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Tuesday, 9 October 2018

My Demarchic Utopia


A Superior Political System

Every year – or perhaps every two years (hard to say) – every major polity (i.e. I’m thinking state or nation (a polity with a population in the hundreds of thousands, let’s say), although my discussions mostly assume federal institutions) should hold a major exam as the preliminary phase for deciding the federal politicians of their polity for the next political ‘term’. This exam, held simultaneously in all major cities/settlements across the polity, would be open and free to all adult citizens, who, however, must enter with the knowledge that if they pass it (/pass some carefully chosen threshold), they will be entered into a draw (a lottery, à la the Ancient Greek practice of sortition) to become a salaried politician. Then, if they are chosen as one of the unique hundred or two hundred (maybe varying by the size of the nation or polity) from the draw of successful exam candidates, they will be expected to move to the capital and become full-time salaried politicians for the next year (or two).
I imagine the exam being written and judged by a professionally elected body of academics (not sure about the length of the term of office of this body) from many different fields (economics, political philosophy, law, decision theory/game theory, civil-engineering, ecology, climate science, maybe even mathematics and physics) representing institutions across the nation. It would feature questions on the many different subjects which the academics in the body cover, although perhaps with the largest focus (only as a proportion, though) being polity-relevant history and political information. It would feature both a multiple-choice section, short answers and a longer-form section. As I implied, I think it would actually be cool to include explicitly mathematical problems along with stuff on law and history and political philosophy. It would be long – but give examinees a lot of time and heavily-supervised breaks (i.e. they must bring lunch into the exam room, while being forced to leave electronic devices outside, and the room will have its own toilet, maybe gym equipment, maybe have some music-playing facility via earphones/headphones (you get the picture)) – and perhaps quite difficult (I would imagine requiring a polymath of genius-level intellect to actually approach full marks), but with the threshold set relatively low, so that it allows for people with relevant intellectual strengths/specialties to get by mostly just on the basis of that specific knowledge or expertise. The idea would be that quite a significant number get through to the draw stage, so that this draw approximates a random cross-section of politically engaged people with a high level of literacy and relevant education (obviously, there would be no in principle debarment of the self-educated), but with wealth and connections obviously being only incidental factors, rather than factors more directly selected for (as in our current system).
In the capital of the polity, in the houses of parliament, there would be a longer-term staff of functionaries, staffers and intellectuals who specialise in this or that portfolio. The respected figures/heads of each portfolio would be in charge of hiring new blood for their area and firing poor performers. Oversight over these ‘senior mandarins’ themselves could perhaps be achieved at least partially by internal voting mechanisms, i.e. the senior mandarins would have regular meetings and could also privately decide to vote out one of their number. Perhaps the professionally elected body of academics could exercise some oversight over the senior mandarins (though I also imagine some potential overlap between these two groups, given that I am imagining that most of the mandarins would have an academic sort of background).  
I am imagining that we keep a high court. I am imagining my hypothetical polity has only one house of parliament, but only for simplicity and I have limited confidence in that feature of the architecture. The newly minted politicians would be instructed by the judges of the high court and/or the senior mandarins that they have been vested with the responsibility of deciding amongst themselves how they are going to (more or less evenly) split themselves up into groups controlling the (let’s say) 10 to 15 possible portfolios. They would have the freedom to be slightly flexible with both the number and name of the portfolios, if the mandarins agree, although I imagine there would need to be a constitutional law mandating that the distribution of politicians by portfolio must meet a specific mathematical threshold of evenness. They would be expected to solve this problem of allocation via an internally organised system of deliberation and voting (with some supervision by the senior mandarins) within, maybe, two or three weeks (while the incumbent politicians are just finishing their term in office). If they fail to agree on an appropriate assignment of people to portfolios, then I imagine that the senior mandarins would be given the task of reviewing all the relevant information (the resumes and skills of the various politicians, on personal relations, and so on), before making a binary decision: either to solve the problem for the politicians by mandating an allocation, or by throwing the football to the high court (with an official report attached), who then have the power either to replace one or more politicians under instruction from the senior mandarins, or (in an ideally very rare crisis) to throw out the whole government and temporarily leave governance to the functionaries in the capital before a new government can be thrown together (maybe there would be two draws from the cohort of successful exam candidates (or three, just to be completely safe) in preparation for this contingency).
Once given their portfolio, these politicians would do essentially what our current politicians do, except better and with a stronger intellectual focus. Primarily, they would be expected to work hard with each other and with the permanent staffers to think hard about policy and help draft or refine bills, which they would all then vote on. Due to the absence of party divisions and dissension, it may be that the threshold for a bill that passes has to be somewhere around 75% or 80%. And, of course, the high court would have the power to strike down bills it viewed as contrary to human rights (or contrary to whatever constitution the polity has). Of course, these politicians would also attract publicity, like our current politicians do, and have media appearances. They would be allowed to go on political trips if they so choose (although the senior mandarins could submit a request for termination of office to the high court if a given politician became too lackadaisical or insouciant or too dazzled by the spotlight (or whatever)). And some of these politicians would also be expected to attend international political meetings on important issues of war and peace, the environment, etc.  

