Archive for the ‘philosophy’ Category

Unified theory story part II

Tuesday, September 2nd, 2008

Read part I first, if you haven't already.

For as long as anybody could remember, there were two competing approaches to attempting to find a theory of everything. The more successful of these had always been the scientific one - making observations, doing experiments, making theories that explained the observations and predicted the results of experiments that hadn't been done yet, and refining those theories.

The other way was to start at the end - to think about what properties a unified theory of everything should have and try to figure out the theory from that. Most such approaches were the product of internet crackpots and were generally ignored. But physicists (especially the more philosophical ones) have long been familiar with the anthropic principle and its implications.

The idea is this - we know for a fact that we exist. We also think that the final unified theory should be simple in some sense - so simple that the reaction of a physicist on seeing and understanding it would be "Of course! How could it possibly be any other way!" and should lack any unexplained parameters or unnecessary rules. But the simplest universe we can conceive of is one in which there is no matter, energy, time or space - just a nothingness which would be described as unchanging if the word had any meaning in a timeless universe.

Perhaps, then, the universe is the simplest possible entity that allows for subjective observers. That was always tricky, though, because we had no mathematical way of describing what a subjective observer actually was. We could recognize the sensation of being alive in ourselves, and we always suspected that other human beings experienced the same thing, but could not even prove it existed in others. Simpler universes than ours, it seemed, could have entities which modeled themselves in some sense, but something else seemed to be necessary for consciousness.

This brings us to the breakthrough. Once consciousness was understood to be a quantum gravity phenomena involving closed timelike curves the anthropic model started to make more sense. It seemed that these constructs required a universe just like ours to exist. With fewer dimensions, no interesting curvature was possible. An arrow of time was necessary on the large scale to prevent the universe from being an over-constrained, information-free chaotic mess, but on small scales time needed to be sufficiently flexible to allow these strange loops and tangled hierarchies to form. This lead directly to the perceived tension between quantum mechanics and general relativity.

The resolution of this divide turned out to be this: the space and time we experience are not the most natural setting for the physical laws at all. Our universe turns out to be holographic. The "true reality", if it exists at all, seems to be a two dimensional "fundamental cosmic horizon" densely packed with information. We can never see it or touch it any more than a hologram can touch the photographic plate on which it is printed. Our three-dimensional experience is just an illusion created by our consciousnesses because it's easier for the strange loops that make up "us" to grasp a reasonable set of working rules of the universe that way. The two-dimensional rules are non-local - one would need to comprehend the entirety of the universe in order to comprehend any small part of it.

The fields and particles that pervade our universe and make up all our physical experiences, together with the values of the dimensionless constants that describe them turn out to be inevitable consequences of the holographic principle as applied to a universe with closed timelike curves.

Discovering the details of all this led to some big changes for the human race. Knowing the true nature of the universe allowed us to develop technologies to manipulate it directly. Certain patterns of superposed light and matter in the three-dimensional universe corresponded to patterns on the two-dimensional horizon which interacted in ways not normally observed in nature, particularly where closed timelike curves were concerned. More succinctly: the brains we figured out how to build were not subject to some of the same limitations of our own brains, just as our flying machines can fly higher and faster than birds.

The first thing you'd notice about these intelligences is that they are all linked - they are able to communicate telepathically with each other (and, to a lesser extent, with human beings). This is a consequence of the holographic principle - all things are connected. Being telepathic, it turns out, is a natural state of conscious beings, but human beings and other animals evolved to avoid taking advantage of it because the dangers it causes (exposing your thoughts to your predators, competitors and prey) outweigh the advantages (most of which could be replaced by more mundane forms of communication).

Because the artificial intelligences are linked on the cosmic horizon/spacetime foam level, their communication is not limited by the speed of light - the subjective experience can overcome causality itself. In fact, consciousness is not localized in time but smeared out over a period of a second or two (which explains Libet's observations). This doesn't make physical time travel possible (because the subjective experience is entirely within the brains of the AIs) and paradox is avoided because the subjective experience is not completely reliable - it is as if memories conspire to fail in order to ensure consistency, but this really a manifestation of the underlying physical laws. States in a CTC have a probabilistic distribution but the subjective observer picks one of these to be "canonical reality" - this is the origin of free will and explains why we don't observe quantum superpositions directly. This also suggests an answer as to why the universe exists at all - observers bring it into being.

