A few days ago, Shelly, S, and I had dinner together at a Thai restaurant, where the conversation turned to Turing computability, representing data in n-dimensional space, constructing an experiment from within a virtual reality environment like the Matrix that could determine whether or not the environment was a virtual reality, and other light dinnertime fare.
During the conversation, Shelly made the observation that you’re more likely to hear things like “Turing computable” at any given time in our house than you are to hear words like “cheese” or “toilet paper.”
There are two kinds of people in the world: those who divide people into two kinds, and those who don’t. According to some members of the former group, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who think, and speak, in terms of abstract ideas and concepts, and who use abstract language and metaphor in their communication, and those who think in terms of concrete concepts, and have difficulty grasping and understanding abstract communication.
Now, I’ve dated people who have difficulty with abstract ideas and concepts. One thing I’ve learned is that I do better in relationships with people who can think abstractly. Another thing I’ve learned is that people who lack the ability to think abstractly often lack the tools of introspection and inner contemplation which would allow them to understand themselves. This lack of introspection carries a high price tag–bot for themselves and for those around them.
Dr. Roger Penrose is fond of handwaving. He got a lot of newspaper inches a while ago by proposing that artificial intelligence is impossible on the grounds that consciousness, intelligence, and self-awareness are quantum effects. He even wrote a book on the subject. This book is 480 pages long, but in case you haven’t time to read it, it can be summed up this way:
“I really, really, really, really, really don’t want consciousness to be possible in a computer. Thinking that a computer could be as smart as a person makes me very, very uncomfortable, and makes me feel less special. So here’s a lot of handwaving about how impossible it is. Look! It’s impossible! Quantum mechanics! Quantum mechanics! Of course, I’m not a neurobiologist, but I’ll throw in a bunch of really scientific-sounding language and a whole lot of math in the hopes that you don’t notice the fact that I’m not actually proposing any REASON why quantum mechanics should be necessary for thought, nor proposing any mechanism by which quantum effects occur within the brain, nor even describing any way whatsoever that quantum mechanics might affect the functioning of a neuron. But did I mention I really, really don’t WANT artificial intelligence to be possible?”
Dr. Penrose, whose degree is in pure mathematics as opposed to, say, cognition, neuroscience, or quantum mechanics, has a history of this sort of thinking. In 1989, he gave an interview in Scientific American in which he rejected quantum string theory because “It’s just not the way I’d expect the answer to be.” Now, string theory may or may not be correct, and it may or may not have value, but to reject it because it’s “not how I’d expect the answer to be” is bad science–and on top of that, it’s stupid. Albert Einstein made the same mistake when he rejected quantum mechanics for religious reasons; as a result, he spent the last fifteen years of his life as a living monument, contributing nothing to physics because his religious beliefs would not let him accept the truth.
People make this same mistake all the time. I’ve known many people who have difficulty with introspection who end up believing things about themselves which are manifestly and obviously (to those around them, anyway) untrue, because they are unwilling or unable to examine their beliefs about themselves and unwilling to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth.
For example, I know people who insist that they are rational and logical, and who express a disdain for “mere emotion.” Not surprisingly, many of these people are the most emotional people I’ve ever met, and some of them live lives completely ruled by their emotions. Wihtout the capacity for abstract thought, and the capacity for introspection which seems to rely on it, they simply don’t NOTICE–or perhaps, don’t acknowledge–the almost entirely irrational and emotional ways they make their decisions. No introspection means an enormous blind spot to the most basic truths about yourself; no capacity for abstract thinking seems, for some reason, to mean no introspection. At least, I have yet to encounter anyone who lacks the ability to think abstractly yet who still has good introspective skills.
People put a lot of effort into their insecurities and into their discomforts. Introspection is sometims uncomfortable, because it may bring one face-to-face with some truths which are as uncomfortable as the notion of artificial intelligence is to Dr. Penrose. But avoiding the truth out of fear of discomfort works outwardly as well as inwardly. Dr. penrose is made uncomfortable by the notion of a machine with the cognitive ability of a person; closer to home (and more ploddingly pedestrian), many people fear hearing the truth about their partner’s sexual history, say, because of the same discomforts. A person who fears and avoids discomfort is unlikely ever to reach the truth about anything–himself, his partner, the world around him. The more pedestrian forms of avoidance aren’t as interesting as Penrose’s 480 pages of handwaving, but their effects are more immediate.
