A Very Brief Update

I just wrote a compiler, graduated from college, and will soon be moving across the country in order to spend the summer at the Singularity Institute for Artificial Intelligence. Posting will resume shortly.

Off-Topic: I Wasn’t Born This Way

I will say first that The Fame Monster, Ms. GaGa’s debut effort, is a spectacularly well-crafted piece of pop music; it is without a doubt one of my favorite albums.

I will say second that there is a preponderance of evidence suggesting that sexual orientation is significantly (but not entirely) determined by genetics. In that literal sense, we are indeed born this way.

And I will say third that I am bisexual, and that I’ve known that on one level or another since I was nine years old.

 

Those disclaimers out of the way, I have a bone to pick. Being “born this way” is nothing to be proud of. There’s nothing even slightly praiseworthy about being queer.

Coming out, now, that’s something to be proud of. It can be difficult. It requires courage. In its own small way, it advances the cause of equality.

If you’re straight, being an ally to the queer community is something to be proud of.

Getting someone awesome to fall in love with you, that’s something to be proud of, too, because of what it says about you.

Pride is something you have to earn. You shouldn’t be proud to be American, proud to be white, proud to be descended from George Washington, or proud to be queer.

By the same token, these aren’t things to be ashamed of, either. You can’t take credit, good or bad, for the hand of cards you’re dealt.

 

This was something I had to learn the hard way. Recent research suggests that making this mistake in the realm of intelligence can be costly. If you believe that intelligence is something you’re born with, if you’re praised as a child for being smart and not for working hard, your work ethic will suffer. It took me a long time to learn that I shouldn’t be proud of my intelligence. The interesting things about me, the parts of me that are awesome, I earned those. If I want to become more awesome (and I do), I’ll have to earn that, too.

That was my mistake. Ms. GaGa’s error is a little different. She thinks we should be proud

‘Cause God makes no mistakes.

She’ll be heartbroken when she learns about the blind spot in the eye of every vertebrate. Or the conjunction fallacy. Or cancer.

Sorry to be such a drag.

What I Mean by “The Singularity”

This is the first post in a series in which I will be making the strongest argument I can that the Singularity is worth taking very seriously. But before I begin to lay out that argument, I should specify what precisely this whole “Singularity” thing is in the first place.

Eliezer Yudkowsky has identified four schools of thought on the Singularity. The third school he describes is the “Intelligence Explosion” theory, which claims that if humans become able to augment their own intelligence (or create intelligences smarter than they are), that will make them even better at augmenting their own intelligence, and a positive feedback loop will be created. This feedback loop will continue and accelerate until some fundamental physical limit is reached, at which point the entire universe will be thoroughly unrecognizable to us mortals.

I think that this is plausible, but I do not think I need to go quite so far. Rather, I shall argue that:

  1. A smarter-than-human intelligence will be created at some point in the future, almost certainly within the next century or two.
  2. If it is not friendly, we will be completely screwed.
  3. Therefore, we should work to ensure that it is friendly.

There are currently three feasible avenues to smarter-than-human intelligence: human intelligence augmentation (IA) through some combination of bioengineering and cybernetics; “uploading” of human minds to computer hardware; and artificial software intelligence (AI). I think AI will probably be the first of these approaches to succeed, but my argument should apply to any of them.

Next: Is smarter-than-human intelligence possible?

Free Will in Five Minutes

There are two popular theories about free will which are incompatible with each other and with reality. The positive position is that we, as human beings, have this magical thing called free will that is independent of physics and causality, which allows us to make truly “free” choices. The negative position is that we are mere particles, and so there is no free will and life is meaningless.

The error in both of these theories is that they are conflating two propositions which are actually independent of each other:

  1. Human beings can do whatever they want.
  2. The decisions of human beings are not wholly deterministic.

The positive position is that both of these statements are true. The negative position is that they are both false: our decisions are deterministic, therefore we cannot do whatever we want.