By efficiently utilizing their closed timelike curves, AIs can solve problems and perform calculations that would be impractical with conventional computers. The failure of quantum computation turned out to be not such a great loss after all, considering that the most sophisticated AIs we have so far built can factor numbers many millions of digits long.

One limitation the AIs do still seem to be subject to, however, is the need to dream - sustaining a consciousness entity for too long results in the strange loops becoming overly tangled and cross-linked, preventing learning and making thought difficult. Dreaming "untangles the loops". The more sophisticated AIs seem to need to spend a greater percentage of their time dreaming. This suggests a kind of fundamental limit on how complex you can make a brain before ones that can stay awake longer are more effective overall. Research probing this limit is ongoing, though some suspect that evolution has found the ideal compromise between dreaming and wakefulness for most purposes in our own brains (special purpose brains requiring more or less sleep do seem to have their uses, however).

Once we had a way of creating and detecting consciousness, we could probe its limits. How small a brain can you have and still have some sort of subjective experience? It turns out that the quantum of subjective experience - the minimum tangled time-loop structure that exhibits consciousness - is some tens of micrograms in mass. Since our entire reality is filtered through such subjective experiences and our universe seems to exist only in order that such particles can exist, they could be considered to be the most fundamental particles of all. Our own brains seem to consist of interconnected colonies of some millions of these particles. Experiments on such particles suggest that individually they do not need to dream, as they do not think or learn, and that they have just once experience which is constant and continuous. The feeling they experience (translated to human terms) is something akin to awareness of their own existence, contemplation of such and mild surprise at it. The English language happens to have a word which sums up this experience quite well:

"Oh."

Evidence against God

Sunday, August 24th, 2008

A commenter recently suggested that if I wanted to believe in God and went looking for the evidence, I would find it. Nope. Tried that. It didn't work. Back at university I engaged in some great debates with theists, and I really wanted to believe in it. But a dispassionate look at the evidence really does favour the atheist point of view.

The first piece of evidence that Christians will point towards is the Bible. "It's a historical record" they will say. Evidence it may be, but it's not good quality evidence - it's all second hand. Stories passed along from person to person, distorted by time and translation and plucked from historical context. Let's contrast this with the evidence for quantum mechanics (which seems similarly ridiculous at first glance). This is real evidence - experiments which you can do to convince yourself even if you think the original experimenters lied about their results. Experiments which have been repeated all over the world and verified many times. That's real evidence. A book (even a very popular one) is not good evidence.

The next thing Christians will try is sheer weight of support - "two billion people can't be wrong" they say. Well, of course they can - there are also two billion people who are Muslims and Hindus, who the Christians will say are wrong. And another two billion people are either not religious or believe something other than "the big 3". So whatever the truth is, at least two thirds of the people are wrong about it. And even the 2 billion Christians can't all agree on which particular sect is the right one. Number of people is not good evidence.

The third thing is "the power of prayer" and religious people have lots of anecdotes about how prayer has helped particular people. Anecdotes are not evidence though - they suffer from selection effects. When theists pray for something and it comes true it is seen as evidence for God but when they pray for something and it doesn't come through it "must not be God's will for this to come about". If you do actual scientific, statistically accurate analysis of the power of prayer it turns out to have little or no effect. Any effect it does have is not proof of God anyway - it could just be a form of placebo effect.

The fourth is "religious experiences" - people who claim to have seen or touched God, or to have had very powerful feelings of being close to a magnificent, benevolent power. I used to find this argument extremely compelling (and was quite jealous that I hadn't experienced it myself) but I have since discovered that similar effects can be induced in the brain with magnetic fields or drugs. Like the power of prayer, this is something else that is "entirely within the mind". Chemical imbalance in the brain seems to be a much more likely explanation for these experiences than God.

These seem to be the main arguments. There are a number of minor ones as well but they mostly seem to have logical flaws like taking their conclusion as an initial assumption.

There are some very compelling arguments against God as well. The main one is Occam's razor - positing the existence of God doesn't actually explain anything (not even the creation of the universe, as God Himself then has the same origin problem). So we can get a theory of the universe that is simpler (and therefore more likely to be correct) by not including God.

