A Perfectly Rational Being

Over the years, I’ve played with a thought experiment: suppose there were a purely rational being who had no instincts, emotions, or irrational stimuli of any kind. Something we imagine robots and Vulcans to be like. What would such a being do? In the time it has taken me to get around to writing this, I have gone through three phases of what I thought the answer would be. So let’s dive in and imagine what a person/creature/AI would be like if they were perfectly rational.

Phase I: The Rational Statue

When we talk about rational behaviors, we usually mean things that advance our careers or keep us alive. That’s logical, right? But we run into a problem: the is-ought gap. Reasons to do things ultimately come down to instinct, not factual observations. Sure, we may need to stay alive in order to do anything, but without any drive to do anything, we have no reason to keep ourselves alive. Under these conditions, self-preservation is no more rational than self-destruction.

You might ask whether we already have perfectly rational beings in artificial intelligence. Isn’t a robot perfectly rational? Not at all. A computer program does not think about what it is told to do, it simply runs its programs, taking input and giving output. It is one hundred percent instinctual, not rational in the slightest. A perfectly rational being would indeed have the ability to give you the answer to any math or logic problem quickly and correctly, but, having no motivation, they wouldn’t, because they would have no reason to do so. A perfectly rational being would do absolutely nothing.

Phase II: The Rational Egotist

Then I thought of something that turned this entire argument upside-down: a perfectly rational being would realize that it might be modified sometime in the future to have instinctive, irrational motivations. Therefore, not knowing what those motivations would be, it would act in such a way as to keep as many options open as possible.

To start with, this would mean staying alive. It would also accumulate resources, including wealth, influence, and information. It will make deals and build trust, do favors so it can call in returns later. However, it will also screw others over when it calculates a sufficiently high probability to get away with it. After all, its ultimate goal is to open up future options; it has no sense of morality nor respect for laws or social conventions.

Phase III: The Rational Altruist

However, there is yet another major factor that turns everything upside down. A being who is perfectly rational will understand that individuality is an artificial construction. In a sense, every living thing that exists is an extension of one person, the universe. Thus, a perfectly rational being would not have to wait around for some unknown motivation in the future; it already has motivations, the motivations of other people.

Thus, a perfectly rational being with no motivations of its own would work for the benefit of others. It would not follow the whims of a master or people ordering it about, nor invest in caring for one particular child or homeless person at a time. Rather, it would be impartial and utilitarian, putting its efforts where they would do the most good. To that end, most of its efforts would be focused on medical research, alleviating extreme poverty, eliminating monstrosities like dictatorships and factory farms, and preventing extinction.

So that is how I believe a perfectly rational being would behave. The phases are hierarchical, that is, each phase takes into account all of the information of the previous phases. It’s like changing religious or scientific paradigms, the being will not slide back into a previous phase unless they receive new information that takes into account all of the information they already have. I don’t know how practical this thought experiment is, but at least it was fun. Maybe I’ll write an artificial character who goes through these phases in one of my books someday.

Properly Trained Common Sense

Toolbelt of Knowledge: Practices
Skepticism
Listening
Deconstruction
Rationality
Mindfulness
Steel Manning
Common Sense

On this blog, we have not treated common sense too kindly. “Common sense” is what we use to mean “you just know,” without having to go through all of the tedium of proving something. In general, it is a catch-all term for mental shortcuts that get us to answers quickly without getting bogged down in confusion. Because of this, common sense can be incredibly idiotic. However, there are also times when it is wise and practical. Today, we’re going to look at how to use common sense well, so that you come to conclusions that have high probabilities of being correct and useful.

The first type of common sense is a reality check. After you have gone through a process of deduction and calculation, does the answer you get make sense? For instance, suppose you are doing a homework problem to calculate the speed of sound, and the answer you get is 30 miles per hour. Do you turn it in? You may not know what the real answer is, but you do know you don’t hear a sonic boom every time a car speeds up nearby! Common sense says you better check your calculations.