Last night, I had a conversation with datan0de. It went something like this:
ME: “You’re the reason I’m going to crush the world in my iron fist.”
datan0de: “Do you mean literally or figuratively? Are you actually going to crush the world in an enormous fist made out of iron?”
ME: “Of course I mean that literally! It’s more satisfying, don’t you think?”
datan0de: “Depends on where you’re standing.”
datan0de seems equally comfortable in the realm of the abstract (demonstrating that the set of real numbers is an uncountable infinity, for example) or the concrete (talking about how fast an actual fist made out of iron that’s three-quarters the mass of the Earth would take to rust). That’s quite a trick; I can talk to someone who thinks only in concrete terms–an eighteen-year relationship with a person who can’t think abstractly taught me that skill–but I’m happier talking in abstract terms, because it’s closer to how I conceptualize the universe. Shelly’s even more extreme in that regard.
There’s a lesson in here somewhere. People who don’t think of themselves and the world around them in abstract ways seem, at least in my experience, to be more uncomfortable by the truth, and to resist more strongly the idea that introspection is a tool which has value. I’m not sure why introspection and abstract thought are coupled, though it certainly seems to be the case. In any event, the less likely someone is to confront some part of his or her personality unflinchingly, the more likely that person is to become angry at the suggestion that he should. Suggest to someone who’s jealous or insecure in his relationship that he should examine the causes of those insecurities, with an eye toward overcoming them, and you’re likely to meet quite a hostile response. Point out to someone who believes herself to be rational and analytical that she is making profound, life-shaping decisions solely on the basis of an emotional response, and you’ll really end up in the shit. In a weird, snake-eating-its-tail kind of way, this response, and the avoidance of discomfort that produces it, itself is seen as a beneficial and positive thing–suggest to someone that there is value in exploring things which are ucomfortable and the very fact that theey are uncomfortable is itself held up as proof that they have no value.
Penrose avoids his discomfort by writing hundreds of pages of vigorous handwaving; other peope avoid their discomfort by insisting that they are something they are not, or avoiding intimacy and the knowledge of a partner’s past that comes with it. But avoiding uncomfortable things is not the same thing as mastering those things. Smetimes, life is uncomfortable; sometimes, the truth is uncomfortable. In the end, however, living in a world where the truth is acknowledged is superior to building a life out of avoiding the truth.
Well.. things like motivation, personality, judgement, justification.. really all the things that take place inside aren’t concrete. So it doesn’t really seem surprising that hostility towards abstract thinking implies hostility towards instrospection.
But I would add that we’re not talking about a meyers briggs N/S dichotomy. It seems that the people who really don’t find any value in introspection are not people who tend towards concrete thinking, but people who land on the very extreme edge of it. I know lots of introspective concrete thinkers – likely because they are a balance of both abstract and concrete modes.
Perhaps it’s safe to say that a lack of introspective skills is one of the things that can happen to an S when they’re not balancing their behavior and learning difficult skills?
(In the same way that, say, being on time for things is difficult for ENFPs.)
Well.. things like motivation, personality, judgement, justification.. really all the things that take place inside aren’t concrete. So it doesn’t really seem surprising that hostility towards abstract thinking implies hostility towards instrospection.
But I would add that we’re not talking about a meyers briggs N/S dichotomy. It seems that the people who really don’t find any value in introspection are not people who tend towards concrete thinking, but people who land on the very extreme edge of it. I know lots of introspective concrete thinkers – likely because they are a balance of both abstract and concrete modes.
A couple of really tangential points:
1. I was a Philosophy major, and i once went to a talk about AI in which the presenter’s hypothesis was that artificial intelligence is not possible without personality. I don’t recall the details, but he didn’t rule out the possibility of artificial personality, either.
2. I think there’s probably such a thing as too little introspection. Do you think it’s possible to do too much of it (often called “navel-gazing”)? I have exes who are very compassionate and thoughtful people who don’t spend much time analyizing themselves and in fact seem to be somehwhat proud of that, and I know people who are so constantly involved in introspection that they come off as spectacularly selfish. It’s a curious thing.