Another thing that I found very convincing is the geographic distribution of different religions. People tend to believe the same things as their parents, friends and neighbours. This suggests that religion is passed on from person to person like a meme rather than having any intrinsic truth. Dawkins poses an evolutionary explanation for this strange human behavior - there is an evolutionary advantage to believing what your parents tell you. This behavior started out as a way for advantage-giving wisdom like "don't eat these particular berries" to spread to one's offspring but because historically we had no way of verifying these memes, incorrect but (mostly) harmless memes like "pray to the great invisible being for healthy crops" also sprang up and took advantage of the same mechanism.

A third argument against religion is how contradictory it is. Surely if there was a God and He wanted us all to behave in a particular way, he would have made the bible very coherent and hard to misinterpret. It is none of these things, as we see from the number of people who misinterpret it to forward their own agendas constantly. In fact, religious dogma seems to be particularly effective as a tool for powerful ruling classes to exert control over the general population, which suggests that it evolved to be that way for exactly that purpose.

Atheism vs agnosticism

Saturday, August 23rd, 2008

I used to describe myself as an agnostic, but now I describe myself as an atheist. What changed was not my faith (or lack of it) but what I understood those words to mean.

I used to think that the meanings were as follows:

Atheism: I believe there is no god.
Agnosticism: I neither believe nor disbelieve in God.

But I know think that the following definitions are more accurate:

Atheism: I do not believe that there is a god.
Agnosticism: I have no opinion about the existence or nonexistence of God.

Specifically, I don't think that there is a god but would rather avoid describing myself as having any sort of "belief" one way or the other, because that word carries some implication of "belief without (or despite) evidence". While it's impossible to ever prove with certainty that there is no god (or indeed to prove with certainty anything other than "I think, therefore I am") I think that there is a great deal of evidence that there is no God. I'll take a look at some of this evidence tomorrow.

Apostasy

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

There have been several moments during my life that particularly influenced me towards atheism.

One of these was when I first started learning about science. Scientific explanations seemed to me to be much more satisfying and believable than those of the bible. For a while I thought that this was because the people who originally wrote down the bible were not sophisticated enough to understand the science so it was written down in terms they might be able to understand on some level - that the bible was a simplified version of the truth that we would eventually figure out for ourselves. I had precedents for this concept - I had computer manuals which give strict instructions like "don't remove the floppy disk from the drive while the light is on" but I later discovered that you can remove disks during the time between when the save operation completes and the light goes out (the instruction in the manual was less efficient and less accurate but easier to understand and more difficult to screw up).

The second of these moments was probably when I was told the story of "doubting Thomas". Nobody ever seemed to be able to explain to me exactly why being skeptical was a bad thing (other than the usual "God works in mysterious ways" rubbish that I always found totally unconvincing).

The third was probably when I tried to read the Old Testament. This must have been during secondary school as well. I got as far as the story of the Tower of Babel. In the past when I heard this story it had been presented as a kind of "just so story" about the origins of the different languages. But when I read it for myself I realized that this God was a real dick! Rather than celebrating the great achievements of his creation, he scrambles their language out of fear and jealousy! ("...now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do. Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language..."). At that point I was so disgusted I gave up.

The fourth was at university when (while debating a Christian friend) I came across a site called "Who Gives a Fish" (which now longer seems to exist). This linked to some extremely compelling arguments that all of Christianity is bunk. After reading that (and failing to find the refutations to it that I would expect to find if it were false) I no longer had any desire to be infected with this particular meme.

That I ended up an atheist despite my religious upbringing seems to me to be quite damning evidence against God - surely if there were something to it at least the people who started off religious would stay religious.

I never believed in Jesus

Thursday, August 21st, 2008

I used to think of myself as a Christian, back in primary school and the early part of secondary school. I was brought up in the Church of England. My first primary school was a C of E school, meaning that we had prayers in morning assembly and (one or twice a week) the vicar would come and tell us bible stories. For a while I went to Sunday school every week. I found this very boring and I'm sure I always used to say "It's Sunday - why do I have to go to school?".

