Debugging and reconditioning myself

For years I've whined about the fact that "I don't do what I intend to do." At some point in the day I might decide what I intend to do. Later, I realize that I had an enjoyable, even productive day, but I didn't do what I intended to do.

WTF?

I've come to realize that I spend most of my life in a dream and only realize that I'm in a dream in the moment of waking. It's like sitting in the audience of a good movie, engaged, interested, absorbed and suddenly realizing that you're watching a movie, not living the life on the screen. That moment of realization is the moment of waking.

When I wake up, I appreciate the fact that I'm awake. I might briefly celebrate it. I might try to maintain it or enhance it. But it doesn't last long. All too quickly I go back into the dream and the pattern of my life.

Most of my day is spent on automatic, carried out by what I've called my "conditioned self" or "auto-Mike."

Auto-Mike is pretty awesome. Most people would be very happy to be that good and so am I. But I want more.

Fortunately, part of my conditioning includes conditioned self-improvement. So without waking up, without breaking my conditioning, I continue to improve. But there are limitations. I can't make changes that my adaptive conditioning does not know how to make.

I have a good life but I don't just want to have a good life. I want to have a good life doing what I intend to do.

I thought that "waking up" would be the answer. I've been working on it. I've been trying to stay awake more often and for longer periods. That's been beneficial, but it hasn't brought about the change that I want.

I realize I need to do something else.

I've tried meditating, but I'm not able to do it consistently.

I've thought of joining a meditation community, but I'm not able to break my conditioning enough to actually do that.

Yesterday I found something that may be part of the solution: the idea of "debugging" from CFAR. CFAR is the "Center for Applied Rationality." Here's what sent me off in that direction.

So the concept of ‘bugs’ is really useful: once you’ve labelled something a bug, it is now in the category of ‘problems that I can practice solving to get better at life’. 

That led me to read more at the CFAR site. Which lead me to this, and back to LessWrong, where I found the "unofficial CFAR canon." And back to a bunch of CFAR videos.

Among them, I found this video:


What he said made a lot of sense. I write, and write, and write, and never give myself the kind of enthusiastic reinforcement that he recommends.

What he's doing is conditioning himself. And I realized that I need to recondition myself.

So I did. I went to a different place to write, worked hard at debugging myself, changing my behavior and rewards, and managed to get six posts written--and posted.

Repeat: and posted. That's a month of typical work. And I felt great!

I've been thinking more about reconditioning myself. I not only need to debug myself, but do a fairly substantial overhaul: reconditioning.

Since I spend so little time awake, most of my reconditioning will have to be meta-reconditioning. I have to develop some automatic routines that modify my self-correcting conditioning so that it modifies the automatic processes that aren't what I intend.

Wow!

Tonight I found something else that I think might help:


I listened to most of it at 2x speed, to get the gist of his argument. Then when he actually shows how his mind hack works, I played it at normal speed.

Here's a shorter version of the meditation.

So tomorrow I take the next step.

Not good enough to destroy the planet

I remember reading this years ago in Michael Crichton’s “Jurrasic Park.”

It’s a good thing to bear in mind when people talk about Climate Change or some other human behavior destroying the planet. I’m not saying it’s not a problem. 

I'm saying that the idea that we are capable of “destroying the planet” is, as Chriton says “intoxicating vanity.”

We’re not capable of destroying the planet. Even if we wanted to. We’re just not that good.

Quoted at GoodReads, here

You think man can destroy the planet? What intoxicating vanity. Let me tell you about our planet.

Earth is four-and-a-half-billion-years-old. There’s been life on it for nearly that long, 3.8 billion years. Bacteria first; later the first multicellular life, then the first complex creatures in the sea, on the land. Then finally the great sweeping ages of animals, the amphibians, the dinosaurs, at last the mammals, each one enduring millions on millions of years, great dynasties of creatures rising, flourishing, dying away — all this against a background of continuous and violent upheaval.

Mountain ranges thrust up, eroded away, cometary impacts, volcano eruptions, oceans rising and falling, whole continents moving, an endless, constant, violent change, colliding, buckling to make mountains over millions of years.

Earth has survived everything in its time.
It will certainly survive us.

If all the nuclear weapons in the world went off at once and all the plants, all the animals died and the earth was sizzling hot for a hundred thousand years, life would survive, somewhere: under the soil, frozen in Arctic ice. Sooner or later, when the planet was no longer inhospitable, life would spread again. The evolutionary process would begin again. It might take a few billion years for life to regain its present variety.