But hold on a second, and let us see if we can use some Science here. Proposition 2 is false. The decisions of human beings are wholly deterministic, because the universe is entirely deterministic.¹ Does this mean that Proposition 1 is also false, as the popular negative position holds?

Of course not. Your actions are entirely determined by your wants. All determinism tells us is that our wants themselves are entirely determined by physical processes. This even has the advantage of being intuitive²: even when I do things I don’t want to do (like math homework), I have some greater want in mind that makes them worthwhile (like graduating from college).

You can do whatever you want. But as the staggeringly important philosopher Robert Nozick has observed,

No one has ever announced that because determinism is true thermostats do not control temperature.

This position is known as compatibilism.

 

1: Some accounts of quantum mechanics disagree, but the lack of determinism in those accounts certainly has nothing to do with human decision-making processes.

2: Though please remember that intuition is not any kind of proof, and not very good evidence either.

If the Universe is Spatially Infinite…

…there are an infinite number of identical copies of you on an infinite number of identical copies of Earth. You all always make identical decisions.

…there are an infinite number of identical copies of Earth, except that each of them is also occupied by Thor.

…as above, but it’s the Thor from Marvel Comics.

…there are an infinite number of Earths with alternate histories because they have dragons on them.

…on an infinite number of those Earths, the dragons are all nazis.

…billions of times every second, an infinite number of identical copies of you spring into existence in the depths of space and immediately die freezing and suffocating.

…there are an infinite number of people who are just like you except they’re serial killers.

…identical copies of everyone you love are being tortured to death right now.

…by identical copies of you.

…there’s still no god.

…there’s no hope of ever fixing the universe’s horrors, because if it were possible it would have been done already.

…an infinite number of identical copies of me are hoping that the universe isn’t infinite.

A Mystery Appears

If you take a peek at the menu below my site’s header, you’ll notice a link to a new page, mysteriously labelled “A.Q.”

What does it do? What is it for? The world may never know.

Escaping the Chinese Room

Let’s say I have a computer program that speaks Chinese as well as a human native speaker of the language; I’ve had people who speak fluent Chinese talk to the program using instant messages for an extended period of time, and none of them have been able to figure out that my program isn’t another person. Now, suppose I print out an English version of this program and store it in some filing cabinets in a room. I go into the room, lock the door, and begin exchanging messages with a Chinese speaker by passing notes under the door. Each time a note is passed in, I follow the written steps of my program to figure out what reply to make, write that down, and then slide it back under the door. Like before, anyone reading the notes I pass back under the door is completely unable to tell that I’m not a native Chinese speaker.¹

John Searle formulated this thought experiment so that he could ask whether the person in the room could be said to understand Chinese in the same sense as a native speaker. If we admit that they are not the same, as it seems we must, we must also admit that a computer running the program likewise does not understand Chinese, and thus that it is impossible for a computer to think and understand as humans do.

The problem with this conclusion is that it requires that neurons and brains possess qualities which transistors and computer chips do not. Searle suggested that neurons have “causal properties” which cannot be detected by outside observers but nevertheless give rise to the mind and consciousness. Another possibility is that, as Sir Roger Penrose has proposed, microtubules in neurons exploit quantum effects to perform hypercomputation.

I would like to propose that brains are actually made out of magical fairies, which is equally well-supported by the available evidence and easier to explain to young children.

Or perhaps it is time to go back and double-check the logic leading to Searle’s conclusion.

The crux of Searle’s argument is that brains do this thing called “understanding” that computer programs (algorithms, to be more precise) cannot. If we are reductionists (and we should be!), then understanding is something that can be explained in entirely physical terms. Either there is an as-yet-undetected Fairy Force at work in human brains, or the Chinese room is capable of understanding.

There is no choice but to bite one of these bullets; I find the latter more palatable.

 

1: Except for how long it takes for me to make my replies. We can ignore this for the sake of the thought experiment, but I should still note that it would take an unimaginably huge amount of time to walk through every step of a complex computer program that was designed to run on a machine that performs 2 or 3 billion operations each second.

