Astral Codex Ten Podcast

From the New York Times: Are We Living In A Computer Simulation? Let's Not Find Out. It lists the standard reasons for thinking we might be in a simulation, then brings up some proposals for testing the hypothesis (for example, the cosmic background radiation might look different in simulations and real universes). But it suggests that we not do that, because if we learn we're in a simulation, that might ruin the simulation and cause the simulators to destroy the universe. But I think a little more thought suggests we don't have anything to worry about. In order to notice we had discovered our simulated nature, the simulators would have to have a monitor watching us. We should expect this anyway. Although humans may run some simulations without monitoring them carefully, the simulators have no reason to be equally careless; if they can simulate billions of sentient beings, their labor costs are necessarily near zero. Such a monitor would have complete instantaneous knowledge of everything happening in our universe, and since anyone who can simulate a whole planet must have really good data processing capabilities, it would be able to understand and act upon the entire content of its omniscient sensorium. It would see the fall of each sparrow, record the position of ever atom, have the level of situational awareness that gods could only dream of. What I'm saying is, it probably reads the New York Times. That means it knows these experiments are going to happen. If it cares about the results, it can fake them. Assuming for some reason that it messed up designing the cosmic background radiation (why are we assuming this, again?), it can correct that mistake now, or cause the experimental apparatus to report the wrong data, or do one of a million other things that would prevent us from learning we are in a simulation.

Or at least this is the theory proposed in Brain Evolution Through The Lens Of Parasite Manipulation by Marco del Giudice. The paper starts with an overview of parasite manipulation of host behavior. These are the stories you hear about toxoplasma-infected rats seeking out cats instead of running away from them, or zombie ants climbing stalks of grass so predators will eat them. The parasite secretes chemicals that alter host neurochemistry in ways that make the host get eaten, helping the parasite transfer itself to a new organism. Along with rats and ants, there is a dizzying variety of other parasite manipulation cases. They include parasitic wasps who hack spiders into forming protective webs for their pupae, parasitic flies that cause bees to journey far from their hive in order to spread fly larva more widely, and parasitic microorganisms that cause mosquitoes to draw less blood from each victim (since that forces the mosquitoes to feed on more victims, and so spread the parasite more widely). Parasitic nematodes make their ant hosts turn red, which causes (extremely stupid?) birds to mistake them for fruit and eat them. Parasitic worms make crickets seek water; as the cricket drowns, the worms escape into the pond and begin the next stage of their life cycle. Even mere viruses can alter behavior; the most famous example is rabies, which hacks dogs, bats, and other mammals into hyperaggressive moods that usually result in them biting someone and transmitting the rabies virus. Even our friendly gut microbes might be manipulating us. People talk a lot about the "gut-brain axis" and the effect of gut microbes on behavior, as if this is some sort of beautiful symbiotic circle-of-life style thing. But scientists have found that gut microbes trying to colonize fruit flies will hack the flies' food preferences to get a leg up – for example, a carb-metabolizing microbe will secrete hormones that make the fly want to eat more carbs than fat in order to outcompete its fat-metabolizing rivals for gut real estate; there are already papers speculating that the same processes might affect humans. Read Alcock 2014 and you will never look at food cravings the same way again.

Last year, a study came out showing that beef jerky and other cured meats, could trigger mania in bipolar disorder (paper, popular article). It was a pretty big deal, getting coverage in the national press and affecting the advice psychiatrists (including me) gave their patients. The study was pretty simple: psychiatrists at a mental hospital in Baltimore asked new patients if they had ever eaten any of a variety of foods. After getting a few hundred responses, they compared answers to controls and across diagnostic categories. The only hit that came up was that people in the hospital for bipolar mania were more likely to have said they ate dry cured meat like beef jerky (odds ratio 3.49). This survived various statistical comparisons and made some biological sense. The methodology was a little bit weird, because they only asked if they'd ever had the food, not if they'd eaten a lot of it just before becoming sick. If you had beef jerky once when you were fourteen, and ended up in the psych hospital when you were fifty-five, that counted. Either they were hoping that "ever had beef jerky at all" was a good proxy for "eats a lot of beef jerky right now", or that past consumption produced lasting changes in gut bacteria. In any case, they found a strong effect even after adjusting for confounders and doing the necessary Bonferroni corrections, so it's hard to argue with success.