This system is very impressively secured against moneyed corruption and corporate lobbying, certainly of the massive-scale, institutionalised kind (particularly bad in the US today (see some of my old political writings, which I find a little fervent for my tastes now, for more)); it is also impressively secured against various forms of cronyism because any ties politicians have to the media or to other important institutions will be random and non-systematic (and it is partly secured against corporate media influence on politics generally, because the media won’t know much about these people’s politics until they start making decisions); this system is epistocratic to some extent, and yet also very morally pleasing (arguably, one of the main objections to “epistocracy”), because of the anti-corrupt design and because these politicians, though not elected, are, by design, a fairly representative cross-section of the educated/smart members of the polity; this system ideally selects for people who are actually interested in difficult and nuanced debate and complex intellectual problems; this system avoids the groupthink and anti-rationalist incentives of political parties and robust, long-term political coalitions.
This system has flaws. One is that a lot of power is invested in the long-term functionaries and especially the people I called the “senior mandarins” in the capital. Perhaps it’s also more likely than I think that the group of people selected won’t get along very well and will struggle to co-operate to distribute themselves across portfolios. Perhaps it’s also more likely than I think that a lot of these people will do their job poorly, be lazy etc. It’s definitely bad for long-term planning and development that the terms of the politicians are so short – but then again the long-term staff and functionaries would have some ability to bend the elected politicians to their will in terms of steering discussions and policy ideas. One major concern is that most citizens will become totally disengaged from the political process. It also is not crazy to think that, though not explicitly designed, there is potentially a huge class divide inherent to this system. It may well be that the people with the time and skills to sit the exam/the desire to spend a year or two being a politician in the capital are overwhelmingly upper-middle class people.
Anyway, still seems superior, imho. I always thought demarchy was bitchin' when I learnt about it in this wonderful unit on democracy I did at uni in late 2016. I still think that. It's true that coming up with grand political projects from the armchair is an epistemologically problematic enterprise just in general. And of course, this thought experiment belongs to a genre of political philosophy that Karl Popper rejected entirely (for pretty good reasons): Utopian political philosophy. I haven't actually made even a single suggestion for how we might 'move' towards this system. I have no such suggestions. Indeed, I have almost no confidence that anything like this system will ever be realised. But, still, worth chewing on, I feel. Props to Francois Chollet on Twitter for motivating this thought with a couple of Tweets he made today on "sortition" in Ancient Greece, which reminded me of how cool I thought that was when I learnt about it.


Monday, 8 October 2018

I'm back, baby! Did you miss me?

I'm back, so here's why I think I was gone in case you cared.. and also here are some typically rambling thoughts on matters related to the recent 'Sokal Squared' thing

Just had to update my blog for the sake of all the weird girls who stalk me. As to why I've had (by my standards) a massive break in posting, I can identify the following factors: 'external': getting into cricket again, being a little socially busier, spending a lot of time writing a long and well-researched essay on the future of the planet for a writing competition on which I'll soon get feedback (meaning I can post this essay here), and, a little more recently, obsessively playing the classical guitar, after not playing at all for nearly four years straight (and I mean obsessively); 'internal': being extremely happy and mentally relaxed (connected: being socially busier than I was), reaching a tipping point of general disgust with the amount of dogmatic and dimwitted intellectual pollution on the internet and not wanting to contribute to it with a non-excellent, non-cogent post. I've thought for a while I need to write something at some point on the early history of mathematics (in particular, how long it took 'us' to develop the notation that makes 'simple' maths so much easier) and what it tells one about the Flynn Effect, about the role of cognition-externalisation, the importance of language and notation to thought, and on the secret theory-ladenness of many things we forget are theory-laden. I think I will do this eventually. I also keep wondering if I should write reviews of things, like the books and movies I've enjoyed recently (or even not so recently), because that might be fun. The reason I didn't do that in the past with books is because I had this major pathological aversion to summarising things that I read and liked, because I realised that summary always costs nuance and information that the author included for a reason - usually, I feel like almost nothing is indispensable in books I like, so I prefer to quote chapters out of whole cloth. But maybe I should start reviewing. On the other hand, I have this disposition against which I think is a perverse manifestation of the 'sunk-cost' fallacy: my brain secretes this weird thought like, It would be wrong to start reviewing things now, because that's not your thing; you could have reviewed books and movies that you liked years ago but you didn't so you can't just go back on that now.
Anyway, I did have something non-narcissistic to say, induced by the "Sokal Squared" Hoax that just happened. I'm not really going to comment on the Hoax per se (on the ethics or intellectual 'validity' of it, or on the perpetrators (the truth is I don't actually have a strong opinion on, like, the ethics of the Hoax - I think Boghossian and Lindsay seem like massive wankers but whatever)), but I wanted to say something  on related matters.

