cover all known topics about QI, so I need to clarify my position.
I think that QI may work, but I put it as Plan D for achieving immortality, after life extension(A), cryonics(B) and digital immortality(C). All plans are here.
I also think that it may be proved experimentally, namely that if I turn 120 years or will be only survivor in plane crash I will assign higher probability to it. (But you should not try to prove it before as you will get this information for free in next 100 years.)
There is also nothing quantum in quantum immortality, because it may work in very large non-quantum world, if it is large enough to have my copies. It was also discussed here: Shock level 5: Big worlds and modal realism.
There is nothing good in it also, because most of my survived branches will be very old and ill. But we could use QI to work for us, if we combine it with cryonics. Just sign up for it or have an idea to sign up, and most likely you will find your self in survived branch where you will be resurrected after cryostasis. (The same is true for digital immortality - record more about your self and future FAI will resurrect you, and QI rises chances of it.)
I do not buy "measure" objection. It said that one should care only about his "measure of existence", that is the number of all branches there he exists, and if this number diminish, he is almost dead. But if we take an example of a book, it still exist until at least one copy of it exist. We also can't measure the measure, because it is not clear how to count branches in infinite universe.
I also don't buy ethical objection that QI may lead unstable person to suicide and so we should claim that QI is false. I think that rational understanding of QI is that it or not work, or will result in severe injuries. The idea of soul existence may result in much stronger temptation to suicide as it at least promise another better world, but I never heard that it was hidden because it may result in suicide. Religions try to stop suicide (which is logical in their premises) by adding additional rule against it. So, QI itself is not promoting suicide and personal instability may be the main course of suicidal ideation.
I also think that it is nothing extraordinary in QI idea, and it adds up to normality (in immediate surroundings). We all already witness to examples of similar ideas. That is the anthropic principle and the fact that we found ourselves on habitable planet while most planets are dead. And the fact that I was born, but not my billions potential siblings. Survivalship bias could explain finding one self in very improbable conditions and QI is the same idea projected in the future.
The possibility of big world immortality depends on size of the world and of nature of “I”, that is the personal identity problem solution. This table show how big world immortality depends on these two variables. YES means that big world immortality will work, NO means that it will not work.
Both variables are unknown to us currently. Simply speaking, QI will not work if (actually existing) world is small or if personal identity is very fragile.
My apriori position is that quantum multiverse and very big universe are both true, and that information is all you need for personal identity. This position is most scientific one, as it correlate with current common knowledge about Universe and mind. If I could bet on theories, I would bet on it 50 per cent, and 50 per cent on all other combination of theories.
Even in this case QI may not work. It may work technically, but become unmeasurable, if my mind will suffer so much damage that it will be unable to understand that it works. In this case it will be completely useless, the same way as survival of atoms from which my body is composed is meaningless. But this maybe objected, if we say that only my copies that remember that me is me should be counted (and such copies will surely exist).
From practical point of view QI may help if everything failed, but we can't count on it as it completely unpredictable. QI should be considered only in context of other world-changing ideas, that is simulation argument, doomsday argument, future strong AI.

Upcoming LW Changes
Thanks to the reaction to this article and some conversations, I'm convinced that it's worth trying to renovate and restore LW. Eliezer, Nate, and Matt Fallshaw are all on board and have empowered me as an editor to see what we can do about reshaping LW to meet what the community currently needs. This involves a combination of technical changes and social changes, which we'll try to make transparently and non-intrusively.
Simulations Map: what is the most probable type of the simulation in which we live?
There is a chance that we may be living in a computer simulation created by an AI or a future super-civilization. The goal of the simulations map is to depict an overview of all possible simulations. It will help us to estimate the distribution of other multiple simulations inside it along with their measure and probability. This will help us to estimate the probability that we are in a simulation and – if we are – the kind of simulation it is and how it could end.