1. There are plenty of flesh-and-blood folks with intelligence and no personality – why would it be so difficult to construct an electronic version?
2. It depends on the *point* of the navel-gazing. If you’ve contemplated long enough to figure out where your boundaries, morals, and preferences lie, you probably don’t need to do it constantly unless there’s some sort of epiphany. If you’re navel-gazing because you want to *appear* introspective and deep, then you probably aren’t.
I think introspection is a cycle, and there comes a point where it leads you to action. Presumably if you’re introspecting you’re attempting to make your own life better or the world better or something like that, and I think if you’re truly searching for that you will hit a point where your mind is constantly drawn to strategy and action until you feel like you can no longer sit still.
I guess my point is that extreme introspection leads to action – not more introspection. I suspect that “naval gazing” has more to do with avoidance than it does introspection.
Introspection, like any tool, can be abused. A person who does nothing but introspect runs the risk of becoming completely narcissistic, and of never leaving the couch. Interspection, used properly, is a means to an end–a vehicle for understanding one’s self with an eye toward being able to make wise decisions–rather than an end in itself.
Now, being proud of not doing any introspection is something I’ve seen before, and it’s slightly baffling. It seems a bit like taking prode in ignorance–“Hey! Look at me! I don’t understand why I do the things I do, so my life is ruled by the combination of knee-jerk emotional response and whim! I can’t be counted on to consider the consequences of my actions, because I don’t even know what motivates them! Isn’t that cool?” Takes all kinds, I suppose.
On the first question: I suspect that intelligence and self-awareness does imply a personality of some sort. The real pickle, though, is that an AI is, by definition, not human. So I would expect it to have a personality, but (unless it was modelled on a human brain) I would not necessarily expect it to have a human personality. It might be so different, in fact, that its personality would seem incomprehensible and inaccessible to us.
A couple of really tangential points:
1. I was a Philosophy major, and i once went to a talk about AI in which the presenter’s hypothesis was that artificial intelligence is not possible without personality. I don’t recall the details, but he didn’t rule out the possibility of artificial personality, either.
2. I think there’s probably such a thing as too little introspection. Do you think it’s possible to do too much of it (often called “navel-gazing”)? I have exes who are very compassionate and thoughtful people who don’t spend much time analyizing themselves and in fact seem to be somehwhat proud of that, and I know people who are so constantly involved in introspection that they come off as spectacularly selfish. It’s a curious thing.
Because introspection requires concentration on things that are intangible…abstract.
Most people I have known hhave a limited capacity for abstract thought. Think of Algebra vs. Geometry.
Because introspection requires concentration on things that are intangible…abstract.
you *do* have a great point here. i was about to suggest just the same thing when i read your comment.
besides, for people with low abstarct thinking skills, the concentration required for introspection is surely much stronger than for people who are used to such effort when abstract thinking. at least that’s the way i see it.
Because introspection requires concentration on things that are intangible…abstract.
Most people I have known hhave a limited capacity for abstract thought. Think of Algebra vs. Geometry.
Because introspection requires concentration on things that are intangible…abstract.
you *do* have a great point here. i was about to suggest just the same thing when i read your comment.
besides, for people with low abstarct thinking skills, the concentration required for introspection is surely much stronger than for people who are used to such effort when abstract thinking. at least that’s the way i see it.
if the giant fist is in space it shouldnt rust, so the question would only be valid once you crushed the earth with it and its mass attracted some bits from earth so it could oxidize.
if the giant fist is in space it shouldnt rust, so the question would only be valid once you crushed the earth with it and its mass attracted some bits from earth so it could oxidize.
Let’s be perfectly clear with our terms here, my dear arch-nemesis. Conversation with you is never “comfortable”. It would be more accurate to describe it as “disquieting”, “vaguely menacing”, or “alarming”. Sometimes it even produces outright panic- most often when the conversation starts with you holding a test tube of grey, viscous liquid and saying “here, drink this”.
Getting to your actual point, I don’t see myself as being particularly adept at abstract thinking. Our infinite integer conversation last night pretty much pushed my limits (at least without resorting to pen and paper). If I can’t visualize it in my head, at least to some extent, then I tend to get lost pretty quickly.