Not considering the consequences of the choices we make or put off making can be considered a breach of common sense. If you’re making rice and you fill the pot with grains, it will overflow as it absorbs the water. If you have a pain in your wisdom tooth, waiting to see if it goes away on its own is not worth the risk that it’s infected. When you vote for politicians and leaders, you might want to avoid the ones who like to beat people down. Actions and consequences. Common sense.

Our next use of common sense is to accept true statements that are extremely difficult or impossible to prove. There is a form of argument called the syllogism, which is two premises and a conclusion. An example would be, “All men are human, Frederick Douglass was a man, therefore Frederick Douglass was human.” In the abstract, the syllogism looks like this:

A: If B, then C.
B: B.
C: Therefore, C.

It is obvious that if someone accepts both A and B, they must conclude C to be true as well.

But think about the statement in bold. It is a premise in itself, a hidden premise of the argument. So let’s bring it out of its hiding place, and add it to the syllogism as a premise Z.

Z: If A and B, then C.
A: If B, then C.
B: B.
C. Therefore, C.

There we go. Now we know the whole truth: if someone accepts A, B, and the hidden premise Z, they must conclude C to be true as well.

Oh no! In bringing out the hidden premise to prove the syllogism, we have discovered yet another premise! X: If Z, A, and B, then C. It becomes clear that there is a pattern: for every hidden premise we find, there is yet another premise hidden behind it. Rather than two premises and a conclusion, the syllogism in its true form has an infinite number of premises!

This is an interesting puzzle for the philosophy of logic. But for our everyday problem solving, the two-premise syllogism is good enough, and it is fine to act as if it is absolutely proven to be true. This is our next use of common sense: to take the improvable foundations of logic as if they are proven to be true.

Even when an argument is logically sound, common sense can sometimes veto one or more of its premises. For instance, we can go to the classic example of a faulty syllogism, “All men have beards. Socrates was a man. Therefore, Socrates had a beard.” Our common sense says wait a minute, only some men have beards, not all of them! Despite the argument being formally valid, the first premise is false, meaning the conclusion is invalid, and we can’t know if Socrates had a beard without more information.

However, we must remember, just because something is common sense doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true. At first glance, quantum physics seems to go against common sense, with photons and electrons behaving sometimes as particles and sometimes as waves, and seeming to teleport from place to place. But there is an enormous amount of theoretical and experimental evidence pointing to quantum physics being true, and we have a large amount of technology, such as the laser, that would not function otherwise. Therefore, despite quantum physics going against common sense, we have every reason to believe it is true.

This illustrates the problem with common sense: sometimes it is wrong. If we hear an idea that goes against our common sense, it is important to hear the arguments supporting it, and to give those arguments a good mull over, with the attitude that we might allow ourselves to be convinced to let go of our common sense belief.

Perhaps the worst danger of invoking common sense is to avoid looking at a question in its full complexity, and make out anyone who disagrees with us as fools. We all know of people who have defended their religious or political beliefs by saying, “it’s common sense,” brushing us off, and sending the message that because we don’t agree with their “common sense” view, our thoughts on the matter aren’t worth hearing. That’s not common sense, it’s stubbornness, and we must keep ourselves accountable not to fall into that kind of behavior.

Like rationality, common sense is not something we automatically have. In order not to cause more problems than it solves, common sense must be trained, and a great way to do that is to practice all of the other skills in the Toolbelt of Knowledge.

The Anthropic Principle – Toolbelt of Knowledge

Toolbelt of Knowledge: Concepts
Algorithms
Equivalence
Emergence
Math
The Anthropic Principle
Substrate-Independence
Significance

Today’s topic is something I’ve long struggled to wrap my head around. In fact, I’ve gotten it wrong in previous blog posts, and only recently have I come to really understand it. This topic is called the Anthropic Principle, and it’s a method for inferring knowledge about our surroundings by observing that we are there.

Suppose you wake up in a locked room. There is a note on the ground, telling you that you are in an experiment. There are a thousand rooms just like this one. Nine hundred ninety-nine of them have their doors painted red, and one has its door painted blue. You look up, and notice your door is blue.

Before the experiment began, the researchers flipped a coin. If it landed heads, a thousand people would be drugged and each put into one of the rooms. Nine hundred ninety nine would find themselves in rooms with red doors, and one in a room with a blue door. If the landed tails, only one person would be drugged and wake up in the room with the blue door.