Simulation argument
The simulation map is based on Bostrom’s simulation argument. Bostrom showed that that “at least one of the following propositions is true:
(1) the human species is very likely to go extinct before reaching a “posthuman” stage;
(2) any posthuman civilization is extremely unlikely to run a significant number of simulations of their evolutionary history (or variations thereof);
(3) we are almost certainly living in a computer simulation”. http://www.simulation-argument.com/simulation.html
The third proposition is the strongest one, because (1) requires that not only human civilization but almost all other technological civilizations should go extinct before they can begin simulations, because non-human civilizations could model human ones and vice versa. This makes (1) extremely strong universal conjecture and therefore very unlikely to be true. It requires that all possible civilizations will kill themselves before they create AI, but we can hardly even imagine such a universal course. If destruction is down to dangerous physical experiments, some civilizations may live in universes with different physics; if it is down to bioweapons, some civilizations would have enough control to prevent them.
In the same way, (2) requires that all super-civilizations with AI will refrain from creating simulations, which is unlikely.
Feasibly there could be some kind of universal physical law against the creation of simulations, but such a law is impossible, because some kinds of simulations already exist, for example human dreaming. During human dreaming very precise simulations of the real world are created (which can’t be distinguished from the real world from within – that is why lucid dreams are so rare). So, we could conclude that after small genetic manipulations it is possible to create a brain that will be 10 times more capable of creating dreams than an ordinary human brain. Such a brain could be used for the creation of simulations and strong AI surely will find more effective ways of doing it. So simulations are technically possible (and qualia is no problem for them as we have qualia in dreams).
Any future strong AI (regardless of whether it is FAI or UFAI) should run at least several million simulations in order to solve the Fermi paradox and to calculate the probability of the appearance of other AIs on other planets, and their possible and most typical goal systems. AI needs this in order to calculate the probability of meeting other AIs in the Universe and the possible consequences of such meetings.
As a result a priory estimation of me being in a simulation is very high, possibly 1000000 to 1. The best chance of lowering this estimation is to find some flaws in the argument, and possible flaws are discussed below.
Most abundant classes of simulations
If we live in a simulation, we are going to be interested in knowing the kind of simulation it is. Probably we belong to the most abundant class of simulations, and to find it we need a map of all possible simulations; an attempt to create one is presented here.
There are two main reasons for simulation domination: goal and price. Some goals require the creation of very large number of simulations, so such simulations will dominate. Also cheaper and simpler simulations are more likely to be abundant.
Eitan_Zohar suggested http://lesswrong.com/r/discussion/lw/mh6/you_are_mostly_a_simulation/ that FAI will deliberately create an almost infinite number of simulations in order to dominate the total landscape and to ensure that most people will find themselves inside FAI controlled simulations, which will be better for them as in such simulations unbearable suffering can be excluded. (If in the infinite world an almost infinite number of FAIs exist, each of them could not change the landscape of simulation distribution, because its share in all simulations would be infinitely small. So we need a casual trade between an infinite number of FAIs to really change the proportion of simulations. I can't say that it is impossible, but it may be difficult.)
Another possible largest subset of simulations is the one created for leisure and for the education of some kind of high level beings.
The cheapest simulations are simple, low-resolution and me-simulations (one real actor, with the rest of the world around him like a backdrop), similar to human dreams. I assume here that simulations are distributed as the same power law as planets, cars and many other things: smaller and cheaper ones are more abundant.
Simulations could also be laid on one another in so-called Matryoshka simulations where one simulated civilization is simulating other civilizations. The lowest level of any Matryoshka system will be the most populated. If it is a Matryoshka simulation, which consists of historical simulations, the simulation levels in it will be in descending time order, for example the 24th century civilization models the 23rd century one, which in turn models the 22nd century one, which itself models the 21st century simulation. A simulation in a Matryoshka will end on the level where creation of the next level is impossible. The beginning of 21st century simulations will be the most abundant class in Matryoshka simulations (similar to our time period.)