There is a tide in the affairs of men. It cycles with a period of about three hundred years. During its flood, farms and businesses prosper, and great empires enjoy golden ages. During its ebb, war and famine stalk the land, and states collapse into barbarism. Chinese population over time At least this is the thesis of Peter Turchin and Sergey Nefedov, authors of Secular Cycles. They start off Malthusian: due to natural reproduction, population will keep increasing until it reaches the limits of what the land can support. At that point, everyone will be stuck at subsistence level. If any group ever enjoys a standard of living above subsistence level, they will keep reproducing until they are back down at subsistence. Standard Malthusian theory evokes images of a population stable at subsistence level forever. But Turchin and Nefedov argues this isn't how it works. A population at subsistence will always be one meal away from starving. When a famine hits, many of them will starve. When a plague hits, they will already be too sickly to fight it off. When conflict arrives, they will be desperate enough to enlist in the armies of whichever warlord can offer them a warm meal. These are not piecemeal events, picking off just enough of the population to bring it back to subsistence. They are great cataclysms. The Black Plague killed 30% – 60% of Europeans; the Antonine Plague of Rome was almost as deadly. The Thirty Years War killed 25% – 40% of Germans; the Time of Troubles may have killed 50% of medieval Russia. Thus the secular cycle. When population is low, everyone has more than enough land. People grow rich and reproduce. As time goes on, the same amount of farmland gets split among more and more people. Wages are driven down to subsistence. War, Famine, and Pestilence ravage the land, with Death not far behind. The killings continue until population is low again, at which point the cycle starts over. This applies mostly to peasants, who are most at risk of starving. But nobles go through a related process. As a cycle begins, their numbers are low. As time goes on, their population expands, both through natural reproduction and through upward mobility. Eventually, there are more nobles than there are good positions… (this part confused me a little. Shouldn't number of good positions scale with population? IE if one baron rules 1,000 peasants, the number of baronial positions should scale with the size of a society. I think T&N hint at a few answers. First, some positions are absolute rather than relative, eg "King" or "Minister of the Economy". Second, noble numbers may sometimes increase faster than peasant numbers, since nobles have more food and better chances to reproduce. Third, during boom times, the ranks of nobles are swelled through upward mobility. Fourth, conspicuous consumption is a ratchet effect: during boom times, the expectations of nobility should gradually rise. Fifth, sometimes the relevant denominator is not peasants but land: if a noble only has one acre of land, it doesn't matter how many peasants he controls. Sixth, nobles usually survive famines and plagues pretty well, so after those have done their work, there are far fewer peasants but basically the same number of nobles. All of these factors contribute to excess noble population – or as T&N call it, "elite overproduction")

"I don't practice what I preach because I'm not the kind of person I'm preaching to." — J. R. "Bob" Dobbs I. I read Atlas Shrugged probably about a decade ago, and felt turned off by its promotion of selfishness as a moral ideal. I thought that was basically just being a jerk. After all, if there's one thing the world doesn't need (I thought) it's more selfishness. Then I talked to a friend who told me Atlas Shrugged had changed his life. That he'd been raised in a really strict family that had told him that ever enjoying himself was selfish and made him a bad person, that he had to be working at every moment to make his family and other people happy or else let them shame him to pieces. And the revelation that it was sometimes okay to consider your own happiness gave him the strength to stand up to them and turn his life around, while still keeping the basic human instinct of helping others when he wanted to and he felt they deserved it (as, indeed, do Rand characters). II. The religious and the irreligious alike enjoy making fun of Reddit's r/atheism, which combines an extreme strawmanning of religious positions with childish insults and distasteful triumphalism. Recently the moderators themselves have become a bit embarrassed by it and instituted some rules intended to tone things down, leading to some of the most impressive Internet drama I have ever seen. In its midst, some people started talking about what the old strawmanning triumphalist r/atheism meant to them (see for example here).

There's a tradition on Reddit that when somebody repeats some cliche in a tone that makes it sound like she believes she is bringing some brilliant and heretical insight – like "I know I'm going to get downvoted for this, but believe we should have less government waste!" – people respond "SO BRAVE" in the comments. That's what I mean by bravery debates. Discussions over who is bravely holding a nonconformist position in the face of persecution, and who is a coward defending the popular status quo and trying to silence dissenters. These are frickin' toxic. I don't have a great explanation for why. It could be a status thing – saying that you're the original thinker who has cast off the Matrix of omnipresent conformity and your opponent is a sheeple (sherson?) too fearful to realize your insight. Or it could be that, as the saying goes, "everyone is fighting a hard battle", and telling someone else they've got it easy compared to you is just about the most demeaning thing you can do, especially when you're wrong. But the possible explanations aren't the point. The point is that, empirically, starting a bravery debate is the quickest way to make sure that a conversation becomes horrible and infuriating. I'm generalizing from my own experience here, but one of the least pleasant philosophical experiences is thinking you're bravely defending an unpopular but correct position, facing the constant persecution and prejudice from your more numerous and extremely smug opponents day in and day out without being worn-down … only to have one of your opponents offhandedly refer to how brave they are for resisting the monolithic machine that you and the rest of the unfairly-biased-toward-you culture have set up against them. You just want to scream NO YOU'RE WRONG SEFSEFILASDJO:IALJAOI:JA:O>ILFJASL:KFJ