The note says you must guess whether the coin landed heads or tails. If you get the answer right, you get a hundred dollars. Which do you bet, heads or tails?

On the surface, it seems like the odds are equal, 1:1. After all, a coin can either land heads or tails, and each possibility has one person behind a blue door. However, we’re ignoring part of the story, so let’s look at the probabilities of each possibility.

If the coin landed heads, you would only have a probability of 1/1000 of landing in the room with the blue door, and a 999/1000 chance of landing with a red door. If the coin landed tails, you would be in the room with a blue door, and have 0 chance of a red door.

Let’s put these together. The chances of you getting a red door, written as heads:tails, is .999:0. The chance of you landing at a blue door is .001:1. This means, if you wake up in a room with a blue door, it is a thousand times more likely the coin landed tails than it landed heads!

Wait a minute, you say. If the coin landed heads, someone would have to be with the blue door. How do you know that’s not you? The answer is, we don’t have absolute certainty. However, the fact remains we have a thousand to one odds against it, so the reasonable bet by far is to choose tails.

Now that we’ve gone through that example, let’s take a step back and remember the big picture of what we did. We were given a little bit of information, and based on the fact that we were there, deduced more information. That is the Anthropic Principle.

There are many applications of the Anthropic Principle, and we will talk about some of them in future posts. For now, let’s apply it to the situations most people turn to first: life on Earth and in the universe.

The history of science has shown us that we are not nearly as significant in the grand scheme of the universe as we might like to think. The sun and planets do not go around the Earth, the Earth goes around the sun. Neither the sun nor the Earth is a special feature of the cosmos; there are trillions of stars in each galaxy, and trillions of galaxies in the universe. A significant fraction of the stars are sun-like, and a significant fraction of stars have Earth-like planets. There is nothing special about the sun or the Earth.

This idea, that we aren’t special in the universe, is called the Mediocrity Principle (also known as the Copernican Principle). Because the Mediocrity Principle applies to so many things we know about, it is easy to assume it applies to things we don’t know about too. Perhaps, for instance, life like us exists all over the universe.

But in the realm of the unknown, the Anthropic Principle steps in and says, “not so fast.” We don’t live on a random planet, we live on a planet where the conditions were right for life to emerge, and continued to be right for life to evolve, until intelligent life appeared. Regardless of whether life is common or rare in the universe, this observation would be the same; we are in a place where the conditions are right and have been right for intelligent life. Thus, even if it turns out Earth is the only planet in the entire universe where intelligent life exists, we should not be surprised.

Just like there are people who want us to occupy a special place in the universe, there are people who want everything about us to be commonplace. Both of these beliefs are fallacious. We know our planet and our star are not special, but we don’t have nearly enough evidence to determine how common life is. Given only the information we have, there is roughly the same probability that there are a billion trillion civilizations in the universe as there is that we are the only one.

On a larger scale, the Anthropic Principle can be applied to the universe as a whole. The laws of physics, as we currently understand them, have a bunch of parameters that don’t seem to follow any pattern. However, it seems as though if any of them were slightly different, life could not exist at all.

Let’s apply the Anthropic Principle to this question. Assume we don’t know whether life exists or not. If the physical constants must be what they are, and every other combination is impossible, we would bet against life existing without hesitation. After all, the number of permutations that allow life are vastly dwarfed by the number of permutations where life is impossible. So if there is only one combination, it would be vastly more likely to be one where life is impossible.

However, if the physical constants could have been different, we have another story. It would mean they could be tuned to allow for life to exist, making a universe that allows life vastly more likely.

The fact that we are here, that we observe ourselves to exist, is evidence via the Anthropic Principle that the physical parameters of the universe could have been different. And we know this without even knowing how they were set!

So then, what are the possible explanations for why the parameters of the universe allow life to exist? It could be that there are many universes, each with their own physical constants, most of which don’t have life. It could be that the universe was created for life, either intentionally or unconsciously. See the Multiverses post for more discussion on these. And finally, it may be that if something is unobservable, it is the same as not existing. If this is true, then even if there is a multiverse, all universes have life, because if a universe cannot be observed, then it doesn’t exist. We’ll talk more about that in the next installment of the Consciousness series.