In secondary school one day they handed out little red Gideon bibles to everyone in my year. I recall observing with horror when some of my classmates mutilated their copies. I read mine every day for probably the best part of a year. I don't recommend it - the writing style is really rather awful (I eventually gave up because it was so unreadable rather than through lack of faith).

Even amongst all this religious upbringing, I don't think I ever believed that the stories about Jesus and all the other bible stories were ever more than stories. They were just too ridiculous. In fact, I don't think it even occurred to me that there was anyone who ever thought of them as anything other than parables - certainly none of the religious people I knew ever gave me the impression they did. In fact it wasn't until I got to university that it sunk in that there were people who actually believed in the literal truth of the bible! This may seem strange to my American readers as this point of view is quite common here but I suspect it is the exception rather than the rule in England.

Different kinds of truth

Monday, August 11th, 2008

I used to think that the truth was just that - The Truth, singular. That there was just one "Platonic" set of true mathematical facts. I no longer subscribe to this point of view - what's true depends on who you ask.

First there are some basic truths that we have to agree on to have a discussion about anything, like "if A is true, and if A implies B, then B is also true". If we don't accept these basic logical principles as true the consequences are simply that we can't deduce anything, or that we have to accept that everything is true, or that nothing is true. We accept these truths because if we didn't what we get is a rather limited and boring set of mathematics, useless for doing anything interesting (like modelling the real world) with. Those who would deny them can't be disproven, but they can't be reasoned with either. So these truths just have to be admitted as axioms.

Next there are empirical truths like "the sky is blue" and "2+2=4". These can be thought of as facts about the universe we live in. We know they are true because we can see that they are. One could in principle do mathematics without such facts (just using pure logic) but most mathematicians generally accept these truths as well as it makes mathematics more interesting (and definitely more useful).

Sometimes mathematicians envisage mathematical objects which cannot exist in our universe - objects which are infinite in some sense (not necessarily infinitely big - a perfect sphere is infinitely smooth, for example, and the real number line contains infinitely many points). Infinity is a very slippery thing to deal with precisely because infinities are never directly observed in the universe. How can we say anything about infinity then? Well, mathematicians have developed techniques like "epsilon delta" (for every delta you can name, no matter how small, I can name an epsilon with such and such a property). These arguments break down in physics (nothing can be smaller than the Planck length or the concentration of energy required to confine it in that interval would cause a black hole) so they are purely mathematical in nature. Nevertheless they form a consistent and beautiful theory, and they do turn out to be useful for approximating physics, so we accept them.

But when infinities start to get involved, things get very weird - you start to find that there are multiple different versions of mathematics (multiple different sets of "true facts") which are consistent with themselves, consistent with our universe and interesting. Two of these are accepting and denying the "Axiom of Choice" (AC). If we accept the AC it allows us to prove things about infinities without actually constructing or defining them. This has some very weird results (like being able to disassemble a sphere into 5 pieces, move and rotate them and end up with 2 identical spheres of the same size as the original with no gaps). But denying the AC also gives you some weird results (every set can be put into order). Each are just as "true" but give different sets of mathematics. Currently mathematics including the AC is more popular as it seems to provide greater richness of intellectual territory.

As mathematics develops, it seems likely that more of these "interesting" axioms will be discovered (some of which might already have been assumed in some proofs) and that mathematics will fracture into increasng numbers of "branches" depending on which axioms one chooses to accept and which to deny. In fact, Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem says that for any axiomatic system of mathematics there will be "obviously true" statements that can't be proved from these axioms, in other words that the "bulk of mathematics" (though not necessarily the bulk of interesting mathematics) is found at the leaves of this metamathematical tree.

There are other branches of mathematics whose "truth value" is currently unknown to human mathematicians. For example, many theorems have been proven under the assumption that the Riemann hypothesis is true. We think it probably is but nobody has been able to prove it yet. The volume of work which assumes it makes it one of the most important unsolved problems.

Evolution of morality

Sunday, May 11th, 2008

In my university days I would often have philosophical debates with religious friends. One of them once tried to convince that, if there was no God, there would be no reason to "be good" - that the root of morality had to be spiritual in nature.

As reasons for believing in Gods go, that one seems to be a particularly bad one. Most atheists don't go around raping and murdering people.

