Sister blog of Physicists of the Caribbean in which I babble about non-astronomy stuff, because everyone needs a hobby

Sunday, 19 May 2019

Free will is not an illusion, except that it is, says philosopher

I find attempts to reconcile free will and determinism like these to be interesting, but not convincing. I believe in free will over determinism and reject the notion that they are compatible. Regular readers will be aware that this is something I only ever try and rationalise, not investigate from first principles. The main problem is that defining "free will" is bloody hard, and not something I feel I can write down on a whim. At some point I will try and explain what I actually mean by free will, but for the moment, articles like this are helpful for me only in discovering what it is I already believe. And to anyone who says, "but that's not very scientific of you, Rhys !" I will cheerfully smile back in agreement.

Anyway, on to the article. There are some aspects I agree with :
I am quite happy to concede that free will requires intentional agency, alternative possibilities among which we can choose, and causation of our actions by our mental states. I think the mistake in the standard arguments against free will lies in a failure to distinguish between different levels of description. If we are searching for free will at the fundamental physical level, we are simply searching in the wrong place.
I agree that agency and intent are real, and cannot be due to the action of atoms bashing about. The action of choosing is a non-physical thing. But I disagree with the idea that it's simply an emergent property, as the author appears to suggest :
The neuroscientific skeptic is absolutely right that, at the fundamental physical level, there is no such thing as intentional goal-directed agency. The mistake is to claim that there is no such thing at all. Intentional agency is an emergent higher-level property, but it is no less real for that. Whenever our best scientific explanations of a particular phenomenon commit us to postulating certain entities or properties, then it is very good scientific practice to treat those postulated entities or properties as genuinely real. We observe patterns and regularities in our social and human environment, and the best way to make sense of those patterns and regularities is by assigning intentional agency to the people involved.
Meteorologists are interested in higher-level patterns and regularities. In fact, the very notion of weather is a higher-level notion. At the level of individual air molecules, there is no such thing as weather. Perhaps the system at that very fine-grained level of description would indeed behave deterministically according to classical physical laws, but as you move to a more macroscopic description, you abstract away from this microphysical detail. That is not driven by ignorance on our part, but by the explanatory need to focus on the most salient regularities.
But isn't "weather" just a label for system of air molecules ? It certainly makes some kind of sense to think of the larger properties of a weather system being responsible for the behaviour of a storm or a whirlwind, rather than having describe how every single friggin' molecule interacts. And those larger properties are indeed emergent : you cannot describe the air pressure of a single molecule, or the humidity of a single water atom - those properties only exist in bulk. So the idea that the actions of individual atoms is governed by the emergent properties in a top-down approach is undeniably useful.

But I don't think this invalidates the bottom-up nature of the emergent properties in the first place. Suppose, during a storm, two air molecules collide and bounce apart. During that interaction, their trajectories should be determined only by their speed and their interaction with each other. The overall properties of the storm don't directly control their behaviour : the properties of the storm only emerge from the collective behaviour of countless air molecules. That, to me, is what emergence actually is. The storm itself is just a label for this vast collective behaviour; though it may be impossibly complex to actually calculate the behaviour of the storm by monitoring the actions of every molecule, in principle there's no reason this couldn't be done (neglecting quantum effects for the moment).

If you were modelling a weather system particle by particle, you would give each particle its various properties and find that humidity and pressure and so on emerge from the individual elements. At no point would you never need to specify the global parameters, because they result implicitly and inevitably from the local ones. Conversely, you couldn't use the global parameters to directly specify the local ones.

When we talk about "humidity", we use a label of a physically meaningful state. It's helpful to use this in simulations because it's usually not possible to model every particle. "Humidity" is a just a word, a way to describe how many water molecules are present per unit volume : what it refers to is physically real, but humidity itself is in a sense not real - there are no humidity particles to be found anywhere. Emergent properties are simply descriptions : they are convenient and useful, because they let us approximate enormous numbers of particles with much smaller quantities, but they are not physical and don't fundamentally drive anything.
We can attach probabilities to different scenarios, but it’s not the case that the weather state at the present time fully determines the weather state in a few days’ time. Multiple different trajectories are entirely possible. Likewise, to describe the complete state of a human agent, we do not describe the full microphysical state of every elementary particle in the brain and body. That would be the wrong level of description. If you ask psychologists, cognitive scientists, and economists, they will give you different theories of how human choice-making works. But they all treat human beings as agents who are faced with choices between different options, so all these theories assume alternative possibilities.
So far as I can tell, the author here means for us to discard the prospect of true randomness (i.e. from quantum effects or whatever) for the sake of argument. In that case, I think the weather state at any given time does determine its future evolution (barring external influences like a change in solar radiation). I cannot see how an emergent collective property - a description - could possibly be said to control the behaviour of individual atoms. The motion of a single atom is influenced only by the actions of those it directly interacts with, not the emergent property itself.

In that sense, I see the definition of free will here as missing the point. If it's something that simply arises from the collective action of smaller processes, if it's just a label for a vastly complex set of interactions because we can't chart them all, if, in effect, it's simply way of saying, "this is all just too complex for us to understand", then it's robbed of force. I don't see how if free will is merely a label for a complex set of deterministic processes then it can be anything other than an illusion.

If free will as I understand it truly exists, then it ought to be capable of driving the movements of individual atoms just as much as it is moving arms and legs. For instance, it should be possible to see a flow of electrons develop in the nervous system that simply cannot be explained by tracking the behaviour of every individual particle involved.

This is an uncomfortable notion, to be sure, but I don't see the alternatives as being any more agreeable.
Let’s say I now form the intention to move my arm to lift this glass to drink some water. What should we cite as the cause of this particular arm movement? A leading philosopher raised an important challenge against mental causation, the so-called causal exclusion argument. If you consider a particular effect and you’ve found a cause that fully accounts for that effect, you should not simultaneously postulate yet another distinct cause for the same effect. That would be an act of causal overattribution. You can fully account for the action by reference to the physical state of my brain, so there is no reason to postulate yet another cause—namely, a distinct mental cause. 
My response, which Peter Menzies and I developed, is that if we accept the interventionist theory of causation, the causal exclusion argument does not generally hold. For any given system, the most systematic causal relations may not involve the lowest-level variables, but could involve higher-level variables, or there might be systematic causal relations at both levels.
But which process fundamentally drives the other ? It's easy to see, in principle, how the action of one particle can influence another, and another and another, and so on until the collective action causes me to go and get a glass of water or torture a duck or whatever. In contrast, I cannot see how my desire (to torture ducks or drink water) itself can then be said to drive the actions of my individual atoms - at least not in sense that's meant here. Rather, what I mean by free will is something I daresay is more mystical : the idea that my choices have little or nothing to do with how the electrons in my brain move, but instead that my will (whatever that is) does not merely ultimately describe a flow of electrons but actually controls them.

I haven't got the foggiest idea how this works, or how compatible it is with the scientific world view. I'm simply saying that's my view of free will regardless of what anyone else thinks. And don't worry, I have no secret desire to torture ducks.

Yes, Determinists, There Is Free Will - Issue 72: Quandary - Nautilus

It's not just in politics where otherwise smart people consistently talk past one another. People debating whether humans have free will also have this tendency. Neuroscientist and free-will skeptic Sam Harris has dueled philosopher and free-will defender Daniel Dennett for years and once invited him onto his podcast with the express purpose of finally having a meeting of minds.