Sturgeon's Law tells us that most of academia is total bullshit (what I mean is: that should be our default assumption). Most research, even in the harder sciences, goes absolutely nowhere, retreads old ground in a pointless way, or is unrigorous (I hesitate to write disjunctions like these, because one is wont to miss disjuncts (there are probably more failure modes)). Arguably, fundamental physics - that most reverent of scientific disciplines - has been little different from metaphysics for the last several decades (see Sabine Hossenfender's controversial new book (which I haven't actually read, I should admit, though I have read her blogposts, on her blogpost blog)). And, obviously, macroeconomics has some well-known issues with predicting shit, medical science has some serious issues with publication bias and corporate influence, and social scientists are, for the most part, fucking useless idiots who need to increase their n and stop p-hacking shit. (I could link to relevant articles but I'm happy to assume that the kind of people who read my blog are big intellectual playas who have already read such articles).
But in my humble opinion, if there's one kind of area of academia that's worse than all the others, it's specifically the unrigorous part of academia which is also completely obscurantist - the academia of long sentences and pollysyllabic verbiage (or, alternatively, as one can see, for example, in some parts of economics and probably some other disciplines, the academia of obscurantist mathematics - glyphs and runes included to dazzle rather than to give a rigorous structure to a problem). One commonly used shorthand for obscurantist academia is "Postmodern" academia. Whilst I don't really think it poses much of a problem for this term that Postmodern academics themselves think it's painfully simplistic and bigoted to use one term to encompass several decades of evolving scholarship (because I don't give a shit about obscurantist scholarship), I already implied in the preceding parenthetical interjection that there is one problem with using this term as a shorthand: namely, that obscurantist academia is bigger than the parts of academia where words/phrases like "Marx", "Foucault", "Derrida", "Barthes", "Kristeva", "Lacan", "Bourdieu", "Butler", "theory", "hermeneutics", "problematics", "hegemony", "towards a", "beyond the", "territorialisation", "post-structuralist", "meta-textual", and so on, are highly frequent, and an extraordinary degree of prolixity is commonplace (see Postmodernism Generator)
To be sure, Postmodern academia is definitely a major bastion of such obscurantism and it's probably deserved some of the specific critiques it has gotten (like these two I have linked before; http://faculty.georgetown.edu/irvinem/theory/Nussbaum-Butler-Critique-NR-2-99.pdf, http://bactra.org/chomsky-on-postmodernism.html). Postmodern academia is the area to which the "X studies" fields (the main target of the Hoax) largely belong, along with English literature and (to a lesser extent) sociology and history (I am sure there are some gender, race-studies and English literature academics who are not so into abstruse verbiage and the French theoreticians who perfected it to an artform but prefer to write clearly (which does not necessarily mean their scholarship has merit, but I'm sure some of it is interesting and incisive and cogent and all those other nice things)). 
However, one issue with the critique of Postmodernism that fails to link Postmodern writing with obscurantism generally is that it gives Postmodern critiques an opening to say either "You just don't understand our technical language and theoretical constructs" or "You just don't like our political conclusions". This is shitty, because, in my opinion, the important thing to point out is that Postmodern obscurantism is not really any different, from an epistemological perspective, from any other kind of obscurantism, e.g. religious obscurantism, the 'deepities' of pop-philosophy and self-help books, bureaucratese, Fascist mysticism, or the obscurantism of so much of the 'canon of philosophy' going back centuries (the part that one of a crude bent of mind might classify as "counter-Enlightenment" (e.g. the whole German Idealism thing)). It's not different, from an epistemological perspective, because it's all equally vague, non-naturalistic BS, or, as I prefer to say, bad poetry. As Chomsky points out, the difference between mathematics being used properly as part of a rigorous scientific theory and polysyllables being used in a prolix sentence is that mathematics, used properly, can allow one to give a rigorous testable structure to theories and to find precise solutions to very difficult problems that one couldn't even approach without the language (think of the analytic power and beauty of a matrix (or just think of trying to do physics problems without maths lmao)). But when you decode a typical sentence of Latinate polysyllables in the works of Derrida, Lacan or Butler, it turns out either to be a thought expressible more simply or just pure gobbledegook. 
Why can't truth be found in long, turgid sentences populated with esoteric Latinate words? Well, for one thing, humans are really bad at even parsing long sentences from a memory point of view. (So, just as a kind of abstract theoretical point, supposing you did have something really deep to say, don't you think you'd want to make more of an effort?) For another thing, fuzzy words almost necessarily mean fuzzy thought and they definitely mean ambiguity; hence why a key development of the Enlightenment was this thing called a technical term (a term you explicitly define in the context of some kind of rigorous, self-contained usually mathematical framework). More to the point, I agree with the meta-philosophy and largely with the metaphysic explicated in Ladyman and Ross' magnum opus, Every Thing Must Go. I think that philosophers and theoreticians who don't practise metaphysics in the Quinean fashion, as simply a process of making rigorous the ontological commitments of our best scientific theories, are "neo-scholastics" talking nonsense for no humanly important end. Basically, the long and short of it is that science is hard, naturalistic metaphysics has to be a very humble enterprise which pays due fealty to science, and all scholarship which talks about matters of reality and existence without a serious connection to relevant scientific inquiry is BS.
Yes, ok, I admit it, I'm a "neo-positivist" (which is very different from "logical postivism", per se, because literally everyone agrees that that is a faulty doctrine for various, largely esoteric reasons I will not get into). Which, in truth, means I can't win with Pomo people, because if the other rebuttals don't stick, "Positivist" is the one they are bound to hurl. I mean, I should clarify that I don't actually like the label "neo-positivist", even though some people with similar views to mine call themselves that. What I prefer to call myself is a "neo-pragmatist structural realist", where "pragmatist" here refers to a pragmatist attitude to metaphysics, which says that we should avoid the idea that we can actually do metaphysics 'properly' and instead just accept that we should call real whatever is a projectible phenomenon or cluster of phenomena in the fully mind-independent world (a phenomenon whose postulation allows us to make systematic predictions that help us achieve goals in our navigation in the world as organisms), most of which phenomena just have to be 'read off' scientific theories, with fundamental physics taking priority simply because of its generality (see the book Every Thing Must Go(2007) for more). Basically, this means that I think a whole lot of analytic philosophy is useless, along with virtually all of Continental philosophy and X studies stuff. (Basically, what it means in practice is that when anyone ever tries to sound profound using fancy words, my reaction is "That's some nice poetry". Writing, to me, falls into one of the following categories: poetry, prose (as in prose fiction), science, failed science, or naturalistic philosophy.)
Now, I've been reading some history books lately, and I want to make clear: this is not to imply that, like, history is a waste of time if you're not going full Peter Turchin or some shit. Archival research and analysis would be necessary even for a hypothetical fully rigorous, scientific discipline of historical inquiry, and, in any case, narrativistic history is definitely at least partly distinct from mere story-telling (I don't know if Hayden White literally thought there was no difference at all, but he's definitely wrong if so; in fact, I would go so far as to say that there's a fact of the matter as to whether Inga Clendinnen's interpretation of the spearing of Arthur Phillip at Manly is more correct or scientific than the interpretation given by the English sources on which she relies (i.e. I don't take a super radical view on the epistemological constraints of conventional narrativistic historical inquiry, though I'm also no Geoffrey Elton)).
Now, I admit that much of what I just said, especially when I started using fancy analytic-philosophy terms, would be obscure, especially to people who don't know shit about philosophy, but in my defence, what I'm really doing is saying go read Every Thing Must Go to see why I think what I do. So go do that if you really care. Otherwise, fuck off.