Argument against simulation theory
There are several possible objections against the Simulation argument, but I find them not strong enough to do it.
1. Measure
The idea of measure was introduced to quantify the extent of the existence of something, mainly in quantum universe theories. While we don’t know how to actually measure “the measure”, the idea is based on intuition that different observers have different powers of existence, and as a result I could find myself to be one of them with a different probability. For example, if we have three functional copies of me, one of them is the real person, another is a hi-res simulation and the third one is low-res simulation, are my chances of being each of them equal (1/3)?
The «measure» concept is the most fragile element of all simulation arguments. It is based mostly on the idea that all copies have equal measure. But perhaps measure also depends on the energy of calculations. If we have a computer which is using 10 watts of energy to calculate an observer, it may be presented as two parallel computers which are using five watts each. These observers may be divided again until we reach the minimum amount of energy required for calculations, which could be called «Plank observer». In this case our initial 10 watt computer will be equal to – for example – one billion plank observers.
And here we see a great difference in the case of simulations, because simulation creators have to spend less energy on calculations (or it would be easier to make real world experiments). But in this case such simulations will have a lower measure. But if the total number of all simulations is large, then the total measure of all simulations will still be higher than the measure of real worlds. But if most real worlds end with global catastrophe, the result would be an even higher proportion of real worlds which could outweigh simulations after all.
2. Universal AI catastrophe
One possible universal global catastrophe could happen where a civilization develops an AI-overlord, but any AI will meet some kind of unresolvable math and philosophical problems which will terminate it at its early stages, before it can create many simulations. See an overview of this type of problem in my map “AI failures level”.
3. Universal ethics
Another idea is that all AIs converge to some kind of ethics and decision theory which prevent them from creating simulations, or they create p-zombie simulations only. I am skeptical about that.
4. Infinity problems
If everything possible exists or if the universe is infinite (which are equal statements) the proportion between two infinite sets is meaningless. We could overcome this conjecture using the idea of mathematical limit: if we take a bigger universe and longer periods of time, the simulations will be more and more abundant within them.
But in all cases, in the infinite universe any world exists an infinite number of times, and this means that my copies exist in real worlds an infinite number of times, regardless of whether I am in a simulation or not.
5. Non-uniform measure over Universe (actuality)
Contemporary physics is based on the idea that everything that exists, exists in equal sense, meaning that the Sun and very remote stars have the same measure of existence, even in casually separated regions of the universe. But if our region of space-time is somehow more real, it may change simulation distribution which will favor real worlds.
6. Flux universe
The same copies of me exist in many different real and simulated worlds. In simple form it means that the notion that “I am in one specific world” is meaningless, but the distribution of different interpretations of the world is reflected in the probabilities of different events.
E.g. the higher the chances that I am in a simulation, the bigger the probability that I will experience some kind of miracles during my lifetime. (Many miracles almost prove that you are in simulation, like flying in dreams.) But here correlation is not causation.
The stronger version of the same principle implies that I am one in many different worlds, and I could manipulate the probability of finding myself in a set of possible worlds, basically by forgetting who I am and becoming equal to a larger set of observers. It may work without any new physics, it only requires changing the number of similar observers, and if such observers are Turing computer programs, they could manipulate their own numbers quite easily.
Higher levels of flux theory do require new physics or at least quantum mechanics in a many worlds interpretation. In it different interpretations of the world outside of the observer could interact with each other or experience some kind of interference.
See further discussion about a flux universe here: http://lesswrong.com/lw/mgd/the_consequences_of_dust_theory/
7. Bolzmann brains outweigh simulations
It may turn out that BBs outweigh both real worlds and simulations. This may not be a problem from a planning point of view because most BBs correspond to some real copies of me.
But if we take this approach to solve the BBs problem, we will have to use it in the simulation problem as well, meaning: "I am not in a simulation because for any simulation, there exists a real world with the same “me”. It is counterintuitive.