Wednesday, 15 May 2019

Bringing science and philosophy back together

I've got a lot of mixed feelings on this one. There are aspects I strongly agree with, others I think are more questionable, and in the end I simply don't get the author's main point. What, exactly, does he want scientists to do differently ? I think the assumptions he describes are exactly what everyone already makes, implicitly, because there's no way to proceed otherwise. If the change really required is "urgent", then that suggests we're doing something fundamentally wrong, but he never says what that is. I do agree, though, with the sentiment that there are lessons from the scientific approach that could be applied more broadly.
Scientists today might not hold that theories can be ‘deduced’ from phenomena by induction, but they do hold that evidence alone (plus explanatory considerations) decides what theories are accepted and rejected in science. In other words, they take for granted one or other version of standard empiricism, the doctrine that evidence decides in science what theories are to be accepted and rejected, with the simplicity, unity or explanatory power of theories playing a role as well, but not in such a way that the world, or the phenomena, are assumed to be simple, unified or comprehensible. The crucial point, inherited from Newton, is that no thesis about the world can be accepted as a part of scientific knowledge independently of evidence, let alone in violation of evidence.
Well, yeah. I'd put more emphasis on the "plus explanatory considerations" bit personally, but basically... yeah. Theories that flatly contradict the evidence are wrong. Theories that agree with the evidence get to live another day (and can even be eventually proven correct, after a fashion). If they make testable predictions, so much the better. How could anyone argue with an evidence-based approach ? How would you ever justify saying, "I believe in this theory even though it gives totally different results from reality even in very carefully controlled conditions ?". You never would. Even the most irrational people at least wave their hands and say that something went wrong : the stars weren't aligned correctly, someone was too skeptical... no-one openly avoids making excuses.
This Newtonian conception of science bequeathed to philosophy a fundamental problem about the nature of science that, for most philosophers, remains unsolved down to today. It is the problem of induction... For example, if the accepted theory is Newton’s law of gravitation, one rival, up till now just as empirically successful as Newton’s theory, might assert: everything occurs as Newton’s theory predicts until 2050, when gravitation abruptly becomes a repulsive force. Another such rival might assert: everything occurs as Newton’s theory predicts except for gold spheres in outer space over 1,000 tons in mass that attract each other in accordance with an inverse cube law (instead of the inverse square law of Newton’s theory). These rivals are horribly disunified, and somewhat implausible: they are, however, for the moment, just as empirically successful as Newton’s theory.
Surely, if ever there were grounds to apply Occam's Razor, it would be here. You can't just tack on extra stuff to a theory for shits and giggles, you have to justify it. That's also partly what evidence is for : not just testing predictions, but inspiring ideas in the first place. You can't invoke entities beyond necessity. If your theory demands the existence of giant gold spheres for some reason, then fair enough, but if it doesn't, you don't have any grounds to include them. A theory should have explanatory power, so unless giant gold spheres actually play a role in that, you've gone from "legitimate scientific theory" to "making stuff up".
Evidence cannot verify a theory. It cannot even select a theory – since infinitely many disunified rivals will always fit the available evidence equally well, or even better. This famous problem – Hume’s problem of induction – in effect decisively refutes the Newtonian conception of science, still accepted by the scientific community today. 
I really fail to see how. Yes, you can just make up whatever extra nonsense you want and tack it on to a theory, but unless your additions actually change the theory's explanatory power, then you haven't really made a new theory at all. It's the fundamental mechanism the theory proposes that's important : everything else is superfluous. For example it's easy to change the theory of Newtonian gravity such that it doesn't obey an inverse square law, i.e. that it goes to the power of -2.01 or -2.02 and so on (it's also easy to refute this). But it's not at all easy to propose a wholly new mechanism, which is why it took centuries to go from the concept of gravity as a force to gravity as the curvature of spacetime.

The author then considers including Occam's Razor but doesn't think that it helps much :
But there is still a problem. If physics, in particular, persistently accepts unified theories only, even though endlessly many disunified rivals are available that fit the available facts just as well, or even better, this must mean, whether it is acknowledged or not, that physics makes a big, highly problematic assumption about the nature of the Universe. It means that physics makes the big assumption: the Universe is such that all disunified theories are false. There is some kind of underlying unity in nature.
Yes and no. Yes because it's still not clear why this is any kind of problem : of course we assume the laws of physics are the same everywhere, because without this you can simply invoke magic to explain anything; making assumptions isn't a problem in itself. But also no, because the evidenced-based nature of scientific inquiry makes it conceivable that these assumptions can be disproven. We can start by postulating laws that apply everywhere, but we could in principle discover regions where they don't apply.
This assumption of underlying unity is, however, accepted independently of evidence, even in a sense in violation of evidence (in that it clashes with endlessly many disunified theories even more empirically successful than the theories we accept). 
But it's not in violation of the evidence unless you have evidence all those other theories are true. Again, subtle modifications are not enough to make a new theory. Neither are adding in extraneous untestable components that don't change the explanation. You can't modify science the way you can add unrelated amendments to American laws.
The conclusion is inescapable: science cannot proceed without making, implicitly or explicitly, a persistent metaphysical assumption of unity – ‘metaphysical’ because it is too imprecise to be verified or falsified by evidence. 
Yes, and there's no problem with that.
The current orthodox conception of science, inherited from Newton, and still taken for granted by scientists today, that science must appeal only to evidence, and must not make metaphysical assumptions about the nature of the universe independently of evidence, is untenable, and must be rejected.
I'm not sure this is wrong so much as it's an incredibly silly way of phrasing things. I've discussed some of the basic assumptions of science before (though the author's approach is more sophisticated and interesting than mine), but I think they are implicitly obvious to everyone : awareness of them doesn't change the scientific approach; they are already part of the scientific approach for very good reasons.
Aim-oriented empiricism, as I have called this new conception of science, represents the metaphysical assumption in the form of a hierarchy of assumptions. As we go up this hierarchy, assumptions become less and less substantial, and so more and more likely to be true, and more and more nearly such that their truth is required for science, or the pursuit of knowledge to be possible at all. In this way, we create a framework of assumptions (and associated methods) high up in the hierarchy, very likely to be true, within which much more substantial assumptions (and associated methods) low down in the hierarchy can be critically assessed and, we might hope, improved.
I've also discussed a plausibility index of scientific theories and how they move up and down the ladder according to evidence. Extending this to methods as well as conclusions is perfectly reasonable, and provides a clear reminder that we're making assumptions. But I see no way to avoid making the assumptions we've already chosen to make, so I don't see how it changes anything. It's an interesting article, but I come away no clearer than when I started as to what the problem is, why it needs solving, how it can be solved, and what the consequences will be if it is.

Bring back science and philosophy as natural philosophy - Nicholas Maxwell | Aeon Essays

There are decisive grounds for holding that we need to bring about a revolution in philosophy, a revolution in science, and then put the two together again to create a modern version of natural philosophy. Once upon a time, it was not just that philosophy was a part of science; rather, science was a branch of philosophy.

One man can't make a difference

At least not directly. But 3.5% of the population can, as long as they take direct, non-violent action. Note that this study focuses exclusively on regime change, and not campaigns in general.
Overall, nonviolent campaigns were twice as likely to succeed as violent campaigns: they led to political change 53% of the time compared to 26% for the violent protests. This was partly the result of strength in numbers. Chenoweth argues that nonviolent campaigns are more likely to succeed because they can recruit many more participants from a much broader demographic, which can cause severe disruption that paralyses normal urban life and the functioning of society. Overall, the nonviolent campaigns attracted around four times as many participants (200,000) as the average violent campaign (50,000). 
Chenoweth admits that she was initially surprised by her results. But she now cites many reasons that nonviolent protests can garner such high levels of support. Perhaps most obviously, violent protests necessarily exclude people who abhor and fear bloodshed, whereas peaceful protesters maintain the moral high ground. By engaging broad support across the population, nonviolent campaigns are also more likely to win support among the police and the military – the very groups that the government should be leaning on to bring about order...  but some relatively large nonviolent protests also failed, such as the protests against the communist party in East Germany in the 1950s, which attracted 400,000 members (around 2% of the population) at their peak, but still failed to bring about change. 
In terms of the specific strategies that are used, general strikes “are probably one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, single method of nonviolent resistance”, Chenoweth says. But they do come at a personal cost, whereas other forms of protest can be completely anonymous. 
Regarding the “3.5% rule”, she points out that while 3.5% is a small minority, such a level of active participation probably means many more people tacitly agree with the cause... Ultimately, she would like our history books to pay greater attention to nonviolent campaigns rather than concentrating so heavily on warfare.
An interesting and important message. It does focus on sheer numbers very heavily though. It'd be nice to look more in to some of those exceptional cases where large numbers failed and small ones succeed. It's easy enough to see why this would happen in the case of military coups; there are countless historical examples of larger forces being defeated by smaller ones. It's not at all so obvious why protests fail and succeed. It's hard to believe it all boils down to the total fraction of a population. It would also be interesting to consider the much more general conditions under which protests of any kind succeed and fail. There won't be exact rules, but I'd bet anything you like there are common trends.

The '3.5% rule': How a small minority can change the world

In 1986, millions of Filipinos took to the streets of Manila in peaceful protest and prayer in the People Power movement. The Marcos regime folded on the fourth day. In 2003, the people of Georgia ousted Eduard Shevardnadze through the bloodless Rose Revolution, in which protestors stormed the parliament building holding the flowers in their hands.

Thursday, 9 May 2019

David Attenbro is IN DA HOUSE

At least, I can only assume his stage name is going to be David Attenbro. I can't imagine what else it would be. On the other hand, truth is clearly a lot stranger than fiction...

The broadcaster, who has brought the natural world into millions of homes, is seeking a DJ to remix a field recording he made in Bali 70 years ago. He's asking them to turn the three-minute recording of sacred gamelan music into a club-worthy Ibiza anthem.