My introspection tends to be reductionist which, as we’ve discussed, has led to some less-than-comfortable conclusions. So maybe I’m less abstract than I am masochistic. 🙂
“Why do you scowl? You must enjoy this battle more, nemesis!” – Kenshin Uesugi to Shingen Takeda, Samurai Warriors
Let’s be perfectly clear with our terms here, my dear arch-nemesis. Conversation with you is never “comfortable”. It would be more accurate to describe it as “disquieting”, “vaguely menacing”, or “alarming”. Sometimes it even produces outright panic- most often when the conversation starts with you holding a test tube of grey, viscous liquid and saying “here, drink this”.
Getting to your actual point, I don’t see myself as being particularly adept at abstract thinking. Our infinite integer conversation last night pretty much pushed my limits (at least without resorting to pen and paper). If I can’t visualize it in my head, at least to some extent, then I tend to get lost pretty quickly.
My introspection tends to be reductionist which, as we’ve discussed, has led to some less-than-comfortable conclusions. So maybe I’m less abstract than I am masochistic. 🙂
Wow, this is very rich reading indeed. Linking a predeliction for abstract thought to unwillingness to believe things that you don’t like. Neat. I hadn’t thought about that.
People who talk seriously about quantum mechanics without understanding it are really annoying. I try to avoid it.
Wow, this is very rich reading indeed. Linking a predeliction for abstract thought to unwillingness to believe things that you don’t like. Neat. I hadn’t thought about that.
People who talk seriously about quantum mechanics without understanding it are really annoying. I try to avoid it.
Perhaps it’s safe to say that a lack of introspective skills is one of the things that can happen to an S when they’re not balancing their behavior and learning difficult skills?
(In the same way that, say, being on time for things is difficult for ENFPs.)
“Current mood: introspective.”
Ya don’t say!
Oh, and BTW, thanks for saving me the time reading the book by Dr. Penrose; I had noticed it on the bookshelf the other day and thought to myself to pick it up.
Ok, so not really. But I really, really, really, really enjoyed your critique.
“Current mood: introspective.”
Ya don’t say!
Oh, and BTW, thanks for saving me the time reading the book by Dr. Penrose; I had noticed it on the bookshelf the other day and thought to myself to pick it up.
Ok, so not really. But I really, really, really, really enjoyed your critique.
1. There are plenty of flesh-and-blood folks with intelligence and no personality – why would it be so difficult to construct an electronic version?
2. It depends on the *point* of the navel-gazing. If you’ve contemplated long enough to figure out where your boundaries, morals, and preferences lie, you probably don’t need to do it constantly unless there’s some sort of epiphany. If you’re navel-gazing because you want to *appear* introspective and deep, then you probably aren’t.
Roger Penrose tried to claim exclusive legal rights to one of his mathematical discoveries once. To paraphrase one article writer, imagine if Mandelbrot patented fractals…
And to think he’s knighted. He’s Sir Roger Penrose. Hmph.
But I digress. I apologize for adapting a noble BDSM term to this, but I suppose that when it comes to abstract vs. concrete, I’m a “switch”. I was Mr. Left Brain growing up, or so I thought. I couldn’t draw; I didn’t seem to have a musical instinct; I didn’t seem to have much of a personality, really. But I was a mathematical prodigy. Arithmetic was so easy for me it was boring. I adored puzzles, though, and that perhaps, come to think of it, was my breakthrough. What I came to discover as I grew up is that my creative side – and my intuition, if you will – was just as strong as my calculative side. I realized that the act of solving puzzles is really just as much exercise for one hemisphere of the brain as the other. Good thing too, otherwise I’d be quite the dullard today. [I heard that snicker…]
I know lots of people locked into one route or the other. (I have a coworker who loves his “thirty-thousand-foot views” so much that he tries to physically build his metaphorical buildings from the top down.) I consider myself fortunate that I can see both sides. I can build a puzzle as well as I solve one; I can come up with a song as well as I sing one (and if Karaoke Revolution is any judge, I’m not bad); I can bring things into existence almost as well as I can make them up. It takes creativity and intellect to achieve cleverness, and that’s just about the greatest thing anyone can aspire to.