Thursday, 28 June 2018

World Cup Fury


One of the many things in this world that really gets on my nerves is the absurd lack of awareness of hindsight bias on the part of professional football commentators. Some high-profile Australian football commentators, most notably, Craig Foster (SBS) and Robbie Slater (used to do a lot of stuff on Fox Sports for the A-League, don’t know what he’s doing currently), have come out with scathing remarks about Australia’s disappointing performance in the group stage that has just passed (at least for Australia’s group), where we bowed out with only a single point after a hard-fought loss to France, a draw with Denmark, and a loss to Peru. What’s weird is that these commentators, along with everyone else who watched the games, noted that the game against France was fairly even and that we restricted France’s ability to create chances quite severely; that we created a lot more chances than Denmark, had more possession than Denmark (54% to 46%), and only lacked finishing quality and a goal-scoring instinct in the box; and that we created a lot more chances than Peru, had more possession than Peru (55% to 45%), and again lacked finishing quality and a goal-scoring instinct in the box whereas Peru were astonishingly clinical with their paltry chances to score two goals with two great strikes. The fact that we had so many chances and failed to finish any of them (our only two goals came from penalties) is, to be sure, suggestive of a specific problem (the absence of a world-class striker), although I think there was definitely just an element of bad luck also, especially in the final game. But even if you ignore the luck part, the super weird thing about the emerging critiques is that they are not even merely specifically targeted at the fact that we lack a world-class striker. I don’t get it, because every other aspect of our performances was excellent. We punched well above our weight, in terms of rankings and player dollar-value, so far as I can see. Yes, we were Asian champions in 2015, but who’s to say that we wouldn’t have beat Japan and Korea in this world cup anyway? Just because the other Asian teams superficially did better doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have beat them. Our group was tough. It’s foolish to make these determinations. And it’s just so fucking irrational to judge a team so harshly and sweepingly by the points made in three games.
The key thing to remember is that there’s nothing remotely deterministic about football-match results. We know this with high confidence. Here’s a good piece of evidence: the world’s most sophisticated model for making such predictions just got something very badly wrong (https://www.technologyreview.com/s/611397/machine-learning-predicts-world-cup-winner/).
On this subject, we shouldn’t be so harsh on Germany either. I think it’s fair to say they’ve had bad luck this world cup, too. Yes, they’ve lacked inspiration in attack, but they’ve created a lot of chances still. Shit happens.
Of course, nobody will listen to this. Everyone thinks they have something smart to say about football teams. Whenever a team fails, everyone always thinks there’s a clear reason. Nobody gives a fuck about the truth, or reality. Truly, nobody gives a fuck about reality. And it fucking pisses me off.

Friday, 18 May 2018

the true eccentric does not notice his eccentricities... and when he does he posts about them to his fluctuating but enduringly small audience

I was just reminded how totally non-neurotypical I am. I guess I  haven't been thinking about that for a while. But a visit from my most normal two friends has reminded me that my habits are very odd. As soon as they walked in my new room, they noticed many things that I had taken for granted. I had thought, for example, that my room was not so bad. But they immediately noticed the many, many odd features; the haphazard, totally lazy way I'd stacked the books on my dresser, the fact that the bottom drawer of the dresser that came with the room was half open, the fact that my bed wasn't at all properly made, that I've only got one pillow on the double bed, that my sheets don't match, that some of my bed stuff is stained and hasn't been washed for ages, the fact that I had two containers of coins on my desk (a bowl and a jar, totalling perhaps 200 coins), the fact that I had a half-finished puzzle section of a newspaper on my desk being used as a mousepad, the fact that my birth certificate is lying face down on the desk (adding to the clutter), the fact that I hadn't taken my ice-cream bowl down to the kitchen and it was on my desk, the fact that I had a pair of pants and a packet of dried figs buried in my sheets, the fact that I had an eyewear plastic packet on the dresser, the fact that all my washing was just on the floor (ready to be washed tomorrow but without a basket), the fact that there was a single sock I don't own in my bed, and so on. (I actually feel like I've become incredibly anal recently, but I guess this is very relative (and really I guess the only thing is that I'm pretty concerned about dust nowadays, and my mind often turns to some of the toxins that may surround me (my mind often turns to the thought of lead traces and air pollution (I am essentially constantly thinking about the health of my brain)), but I'm probably no more scrupulous about dust than many people). I've also been reminded recently of how badly I take care of my textbooks, without noticing (people keep commenting on how battered my books look, and I am taken aback because I literally never notice until people point it out). And of course I performatively reminded myself just then, when they were here, of how weird the way I use my notebooks is (I opened up my current 240-page book, which is now totally out of space (my second this semester, so I'll need a third)) and flipped through the pages as a comic display to them of my weirdness). At the start of a semester, I initially try to separate my subjects inside my writing book but I soon give up on that, and my books (now, at least, that I'm only doing technical work and no longer draw shitty cartoon pictures endlessly) is just filled with random, totally disconnected maths and comp sci scribblings and weird diagrams that reflect an attempt to hold a thought in working memory but aren't really coherent without knowing what I was thinking about. There's no ordering by subject and it's mostly unfinished thoughts (as one of them pointed out, some of the equations are unfinished). I no longer write any proper notes whatsoever because there are always nice summarised resources to turn to when it comes to revision. I also don't really finish any tutorials. I get too distracted. There's rarely a day when I only focus on one thing. And I spend half my days on Twitter or Facebook or reading articles anyhow. I don't go to any lectures whatsoever when it comes to maths and computer science, and instead I try to learn new content by racing through lecture slides while blasting four hundred different genres of music through my ears (Bach, Radiohead, Cesaria Evora, Medieval music, jazz, calypso, Mahler, Aphex Twin, Sufjan Stevens, Porcupine Tree), and by trying to do questions. I spend basically 8 hours a day sat in the same place, every day. When I tried to go to technical lectures when I started doing technical stuff at uni, I just found them deadly boring (excruciatingly painful) and a terrible waste of time, because when you're learning maths or other technical things alone you can set the right pace: slow for stuff that isn't sinking in, and fast for stuff you've learnt before, and you can immediately start 'learning by doing' (also you don't have to bother looking at the proofs for important theorems until it's vital to look at them (which it usually isn't)). I never liked the maths lectures before maths classes either. I basically can't stand people teaching me maths.
One major thing I often forget is how low-status I am socially. I still have this residual mental image of myself  as the very popular 10- and 11-year-old was at a small primary school: good at sports, music and academics, and someone who got along well with almost everyone. But I'm now very eccentric and very low-status. It sucks. I'm no longer weird in the sense of fashion and hygiene - I pay some attention to those now at least (relative to a few years ago, when I thought that people would respect me as a person even if I often didn't wear deodorant and wore musty clothes, or cut up my shorts with scissors), but I'm sure I still fall short of some people's standards. I just wish people would love me. Most don't.