Sir David first recorded the melodies while searching for a Komodo dragon in his 1954 BBC TV series, Zoo Quest. "The villagers play this concerted music with extraordinary precision and real zest," he recalled.
"So it is haunting music that you hear every night - or you did in those days, in the villages of Bali." He now hopes that, by fusing the original recording with modern production, the indigenous music of Indonesia can be introduced to a new generation.

The naturalist often took a portable tape recorder on his travels to capture local sounds and music, but the majority of his recordings went unused, and lay dormant in the BBC Archive until he mentioned them in passing to Radio 4 producer Julian May. May tracked the recordings down and helped compile an album of Sir David's discoveries - titled Sir David Attenborough: My Field Recordings From Across The Planet.

There's also an Attenborough-themed rave night - David Attenborough Jungle Boogie - in which DJs throw down excerpts of Planet Earth II and Blue Planet II over club beats, while fans wear cut-out masks of the wildlife expert's head.

Ooo... kay.... anyway, the embedded music clip doesn't work for me. I'm guessing it's supposed to be this clip ? But if only Christopher Lee was still with us, they could have teamed up...

David Attenborough WLTM trance producer

At the age of 93, Sir David Attenborough is taking a belated detour into dance music. The broadcaster, who has brought the natural world into millions of homes, is seeking a DJ to remix a field recording he made in Bali 70 years ago.

Wednesday, 8 May 2019

Lord Shang Unleashed


Last time I gave some selected highlights from the Book of Lord Shang, picking out the bits I think no reasonable person could possibly disagree with. I also said that he was a massive dick. So how could someone who advocated for fairness, equality, a respect for facts, honesty, leadership by example and an end to corruption, possibly be an evil despot that you wouldn't shed any tears for if they got crushed by a falling house ? Well, I shall tell you.


Why Lord Shang should be in pantomime

The law as a pure deterrent

Unfortunately, the single quote about everyone living together despite their differences is a rare exception from the general flow of Lord Shang's Big Book Of Being A Dick. He utterly ignored the idea that people could learn from their mistakes. His approach to legislation was much simpler than Plato's reform-based model : the goal was to create order almost exclusively by scaring the shit out of people, not by making people nicer but by rendering them incapable of acting against the law. He didn't care what people thought as long as they were obedient; order was the singular goal - anything which contributed to that was good, and anything which detracted from it was bad.

Of course, there are different sorts of pantomime villains. Lord Shang was (probably) not the kind who would go around strangling puppies or gobbling down a bowl of kittens because he enjoyed it. Actually, he'd have been completely satisfied if he never had to kill anyone at all :
He who attains supremacy succeeds in regulating those things which are most essential for the people, and therefore, even without the need of rewards and gifts, the people will love their ruler and follow their avocations; without the need of punishments, the people will do their duty to the death.
He often says that he wants to "abolish punishments by means of punishments" :
If one understands rewards, there should be no expense; if one understands punishments, there should be no death penalty; if one understands education, there should be no changes. 
The climax of the understanding of punishments is to bring about a condition of having no punishments.
He doesn't mean that the law should not have the death penalty or other punishments. Rather, he means that if the deterrent is sufficient, no-one will dare to commit any crimes so the punishments will never actually be used. To that end, the punishments he proposed were extreme. Like, way worse than merely killing all the criminals. For example in the military :
In battle five men are organised into a squad; if one of them is killed, the other four are beheaded. 
If in a battle, if it comes so far that the general is killed, his 4,000 swordsmen are beheaded. 
For every one man that cannot fight to the death, ten are torn to pieces by chariots.
The idea being to create a military structure so terrifying that no enemy the soldiers could face would ever be as intimidating as their own leaders : even in the face of overwhelming odds, they'd have more chance of success in fighting to the death than daring to return unsuccessfully. This style of thinking wasn't limited to battle either.
If amongst the officials who have to maintain the law and to uphold and office, there are those who do not carry out the king's law, they are guilty of death and should not be pardoned, but their punishment should be extended to their family for three generations.
Bearing in mind that Lord Shang emphasised that punishments should be strictly applied, this is a man perfectly comfortable with executing entirely innocent people for the sake of creating a deterrent. He might not especially want to do it, he might have some greater purpose in mind, but that makes it even worse. This is someone willing to slaughter his own soldiers by the thousand and exterminate whole families for the sake of "order", whatever "order" is supposed to mean in a system where the government massacres it own people. Lord Shang appears to believe that if education is possible at all, it's basically an irrelevant distraction.


A government of the people, by the people, and for the people : the perverse version

Given that Lord Shang actively encourages the idea of a brutally oppressive government that should crush dissent and control absolutely everything, how could anyone possibly say this is a government of the people ? Well, that depends on what you think of people. Lord Shang's estimation of them was... not good.

Plato and other Western philosophers thought that rule should be given to the elite intelligentsia, that education should be used to discover and mould those with the capability of ruling well. Herodotus thought that the sense of ownership bestowed by democracy made both the citizens and the state stronger together. Lord Shang, on the other hand, thought that all people were total dickheads and only law backed by force could keep them in check. Those in charge were no exception, so they had to rule by fear and force.
A weak people means a strong state, and a strong state means a weak people. Therefore, a country which has the right way is concerned with weakening the people. Being weak, they are law-abiding. 
If the government takes such measures as the people hate, the people are made weak; and if it takes such measures as the people like, they are made strong. By strengthening the people one becomes doubly weak and perishes; by weakening the people ones becomes doubly strong and attains supremacy. 
If the people live in humiliation, they value rank; if they are weak, they honour office; and if they are poor, they prize rewards.
People, to Lord Shang, are merely pawns to be controlled and intimidated by force. In fact the state must place a heavy burden on its subjects not so much because it needs their resources, but simply as a means to controlling them.
If the state makes few demands from the people, then the people will make many evasions from those demands. Therefore, a sage's way of administering a country is to prohibit much, in order to limit the people's capacity, and to rely on force in order to render trickeries powerless.
Or in other words, give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile.
That through which the country is important and that through which the ruler is honoured is force.
There is absolutely no point in the ruler seeking the affection of his people. Unlike Machiavelli, he openly prefers the ruler to be both feared and hated - if you hit people hard enough, he thinks, they won't fight back.


Statism

Lord Shang believed in absolute state control over as many aspects as its citizens lives as possible, that they should view the state as the only legitimate authority in all things.
If the profit leaks out through only one outlet [i.e. the government], the state will have many products, but if it leaks out through ten outlets, the state will have few products. Orderly government brings strength, but disorder brings weakness.
The people, seeing that the highest benefit comes only through one opening, will strive for concentration, and will not be negligent in their occupation.
So much for the free market. But the role of the government is not, as in other ideologies, to nurture and support the people, but the opposite - it's designed to brutally crush and control them. You can't very well do that if they're off doing they're own thing, making their own money and suchlike. Hence although he believed in absolute state control, he also believed in small government :
If the law is crooked, order turns into disorder; if reliance is placed on virtue, there is much talking; if government measures are numerous, the state is in disorder; and if there is much talking, the army is weak. But if the law is clear, if government measures are limited, then the country enjoys orderly administration; if reliance is placed on force, talking ceases and the army is strong.
But then there was nothing much to regulate. You don't need a huge organisation to administer your subjects if all they do is farm and fight. All you need to do is keep 'em scared and stupid. The government must be small but absolutely ruthless.