Simulation and global risks
Simulations may be switched off or may simulate worlds which are near global catastrophe. Such worlds may be of special interest for future AI because they help to model the Fermi paradox and they are good for use as games.
Miracles in simulations
The map also has blocks about types of simulation hosts, about many level simulations, plus ethics and miracles in simulations.
The main point about simulation is that it disturbs the random distribution of observers. In the real world I would find myself in mediocre situations, but simulations are more focused on special events and miracles (think about movies, dreams and novels). The more interesting my life is, the less chance that it is real.
If we are in simulation we should expect more global risks, strange events and miracles, so being in a simulation is changing our probability expectation of different occurrences.
This map is parallel to the Doomsday argument map.
Estimations given in the map of the number of different types of simulation or required flops are more like place holders, and may be several orders of magnitude higher or lower.
I think that this map is rather preliminary and its main conclusions may be updated many times.
The pdf of the map is here, and jpg is below.
Previous posts with maps:
A map: AI failures modes and levels
A Roadmap: How to Survive the End of the Universe
A map: Typology of human extinction risks
Roadmap: Plan of Action to Prevent Human Extinction Risks

A map of LWers - find members of the community living near you.
There seems to be a lot of enthusiasm around LessWrong meetups, so I thought something like this might be interesting too. There is no need to register - just add your marker and keep an eye out for someone living near you.
Here's the link: https://www.zeemaps.com/map?group=1323143
I posted this on an Open Thread first. Below are some observations based on the previous discussion:
When creating a new marker you will be given a special URL you can use to edit it later. If you lose it, you can create a new one and ask me to delete the old marker. Try not to lose it though.
If someone you tried to contact is unreachable, notify me and I'll delete the marker in order to keep the map tidy. Also, try to keep your own marker updated.
It was suggested that it would be a good idea to circulate the map around survey time. I'll try to remind everyone to update their markers around that time. Any major changes (e.g. changing admin, switching services, remaking the map to eliminate dead markers) will also happen then.
The map data can be exported by anyone, so there's no need to start over if I disappear or whatever.
Edit: Please, you have to make it possible to contact you. If you choose to use a name that doesn't match your LW account, you have to add an email address or equivalent. If you don't do that, it is assumed that the name on the marker is your username here, but if it isn't you are essentially unreachable and will be removed.
Polling Thread January 2016
The next installment of the Polling Thread.
This is your chance to ask your multiple choice question you always wanted to throw in. Get qualified numeric feedback to your comments. Post fun polls.
These are the rules:
- Each poll goes into its own top level comment and may be commented there.
- You must at least vote all polls that were posted earlier than you own. This ensures participation in all polls and also limits the total number of polls. You may of course vote without posting a poll.
- Your poll should include a 'don't know' option (to avoid conflict with 2). I don't know whether we need to add a troll catch option here but we will see.
If you don't know how to make a poll in a comment look at the Poll Markup Help.
This is a somewhat regular thread. If it is successful I may post again. Or you may. In that case do the following :
- Use "Polling Thread" in the title.
- Copy the rules.
- Add the tag "poll".
- Link to this Thread or a previous Thread.
- Create a top-level comment saying 'Discussion of this thread goes here; all other top-level comments should be polls or similar'
- Add a second top-level comment with an initial poll to start participation.
The Number Choosing Game: Against the existence of perfect theoretical rationality
In order to ensure that this post delivers what it promises, I have added the following content warnings:
Content Notes:
Pure Hypothetical Situation: The claim that perfect theoretical rationality doesn't exist is restricted to a purely hypothetical situation. No claim is being made that this applies to the real world. If you are only interested in how things apply to the real world, then you may be disappointed to find out that this is an exercise left to the reader.
Technicality Only Post: This post argues that perfectly theoretical rationality doesn't exist due to a technicality. If you were hoping for this post to deliver more, well, you'll probably be disappointed.