It wasn’t until I started examining myself as a person that I made this discovery, and I firmly believe I’m a better person for it. The funny thing is, I had no objection to introspection – I just never thought to really do it when I was a kid. I suppose it was right around the time I first realized I fell in love that I started to really think about myself in that manner. That must be when I truly gained an identity. I find people that can’t look at their own inner truths often can’t deal with truths external to them as well, and they frighten me – if they can’t learn, and can’t recognize themselves as individuals, they’re no better than machines… and really dangerous ones at that, since I can’t legally turn them off. But I am a person. I have reason and vision. I can see truths about myself and the world around me, and I can see ways to change things, to create new elements of existence to place into the world. I am not tied to just the concrete or the abstract – I can honestly think.
I still can’t draw, though. – ZM
It takes creativity and intellect to achieve cleverness, and that’s just about the greatest thing anyone can aspire to.”
Bingo.
I know some who can’t make or appreciate a pun to save their freakin’ lives; others who dwell so deep in their own abstractions they cannot be understood whatsoever, since the listener knows not to what concrete concept to anchor at the appropriate time.
Cleverness relies upon knowledge of and reference to specific concrete fact, juxtaposed abstractly to other, very different concrete facts.
Nice observation!
Thanks. I forget how long ago it was that I came up with that, but it wasn’t that long. It was in response to someone asking for a connotative definition of cleverness, and I had to think: We don’t call scientists or brainiacs clever, we don’t call talk show hosts and self-help gurus clever… we call inventors and game designers clever. I put the pieces together from there. – ZM
Roger Penrose tried to claim exclusive legal rights to one of his mathematical discoveries once. To paraphrase one article writer, imagine if Mandelbrot patented fractals…
And to think he’s knighted. He’s Sir Roger Penrose. Hmph.
But I digress. I apologize for adapting a noble BDSM term to this, but I suppose that when it comes to abstract vs. concrete, I’m a “switch”. I was Mr. Left Brain growing up, or so I thought. I couldn’t draw; I didn’t seem to have a musical instinct; I didn’t seem to have much of a personality, really. But I was a mathematical prodigy. Arithmetic was so easy for me it was boring. I adored puzzles, though, and that perhaps, come to think of it, was my breakthrough. What I came to discover as I grew up is that my creative side – and my intuition, if you will – was just as strong as my calculative side. I realized that the act of solving puzzles is really just as much exercise for one hemisphere of the brain as the other. Good thing too, otherwise I’d be quite the dullard today. [I heard that snicker…]
I know lots of people locked into one route or the other. (I have a coworker who loves his “thirty-thousand-foot views” so much that he tries to physically build his metaphorical buildings from the top down.) I consider myself fortunate that I can see both sides. I can build a puzzle as well as I solve one; I can come up with a song as well as I sing one (and if Karaoke Revolution is any judge, I’m not bad); I can bring things into existence almost as well as I can make them up. It takes creativity and intellect to achieve cleverness, and that’s just about the greatest thing anyone can aspire to.
It wasn’t until I started examining myself as a person that I made this discovery, and I firmly believe I’m a better person for it. The funny thing is, I had no objection to introspection – I just never thought to really do it when I was a kid. I suppose it was right around the time I first realized I fell in love that I started to really think about myself in that manner. That must be when I truly gained an identity. I find people that can’t look at their own inner truths often can’t deal with truths external to them as well, and they frighten me – if they can’t learn, and can’t recognize themselves as individuals, they’re no better than machines… and really dangerous ones at that, since I can’t legally turn them off. But I am a person. I have reason and vision. I can see truths about myself and the world around me, and I can see ways to change things, to create new elements of existence to place into the world. I am not tied to just the concrete or the abstract – I can honestly think.
I still can’t draw, though. – ZM
“Why do you scowl? You must enjoy this battle more, nemesis!” – Kenshin Uesugi to Shingen Takeda, Samurai Warriors
I think introspection is a cycle, and there comes a point where it leads you to action. Presumably if you’re introspecting you’re attempting to make your own life better or the world better or something like that, and I think if you’re truly searching for that you will hit a point where your mind is constantly drawn to strategy and action until you feel like you can no longer sit still.
I guess my point is that extreme introspection leads to action – not more introspection. I suspect that “naval gazing” has more to do with avoidance than it does introspection.
For example, I know people who insist that they are rational and logical, and who express a disdain for “mere emotion.”