Keep 'em stupid

Such a degree of control means eliminating as many distractions as possible. You can't completely avoid the need for traders and craftsmen, but you can make their lives difficult. And even for the ordinary people, if you want them to dedicate their lives to fighting and farming, the last thing you want them doing is getting clever ideas. The basic principle is easy :
When people are stupid, they are easy to govern.
Bearing in mind that they will also be powerless and intimidated.
If the people do not prize learning, they will be stupid, and being stupid, they will have no interest in outside things... the country will exert itself in agriculture and will be peaceful and free from peril.
It's quite interesting to see peace occasionally depicted as desirable when he so often advocates for war. Was the ultimate objective of war also to abolish war, as in the case of rewards and punishments ? It's unclear. In any case, it wasn't just the ordinary people who needed to be kept stupid : even officials should avoid much learning. For funzies, let's give him the benefit of the doubt. Now, in the most charitable interpretation, it might be that intelligent people aren't so much undesirable as they are unnecessary :
The way to administer a country well, is for the law for the officials to be clear; therefore one does not rely on intelligent and thoughtful men.
Not relying on intelligence is quite different from destroying it, but even this is quite clearly leaning heavily towards tyranny by law. If there are no wise people around, there's no-one capable of changing the law, so the law itself becomes despotic :
Should anyone dare to tamper with the text of the law, to erase or add one single character, or more, he shall be condemned to death without pardon.
And the overall context makes it clear that actually reducing intelligence is somehow a good thing and should be encouraged. After all, learning leads to discussions which lead to confusion, change, and disorder, and we can't very well have any of that, thankyouverymuch.
If the ministers of state and the great officers are not allowed to occupy themselves with extensive learning, brilliant discussions and idle living, and if they are not allowed to reside, or to travel about, in the various districts, then the farmers will have no opportunity to hear of changes or see different places. This being so, clever farmers will have no opportunities to discard old ways, and stupid farmers will not become clever, nor will they be fond of study... they will apply themselves energetically to agriculture.
While Plato pointed out at length that it was more important to be correct than convincing, he didn't think that being a skilled rhetorician was in itself a bad thing. Lord Shang disagreed. Even the power of persuasion was something to be avoided : why even try to win over the people ? They're all just arseholes, so crush them.
Both stupid and wise alike try to acquire that power of eloquence, and if scholars study with those eloquent speakers, then people will lose touch with reality and will recite empty phrases... their strength will decrease and wrongdoing will increase. Therefore an intelligent ruler... should conquer and destroy cabals, control and abolish eloquence, and relying on the law, the country will enjoy order.
So it seems pretty clear that Lord Shang proposes a deliberate policy of keeping people stupid in order to keep them pliant and obedient. It's not merely that the law should be so perfect that there's no need for intelligent citizens, it's that intelligent citizens actively contribute to disorder. Whereas Plato had the law acting for the common good, Lord Shang twisted it into an absolute tyranny of unalterable diktat.
By talking, their persons are cultivated, but their success is small. So scholars, full of empty talks about the Odes and the Book of History, are held in high esteem, so that people become restless and think lightly of their prince. What are called depraved doctrines ? They are when sophistry and knowledge are valued, when itinerant politicians receive office, and when scholarship and private reputations are in evidence.
Which therefore means that when he says...
The system of good government is to neglect the virtuous and to abolish the wise.
... we should take him at his word. Total nutcase.


Who gets to be king ?

Lord Shang's answer to who should rule is arguably where he comes closest to being a pantomime villain. If you want a government that rules by force, intimidation and fear... well, it takes a certain kind of person to do that :
Loving one's relatives means making selfishness one's guiding principle, but the idea of equity and justice is to prevent selfishness from holding the field.  
If virtuous people are employed, then people will love their own relatives, but if wicked officials are employed, the people will love the statutes.
I suppose loving one's relatives can lead to favouritism, but instead of enacting legislation to prevent this from happening, Lord Shang prefers to abolish it. Virtuous people, who love their relatives, are weak and soft and cannot produce orderly government because the criminal element is absolutely inevitable, and nice people don't know how to inflict the necessary cruelties to keep it in check. Crime can be prevented but criminals cannot be reformed.
If a country practises virtue, criminals are many. If the virtuous are placed in positions of evidence, transgressions will remain hidden; but if the wicked are employed, crimes will be punished. 
A country where the virtuous govern the wicked will suffer from disorder, so that it will be dismembered; but a country where the wicked govern the virtuous will be orderly, so that it will become strong.
He doesn't specify a definition of "wicked" and "virtuous", but from the context it would seem the meanings are the everyday ones : he really wants harsh oppressors to beat people into stupidity and scare them into submission. Not only does that mean incredibly extreme punishments, as we've seen, but it also means heavy punishments for minor crimes. Again, if Lord Shang had a single maxim, it would probably have been, "give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile".
If, in the application of punishments, serious offences are regarded as serious, and light offences as light, light offences will not cease, and in consequence there will be no means of stopping the serious ones. If light offences are regarded as serious, punishments will be abolished [rendered unnecessary], affairs will succeed and the country will be strong. 
Plato advocated the use of force but found it undesirable. Lord Shang, on the other hand, actually thought of force and violence as being a fundamentally good thing :
Punishment produces force, force produces strength, strength produces awe, awe produces kindness. Kindness has its origin in force.
If you govern by punishment, the people will fear. Being fearful, they will not commit villainies; there being no villainies, people will be happy in what they enjoy.
Riiiight. The guy clearly wasn't a total idiot, but he was unarguably a villain, possibly prone to maniacal cackling. He did say something more interesting regarding force though :
When people are stupid, they think force easy, but cleverness difficult; but if the world is clever, then it thinks knowledge easy, but force difficult.
And that bit is certainly true. Everyone tends to estimate everyone else's attributes very badly; we think policies cannot be enacted because everyone else will not understand them, or we arbitrarily excuse avoiding the implementation of sensible laws when we think people will not accept them - but with scant justification as to why they won't accept some laws but are fine with others. Law should have a force to it and override those who disagree with it. The whole edifice of science is built on the premise that we can establish knowledge with a degree of confidence high enough to take action. The legislative system of Western government is built on a similar premise, e.g. that just because a murderer wants to kill people, the rest of us don't have to suffer their insanities. Yet sometimes we often seem paralysed with fear that people will rise up in open rebellion if we infringe their freedoms in any sort of trivial way. We lack a unifying principle with which we can justify restricting freedoms, and similarly we lack a principle by which we can decide when laws will be generally accepted or not.

Okay, rant over. The only thing left is what life would have been like for Shang's everyday farmer-soldiers. As you can probably guess, the answer is, "not nice".


Pity the fools

Words like "kindness" and "happiness" are very rare in Lord Shang, and tend to be peculiar outliers in a work seemingly dedicated to deliberately making everyone's life a complete misery.

Lord Shang's goal was to create a state capable of defeating its rivals and nothing else. This meant that it had to dedicate itself only to farming and war. All activities were to be permitted only insofar as they helped further those two aims. He didn't give a flying rat's arse if his state was a nice place to live or not. So music, fine clothing, servants, and hotels would all have been completely banned, along with high taxes on "luxuries" like wine and meat.

Not that there would have been any need for hotels, mind you, because although the empire was to be pro-immigration (more people = more soldiers), it was to be dead against the idea that people could just move around however they liked. Instead, they had to be made to feel attached to their homes, so that they'd fight better when defending them.
If people are not allowed to change abode unauthorisedly, then stupid and irregular farmers will have no means of subsistence and will certainly turn to agriculture. If the minds of stupid people, full of turbulent desires, have been concentrated, then it is certain farmers will be quiet... being single minded, opportunities of deceit will be few, and they will attach importance to their homes.
We've already seen how he preferred state control over the free market because improving citizen's lives was something to be actively avoided. And God forbid anyone should get ideas above their station :
If the people strive for gain, then they lose the rules of polite behaviour; if they strive for fame, then they lose the eternal principles of human nature.
Which is not entirely wrong, but in the context of a such a brutal, absolutist system is just another tool of the oppressor. That people could have useful individual skills that could, with proper regulation, be used for the advantage of the state and the common good, is something he would probably have spat on in disgust. This leads to another strong contender for, "most pantomime villain moment" :
If, in a country, there are the following ten things : odes and history, rites and music, virtue and the cultivation thereof, benevolence and integrity, sophistry and intelligence, then the ruler has no-one whom we can employ for defence and warfare. If a country is governed by means of these ten things, it will be dismembered as soon as an enemy approaches, and even if no enemy approaches it will be poor.
An alternative list elsewhere in the text includes history, moral culture, filial piety, and brotherly duty. Elsewhere certain traits are described as "parasites" :
If these six parasites of care for old age, living on others, beauty, love, ambition and virtuous conduct, find an attachment, there will be dismemberment.... [and elsewhere] rites and music, odes and history, moral culture and virtue, filial piety and brotherly love, sincerity and faith, chastity and integrity, benevolence and righteousness, criticism of the army and being ashamed of fighting.
Basic human decency ? Nope nope nope.
If the able-bodied men and women intermingle with the army of the old and feeble, then the old will arouse the compassion of the able-bodied, and the feeble the pity of the strong. Compassion and pity in the heart cause brave people to be more anxious and fearful people not to fight.
Which is all exemplified in a particularly nasty passage :
Sophistry and cleverness are an aid to lawlessness; rites and music are symptoms of dissipations and license, kindness and benevolence are the foster-mother of transgression; employment and promotions are opportunities for the rapacity of the wicked. If lawlessness is aided, it becomes current; if there are symptoms of dissipation and license, they will become practise; if there is a foster-mother for transgressions, they will arise; if there are opportunities for transgressions, they will never cease. If these eight things comes together, the people will be stronger than the government; but if these eight things are non-existent in a state, the government will be stronger than the people. If the people are stronger than the government, the state is weak; if the government is stronger than the people, the army is strong.
Thanks Lord Shang. Thanks so much.