Contentious Definition: This post (roughly) defines perfect rationality as the ability to maximise utility. This is based on Wikipedia, which defines rational agents as an agent that: "always chooses to perform the action with the optimal expected outcome for itself from among all feasible actions".
We will define the number choosing game as follows. You name any single finite number x. You then gain x utility and the game then ends. You can only name a finite number, naming infinity is not allowed.
Clearly, the agent that names x+1 is more rational than the agent that names x (and behaves the same in every other situation). However, there does not exist a completely rational agent, because there does not exist a number that is higher than every other number. Instead, the agent who picks 1 is less rational than the agent who picks 2 who is less rational than the agent who picks 3 and so on until infinity. There exists an infinite series of increasingly rational agents, but no agent who is perfectly rational within this scenario.
Furthermore, this hypothetical doesn't take place in our universe, but in a hypothetical universe where we are all celestial beings with the ability to choose any number however large without any additional time or effort no matter how long it would take a human to say that number. Since this statement doesn't appear to have been clear enough (judging from the comments), we are explicitly considering a theoretical scenario and no claims are being made about how this might or might not carry over to the real world. In other words, I am claiming the the existence of perfect rationality does not follow purely from the laws of logic. If you are going to be difficult and argue that this isn't possible and that even hypothetical beings can only communicate a finite amount of information, we can imagine that there is a device that provides you with utility the longer that you speak and that the utility it provides you is exactly equal to the utility you lose by having to go to the effort to speak, so that overall you are indifferent to the required speaking time.
In the comments, MattG suggested that the issue was that this problem assumed unbounded utility. That's not quite the problem. Instead, we can imagine that you can name any number less than 100, but not 100 itself. Further, as above, saying a long number either doesn't cost you utility or you are compensated for it. Regardless of whether you name 99 or 99.9 or 99.9999999, you are still choosing a suboptimal decision. But if you never stop speaking, you don't receive any utility at all.
I'll admit that in our universe there is a perfectly rational option which balances speaking time against the utility you gain given that we only have a finite lifetime and that you want to try to avoid dying in the middle of speaking the number which would result in no utility gained. However, it is still notable that a perfectly rational being cannot exist within a hypothetical universe. How exactly this result applies to our universe isn't exactly clear, but that's the challenge I'll set for the comments. Are there any realistic scenarios where the lack of existence of perfect rationality has important practical applications?
Furthermore, there isn't an objective line between rational and irrational. You or I might consider someone who chose the number 2 to be stupid. Why not at least go for a million or a billion? But, such a person could have easily gained a billion, billion, billion utility. No matter how high a number they choose, they could have always gained much, much more without any difference in effort.
I'll finish by providing some examples of other games. I'll call the first game the Exploding Exponential Coin Game. We can imagine a game where you can choose to flip a coin any number of times. Initially you have 100 utility. Every time it comes up heads, your utility triples, but if it comes up tails, you lose all your utility. Furthermore, let's assume that this agent isn't going to raise the Pascal's Mugging objection. We can see that the agent's expected utility will increase the more times they flip the coin, but if they commit to flipping it unlimited times, they can't possibly gain any utility. Just as before, they have to pick a finite number of times to flip the coin, but again there is no objective justification for stopping at any particular point.
Another example, I'll call the Unlimited Swap game. At the start, one agent has an item worth 1 utility and another has an item worth 2 utility. At each step, the agent with the item worth 1 utility can choose to accept the situation and end the game or can swap items with the other player. If they choose to swap, then the player who now has the 1 utility item has an opportunity to make the same choice. In this game, waiting forever is actually an option. If your opponents all have finite patience, then this is the best option. However, there is a chance that your opponent has infinite patience too. In this case you'll both miss out on the 1 utility as you will wait forever. I suspect that an agent could do well by having a chance of waiting forever, but also a chance of stopping after a high finite number. Increasing this finite number will always make you do better, but again, there is no maximum waiting time.