Ah, this in particular resonated with me. A recent discussion with a member of our poly family left me dumbfounded, as he told me, “You just analyze too much. I communicate just fine with tons of people without all this emotional talk.”
Yikes. He’s just my metamour, not my own lover, but still, I have to say I lost a lot of respect for him that day. How can one be poly and not respect communication about emotions and concepts?
Ah, this in particular resonated with me. A recent discussion with a member of our poly family left me dumbfounded, as he told me, “You just analyze too much. I communicate just fine with tons of people without all this emotional talk.”
I had a similar conversation with my ex-wife, shortly before our divorce. She was quite hostile to the idea of introspection–she does what she does, she feels what she feels, what’s the point of all this talking about it and thinking about it? Scary stuff.
How can one be poly and not respect communication about emotions and concepts?
Quite easily, if some of my more unfortunate experiences in the poly community are any indication.
For example, I know people who insist that they are rational and logical, and who express a disdain for “mere emotion.”
Ah, this in particular resonated with me. A recent discussion with a member of our poly family left me dumbfounded, as he told me, “You just analyze too much. I communicate just fine with tons of people without all this emotional talk.”
Yikes. He’s just my metamour, not my own lover, but still, I have to say I lost a lot of respect for him that day. How can one be poly and not respect communication about emotions and concepts?
Nice post. Nail hit firmly on head.
Most of my own frustrating conversations, the ones that leads to the mostest screamings, involve people that simply cannot escape their own preconceptions to deal for even a moment with a hypothetical abstraction. Sometimes they try to concretely pigeonhole the elements of the temporary scenario, thus ruining the abstraction, so I end up changing the scenario entirely to escape the sticking points, just to convey the original point. Then they really get confused.
“Wait, are we talking about dinosaurs or cheese?”
“Both.”
(Silent blinking, smoke detected near ears. Very Norman 1.)
“Depends on where you’re standing.”
Of course, why do you need to stand at all? The image of a disembodied iron fist shining malevolently in orbit about a soon-to-be-crushed earth, rusting only after contact with the oceans. . . . Oh, you would be standing on/in the wrist, duh. Iron heavy.
“There are two kinds of people in the world: those who divide people into two kinds, and those who don’t.”
On a related note, 47% of all statistics are fabricated on the spot.
“Of course, why do you need to stand at all? The image of a disembodied iron fist shining malevolently in orbit about a soon-to-be-crushed earth, rusting only after contact with the oceans. . . . Oh, you would be standing on/in the wrist, duh. Iron heavy.”
But that vantage point doesn’t give the best view. I think perhaps for only a modest increase in the total cost of the project, I could build a heavily armed space fortress as well, and watch the excitement from it as the fist closes slowly around the helpless planet…
Nice post. Nail hit firmly on head.
Most of my own frustrating conversations, the ones that leads to the mostest screamings, involve people that simply cannot escape their own preconceptions to deal for even a moment with a hypothetical abstraction. Sometimes they try to concretely pigeonhole the elements of the temporary scenario, thus ruining the abstraction, so I end up changing the scenario entirely to escape the sticking points, just to convey the original point. Then they really get confused.
“Wait, are we talking about dinosaurs or cheese?”
“Both.”
(Silent blinking, smoke detected near ears. Very Norman 1.)
“Depends on where you’re standing.”
Of course, why do you need to stand at all? The image of a disembodied iron fist shining malevolently in orbit about a soon-to-be-crushed earth, rusting only after contact with the oceans. . . . Oh, you would be standing on/in the wrist, duh. Iron heavy.
“There are two kinds of people in the world: those who divide people into two kinds, and those who don’t.”
On a related note, 47% of all statistics are fabricated on the spot.
It takes creativity and intellect to achieve cleverness, and that’s just about the greatest thing anyone can aspire to.”
Bingo.
I know some who can’t make or appreciate a pun to save their freakin’ lives; others who dwell so deep in their own abstractions they cannot be understood whatsoever, since the listener knows not to what concrete concept to anchor at the appropriate time.
Cleverness relies upon knowledge of and reference to specific concrete fact, juxtaposed abstractly to other, very different concrete facts.
Nice observation!
Dr. Penrose, Albert Einstein, and previously mentioned by you, Lord Kelvin. Interesting.