Escaping Mary’s Room

As soon as a philosopher begins talking about mental states as though they are fundamental or uniquely important things and not convenient abstractions for talking about particles bopping around in a particular way, you should know you’re in trouble. It’s an unfortunately common variety of motivated thinking to come up with a grand theory of the universe that just happens to have the theorizer in the center; be wary.

While this is good advice, it is not really a counter-argument. There are arguments against dualisms in general, but I will instead be focusing on specific errors in these next couple posts, on the grounds that dealing with them is both more straightforward and more entertaining.

So. Mary’s Room is a thought experiment first formulated by Frank Jackson as follows:

Mary is a brilliant scientist who is, for whatever reason, forced to investigate the world from a black and white room via a black and white television monitor. She specializes in the neurophysiology of vision and acquires, let us suppose, all the physical information there is to obtain about what goes on when we see ripe tomatoes, or the sky, and use terms like ‘red’, ‘blue’, and so on. She discovers, for example, just which wavelength combinations from the sky stimulate the retina, and exactly how this produces via the central nervous system the contraction of the vocal cords and expulsion of air from the lungs that results in the uttering of the sentence ‘The sky is blue’. [...] What will happen when Mary is released from her black and white room or is given a color television monitor? Will she learn anything or not?

(Via Wikipedia)

Or, to put it another way, Mary is a person who has complete and exhaustive physical knowledge of everything about color and how humans perceive it, but who has never experienced it herself. If she then experiences it, can she be said to have acquired some (non-physical) knowledge she didn’t previously possess?

This thought experiment has been the subject of a great deal of debate among philosophers of mind. Which is silly, because the answer is trivially and obviously no.

Mary’s complete and exhaustive physical knowledge of human color perception must include knowledge of how her own brain experiences colors. The human brain deals with experiential knowledge as well as explicit verbal knowledge; I know how to ride a bike, but this has nothing to do with my knowledge of gyroscopes and angular momentum. But this does not and should not lead us to say that my knowledge of how to ride a bike is somehow non-physical. It is merely represented and processed differently by my brain.

And yet somehow people have been arguing about this (usually badly) for more than 20 years. Five or ten minutes should really be enough. Let’s move on.

Tomorrow: I do not understand Chinese.

Variations on a Theme

If a man proves too clearly and convincingly to himself . . . that a tiger is an optical illusion–well, he will find out he is wrong. The tiger will himself intervene in the discussion, in a manner which will be in every sense conclusive.

- G. K. Chesterton

In philosophy, or religion, or ethics, or politics, two and two might make five, but when one was designing a gun or an aeroplane they had to make four.

- George Orwell, 1984

Thus Aristotle laid it down that a heavy object falls faster than a light one does. The important thing about this idea is not that he was wrong, but that it never occurred to Aristotle to check it.

- Albert Szent-Györgyi de Nagyrápolt

Tomorrow, I escape from a locked room.

Perfect Prior Probabilities

The prior probability of a hypothesis is 1/x, where x is the number of bits it would take to write a computer program that prints a complete description of the hypothesis.

Consider a computer program that prints a string of bits that represents the entire universe. Or one possible configuration of it. That bitstring is a complete hypothesis.

One such computer program might represent the operations of our best approximation of the laws of physics. It would be relatively short, giving it a fairly high prior probability. And it would make pretty good predictions, so you’d update it to have a higher posterior probability upon observing, well, almost anything. This is physics we’re talking about, after all.

A rival theory is “god did it.” But to get a computer program to print out a complete description of the universe, you need to have some math in there. And if your program has the same output either way, the version without the description of god will be shorter, and thus more likely.

Tada! Occam’s razor!

Throw in some Bayesian updating, and you’ve got the best possible method for arriving at accurate beliefs.

Soon: Bayes v. Science. Two enter, one leaves.