Conclusions

The main one is obvious, but deserves to be stated repeatedly :
  • Lord Shang was a massive dick who would not seem out of place if cast as a pantomime or Bond villain.
Which means his book is really fun to read because it's just so darn strange. His world view is similar enough to modern attitudes that his ideas can be easily grasped (unlike, say, the Upanishads) but alien enough to make them interesting. He clearly wasn't stupid, but at the same time, he was clearly very stupid indeed. I could do a lengthy deconstruction of what I mean by that, but I won't.

Lord Shang deserves to be more widely read. One should always consider opposing viewpoints and give them a fair hearing, if for no other reason than to be prepared to deal with such views if they're encountered in anger. As a guide to what not to do, this is well worth a read, and perhaps useful to spot when modern politicians are acting in bad faith. And let's not forget that he says some things which are absolutely correct.

It's also worth bearing in mind that this brutal, ruthless system is nowhere near the worst that humans have devised. Lord Shang may not have had a problem with massacring his own citizens and soldiers, but at least he didn't have their hearts ripped out to feed the gods. He may have deliberately tried to reduce the state to farming and fighting, but at least he thought farming was important (unlike certain modern rogue states). He was (probably) not the sort of chap who would relax in the evenings by punching old ladies or raping pigeons or anything, nor did he have anywhere near Machiavelli's level of deviousness. He was, in the end, a very honest villain who deserved to have a stunningly successful career acting in pantomimes to scare little children.

Tuesday, 7 May 2019

Meet Lord Shang, the pantomime villain of moral philosophy

Existential Comics has a nice exploration of different perspectives on charity, culminating with Ayn Rand's somewhat... special opinions. Pretty awful stuff, to be sure, but if there was a philosopher's contest for Most Likely To Be Booed In a Pantomime, it would hardly be a one-horse race. I'm not qualified to make a list of candidates, though do by all all means offer suggestions.

But I feel pretty confident in declaring that any such list has to include Lord Shang, Chinese politician of the 4th century B.C. I may have made a mistake in reading the Book of Lord Shang before reading Machiavelli's more famous The Prince, but put it this way : had they ever met, Lord Shang would have laughed in Machiavelli's big effeminate liberal girly face.

The thing to realise about extreme societies is that they usually do have some benefits to someone. If they didn't, they'd never get started. And so it is with Lord Shang. He actually had a number of principles that most modern people, except for the most extreme conservatives and liberals, would agree with enthusiastically. Before we look at what made him a heartless evil despot, let's see why he was a a nice guy who just wanted everyone to get along.


Lord Shang's liberal values : the lighter side of Herod

Prudence before precedent

While Lord Shang offers somewhat contradictory advice on this point, the basic gist of how a ruler should make decisions is one of practical necessity. Tradition should play little or no role in deciding which laws are suitable. Who could argue with the need to reform outdated laws ? No-one.
There is more than one way to govern the world and there is no necessity to imitate antiquity in order to take appropriate measures for the sate. Those who act counter to antiquity do not necessarily deserve blame, nor those who follow establish rites merit much praise.
Moreover, a ruler should in all things account not for their beliefs but for measurements. Though Lord Shang has some seriously off-the-wall crazy ideas of government, at least he wanted to respect the facts :
If the ruler controls the handle of fame and profit, so as to be able to acquire success and fame, it is due to the statistical method... Statistics is the true method of ministers and rulers and the essential of a state. For never yet has it happened but that a state of a thousand chariots that neglected statistics has come into a perilous position, and ministers and rulers that neglected method have experienced disorder.
More on the need to control fame and profit later. For now, in like vein, the social policies Shang describes are invariably meritocratic. All reward should be based on proven ability, as should all punishments be based on crimes and nothing else. Class and nobility would be effectively abolished.
The superior man... makes his appointments taking people's exertions into account and according to their merit, so that the balance between high and low is even. 
The way in which an intelligent ruler uses his ministers is by always giving them employment for merits which they have acquired, and by always fully recognising their exertions by rewards.
Now, a meritocratic system is far from perfect - there are a lot of subtitles to it. But at the basic level, it's undeniably better for rewards to be based on proven ability rather than creed or class. Taken only slightly further, such a philosophy demands something else it's hard to argue with :


Equality before the law

If society is to be meritocratic, it follows that even the highest officials should be subject to the law - the punishment should fit the crime, not the criminal. That's exactly what Lord Shang proposed.
If prince and ministers neglect the law and act according to their own self-interest, disorder is the inevitable result. 
Merit acquired in the past should not cause a decrease in the punishment for demerit later; nor should good behaviour in the past cause any derogation of the law for wrong done later. If loyal ministers and filial sons do wrong, they should be judged according to the full measure of their guilt.
Both the ministers and even the ruler himself must be subject to the law, and the law must actually be applied, not simply stated.
Only an intelligent ruler will not harm the law for the sake of self-interest. For if he speaks many liberal words, but cuts down his rewards, then his subjects will not be of service; and if he issues one severe order after another, but does not apply the penalties, people will despise [or rather they will not fear] the death-penalty. 
If a state is in disorder, it is not because the law is disorderly, but because its law is not applied.
It's pretty hard to object to the principle that no-one gets special treatment, especially the rulers (though there are many countries which make limited exceptions for this). A small caveat is that some people find the same punishments easier to bear than others, but the purpose of the text isn't to examine such nuances. The point is that there can't be one law for one group and another for another, nor can exemptions be made on the basis of favouritism. Again, there are many subtitles to this - absolute law is no better than tyranny - but the basic principle is clearly sound.


Against corruption

If everyone is equal before the law, it follows that corrupt officials need to be dealt with harshly - otherwise the whole common system is threatened. Well, Lord Shang was certainly no fan of bribery :
If it is not permitted to petition officials on behalf of wrongdoers, nor to provide them with food, then criminal people will have no patrons.
Selling power to inferiors is not proper for a loyal minister, but those who thus act do so for the sake of insignificant presents.
Likewise the ruler must be honest, lead by example, and cannot be exempt from the laws.
If the ruler has system, he will be a man of his word, and being a man of his word, the officials will not dare to commit any depravity.
An intelligent ruler is cautious with regard to laws and regulations; he does not hearken to words which are not in accordance with the law; he does not exalt actions which are not in accordance with the law; he does not perform deeds which are not in accordance with the law. 
If people are indeed sheep-like and easily led, the flip side of this is that honest rulers beget honest citizens : they can be led in the right directions as well as the wrong ones :
I have heard that the gate through which the people are guided depends on where their superiors lead. For people's attitude towards profit is just like the tendency of water to flow downwards, without preference for any of the four sides. The people are only interested in obtaining profit, and what they will do depends on what their superiors encourage.
Lord Shang was clearly of the opinion that people themselves don't matter as individuals, it's all about creating an orderly system. What's interesting about this is that this even applies to the ruler, who need not be anything special, and certainly doesn't need any kind of divine authority : it's strict obedience to the law that's important, not who's in charge.
Generally a ruler of men does not, in virtuous conduct, exceed other men, nor does he do so in knowledge, nor does he surpass others in courage or strength, yet the people, though they may have sages and wise men, they dare not plot against him; though they may have courage, dare not kill him; though they are numerous, they dare not over-rule their lord. The reason is that there is law....  If there is order, it is the families who make judgements; if there is disorder, it is the prince who makes judgements.
Although it's important that the ruler sets a good example, this isn't because he has to be a man of exceptionally good character. Instead, the system works provided that everyone, without exception, obeys the law and is punished for transgressions. The prince runs the country, but so as long as he obeys the laws, he doesn't matter very much. The system runs itself; the prince doesn't have to actually do anything but can leave everything to his subordinates.