Tesla would have invented the radio years before Marconi, had he seen any value in the technology. (Marconi used many of Tesla’s patents to make his set.) Henry Ford revolutionized the way autos were assembled — once, and then bitched and moaned when he had to spend years retooling for the Model A.
Have you considered a book about the innovations that were delayed, sometimes by years, because of this intractability of the thinkers of the time?
There is a saying in the physics community: “Physics advances one funeral at a time.” That’s true of any intellectual pursuit, I suppose.
One of the hottest areas of research in neurophysiology these days is research into ways to restore the brain’s plasticity, to make learning and incorporating new ideas as effortless for an adult as it is for a four-year-old. I would be fascinated to see if that would help get rid of the rigidity and the refusal to accept new ideas that characterizes so many otherwise brilliant people.
Dr. Penrose, Albert Einstein, and previously mentioned by you, Lord Kelvin. Interesting.
Tesla would have invented the radio years before Marconi, had he seen any value in the technology. (Marconi used many of Tesla’s patents to make his set.) Henry Ford revolutionized the way autos were assembled — once, and then bitched and moaned when he had to spend years retooling for the Model A.
Have you considered a book about the innovations that were delayed, sometimes by years, because of this intractability of the thinkers of the time?
Thanks. I forget how long ago it was that I came up with that, but it wasn’t that long. It was in response to someone asking for a connotative definition of cleverness, and I had to think: We don’t call scientists or brainiacs clever, we don’t call talk show hosts and self-help gurus clever… we call inventors and game designers clever. I put the pieces together from there. – ZM
Introspection, like any tool, can be abused. A person who does nothing but introspect runs the risk of becoming completely narcissistic, and of never leaving the couch. Interspection, used properly, is a means to an end–a vehicle for understanding one’s self with an eye toward being able to make wise decisions–rather than an end in itself.
Now, being proud of not doing any introspection is something I’ve seen before, and it’s slightly baffling. It seems a bit like taking prode in ignorance–“Hey! Look at me! I don’t understand why I do the things I do, so my life is ruled by the combination of knee-jerk emotional response and whim! I can’t be counted on to consider the consequences of my actions, because I don’t even know what motivates them! Isn’t that cool?” Takes all kinds, I suppose.
After I read this, I wrote this (http://www.livejournal.com/users/old_man_summer/1190.html). Thought you might like to see it!
After I read this, I wrote this (http://www.livejournal.com/users/old_man_summer/1190.html). Thought you might like to see it!
On the first question: I suspect that intelligence and self-awareness does imply a personality of some sort. The real pickle, though, is that an AI is, by definition, not human. So I would expect it to have a personality, but (unless it was modelled on a human brain) I would not necessarily expect it to have a human personality. It might be so different, in fact, that its personality would seem incomprehensible and inaccessible to us.
Ah, this in particular resonated with me. A recent discussion with a member of our poly family left me dumbfounded, as he told me, “You just analyze too much. I communicate just fine with tons of people without all this emotional talk.”
I had a similar conversation with my ex-wife, shortly before our divorce. She was quite hostile to the idea of introspection–she does what she does, she feels what she feels, what’s the point of all this talking about it and thinking about it? Scary stuff.
How can one be poly and not respect communication about emotions and concepts?
Quite easily, if some of my more unfortunate experiences in the poly community are any indication.
“Of course, why do you need to stand at all? The image of a disembodied iron fist shining malevolently in orbit about a soon-to-be-crushed earth, rusting only after contact with the oceans. . . . Oh, you would be standing on/in the wrist, duh. Iron heavy.”
But that vantage point doesn’t give the best view. I think perhaps for only a modest increase in the total cost of the project, I could build a heavily armed space fortress as well, and watch the excitement from it as the fist closes slowly around the helpless planet…
There is a saying in the physics community: “Physics advances one funeral at a time.” That’s true of any intellectual pursuit, I suppose.
One of the hottest areas of research in neurophysiology these days is research into ways to restore the brain’s plasticity, to make learning and incorporating new ideas as effortless for an adult as it is for a four-year-old. I would be fascinated to see if that would help get rid of the rigidity and the refusal to accept new ideas that characterizes so many otherwise brilliant people.