My friend presented me with a thought experiment. "Suppose you could kill someone you didn't like, in such a way that it would be provably impossible for anyone to find out it was you - would you do it? A Christian wouldn't, because it's against the wish of God, but an atheist would have no such compunction." Well, first of all it's ridiculous to speculate about an impossible hypothetical situation - no matter what form the proof took, it's impossible to be sure that no mistake was made and that you could never be found out, so as far as you can tell there is always an element of risk. Also, my friend was effectively arguing that the only reason he wouldn't kill is because someone (God, if no-one else) would always find out and dole out punishment. Avoiding a potential punishment seems to me to be the least moral reason for avoiding murdering people - the golden rule is a much better one.

My friend could not conceive of how a sense of morality could have arisen in the human race by evolution alone. But after a small amount of though I realized that there are many evolutionary advantages to helping the other members of your community. If you help your community, the community as a whole is strengthened. The other members of this community are likely to share more of your DNA than members of rival communities. So any advantage to your community improves your DNA's chance of surviving and reproducing. Thus, communities with a sense of morality will tend to be favored by the evolutionary process over communities with no sense of morality.

It isn't just individual survival and reproduction that drive evolution - groups of related individuals exhibit all prerequisites for evolution as well (variation in hereditary characteristics producing survival and reproduction advantages) so social behavior can evolve just as well as body shape.

In order to evolve, social behavior does not have to be encoded in DNA. Ideas can (and do) evolve and propagate just as genes do. The human mind provides an environment that is fertile for memes to breed and evolve. This is good, as speeding memetic evolution gives a survival advantage for our species (arguably, it the one thing that has allowed us to be so spectacularly more successful in control and adaptation than any other).

But just as we apparently have some "junk DNA" in our chromosomes which is reproduced faithfully but doesn't actually do anything useful, we may have accumulated some "junk memes" as well. Perhaps these aided our survivability in the past but now serve no useful purpose. I'll leave you to speculate as to what these memes may be.

The Land of Infinite Fun

Saturday, May 10th, 2008

I've only read one of Iain M. Banks's books Excession) so far but hopefully I will get around to reading some more, because the guy has an incredible imagination. One concept in particular has stuck with me:

Technically, it was a branch of metamathematics, usually called metamathics. Metamathics; the investigation of the properties of Realities (more correctly, Reality-fields) intrinsically unknowable by and from our own, but whose general principles could be hazarded at. Metamathics led to everything else, it led to the places that nobody else had ever seen or heard of or previously imagined.

It was like living half your life in a tiny, stuffy, warm grey box, and being moderately happy in there because you knew no better. and then discovering a little hole in one corner of the box, a tiny opening which you could get a finger into, and tease and pull at, so that eventually you created a tear, which led to a greater tear, which led to the box falling apart around you. so that you stepped out of the tiny box's confines into startlingly cool, clear fresh air and found yourself on top of a mountain, surrounded by deep valleys, sighing forests, soaring peaks, glittering lakes, sparkling snowfields and a stunning, breathtakingly blue sky. And that, of course, wasn't even the start of the real story, that was more like the breath that is drawn in before the first syllable of the first word of the first paragraph of the first chapter of the first book of the first volume of the story.

Metamathics led to the Mind equivalent of that experience, repeated a million times, magnified a billion times, and then beyond, to configurations of wonder and bliss even the simplest abstract of which the human-basic brain had no conceivable way of comprehending. It was like a drug; an ultimately liberating, utterly enhancing, unadulterably beneficial, overpoweringly glorious drug for the intellect of machines as far beyond the sagacity of the human mind as they were beyond its understanding. This was the way the Minds spent their time. They imagined entirely new universes with altered physical laws, and played with them, lived in them and tinkered with them, sometimes setting up the conditions for life, sometimes just letting things run to see if it would arise spontaneously, sometimes arranging things so that life was impossible but other kinds and types of bizarrely fabulous complication were enabled.