Laws must be clear, uniform, and enforced

As is now obvious, Lord Shang as pretty damn emphatic about the importance of the laws. As we'll see next time, the proposed system of Legalism was to be ludicrously strict (hence his views on respecting the facts are somewhat contradictory). Nevertheless, some of what he says regarding the laws makes good sense :
Generally speaking, in administering a country, the trouble is when the people are scattered and when it is impossible to consolidate them. This is why a sage tries to bring about uniformity and consolidation. An ordinary prince cultivates the system of rewards and penalties in order to support his teaching of uniformity of purpose, and in this way his teaching has permanency and his administration is successfully established.
Again saying that laws must be the same everywhere, aiming at a homogeneous society. At least as far as everyone should be subject to the same laws, this makes sense. It necessarily follows that if you want everyone to obey the laws, they must know what they are. So first the laws themselves have to be clear, otherwise there's a risk of misinterpretation :
If there is a clear law, people will agree with one another, if there is an obscure law, people will differ from one another. If the former case there is order, the latter, disorder. 
When one has to observe ten rules, there is confusion : when one has only one to observe, there is order.
Now of course, in practise the law must be subject to interpretation and re-evaluation, otherwise laws are not in accordance with the necessities of the age, which Lord Shang himself would not approve of. Nevertheless, it's at least a laudable goal that the law should explain itself as much as possible, so as it can be properly understood and blatant misinterpretations are not possible. This is also necessary if everyone is to learn the laws :
There shall be no-one among the government officials and people of the empire who does not know the law, and as the officials are clearly aware that the people know the laws and mandates, they dare not treat people contrary to the law, nor dare the people transgress the law, as they would come into conflict with the law officers. All this originates from the fact that the law is clear, easy to know, and strictly applied. 
One should not make laws so that only the intelligent can understand them, for the people are not all intelligent. Therefore did the sages, in creating laws, make them clear and easy to understand, and the terminology correct, so that stupid and wise without exception could understand them.
Which is again very reasonable. Though of course in practise there may well be a need for complex laws, there's nothing wrong with striving for simplicity. And of course laws must actually be applied, otherwise no-one takes the penalties and rewards seriously. All this will create a harmonious, orderly society. While Lord Shang took the necessity of order wwwaaaaaaaayyy too far, he did offer an interesting insight into the purpose of laws :
If people control each other by law and recommend each other by following systematic rules, they they cannot benefit each other with praise nor harm each other with slander. They will become used to loving each other without flattery, and to hating each other without injuring each other... both love and hatred will be pure, which is the highest form of order.
So the law creates harmony not by crushing dissent, but by allowing everyone to live with their mutual disagreements. That echoes some very modern ideas of democratic societies (the weird comment about pure hatred notwithstanding).


That all sees okay so far... doesn't it ?

To summarise, Lord Shang appears to be proposing a firmly meritocratic system where social standing is no defence against criminal charges, where bribery is eliminated, facts are respected, the laws are simple and clear, the rulers honest and lead by example, and all the subjects of the empire live harmoniously by respecting the law. Sounds great ! There seem to be a number even of modern liberal democracies that don't respect these principles, that put politics before practise - if not all the time, then at least too often.

That's all fine as far as it goes. The thing is, and I can't stress this enough, Lord Shang was a massive dick. We'll see why in part two.

Friday, 3 May 2019

I'm an extremist, get me out of here

If people were basically rational, we could change their minds by giving well-cited counter-evidence to their beliefs. The problem is that large numbers of people aren't basically rational, so this approach can, in some circumstances (discussed at length here) backfire. While you probably do need to make the rational counter-arguments somewhere, to stop more rational people being persuaded, most people who actually join violent hate groups don't do so because of the strength of the evidence.

Step 0 of getting them out is to acknowledge that they're being irrational. Don't try and persuade them (primarily) with the evidence, because that's not the main reason they do what they do. Instead, persuade them. Figure out the real reasons they joined up - even if they're irrational and make no sense - and deal with them on their own terms.
It may seem surprising, but Exit does not begin the rehabilitation process by targeting the ideology. Michael Kimmel argues that contrary to his initial presumptions, ideology is not an important factor for many of the young people who join extremist far-right organisations. He struggled to get participants to be able to even explain the ideology of the organisations they were part of, with participants instead talking about the importance of being “part of something, part of a group” 
Yes, it may seem absolutely absurd that people want to join a group dedicated to hurting other people because it gives them a sense of belonging - but that's the point. No-one joins a group advocating mindless violence because they put their mind to it.
Kimmel acknowledges that there are critics of this approach, with many arguing that focusing on non-ideological reasons for people to get engaged lets people off the hook for past or even current extremist views and behaviour. But if our goal is to get people out of violent organisations, he argues, we must be practical in our approach, engaging with a member’s own experiences in order to further motivation to get them out.  
The word "appeasement" comes to mind. However, "being nice to Nazis" is not at all the same as "giving Nazis whatever they want". Instead, figure out what it is that they actually need and give them that. As I've said before many times, that's what the job of a good politician should be - not just to listen to people's surface demands, but also to figure out the deeper causes. Sometimes, in extreme cases, what people need is punishment in order to rehabilitate them. But often, however vile the things people are advocating, they won't be reached by telling them how vile they are. As much as possible, attack the ideas - never give them what they think they want - not the people themselves.
In his book Racist and Right-Wing Violence in Scandinavia, Tore Bjørgo argues that there are a range of "push" and "pull" factors that can lead to people exiting extremist organisations. Push factors often include a loss of faith in the organisation’s ideology, disillusionment with the organisation’s strategy, leadership, membership or action or simply burnout, while pull factors can include intimate relationships, employment, or imprisonment.  
Örell, referring to his own experiences, describes... an “unexpected act of kindness”. These are acts of kindness from people who people previously saw as the enemy, acts which in turn can help people find motivation to rethink their beliefs and actions.
Oliver Roy argues that modern jihadists, particularly those who have engaged in terror attacks in Europe, are initially less motivated by the ideology of radical Islam than by a sense of nihilism: a malaise formed from social isolation, fantasy and rebellion. Young European Muslims who are drawn to IS, he argues, are attracted to the organisation’s violent means more so than dreams of a caliphate. When dealing with recent terrorist attacks we are not therefore facing a radicalisation of Islam, but instead the Islamisation of radicalism.
Another key theme of the article is that you have to offer people a way out. While the liberal left (quite rightly) seems to have no problem welcoming news reports of the good deeds of anonymous reformed murderers and other criminals, things turned distinctly different in the recent Liam Neeson case. I don't normally comment on individual celebrity exploits, but this one exemplified a major problem.

To my mind, someone saying they contemplated doing a horrible thing, realised it was an awful idea and subsequently repented, is someone who deserves praise, not shame. As I've said elsewhere, I suspect that one contributing factor to the backfire effect is that adherents of an ideology believe they will continue to be shunned no matter what, that attacks on their twisted ideals are actually attacks on them. Continuing to attack someone after they've repented is the surest way to seal off any escape route. Do you actually want to change their mind, or did you just want to hurt them ? Why would anyone want to join a group that very apparently wants to do them harm ?

Had Neeson committed an actual crime, he would have been punished. If he had subsequently paid his debt to society and repented his actions, he should have been brought back into the fold. But he never did that, he just admitted to having extremely disturbing thoughts. He didn't promote racial violence, he pointed out his own inner darkness for what it was. So he was reprimanded for having thoughts he acknowledged were wrong and had no control over. That is stupid. Shaming people after they've repented - especially if they never actually did anything - is just utterly absurd.

Acknowledging one's own darker impulses, but that they can ultimately be overcome, is in my view a far better approach than pretending that all extremists are just inherently bad people who cannot be redeemed. If you truly believe that no-one is born racist, then you should also admit that racists can - albeit with difficulty - be un-made. Having a permanent, intractable enemy may have the usual appeal of dealing with something boldly and without compromise, but it is not, surely, the point. That is not to say that there are not cases where very drastic actions need to be taken, but actively seeking to maintain enemies by refusing to acknowledge repentance is absolutely pointless.

How do you prevent extremism?

Over the past few years there have been increasing fears about the growth of far right, neo-Nazi and fascist organisations. Events such as those in Charlottesville in the United States 2017, in Chemnitz in Germany in 2018 and the recent terrorist attack in Christchurch, New Zealand, have led many to ask the question: what can we do to stop the spread of these extremist ideologies?

Thursday, 2 May 2019

Fighting hindsight bias

I'm not sure if this is quite the same thing, but whenever a political issue is in the air, people make all kinds of predictions that essentially cover all of parameter space. E.g. if decision X happens, people will respond with outcome Y or Z or whatever. But it's only after the decision is actually taken that the response is really known. Suddenly it feels genuinely obvious that people respond as they do, even if their response was hardly predicted by anyone. Apparently it's either incredibly difficult to wargame responses even when the prospect of a decision is known, or maybe people are just fundamentally unpredictable.