A Future of Eternal Torment for each of our Four-Dimensional Worldlines?

Perhaps the most original, incandescent and 'fertile' philosopher of the last quarter of the 20th Century, David Lewis, delivered a lecture in the same year he died, 2001, (http://www.andrewmbailey.com/dkl/How_Many_Lives.pdf) in which he argues, among other things, that if you accept the Everettian, 'many-worlds' interpretation of quantum mechanics, then it is plausible to believe that you, along with all conscious agents in the universe will experience eternal, conscious life, most of which is taken up by horrible suffering and misery. Basically, the idea is that if at every moment, an infinity of parallel realities are branching off, then there will be some realities where 'you' are still conscious and alive, and so there will always be an experiencer experiencing conscious existence, and as all of the 'yous' in the infinitely branching realities age things are guaranteed to get uglier and uglier on the suffering front, because most likely 'you' will experience everyone dying around you, and eventually 'you' may be the only human in 'your' reality, 'miraculously' persisting with conscious experience even though you may be racked with pain at every moment, ravaged by diseases, etc, etc. And there will always be some branch of reality involving an experiencer until/if reality ends altogether, because that's how infinity works, so this torment will undoubtedly be eternal.`
      Was he right about this? Well, the issue is that it is not clear whether it makes sense to talk about consciousness surviving through branches as we have done here. If we do actually live in an Everettian world, it's clear that we only experience reality along the particular set of branches we have moved along. Why can't our worldline end and our consciousness - a property of the functional organisation of the brain - with it? I don't know. This shit is confusing. My brain didn't evolve for this.
Anyway, I now want to quote some stuff from Chomsky's Who Rules the World?, which I read in 2016 I think, the year of its publication. Hopefully, you will see the connection.
The following is the start of Chapter 8: "The Week the World Stood Still":
"The world stood still some fifty years ago during the last week of October, from the moment when it learned that the Soviet Union had placed nuclear-armed missiles in Cuba until the crisis was officially ended – though, unknown to the public, only officially.
The image of the world standing still is the turn of phrase of Sheldon Stern, former historian at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library, who published the authoritative version of the tapes of the meetings of the Executive Committee of the National Security Council (ExCom) in which Kennedy and a close circle of advisers debated how to respond to the crisis. Those meetings were secretly recorded by the president, which might bear on the fact that his stand throughout the recorded sessions is relatively temperate compared to those of other participants, who were unaware that they were speaking to history.
Stern has now published an accessible and accurate review of this critically important documentary record, finally declassified in the late 1990s. I will keep to that version here. “Never before or since,” he concludes, “has the survival of human civilization been at stake in a few short weeks of dangerous deliberations,” culminating in “the week the world stood still.”[footnote(see text for references]
There was good reason for the global concern. A nuclear war was all too imminent, a war that might “destroy the Northern Hemisphere,” as President Dwight Eisenhower had warned.[footnote] Kennedy’s own judgment was that the probability of war might have been as high as 50 percent.[f] Estimates became higher as the confrontation reached its peak and the “secret doomsday plan to ensure the survival o the government was put into effect” in Washington, as described by journalist Michael Dobbs in his well-researched best seller on the crisis (though he doesn’t explain why there would be much point in doing so, given the likely nature of nuclear war).[f]
Dobbs quotes Dino Brugioni, “a key member of the CIA team monitoring the Soviet missile buildup,” who saw no way out except “war and complete destruction” as the clock moved to “one minute to midnight,” the title of Dobb’s book.[f] Kennedy’s close associate the historian Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. described the events as “the most dangerous moment in human history.”[f] Defense Secretary Robert McNamara wondered aloud whether “he would live to see another Saturday” and later recognized that “we lucked out” – barely.[f]