Thanks to everyone who commented on Against Against Billionaire Philanthropy. For whatever reason, the comments there were exceptionally good. In particular, I'm happy that our usually-quiet leftists finally showed up with some strong (and interesting) pushback. I usually highlight good comments with short responses, but it was hard for me to avoid debating some of these. I realize that's complicated, because I can't quote most long comments in their entirety, and I realize I have more of a platform than other commenters who may feel I misrepresented them or who just want to reply to me. I don't have a great solution to this, but if you're annoyed at how I featured/responded to your comment, please tell me, so I can calibrate how serious a problem this is for next time.

I want to signal-boost Tumblr user squareallworthy's analysis of various UBI plans: 1. Jensen et al's plan 2. Healy et al's plan 3. Andrew Yang's plan 4. Torry's plan 5. Sheahen's plan 6. Dolan's plan 7. Stern and Murray's plans 8. Santens' plan 8½. Varoufakis and Reich's plan 9. Yang's plan, redux He finds that most of them fail on basic math – they rely on funding schemes that wouldn't come close to covering costs. The rest are too small to actually lift people out of poverty. None of them are at all credible. These plans fail even though they cheat and give themselves dictatorial power. "End corporate welfare, then redirect the money to UBI!" But if it was that easy to end corporate welfare, wouldn't people have done it already, for non-UBI related reasons? "We'll get a UBI by ending corporate welfare" is an outrageous claim. And even the plans that let themselves make it fail on basic math. This is humbling and depressing. And it concludes the intelligent and useful part of this post that signal-boosts the work of a responsible person. Everything below is epistemic status: wild speculation.

[Conflict of interest notice: I've volunteered for both private and public charities, but more often private. I received a small amount of money for work done for a private charity ten years ago. Some of the private charities have been partially funded by billionaires.] From Vox: The Case Against Billionaire Philanthropy. It joins The Guardian, Truthout, Dissent Magazine, CityLab, and a host of other people and organizations arguing that rich people giving to charity is now a big problem. I'm against this. I understand concern about the growing power of the very rich. But I worry the movement against billionaire charity is on track to damage charity a whole lot more than it damages billionaires. Eleven points: 1. Is criticizing billionaire philanthropy a good way to protest billionaires having too much power in society? Which got more criticism? Mark Zuckerberg giving $100 million to help low-income students? Or Mark Zuckerberg buying a $59 million dollar mansion in Lake Tahoe? Obviously it's the low-income students. I've heard people criticizing Zuckerberg's donation constantly for years, and I didn't even know he had a $59 million Lake Tahoe mansion until I googled "things mark zuckerberg has spent ridiculous amounts of money on" in the process of writing this paragraph. Which got more negative press? Jeff Bezos donating $2 billion for preschools for underprivileged children? Or Jeff Bezos spending $2 billion on whatever is going to come up when I Google "things jeff bezos has spent ridiculous amounts of money on?".

[Trigger warning: Death, pain, suffering, sadness] I. Some people, having completed the traditional forms of empty speculation – "What do you want to be when you grow up?", "If you could bang any celebrity who would it be?" – turn to "What will you say as your last words?" Sounds like a valid question. You can go out with a wisecrack, like Oscar Wilde ("Either this wallpaper goes or I do"). Or with piety and humility, like Jesus ("Into thy hands, o Father, I commend my spirit.") Or burning with defiance, like Karl Marx ("Last words are for fools who haven't said enough.") Well, this is an atheist/skeptic blog, so let me do my job of puncturing all your pleasant dreams. You'll probably never become an astronaut. You're not going to bang Emma Watson. And your last words will probably be something like "mmmrrrgggg graaaaaaaaaaaHAAACK!" I guess I always pictured dying as – unless you got hit by a truck or something – a bittersweet and strangely beautiful process. You'd grow older and weaker and gradually get some disease and feel your time was upon you. You'd be in a nice big bed at home with all your friends and family gathered around. You'd gradually feel the darkness closing in. You'd tell them all how much you loved them, there would be tears, you would say something witty or pious or defiant, and then you would close your eyes and drift away into a dreamless sleep. And I think this happens sometimes. For all I know, maybe it happens quite a lot. If it does, I never see these people. They very wisely stay far away from hospitals and the medical system in general. I see the other kind of people.