I think it would be rather fun to keep track of predictions and it should probably be standard practise for any newspaper. To that end, while I was compiling this blog I labelled posts with a "predictions" category if I made (or the article therein contained) a specific, testable prediction. You can already examine these here, but at some point I'll post a review of them.
The saying goes that hindsight is 20:20, but Boyd says it’s worse than that. “It makes people think they can look back at past events and interpret something; it makes them think they have new ability to predict.” He says that in order to correct for hindsight bias, you have to realise you don’t possess a crystal ball.
Thaler says a simple fix could be to write things down; to make a record of how a decision was made at the time so that companies can learn lessons after the event. “Any company that can learn to distinguish between bad decisions and bad outcomes has a leg up,” he says. “Memorialise the fact that the CEO and the other people that have approved this decision all have the same assumptions, that no competitor has a similar product in the pipeline, that we don't expect a major financial crisis.” 
American businessman Warren Buffet, Boyd says, has a formula he calls ‘value investing’. “He follows it, but he knows the odds of succeeding are what they are. He doesn’t always hit magic; he loses occasionally, but he doesn’t say the odds were against him those times. Successful people understand risk for what it is and don’t make revisions in hindsight. Go with the odds, not the gods.” 
Kathleen Vohs says there is one de-biasing tactic she favours known as the ‘consider the opposite strategy’. Before rendering a decision you should flip it and think: how could this not have gone the way you anticipated? “Once you have your little narrative in your mind, think: how could the outcome go in a different direction or not occur at all?” she says. “If you flip the script like that in a number of ways you can reduce hindsight bias.”
EDIT : adding this nice essay by George Orwell on much the same thing.

How hindsight bias skews your judgement

On 8 November 2016 - US election night - the betting odds of Donald Trump winning the presidency had narrowed to five to one. By the following morning, he'd managed to pull off a feat many thought impossible, but that didn't stop the I-told-you-sos - friends, family members and even online soothsayers - who claimed to have known all along that Trump would triumph despite such bad odds.

Wednesday, 1 May 2019

Food-based philosophy

I found an awesome little budget bookshop a few weeks ago, so naturally I picked up a a bunch of philosophy books. First on the reading list was one I'd never heard of : the Upanishads. Written between 900-600 B.C., but expressing ideas developed over millennia, this Vedic text has a fair claim on being the oldest work of philosophy in existence. Seems like a good place to start.

The Upanishads don't read much like later Western philosophy, where authors try and spell out their positions clearly and distinctly (to coin a phrase). Whereas Plato proceeds in a very systematic, methodical way, never advancing an argument by anything beyond the smallest increment (a method I call "tautological analysis" because successive statements are so similar to each other), arguments in the Upanishads are stated directly, fully-formed and (apparently) decisive. They are explicitly not an attempt at rational inquiry. They are more a blend of theology, philosophy, mysticism and spirituality. Oh, there's a rational aspect to them, but that's not really what they're for.

Despite this, they contain a few fair ideas which are strikingly similar to near-contemporary Greek philosophers and much later medieval thinkers. Reading the Upanishads is an interesting experience, but sometimes the mystical weirdness can be laid on a bit thick - there are large passages I make no claim to understand (not without good reason, as we'll see). So here I thought I'd try and cut through all that, and offer a few selections I thought made for an interesting illustration of how like and unlike the Upanishads are to more well-known (in the Western world) ideas.


Food, glorious food

Okay, the Upanishads don't develop an entirely food-based system of reasoning. But they are weirdly obsessed with it, to the point where if you ever met the authors you might want to keep your arms and legs to themselves. It's not that the authors advocate cannibalism, but it comes close enough, on occasion, that you feel the need to state "it's not that the authors advocate cannibalism." Take for instance this manic hymn :
I am food, I am food, I am food ! I am the eater of food, I am the eater of food, I am the eater of food ! Him who eats food, I eat as food.
By any modern standards the author of that little ditty was clearly a rabid lunatic who needs to be locked up fast (i.e. I have no idea what they're on about). Other parts feel like they were almost profound until some hungry nutcase got their hands on the text :
From food are produced all the creatures which dwell on Earth. They live on food, and in the end they return to food.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... if there's one message from the Upanishads (there isn't, but if there was it would be this) it's the essential oneness of all things. Food is no exception to that, but it's one the text dwells on quite a lot.
The earth when eaten becomes threefold; its grosses portion becomes faeces, its middle portion flesh, its subtlest portion mind.
Mind-food duality ? I dunno what Descartes would have to say about that because I've only just started reading the Meditations. Certainly the Upanishads have a lot more profound comments than "you are what you eat", even if sometimes they are deliberately inscrutable.


Knowledge

Before examining what the Upanishads have to say about mind itself, perhaps it's worth considering what they say about what we can know at all. Despite (or arguably because of) being full of mystical woo woo (I'd have used a less derogatory term, because I'm genuinely interested in it, but a) I couldn't think of one and b) "mystical woo woo" is slightly amusing), the Upanishads do contain many interesting and important insights. For example, they recognise that our perception does not directly reveal the true nature of external reality, but only our own internal sense of it. The mind is, in effect, a sensory organ :
As people say, "My mind was elsewhere, I did not see; my mind was elsewhere, I did not hear", it is clear that a man sees with his mind and hears with his mind. Even if a man is touched from behind, he knows it through mind. 
Thou couldst not see the true seer of sight, thou couldst not hear the true hearer of hearing, nor perceive the perceive of perception, nor know the knower of knowledge. This is thy self, who is within all. Everything else is suffering.
There are certainly plenty of Platonic overtones to all this : the idea that we cannot know the true "form" of anything. But these explicit statements about own knowledge only being of our own perceptions is not really very Platonic, with Plato explicitly denying that knowledge is perception (Descartes and Spinoza, on the other hand, were much more sympathetic).

So what exactly is knowledge ? Being a text seemingly designed for one's own reflection, rather than presenting much in the way of well-defined conclusions, it seems to me that the Upanishads don't offer any firm commitments. Sometimes they tend towards the view that perception of the external world is knowledge after all :
"What is the nature of knowledge ?""Your majesty, speech itself. For through speech, a friend is known to be a friend; what is sacrificed, what is poured out, what is to be eaten and drunk, this world and the other world, all creatures [are known]. By speech alone, your majesty, Brahman is known; speech indeed, O king, is the highest Brahman.""I shall give you a thousand cows with a bull as big as an elephant".
Pity the poor cows that have to suffer the amorous affections of such a monster ! And elsewhere :
The eye is truth, for the person dwelling in the eye proceeds to all things.
So we know things by sensing the world around us, even if our limited senses and internal perceptions don't give us the full picture of reality. The problem is that not only are our senses incomplete, but that they are also inaccurate :
Even in a mind which loves the truth, and has gone to rest in itself there arise, when it is deluded by the objects of sense, wrongful thoughts resulting from former acts.
How, then, can we say we truly know anything at all if we cannot entirely trust our senses ? The philosopher might answer that we cannot. The scientist might say that repeat testing is good enough to overcome any deficiencies. The Upanishads answer, if they have one at all, deflects the problem rather than addressing it. Unlike Plato, who tended towards the view that all human traits are just different types of knowledge, the Upanishads have a very different, sometimes very silly message :
Do not ask too much lest thy head should fall off.
Knowledge, they say, isn't everything. Not everything can be known or analysed. There is some much greater aspect of reality. In many ways the whole of the Upanishads feels like an attempt to express the literally inexpressible.
The devas love what is mysterious, and dislike what is evident. 
He, the Self, can only be described as "Not this, not this !". He is incomprehensible, for he cannot be comprehended; her is imperishable, for he cannot perish; he is unattached, for he does not attach himself; he does not suffer or feel, because he is unfettered. 
What is without thought, though placed in the centre of thought, what cannot be thought, the hidden, the highest - let a man merge his thought there : then will this living being be without attachment.
I love the notion of a thought you cannot think, of things you simply cannot comprehend. It flies in the face of the scientific effort to understand reality, yet, paradoxically, the idea that our brain tissue ought to be able to understand the Universe is clearly absolutely bloody bonkers. How can we possibly account for things we can't understand ? Why should there not be an aspect of reality that we are fundamentally incapable of understanding - not just through rational analysis, but even through the more mystical, emotional methods of religions and philosophies ?

I dunno. But I'll close this section with my favourite quote from the whole work :
All those who are devoted to what is not real knowledge enter into darkness: those who delight only in knowledge enter, as it were, into greater darkness.

Psychology

Despite such explicit acknowledgement that we can't know everything, the Upanishads don't shy away from making blunt conclusions. There are some curiously modern aspects to many of these, for example a section in the Chandogya Upanishad has something similar to the hierarchy of needs (albeit blending physical and spiritual requirements). It runs thus :

Name  <  Speech  <  Mind  <  Will < Awareness  < Contemplation  <  Understanding  < Power  < Food  <  Water  <  Fire  <  Space  <  Memory  <  Hope  <  Spirit.