A closer look at what took place adds grim overtones to these judgments, with reverberations to the present moment.
There are several candidates for “the most dangerous moment.” One is October 27, 1962, when U.S. destroyers enforcing a quarantine around Cuba were dropping depth charges on Soviet submarines. According to Soviet accounts, reported by the National Security Archive, submarine commanders were “rattled enough to talk about firing nuclear torpedoes, whose 15 kiloton explosive yields approximated the bomb that devastated Hiroshima in August 1945.”[f]
In one case, a reported decision to assemble a nuclear torpedo for battle readiness was aborted at the last minute by Second Captain Vasili Arkhipov, who may have saved the world from nuclear disaster.[f] There is little doubt what the U.S. reaction would have been had the torpedo been fired, or how the Russians would have responded as their country was going up in smoke.
Kennedy had already declared the highest nuclear alert short of launch, DEFCON 2, which authorized “NATO aircraft with Turkish pilots…[or others]… to take off, fly to Moscow, and drop a bomb,” according to the well-informed Harvard University strategic analyst Graham Allison, writing in Foreign Affairs.[f]
Another candidate is October 26. That day has been selected as “the most dangerous moment” by B-52 pilot Major Don Clawson, who piloted one of those NATO aircraft and provides a hair-raising description of details of the Chrome Dome (CD) missions during the crisis – “B-52s on airborne alert” with nuclear weapons “on board and ready to use.”
October 26 was the day when “the nation was closest to nuclear war,” he writes in his “irreverent anecdotes of an air force pilot.” On that day, Clawson himself was in a good position to set off a likely terminal cataclysm. He concludes, “We were damned lucky we didn’t blow up the world – and no thanks to the political or military leadership of this country.”
The errors, confusions, near accidents, and miscomprehension of the leadership that Clawson reports are startling enough, but nothing like the operative command-and-control rules – or lack of them. As Clawson recounts his experiences during the fifteen twenty-four-hour CD missions he flew, the maximum possible, the official commanders “did not possess the capability to prevent a rogue crew or crew-member from arming and releasing their thermonuclear weapons,” or even from broadcasting a mission that would have sent off “the entire Airborne Alert force without possibility of recall.” Once the crew was airborne carrying thermonuclear weapons, he writes, “it would have been possible to arm and drop them all with no further input from the ground. There was no inhibitor on any of the systems.”[f]
About one-third of the total force was in the air, according to General David Burchinal, director of plans on the air staff at air force headquarters. The Strategic Air Command (SAC), technically in charge, appears to have had little control. And according to Clawson’s account, the civilian National Command Authority was kept in the dark by SAC, which means that the ExComm “deciders” pondering the fate of the world knew even less. General Burchinal’s oral history is no less hair-raising, and reveals even greater contempt for the civilian command. According to him, Russian capitulation was never in doubt. The CD operations were designed to make it crystal clear to the Russians that they were hardly even competing in the military confrontation, and could quickly have been destroyed.[f]
From the ExComm records, Sheldon Stern concludes that, on October 26, President Kennedy was “leaning towards military action to eliminate the missiles” in Cuba, to be followed by invasion, according to Pentagon plans.[f] It was evident then that the act might have led to terminal war, a conclusion fortified by much later revelations that tactical nuclear weapons had been deployed and that Russian forces were far greater than U.S. intelligence had reported.
As the ExComm meetings were drawing to a close at 6:00 pm on the 26th, a letter arrived from Soviet prime minister Nikita Khrushchev, sent directly to President Kennedy. His “message seemed clear,” Stern writes. “The missiles would be removed if the US promised not to invade Cuba.”[f]
The next day, at 10:00 a.m., the president again turned on the secret tape recorder. He read aloud a wire service report that had just been handed to him: “Premier Khrushchev told President Kennedy I a message today he would withdraw offensive weapons from Cuba if the United States withdrew its rockets from Turkey” – Jupiter missiles with nuclear warheads.[f] The report was soon authenticated.
Though received by the committee as an unexpected bolt from the blue, it had actually been anticipated: “We’ve known this might be coming for a week,” Kennedy informed them. To refuse public acquiescence would be difficult, he realized: these were obsolete missiles, already slated for withdrawal, soon to be replaced by far more lethal and effectively invulnerable submarine-based Polaris missiles. Kennedy recognized that he would be in an “insupportable position if this becomes [Khrushchev’s] proposal,” both because the Turkish missiles were useless and were being withdrawn anyway, and because to any man at the United Nations or any other rational man, it will look like a very fair trade.”[f]

The planners therefore faced a serious dilemma. They had in hand two somewhat different proposals from Khrushchev to end the threat of catastrophic war, and each would seem to any “rational man” to be a fair trade. How then to react?
One possibility would have been to breathe a sigh of relief that civilization could survive and to eagerly accept both offers; to announce that the United States would adhere to international law and remove any threat to invade Cuba; and to carry forward the withdrawal of the obsolete missiles in Turkey, proceeding as planned to upgrade the nuclear threat against the Soviet Union to a far greater one – only part, of course, of the global encirclement of Russia. But that was unthinkable.
The basic reason why no such thought could be contemplated was spelled out by National Security Advisor McGeorge Bundy, a former Harvard dean and reputedly the brightest star in the Camelot firmament. The world, he insisted, must come to understand that “the current threat to peace is not in Turkey, it is in Cuba,” where missiles were directed against the United States.[f] A vastly more powerful U.S. missile force trained on the much weaker and more vulnerable Soviet enemy could not possibly be regarded as a threat to peace, because we are Good, as a great many people in the western hemisphere and beyond could testify – among numerous others, the victims of the ongoing terrorist war that the United States was then waging against Cuba, or those swept up in the “campaign of hatred” in the Arab world that so puzzled Eisenhower, though not the National Security Council, which explained it clearly.
In subsequent colloquy, the president stressed that we would be “in a bad position” if we chose to set off an international conflagration by rejecting proposals that would seem quite reasonable to survivors (if any cared). This “pragmatic” stance was about as far as moral considerations could reach.[f]
In a review of recently released documents on Kennedy-era terror, Harvard University Latin Americanist Jorge Dominguez observes, “Only once in these nearly thousand pages of documentation did a U.S. official raise something that resembled a faint moral objection to U.S.-government sponsored terrorism”: a member of the National Security Council staff suggested that raids that are “haphazard and kill innocents… might mean a bad press in some friendly countries.”[f]
The same attitudes prevailed throughout the internal discussions during the missile crisis, as when Robert Kennedy warned that a full-scale invasion of Cuba would “kill an awful lot of people, and we’re going to take an awful lot of heat on it.”[f] And they prevail to the present, with only the rarest of exceptions, as easily documented.
We might have been “in even a worse position” if the world had known more about what the United States was doing at the time. Only recently was it learned that, six months earlier, the United States had secretly deployed missiles in Okinawa virtually identical to those the Russians would send to Cuba.[f] These were surely aimed at China at a moment of elevated regional tensions. To this day, Okinawa remains a major offensive U.S. military base over the bitter objections of its inhabitants.”