(This seems like such an obvious result, I imagine that there's extensive discussion of it within the game theory literature somewhere. If anyone has a good paper that would be appreciated).
Link to part 2: Consequences of the Non-Existence of Rationality
The art of grieving well
[This is one post I've written in an upcoming sequence on what I call "yin". Yin, in short, is the sub-art of giving perception of truth absolutely no resistance as it updates your implicit world-model. Said differently, it's the sub-art of subconsciously seeking out and eliminating ugh fields and also eliminating the inclination to form them in the first place. This is the first piece I wrote, and I think it stands on its own, but it probably won't be the first post in the final sequence. My plan is to flesh out the sequence and then post a guide to yin giving the proper order. I'm posting the originals on my blog, and you can view the original of this post here, but my aim is to post a final sequence here on Less Wrong.]
In this post, I'm going to talk about grief. And sorrow. And the pain of loss.
I imagine this won't be easy for you, my dear reader. And I wish I could say that I'm sorry for that.
…but I'm not.
I think there's a skill to seeing horror clearly. And I think we need to learn how to see horror clearly if we want to end it.
This means that in order to point at the skill, I need to also point at real horror, to show how it works.
So, I'm not sorry that I will make you uncomfortable if I succeed at conveying my thoughts here. I imagine I have to.
Instead, I'm sorry that we live in a universe where this is necessary.
If you Google around, you'll find all kinds of lists of what to say and avoid saying to a grieving person. For reasons I'll aim to make clear later on, I want to focus for a moment on some of the things not to say. Here are a few from Grief.com:
- "He is in a better place."
- "There is a reason for everything."
- "I know how you feel."
- "Be strong."
I can easily imagine someone saying things like this with the best of intentions. They see someone they care about who is suffering greatly, and they want to help.
But to the person who has experienced a loss, these are very unpleasant to hear. The discomfort is often pre-verbal and can be difficult to articulate, especially when in so much pain. But a fairly common theme is something like:
"Don't heave your needs on me. I'm too tired and in too much pain to help you."
If you've never experienced agonizing loss, this might seem really confusing at first — which is why it seems tempting to say those things in the first place, I think. But try assuming that the grieving person sees the situation more clearly, and see if you can make sense of this reaction before reading on.
…
…
…
If you look at the bulleted statements above, there's a way of reading them that says "You're suffering. Maybe try this, to stop your suffering." There's an imposition there, telling the grieving person to add more burden to how they are in the moment. In many cases, the implicit request to stop suffering comes from the speaker's discomfort with the griever's pain, so an uncharitable (but sometimes accurate) read of those statements is "I don't like it when you hurt, so stop hurting."
Notice that the person who lost someone doesn't have to think through all this. They just see it, directly, and emotionally respond. They might not even be able to say why others' comments feel like impositions, but there's very little doubt that they do. It's just that social expectations take so much energy, and the grief is already so much to carry, that it's hard not to notice.
There's only energy for what really, actually matters.
And, it turns out, not much matters when you hurt that much.
I'd like to suggest that grieving is how we experience the process of a very, very deep part of our psyches becoming familiar with a painful truth. It doesn't happen only when someone dies. For instance, people go through a very similar process when mourning the loss of a romantic relationship, or when struck with an injury or illness that takes away something they hold dear (e.g., quadriplegia). I think we even see smaller versions of it when people break a precious and sentimental object, or when they fail to get a job or into a school they had really hoped for, or even sometimes when getting rid of a piece of clothing they've had for a few years.
In general, I think familiarization looks like tracing over all the facets of the thing in question until we intuitively expect what we find. I'm particularly fond of the example of arriving in a city for the first time: At first all I know is the part of the street right in front of where I'm staying. Then, as I wander around, I start to notice a few places I want to remember: the train station, a nice coffee shop, etc. After a while of exploring different alleyways, I might make a few connections and notice that the coffee shop is actually just around the corner from that nice restaurant I went to on my second night there. Eventually the city (or at least those parts of it) start to feel smaller to me, like the distances between familiar locations are shorter than I had first thought, and the areas I can easily think of now include several blocks rather than just parts of streets.