Which is clearly pretty extensive so I'll skip over the details. Other statements are far clearer. They even reference the so-called Dunning-Kruger effect (which Plato also understood very well) on more than one occasion :
Fools dwelling in darkness, wise in their own conceit, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the blind. The deluded living in ignorance in many diverse ways, consider themselves as having obtained everything.
Knowledge might not be everything, but the Upanishads don't dismiss it either. In particular, again in similarity to Greek thinking, self-knowledge is essential. They repeatedly use the metaphor of a chariot to describe how man experiences the world :
These perceptive organs are his reins; the active organs his horses, the body his chariot, the mind the charioteer, the whip the temperament... A wise man... turns he senses with the mind inward to enter the heart. Let the wise man successfully restrain his mind, that chariot yoked with vicious senses. 
He who controls both knowledge and ignorance rules over every cause, over all forms, and over all sources.
It might not have been intended, but I can't help feeling that last quote has some pretty direct political implications. Anyone trying to manipulate a society doesn't limit themselves to controlling what people know - they also try and control what people don't know. Which has, of course, both good and bad implications.

On an individual level, the Upanishads advocate self-knowledge as a means of self-control. As various Western philosophers would later suggest, man is free not when he is able to indulge his passions, but when he's able to control them :
Freedom from desires is, as it were, the highest prize to be taken from the choicest treasure. For a man full of desires, being possessed of will, deliberation, and I-consciousness, is a slave, but he who is the opposite, is free. Let a man stand free from will, deliberation and I-consciousness - this is the sign of liberty, this is the path that leads to Brahman, this is the opening of the door, and through it he will go to the other shore of darkness. 
The world of Brahman belongs to those who find it by means of discipline and self-control; for them there is freedom in all the worlds.
But self-knowledge, like any form of knowledge, is limited. The main topic of the Upanishads is the Brahman, the infinite One, the Ultimate Reality, God. Call it what you will. Comprehension of such a thing is impossible. Knowledge is, at most, only a tool to reaching enlightenment - and not the most important one at that.
Where the fire is rubbed, where the wind is checked, where the soma flows over, there the mind is born.The self cannot be gained by the Veda, nor by understanding, nor by much learning. He whom the self chooses, by him the self can be gained. To him the self reveals its own nature.

Consciousness

Again, despite reality being fundamentally indescribable and unknowable, the Upanishads do offer some suggestions as to its nature. Understanding consciousness and the soul is an important component of becoming something greater than oneself. For a start, at a very basic level, it's clear that consciousness is not a binary proposition. The Upanishads suggest there are four different levels :
The first is the state of waking. This knows only external objects. The second state is the state of dream. This knows only internal objects which are there in the mind.
So far, so rational. We know about external reality when we're awake, but only our internal reality in our dreams. We aren't dreaming about some other reality when we sleep, we're only exploring our own mind. But the third state is much more mystical :
When one if fast asleep, bereft of dreams and desires, the self is in the third state. As the darkness of night drives away the visible world, so does the dreamless sleep push aside the word of objects, external or internal. Experiences now collapse into one undifferentiated point of consciousness, restful and blissful. This is the knower and source of all, the inner controller. His is the beginning and the end of becoming.
Socrates famously declared that a a dreamless sleep is an experience to be welcomed, but neither he nor Plato made any claims that such deep sleep accessed some other realm. The "Self" of the Upanishads is, I suppose, the Platonic form of mind. Plato went to great lengths in the Republic to describe how our senses serve to confuse us (though elsewhere he contradicted this), but the Upanishad conclusion on the importance of pure thought is altogether more mysterious.
Now about the self in the fourth state. He is not directed at all, and so he knows not, and is himself unknowable. He is unseen, unusable, ungraspable. He is without signs, without indications, unthinkable and indescribable. His only proof is his presence : peaceful, benign, pure oneness. This is the supreme self.
Throughout the work there is a constant reminder of Brahman, a concept "inconceivably subtler than subtle", the infinite oneness, as the ultimate goal. How can one know the unknowable, even to the extent of knowing it even exists ? To the devotee, such a question makes no sense. You cannot think unthinkable thoughts. This fourth state of consciousness (of perhaps lack thereof) should also be set alongside some distinctly panpsychic tendencies* :

* Look, if you don't get anything else from this post, you've got to admit that "panpsychic tendencies" is a cool band name.
And what comes from the heart and the mind, namely, perception, sentience, understanding, knowledge, wisdom, inspiration, thinking, resolution, readiness to suffer, memory, conceiving, willing, breathing, loving, desiring ? All these are various names only of consciousness... whatsoever breathes and moves, and whatsoever is unmoving - all that is led by consciousness.... the world is led by consciousness. Consciousness is its cause.
Understanding (for want of a better word !) all this and achieving enlightenment carries profound consequences. As Plato would have approved, such a journey of self-discovery is vital for the sake of the immortal soul :
From meditating on him [the supreme self], from joining him, from becoming one with him there is cessation of all illusion in the end. When that one is known, all fetters fall off, sufferings are destroyed, and birth and death cease. 
This body indeed withers and dies when the living self has left it; the living self dies not.  
That which is beyond this world is without form and without suffering. They who know it, become immortal, but others suffer pain indeed.
Hail to you, that you may cross beyond the sea of darkness !

God

Or rather, Brahman. Or perhaps not, because the concept of Brahman is a tricky one. It hasn't gone unnoticed by scholars that Spinoza's (more on him in a future post) idea of the Ultimate Reality is almost plargarisingly close to that of the Upanishads :
He is beyond all the forms of the world and of time, he is the other, from whom the world moves around. There is no effect and no cause known of him... his power is revealed as manifold, as inherent, acting as force and knowledge.
While Spinoza takes this considerable further, rendering God into useless omnipotence, the Upanishad view of Brahman as the infinite, the union of all things, is distinctly similar. And just as Spinoza's view of God was that he was far beyond such petty human notions as good and evil, so too do the Upanishads have a note of caution in their teachings. Paradoxically, achieving enlightenment requires a desire to do good, but ultimately results in moving far beyond it.
Being freed from good and freed from bad, he, the knower of Brahman, moves towards Brahman.
This has disturbing consequences :
By no need of his is his life harmed, not by the killing of his mother, not by the killing of his father, not by theft, not by destroying a foetus. If he even commits sin, brilliance does not desert his face.
Yet Spinoza doesn't seem to have murdered babies and the Upanishads clearly don't endorse the prospect. They define a triad of instruction of self-control, giving, and mercy - hardly the behaviour of a reckless brute. Somehow, this concept of infinite oneness, of an inviolable perfection that cannot be stained by human sin, seems to have brought solace both to Spinoza and the ancient Vedics. Certainly neither of them seem to have used their various ideas of the infinite nature of the Universe and mind as an excuse for hedonistic parties or murderous rampages.
This person, when embraced by the intelligent self, knows nothing that is without, nothing that is within. This is indeed his true form, in which his wishes are fulfilled, in which the self only is his wish, in which no wish is left - free from any sorrow.
The Upanishads concept of Brahman is similar but not quite the same as Spinoza's God. While the Upanishads embrace the nature of infinity, they don't wholly reject the idea of an interfering God as Spinoza does, nor are they so ambiguous as to the immortal nature of the soul. Like Plato, they fully embrace the notion of an afterlife and the need (later adopted with gusto by Christianity) to do good works on Earth in order to enjoy immortality :
Now if a man departs from this life without having seen his true self, then that self, not being known, does not receive and bless him, as if the Veda had not been read, or as if a good work had not been done. Indeed, if one who does not know that self, should he still perform here on Earth some great holy work, it will perish for him in the end. Let a man worship the self only as his true state.
According to the Upanishads, for all that self-knowledge is limited, it is still possible to know the Self. While dreams access internal knowledge, sleep is, perhaps, a route to another realm after all :
When the sun has set, and the moon is not there, and the fire is gone out, and the sound is stilled, what then is the light of man ? The self indeed is his light.Who is that self ? He who is within the heart, surrounded by the senses, the person of light consisting of knowledge. He, remaining the same, wanders along the two worlds, as if thinking, as if moving. During sleep he transcends this world and the forms of death.


The Upanishads are fraught with more outright examples of mystical practises, of rituals and incantations and the power of words. I doubt you could really call them a work of philosophical inquiry, but they undeniably present a work of philosophical exploration. Replete with mysticism, they also contain clearly rational and sophisticated ideas. If nothing else, they are a powerful reminder that religious thinking is not always synonymous with primitive superstition, nor faith an act of pure irrationality. And of course, they're also a reminder to get something to eat.

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