The following comes from Chapter 22: “The Doomsday Clock”.
“The last time the Doomsday Clock reached three minutes before midnight was in 1983, at the time of the Able Archer exercises of the Reagan administration; these exercises simulated attacks on the Soviet Union to test their defense systems. Recently released Russian archives reveal that the Russians were deeply concerned by the operations and were preparing to respond, which would have meant, simply: The End.
We have learned more about these rash and reckless exercises, and about how close the world was to disaster, from U.S. military and intelligence analyst Melvin Goodman, who was CIA division chief and senior analyst at the Office of Soviet Affairs at the time. “In addition to the Able Archer mobilization exercise that alarmed the Kremlin,” Goodman writes, “the Reagan administration authorized unusually aggressive military exercises near the Soviet border that, in some cases, violated Soviet territorial sovereignty. The Pentagon’s risky measures included sending U.S. strategic bombers over the North Pole to test Soviet radar, and naval exercises in wartime approaches to the USSR where U.S. warships had previously not entered. Additional secret operations simulated surprise naval attacks on Soviet targets.”[f]
We now know that the world was saved from likely nuclear destruction in those frightening days by the decision of a Russian officer, Stanislav Petrov, not to transmit to higher authorities the report of automated detection systems that the USSR was under missile attack. Accordingly, Petrov takes his place alongside Russian submarine commander Vasili Arkhipov, who, at a dangerous moment of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, refused to authorize the launching of nuclear torpedoes when the subs were under attack by U.S. destroyers enforcing a quarantine.
Other recently revealed examples enrich the already frightening record. Nuclear security expert Bruce Blair reports that “the closest the US came to an inadvertent strategic launch decision by the President happened in 1979, when a NORAD early warning training tape depicting a full-scale Soviet strategic strike inadvertently coursed through the actual early warning network. National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski was called twice in the night and told the US was under attack, and he was just picking up the phone to persuade President Carter that a full-scale response needed to be authorize right away, when a third call told him it was a false alarm.”[f]
This newly revealed example brings to mind a critical incident of 1995, when the trajectory of a U.S.-Norwegian rocket carrying scientific equipment resembled the path of a nuclear missile. This elicited Russian concerns that quickly reached President Boris Yeltsin, who had to decide whether to launch a nuclear strike.”[f]
Blair adds other examples from his own experience. In one case, at the time of the 1967 Middle East war, “a carrier nuclear-aircraft crew was sent an actual attack order instead of an exercise/training nuclear order.” A few years later, in the early 1970s, the Strategic Air Command, in Omaha, “retransmitted an exercise… launch order as an actual real-world launch order.” In both cases code checks had failed; human intervention prevented the launch. “But you get the drift here,” Blair adds. “It just wasn’t that rare for these kinds of snafus to occur.”
Blair made these comments in reaction to a report by airman John Bordne has only recently been cleared by the U.S. Air Force. Bordne was serving on the U.S. military base in Okinawa in October 1962, at the time of the Cuban Missile Criss and a moment of serious tensions in Asia as well. The U.S. nuclear alert system had been raised to DEFCON 2, one level below DEFCON 1, when nuclear missiles can be launched immediately. At the peak of the crisis, on October 28, a missile crew received authorization to launch its nuclear missiles, in error. They decided not to, averting likely nuclear war and joining Petrov and Arkhipov in the pantheon of men who decided to disobey protocol and thereby saved the world.
As Blair observed, such incidents are not uncommon. One recent expert study found dozens of false alarms every year during the period reviewed, 1977 to 1983; the study concluded that the range is 43 to 255 per year. The author of the study, Seth Baum, summarizes with appropriate words: “Nuclear war is the black swan we can never see, except in that brief moment when it is killing us. We delay eliminating the risk at our own peril. Now is the time to address the threat, because now we are still alive.”[f]
These reports, like those of Eric Schlosser’s extensive review Command and Control, keep mostly to U.S. systems.[f] The Russian ones are doubltess much more error-prone. That is not to mention the extreme danger posed by the systems of others, notably Pakistan.
Sometimes the threat has not been accident, but adventurism, as in the case of Able Archer. The most extreme case was the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, when the threat of disaster was all too real. The way it was handled is shocking; so is the manner in which it is commonly interpreted, as we have seen.
With this grim record in mind, it is useful to look at strategic debates and planning. One chilling case is the Clinton-era 1995 STRATCOM study “Essentials of Post-Cold War Deterrence.” The study calls for retaining the right of first strike, even against nonnuclear states. It explains that nuclear weapons are constantly used, in the sense that they “cast a shadow over any crisis or conflict.” It also urges a “national persona” of irrationality and vindictiveness to intimidate the world.
Current doctrine is explored in the lead article in the journal International Security, one of the most authoritative in the domain of strategic doctrine.[f] The authors explain that the United States is committed to “strategic primacy” – that is, insulation from retaliatory strike. This is the logic behind Obama’s “new triad” (strengthening submarine and land-based missiles and the bomber force), along with missile defense to counter a retaliatory strike. The concern raised by the authors is that the U.S. demand for strategic primacy might induce China to react by abandoning its “no first use” policy and by expanding its limited deterrent. The authors think that they will not, but the prospect remains uncertain. Clearly the doctrine enhances the dangers in a tense and conflicted region.
The same is true of NATO expansion to the east in violation of verbal promises made to Mikhail Gorbachev when the USSR was collapsing and he agreed to allow a unified Germany to become part of NATO – quite a remarkable concession when one thinks about the history of the century. Expansion to East Germany took place at once. In the following years, NATO expanded to Russia’s borders; there are now substantial threats even to incorporate Ukraine, in Russia’s geostrategic heartland.[f] One can imagine how the United States would react if the Warsaw Pact were still alive, most of Latin America had joined, and now Mexico and Canada were applying for membership.
Aside from that, Russia understands as well as China (and U.S. strategists, for that matter) that the U.S. missile defense systems near Russia’s borders are, in effect, a first strike weapon, aimed to establish strategic primacy – immunity from retaliation. Perhaps their missions is utterly unfeasible, as some specialists argue. But the targets can never be confident of that. And Russia’s militant reactions are quite naturally interpreted by NATO as a threat to the West.
One prominent British Ukraine scholar poses what he calls a “fateful geographical paradox”: that NATO “exists to manage the risks created by its existence.”[f]
The threats are very real right now. Fortunately, the shooting down of a Russian plane by a Turkish F-16 in November 2015 did not lead to an international incident, but it might have, particularly given the circumstances. The plane was on a bombing mission in Syria. It passed for a mere seventeen seconds through a fringe of Turkish territory that protrudes into Syria, and evidently was heading for Syria, where it crashed. Shooting it down appears to have been a needlessly reckless and provocative act, and an act with consequences. In reaction, Russia announced that its bombers will henceforth be accompanied by jet fighters and that it is deploying sophisticated anti-aircraft missile systems in Syria. Russia also ordered its missile cruiser Moskva, with its long-range air defense system, to move closer to shore, so that it may be “ready to destroy any aerial target posing a potential danger to our aircraft,” Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu announced. All of this sets the stage for confrontations that could be lethal.[f]
Tensions are also constant at NATO-Russian borders, including military maneuvers on both sides. Shortly after the Doomsday Clock was moved ominously close to midnight, the national press reported that “U.S. military combat vehicles paraded Wednesday through an Estonian city that juts into Russia, a symbolic act that highlighted the stakes for both sides amid the worst tensions between the West and Russia since the Cold War.”[f] Shortly before, a Russian warplane came within seconds of colliding with a Danish civilian airliner. Both sides are practicing rapid mobilization and redeployment of forces to the Russia-NATO border, and “both believe a war is no longer unthinkable.”[f]
If that is so, both sides are beyond insanity, since a war might well destroy everything. It has been recognized for decades that a first strike by a major power might destroy the attacker, even without retaliation, simply from the effects of nuclear winter.
But that is today’s world. And not just today’s – that is what we have been living with for seventy years. The reasoning throughout is remarkable. As we have seen, security for the population is typically not a leading concern of policymakers. That has been true from the earliest days of the nuclear age, when in the centers of policy formation there were no efforts – apparently not even expressed thoughts – to eliminate the one serious potential threat to the United States, as might have been possible. And so matters continue to the present, in ways just briefly sampled.
That is the world we have been living in, and live in today. Nuclear weapons pose a constant danger of instant destruction, but at least we know in principle how to alleviate the threat, even to eliminate it, an obligation undertaken (and disregarded) by the nuclear powers that have signed the Non-Proliferation Treaty. The threat of global warming is not instantaneous, though it is dire in the longer term and might escalate suddenly. That we have the capacity to deal with it is not entirely clear, but there can be no doubt that the longer the delay, the more extreme the calamity.
Prospects for decent long-term survival are not high unless there is a significant change of course. A large share of the responsibility is in our hands – the opportunities as well.”