I'm under the impression that grief is doing a similar kind of rehearsal, but specifically of pain. When we lose someone or something precious to us, it hurts, and we have to practice anticipating the lack of the preciousness where it had been before. We have to familiarize ourselves with the absence.
When I watch myself grieve, I typically don't find myself just thinking "This person is gone." Instead, my grief wants me to call up specific images of recurring events — holding the person while watching a show, texting them a funny picture & getting a smiley back, etc. — and then add to that image a feeling of pain that might say "…and that will never happen again." My mind goes to the feeling of wanting to watch a show with that person and remembering they're not there, or knowing that if I send a text they'll never see it and won't ever respond. My mind seems to want to rehearse the pain that will happen, until it becomes familiar and known and eventually a little smaller.
I think grieving is how we experience the process of changing our emotional sense of what's true to something worse than where we started.
Unfortunately, that can feel on the inside a little like moving to the worse world, rather than recognizing that we're already here.
It looks to me like it's possible to resist grief, at least to some extent. I think people do it all the time. And I think it's an error to do so.
If I'm carrying something really heavy and it slips and drops on my foot, I'm likely to yelp. My initial instinct once I yank my foot free might be to clutch my foot and grit my teeth and swear. But in doing so, even though it seems I'm focusing on the pain, I think it's more accurate to say that I'm distracting myself from the pain. I'm too busy yelling and hopping around to really experience exactly what the pain feels like.
I could instead turn my mind to the pain, and look at it in exquisite detail. Where exactly do I feel it? Is it hot or cold? Is it throbbing or sharp or something else? What exactly is the most aversive aspect of it? This doesn't stop the experience of pain, but it does stop most of my inclination to jump and yell and get mad at myself for dropping the object in the first place.
I think the first three so-called "stages of grief" — denial, anger, and bargaining — are avoidance behaviors. They're attempts to distract oneself from the painful emotional update. Denial is like trying to focus on anything other than the hurt foot, anger is like clutching and yelling and getting mad at the situation, and bargaining is like trying to rush around and bandage the foot and clean up the blood. In each case, there's an attempt to keep the mind preoccupied so that it can't start the process of tracing the pain and letting the agonizing-but-true world come to feel true. It's as though there's a part of the psyche that believes it can prevent the horror from being real by avoiding coming to feel as though it's real.
The above might seem kind of abstract, so let me list a very few examples that I think do in fact apply to resisting grief:
- After a breakup, someone might refuse to talk about their ex and insist that no one around them bring up their ex. They might even start dating a lot more right away (the "rebound" phenomenon, or dismissive-avoidant dating patterns). They might insist on acting like their ex doesn't exist, for months, and show flashes of intense anger when they find a lost sweater under their bed that had belonged to the ex.
- While trying to finish a project for a major client (or an important class assignment, if a student), a person might realize that they simply don't have the time they need, and start to panic. They might pour all their time into it, even while knowing on some level that they can't finish on time, but trying desperately anyway as though to avoid looking at the inevitability of their meaningful failure.
- The homophobia of the stereotypical gay man in denial looks to me like a kind of distraction. The painful truth for him here is that he is something he thinks it is wrong to be, so either his morals or his sense of who he is must die a little. Both are agonizing, too much for him to handle, so instead he clutches his metaphorical foot and screams.
In every case, the part of the psyche driving the behavior seems to think that it can hold the horror at bay by preventing the emotional update that the horror is real. The problem is, success requires severely distorting your ability to see what is real, and also your desire to see what's real. This is a cognitive black hole — what I sometimes call a "metacognitive blindspot" — from which it is enormously difficult to return.