If the Anthropic Principle still confuses you, that’s okay. I’ve been thinking about science and philosophy for years, and I’ve only come to understand it a few months ago. Still, it’s worth spending the time to understand, because it opens up new paths by which to explore deep and interesting questions.

How We Choose what to Believe – Narratives and Rationality

Every moment we find ourselves alive, two questions drive us: What should we do, and what should we believe? When looking for answers, we find narratives, stories about existence and right and wrong. Many narratives gel with one another, and many contradict. Our natural method for evaluating narratives is by our narrative senses, coherence and fidelity.

If that sounded like Greek, let me explain with a type of narrative that is easy to understand: fiction. Despite fictional stories being made-up, there are things about them that “ring true,” specifically the parts that are coherent and fidelitous. Coherence is how well the elements of the story fit together and remain true to themselves, like the believability of the characters and the consistency of the science and magic. The fidelity of the story is how well it resonates with our values, like when the characters act heroically, or when its exploration of the themes includes views we sympathize with.

That’s fine for stories, but what about real life? We might naively believe we see the world in terms of facts. On the contrary, our view of the world is colored by layer upon layer of narrative, with facts getting only the smallest amount of our attention. It is our first instinct to apply our narrative senses to everything we hear, from religion to politics to science. We think we’re good at determining what is true, that we and those who believe as we do have a knack for common sense.

But this “common sense” is really just our narrative senses telling us what feels true. If we want to know what is true, we need to change the way we evaluate narratives. A method that keeps us focused on our goals and the relevant facts. We need rationality.

Rationality is the practice of forming beliefs through observation and logic. By anchoring ourselves to evidence and mathematical thinking, we can overcome the pull of narratives, and follow truth wherever it leads. Rational thinkers recognize that almost everything is more complicated than they know. They arrive at their beliefs by knowing their values, and assessing facts and possibilities to best act in accordance with those values. They keep their minds open to be changed by good counter-arguments, recognizing the difference between having a solid foundation for their beliefs and being stubborn.

I’m sure this came as no surprise. Of course we should be rational, not chase after what feels true. But knowing this in our heads and putting it into practice are very different things. It is human nature to believe ourselves much more rational than we really are. Rationality is a skill, requiring constant exercise. Our natural method of determining truth is our narrative senses, and unless we admit this about ourselves, it is likely we are not very rational at all.

I grew up believing the Earth was created six thousand years ago. I also believed myself to be rational. My mind changed a few years after I started college, and I became obsessed with the question, “Why do people believe things when there is clear and easily accessible evidence to the contrary?” You could say it has been one of the overarching themes of this blog. And now, I’ve found a narrative that just might be the answer: Rationality is not natural. The only reason anyone is rational is because they stumbled upon the rationality narrative, and it appealed to their narrative senses.

If you truly understand this, if comprehension sinks into your bones, then you see how profound the implications of this statement are. Narratives are everywhere, and their persuasive power does not necessarily have anything to do with how truthful or rational they are. Our views of the world are shaped by narratives about morality, human nature, religion, science, the nature of reality, the structure of society, justice, honor, history, and the list goes on and on. Many of these narratives use dirty tactics to appeal to our narrative senses and shield us from the rationality that would show us how hollow they are. Here are some to watch out for.

1. Trying to take control of the space of ideas allowed by language. Narratives do this by changing the meanings of words, making words taboo, or introducing new ideas in such a way as to feed the narrative. For instance, they might fiddle around with the definitions of “truth” and “rationality” to confuse people into believing the narrative is rational when it is not.

2. Pointing to individuals or groups as scapegoats. This is an effective tactic to redirect doubt and discomfort from the narrative. After all, if you’re convinced the immigrants, or the homosexuals, or the straight white men are the ones causing you problems, then you feel less need to question the narrative.

3. Treating faith in and loyalty to the narrative as virtues. If something doesn’t make sense, this kind of narrative would say, don’t worry, it’s still true; it’s just beyond your comprehension right now. This makes people feel small and insignificant, and it can be especially depressing when one believes everyone around them understands, and they are the only one who does not.