Maybe in most worlds the world already ended..
or maybe there is one universe after all. cosmologists have no idea

Thursday, 3 May 2018

Perhaps the Most Significant Thesis Developed so far by the Field of "Cultural Evolution"

http://rstb.royalsocietypublishing.org/content/367/1589/657

because i needed to ejaculate like a stressed squid

It is incredibly cognitively taxing to study a full-time load of second/third year mathematics and computer science subjects. I spend literally every waking hour thinking through abstracta in my head. I have left the super-symbolic realm. I can hardly remember where I'm walking.
And Christ is learning C a pain...

And it's the first time in my life that I've been spending hours (more than 20!) of intense, feverish concentration on single intellectual projects which nevertheless end up as failures before deadline (like that sum-identity proof that I couldn't get out for Discrete Mathematics and Graph Theory Adv today, after two days of utterly single-minded obsession and literally about 20 pages of scribbling). Oh well!

I wish I had more time to do my old things. Moving out again in a week. And intermittently reading a small, old history book I got from my Newcastle grandparents' library in early 2017 (?) (late December 2016?) called The Economic Development of Australia. I picked it off the shelf all that time ago because I thought it would be a great source to savage libertarian arguments against protectionism in larval or fledgling states, back when I was exercised by economic arguments and thought it was my duty (/thought it might be impressive to some people/made me feel good) to write long essays against economic thinking which grated strongly against my moral dispositions and which I thought was clearly fallacious and stupid. One apparently sensible story I can adduce to explain why this concerns me somewhat less now is that I think even just in the last two years the power of the ideology of social democracy has grown immensely while the influence of right-wing libertarianism has waned massively, especially as many right-wing libertarians have transmogrified into white nationalists. Regardless of the veracity of the claim (and I think this consideration ranks lowly in terms of the causal story of how I came to be less preoccupied with matters of 'economics' (mostly it was finding other things to spend my time thinking about, and that I just generally became somewhat less emotionally exercised by politics)) I shall not be writing about economics for a while. I may, however, extract some passages from this book as a middle finger to my ideological enemies on this matter.

Still trying to fill that void in my life... War never changes