This means that if we want to see reality clearly, we have to develop some kind of skill that lets us grieve well — without resistance, without flinching, without screaming to the sky with declarations of war as a distraction from our pain.
We have to be willing to look directly and unwaveringly at horror.
In 2014, my marriage died.
A friend warned me that I might go through two stages of grief: one for the loss of the relationship, and one for the loss of our hoped-for future together.
She was exactly right.
The second one hit me really abruptly. I had been feeling solemn and glum since the previous night, and while riding public transit I found myself crying. Specific imagined futures — of children, of holidays, of traveling together — would come up, as though raising the parts that hurt the most and saying "See this, and wish it farewell."
The pain was so much. I spent most of that entire week just moving around slowly, staring off into space, mostly not caring about things like email or regular meetings.
Two things really stand out for me from that experience.
First, there were still impulses to flinch away. I wanted to cry about how the pain was too much to bear and curl up in a corner — but I could tell that impulse came from a different place in my psyche than the grief did. It felt easier to do that, like I was trading some of my pain for suffering instead and could avoid being present to my own misery. I had worked enough with grief at that point to intuit that I needed to process or digest the pain, and that this slow process would go even more slowly if I tried not to experience it. It required a choice, every moment, to keep my focus on what hurt rather than on how much it hurt or how unfair things were or any other story that decreased the pain I felt in that moment. And it was tiring to make that decision continuously.
Second, there were some things I did feel were important, even in that state. At the start of this post I referenced how mourners can sometimes see others' motives more plainly than those others can. What I imagine is the same thing gave me a clear sense of how much nonsense I waste my time on — how most emails don't matter, most meetings are pointless, most curriculum design thoughts amount to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. I also vividly saw how much nonsense I project about who I am and what my personal story is — including the illusions I would cast on myself. Things like how I thought I needed people to admire me to feel motivated, or how I felt most powerful when championing the idea of ending aging. These stories looked embarrassingly false, and I just didn't have the energy to keep lying to myself about them.
What was left, after tearing away the dross, was simple and plain and beautiful in its nakedness. I felt like I was just me, and there were a very few things that still really mattered. And, even while drained and mourning for the lovely future that would never be, I found myself working on those core things. I could send emails, but they had to matter, and they couldn't be full of blather. They were richly honest and plain and simply directed at making the actually important things happen.
It seems to me that grieving well isn't just a matter of learning to look at horror without flinching. It also lets us see through certain kinds of illusion, where we think things matter but at some level have always known they don't.
I think skillful grief can bring us more into touch with our faculty of seeing the world plainly as we already know it to be.
I think we, as a species, dearly need to learn to see the world clearly.
A humanity that makes global warming a politicized debate, with name-calling and suspicion of data fabrication, is a humanity that does not understand what is at stake.
A world that waits until its baby boomers are doomed to die of aging before taking aging seriously has not understood the scope of the problem and is probably still approaching it with distorted thinking.
A species that has great reason to fear human-level artificial intelligence and does not pause to seriously figure out what if anything is correct to do about it (because "that's silly" or "the Terminator is just fiction") has not understood just how easily it can go horribly wrong.
Each one of these cases is bad enough — but these are just examples of the result of collectively distorted thinking. We will make mistakes this bad, and possibly worse, again and again as long as we are willing to let ourselves turn our awareness away from our own pain. As long as the world feels safer to us than it actually is, we will risk obliterating everything we care about.
There is hope for immense joy in our future. We have conquered darkness before, and I think we can do so again.
But doing so requires that we see the world clearly.
And the world has devastatingly more horror in it than most people seem willing to acknowledge.
The path of clear seeing is agonizing — but that is because of the truth, not because of the path. We are in a kind of hell, and avoiding seeing that won't make it less true.
But maybe, if we see it clearly, we can do something about it.
Grieve well, and awaken.
Subscribe to RSS Feed
= f037147d6e6c911a85753b9abdedda8d)