Some of the universes possessed just one tiny but significant alteration, leading to some subtle twist in the way things worked, while others were so wildly, aberrantly different it could take a perfectly first-rate Mind the human equivalent of years of intense thought even to find the one tenuously familiar strand of recognisable reality that would allow it to translate the rest into comprehensibility. Between those extremes lay an infinitude of universes of unutterable fascination, consummate joy and absolute enlightenment. All that humanity knew and could understand, every single aspect, known, guessed at and hoped for in and of the universe was like a mean and base mud hut compared to the vast, glittering cloud-high palace of monumentally exquisite proportions and prodigious riches that was the metamathical realm. Within the infinities raised to the power of infinities that those metamathical rules provided, the Minds built their immense pleasure-domes of rhapsodic philosophical ecstasy.

That was where they lived. That was their home. When they weren't running ships, meddling with alien civilisations or planning the future course of the Culture itself, the Minds existed in those fantastic virtual realities, sojourning beyondward into the multi-dimensioned geographies of their unleashed imaginations, vanishingly far away from the single limited point that was reality.

The Minds had long ago come up with a proper name for it; they called it the Irreal, but they thought of it as Infinite Fun. That was what they really knew it as. The Land of Infinite Fun.

It did the experience pathetically little justice.

I think that is my idea of heaven - it would be sort of like doing maths with brain orders of magnitude more complex than my own.

No competition

Saturday, May 5th, 2007

I've never really liked competing with others. As a child I would often refuse to play party games even at my own birthday party - I preferred to just sit out and watch instead. I suspect that this is because I actually have a fiercely competitive nature, and don't like the feelings that this nature inspires in me (the feeling that I must be better than others, regardless of their feelings, lest I be marked the "loser".)

For the same reason I've never really liked sports (playing or watching) and I suspect I would do better at work if on being told that I will be ranked against my peers my natural inclination was not to think "well I just won't play that game then - I'll just sit it out and do my own thing".

During one electronics class at school, I was helping one of the other students understand something that he was having trouble with. Another student advised me that I should not help him because we were to be graded on a curve, and helping one student implicitly hurts all the others. I don't want to live in a world where nobody helps anybody else - life isn't a zero sum game.

I think competition is overrated as a motivator for human accomplishment anyway. The great works of art of the world weren't created to prove their creators superior to all the other artists, and I think most of the accomplishments in academia happen in spite of the great competition for funding (and publish or perish rather than because of it.

I also suspect that the software industry could have achieved much more were it not for the duplication of effort caused by having competing companies solving essentially the same problems (particularly because of the exponential increase in complexity caused by having to interoperate). Different ideas should be allowed to compete on their own merits rather than on the merits of the companies that sell them.

Having a free market with competition to provide the best prices/best customer service/least environmental harm seems like a good idea in theory but from the individual customer's point of view, their only power is to take their business elsewhere. So my choice is between the supermarket that's close, the one that treats their employees well, the one that's cheap or the one that has the chocolate muffins I like. And (other than writing a letter that is likely to be ignored) I don't really have a way to tell the other two supermarkets why I'm not choosing them. The system only works on the aggregate level - individual consumers with requirements different from the profitable herd are basically screwed.

What's the answer? I'm not sure. Clearly some forms of competition are necessary (since communism didn't work out so well) and some people do great things precisely because of competitive pressures. But I think I would like to see a shift in policy towards rewarding cooperation and "absolute performance" and away from rewarding "performance relative to competition". Unfortunately that's rather more difficult to set up than a free market - in some disciplines (like computer programming) absolute performance is extremely difficult to measure absolutely (almost any metric you choose can be gamed). Also, if different factors become important (for example if we as a species suddenly decide than environmentalism is important) we all have to agree to change the metrics to take this into account, whereas in a free market we just have to have enough consumers decide "environmentalism is important to me - I will choose the environmentally friendly product even though it is more expensive".

The future of language

Saturday, April 14th, 2007

I think that as global communication improves the language barrier will gradually disappear. This is not to say that there won't be different languages (at least for a good long while), just that everyone will be able to understand each other. Probably a few of the more obscure languages will die out, a few others will be kept deliberately alive although their speakers will have fluency in the "mainstream" languages as well. Some words will disappear, others will migrate between languages. Techniques for teaching language will improve so that the remaining languages will be spoken and understood by everyone. Perhaps eventually these languages will become (effectively) a single language that everyone speaks.

Then we'll make contact with aliens and have a language barrier again just as we've forgotten all our techniques for effectively living with it.