I've been reading the hardcover SSC collection in the mornings, as a way of avoiding getting caught up in internet distractions first thing when I get up. I'd read many of Scott Alexander's posts before, but nowhere near everything posted; and I hadn't before made any attempt to dive the archives to "catch up" to the seeming majority of rationalists who have read everything Scott Alexander has ever written.
(The hardcover SSC collection is nowhere near everything on SSC, not to mention Scott's earlier squid314 blog on livejournal. I'm curious how much shelf space a more complete anthology would occupy.)
Anyway, this has gotten me thinking about the character of Scott Alexander's writing. I once remarked (at a LessWrong meetup) that Scott Alexander "could never be a cult leader". I intended this as a sort of criticism. Scott Alexander doesn't write with conviction in the same way some other prominent rationalist authors do. He usually has the attitude of a bemused bystander who is merely curious about a bunch of things. Some others in the group agreed with me, but took it as praise: compared to some other rationalist authors, Scott Alexander isn't an ideologue.
(now I fear 90% of the comments are going to be some variation of "cults are bad")
What I didn't realize (at the time) was how obsessed Scott Alexander himself is with this distinction. Many of his posts grapple with variations on question of just how seriously we can take our ideas without going insane, contrasting the holy madman in the desert (who takes ideas 100% seriously) with the detached academic (who takes an intellectual interest in philosophy without applying it to life).
- Beware Isolated Demands for Rigor is the post which introduces and seriously fleshes out this distinction. Scott says the holy madman and the detached academic are two valid extremes, because both of them are consistent in how they call for principles to be applied (the first always applies their intellectual standards to everything; the second never does). What's invalid is when you use intellectual standards as a tool to get whatever you want, by applying the standards selectively.
- Infinite Debt forges a middle path, praising Giving What We Can for telling people that you can just give 10% to charity and be an "Officially Recognized Good Person" -- you don't need to follow your principles all the way to giving away everything, or alternately, ignore your principles entirely. By following a simple collectively-chosen rule, you can avoid applying principles selectively in a self-serving (or overly not-self-serving) way.
- Bottomless Pits Of Suffering talks about the cases where utilitarianism becomes uncomfortable and it's tempting to ignore it.
But related ideas are in many other posts. It's a thread which runs throughout Scott's writing. (IMHO.)
This conflict is central to the human condition, or at least the WASP/WEIRD condition. I imagine most of Scott's readers felt similar conflicts around applying their philosophies in practice.
But this is really weird from a decision-theoretic perspective. An agent should be unsure of principles, not sure of principles but unsure about applying them. (Related.)
It's almost like Scott implicitly believes maximizing his own values would be bad somehow.
Some of this makes sense from a Goodhart perspective. Any values you explicitly articulate are probably not your values. But I don't get the sense that this is what's going on in Scott's writing. For example, when he describes altruists selling all their worldly possessions, it doesn't sound like he intends it as an example of Goodhart; it sounds like he intends it as a legit example of altruists maximizing altruist values.
In contrast, blogs like Minding our way to the heavens give me more of a sense of pushing the envelope on everything; I associate it with ideas like:
- If you aren't putting forth your full effort, it probably means this isn't your priority. Figure out whether it's worth doing at all, and if so, what the minimal level of effort to get what you want is. (Or, if it really is important, figure out what's stopping you from giving it your full effort.) You can always put forth your full effort at the meta-level of figuring out how much effort to put into which things.
- If you repeatedly don't do things in line with your "values", you're probably wrong about what your values are; figure out what values you really care about, so that you can figure out how best to optimize those.
- If you find that you're fighting yourself, figure out what the fight is about, and find a way to best satisfy the values that are in conflict.
In more SSC-like terms, it's like, if you're not a holy madman, you're not trying.
I'm not really pushing a particular side, here, I just think the dichotomy is interesting.
Mh... I guess "holy madman" is a definition too vague to make a rational debate on it? I had interpreted it as "sacrifice everything that won't negatively affect your utility function later on". So the interpretation I imagined would be someone that won't leave himself an inch of comfort more than what's needed to keep the quality of his work constant.
I see slack as leaving yourself enough comfort that you'd be ready to use your free energy in ways you can't see at the moment, so I guess I was automatically assuming an "holy madman" would optimise for outputting the current best effort he can in the long term, rather than sacrificing some current effort to bet on future chances to improve the future output.
I'd define someone who's leaving this level of slack as someone who's making a serious or full effort, but not an holy madman, but I guess this doesn't means much.
If I were to try to summarise my thoughts on what would happen in reality if someone were to try these options... I think the slack one would work better in general, both by managing to avoid pitfalls and to better exploit your potential for growth.
I still feel there's a lot of danger to oneself in trying to take ideas seriously though. If you start trying to act like it's your responsibility to solve a problem that's killing people, the moment you lose your grip on your thoughts it's the moment you cut yourself badly, at least in my experience.
In these days I've managed to reduce the harm that some recurrent thoughts were doing by focusing on distinguish between 1) me legitimately wanting A and planning/acting to achieve A and 2) my worries related to not being able to get A or distress for things currently being not A, telling myself that 2) doesn't helps me get what I want in the least, and that I can still make a full effort for 1), likely a better one, without paying to 2) much attention.
(I'm afraid I've started to slightly rant from this point. I'm leaving it because I still feel it might be useful)
This strategy worked for my gender transition.
I'm not sure how I'd react if I were to try telling myself I shouldn't care/feel bad/worry if people die because I'm not managing to fix the problem, even if I KNOW that worrying myself about people dying hinders my effort to fix the problem because feeling sick and worried and tired wouldn't in any way help toward actually working on the problem, I still don't trust my corrupted hardware to not start running some guilt trip against me because I'm trying to be, in a sense that's not utilitarian at all, callous, because I'm trying to not care/feel bad/worry about something like that.
Also, as a personal anecdote of possible pitfalls, trying to take personal responsibility for a global problem had drained my resources in ways I could't foreseen easily. When I got jumped by an unrelated problem about my gender, I found myself without the emotional resources to deal with both stresses at once, so some recurrent thoughts started blaming me because I was letting a personal problem that was in no way as bad as being dead, and didn't blipped at all on any screen in confront to a large number of deaths, screw up with my attempt of working on something that was actually relevant. I realised immediately that this was a stupid thing to think and in no way healthy, but that didn't do much to stop it, and climbing out of that pit of stress and guilt took a while.
In short, my emotional hardware is stupid and bugged and it irritates me to no end how it can just go ahead and ignore my attempts of thinking sanely about stuff.
I'm not sure if I'm just particularly bad at this, or if I just have expectations that are too high. An external view would likely tell me that it's ridiculous for me to expect to be able to go from "lazy and detached" to "saving the world (read reducing X risk), while effortlessly holding at bay emotional problems that would trip most people". I'd surely tell anyone that. On the other hand, it just feels like a stupid thing to not manage doing.
(end of the rant)
Can I ask if you have some sort of external force that makes you do these hours? If not, any advice on how to do that?
I'm coming from a really long tradition of not doing any work whatsoever, and so far I'm struggling to meet my current goal of 24 hours (also because the only deadlines are the ones I manage to give myself... and for reasons I guess I have explained above).
Getting to this was a massive improvement, but again, I feel like I'm exceptionally bad at working hard.