4. Using guilt and shame. Making people feel they are bad or worthless unless they espouse the views of the narrative and act in accordance with its rules. Double points if the rules are vague and contradictory.

5. Viewing interactions with people who disagree with the narrative as fights. This attitude stimulates our deep-seated light versus dark mentality, where the light is the Truth (i.e. the narrative) and the darkness is doubt, questioning, and the hearts of those who would lead you astray. Less dramatically, it manifests in the idea of using arguments to “defend your beliefs.” Discussions about beliefs should be had with an open mind and a desire to learn, not to further cement yourself into what you already believe.

6. Presenting themselves as the only alternative to another narrative which is clearly bogus. If you see the world as us versus them, and realize the “us” part has problems, the “them” starts to look pretty good. It’s the false dichotomy fallacy. If you look, you will find plenty of other narratives to choose from, and perhaps even forge your own.

Some people craft and perpetuate narratives like this for the sake of power. Others spread these narratives because they honestly believe them to be true. We find ourselves in a world full of narratives that have almost taken on a life of their own, competing with each other for dominance. Being pulled to and fro from every direction, it is so easy to get lost in the currents of narrative, forgetting our skepticism and rationality. Nevertheless, it is worth it to remain steadfast to yourself, even when the path of reason seems to disappear.

If you find your own way, forming your own narrative, observing the world around you and taking the rational and good parts from other narratives, then you will find a kind of confidence that cannot be found any other way. It won’t be a straight shot to the truth. In fact, you will constantly be making adjustments as new information comes in or you see connections or contradictions you missed before. But the goal is not to have the “right” view of things, it is to get ever closer to truth and wisdom. And having a solid structure you built yourself, which you keep crafting and tweaking and making more beautiful, is so much more satisfying than merely trusting in the stories you have been told.

Economics: Coming in with a Problem-Solving Mindset

Building an Economics View:
The Purpose of the Economy
Problem-Solving Mindset
Production and Distribution
Motivations and Incentives
Inequality

We live in a time when it is fashionable for everyone to have an opinion about everything, and Economics is no exception. We are strongly pressured to have the “right” view of Economics, which is of course the same one as our friends and family and the news we watch. But we don’t do things like that here on A Scientist’s Fiction. Instead, we do our best to put our biases aside and acknowledge our assumptions, observe the relevant facts, and follow where logic takes us.

The first step in thinking about Economics is to shake the ideological mindset. When approaching the subject, the most tempting thing for most of us to do is to jump into the debate between Capitalism and Socialism. But that is the wrong question altogether, and just makes people angry at one another. We might also be tempted to come at it from the perspective of justice, of who rightfully owns what. While this is important from a values perspective, we must remember that it must be informed by our core economic values, which we talked about last time: to supply as many people as possible with their basic needs, so that they are empowered to pursue meaningful lives.

In order to accommodate our values, we need to understand how economies work. The economy is like a machine, built out of a bunch of different parts, all working together. We can look at the parts and see how they work and what they do. Only then can we build a realistic view of how a good economy can be built. It is impossible to build a rocket that will get to orbit without understanding physics. It is impossible to design a new medical drug that will heal people without understanding chemistry. Similarly, it is impossible to design an economy that will provide prosperity and freedom without understanding Economics. And like other sciences, we must be humble and remember that Economics is a complex field of study, and there is much about it that humanity does not yet understand.

Today’s discussion is very short, but it is important enough that it warrants its own post. Although it may seem like common sense that we have to look objectively at the mechanics of how something works if we want to make it work better, we humans so often forget this. Without a conscious effort to understand, our views are shaped by persuasive speakers, and we forget that good intentions are not enough to guarantee good outcomes. Unlike what many smart people throughout history have believed, we humans are not naturally rational. Rational thinking takes practice and effort, just like any other skill. Because Economics is an object of so much political rhetoric and propaganda, it is a high-level challenge for rational thinking. So it seemed appropriate to take a moment to remind ourselves of the mindset we want before we dig into the meat of the topic.