Of course, it would be very different from what it is now, but the earth would survive our folly, only we would not. If the ozone layer gets thinner, ultraviolet radiation sears the earth, so what? Ultraviolet radiation is good for life. It’s powerful energy. It promotes mutation, change. Many forms of life will thrive with more UV radiation. Many others will die out.

Do you think this is the first time that’s happened?

Think about oxygen. Necessary for life now, but oxygen is actually a metabolic poison, a corrosive glass, like fluorine. When oxygen was first produced as a waste product by certain plant cells some three billion years ago, it created a crisis for all other life on earth. Those plants were polluting the environment, exhaling a lethal gas. Earth eventually had an atmosphere incompatible with life.

Nevertheless, life on earth took care of itself. In the thinking of the human being a hundred years is a long time. A hundred years ago we didn’t have cars, airplanes, computers or vaccines. It was a whole different world, but to the earth, a hundred years is nothing. A million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. We can’t imagine its slow and powerful rhythms, and we haven’t got the humility to try. We’ve been residents here for the blink of an eye. If we’re gone tomorrow, the earth will not miss us.

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Egg Bot

I found this recipe for Easter Eggs at Modernist Cuisine. The eggs were decorated with an Egg Bot.

EggBot? Really. Yes. Here. And you can buy a kit here and here.

The egg

Andy Weir, author of "The Martian" wrote a story called "The Egg."

It's a good story, worth reading.

The purpose of life, the universe, and everything

We know that “the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything” has an answer.

It’s 42.

Wikipedia says so.

But is there a purpose to life, the universe, and everything?

If so, what is it? 

1.

What’s a purpose?

Oxford Dictionaries defines purpose this way: “the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.”

On that definition, the purpose of a slot-headed screwdriver is to drive slot-headed screws. I’ve got slot-headed screwdrivers and can personally attest to having used them for precisely that purpose. My experience matches the theory.

But I’ve also used my screwdrivers for other purposes. I’ve used them to open paint cans (even though there are tools made for that specific purpose.) And more than once, I’ve used a screwdriver for the purpose for which wood chisels were invented.

Purposes are not fixed. We even have the word “repurpose” to describe everyday situations in which something is used for a new purpose.

And purpose is not singular. An object can have many purposes, depending on the situation and need.

So I’ll extend the Oxford definition of purpose to reflect reality and say: Purpose: the reason or reasons for which something is done or created or for which something exists or is used.

2.

Does the leaf of an oak tree have a purpose? Many would say yes. It exists to produce the carbohydrates that a tree needs to live and to grow. That seems obvious.

Does the chlorophyll in an oak leaf have a purpose? Many would say yes. It exists to catalyze photosynthesis. That also seems obvious.

Does the trunk of an oak tree have a purpose? Many would say yes. It exists to provide support for the branches, which in turn support the leaves. That seems obvious, as well.

Does an acorn have a purpose? Many would say yes. It exists to grow a new oak tree. No acorn, no new oak. And to a squirrel, its purpose is food.

Does an oak have a purpose? If it’s part of a managed forest, its purpose would be to produce lumber. But what if the oak tree is off in the wild, never to be seen by humans. What’s its purpose then? To produce acorns?

So it seems that the purpose of a thing depends on the system in which it exists. The purpose of a leaf seems evident because it’s part of a system called a tree. Likewise, the purpose of chlorophyll, or a tree trunk. An acorn is part of a system that produces oak trees, which produce acorns, which produce oak trees. The reasoning is circular, but so is the system.

Some would say that the purpose of any living thing is to survive, grow, and reproduce.

Then what’s the purpose of that rock next to that oak tree? To erode? To take up space?

If we don’t know what system it’s part of, it’s hard to determine its purpose.

3.

If I came on an object and didn’t know its purpose (or purposes), I’d determine them this way.

I’d observe it and see if it did something on its own. If it created some discernable and consistent effect, then I’d infer that creating that effect was one of its purposes.

If I could see how people interacted with it, I’d observe what they did with it. From that (and possibly asking them questions with them), I could learn about their purposes for it.

I might try to use that object to achieve some goal of my own. I might use it in the same way as others did, or in unique ways. If I used it, I’d count the purpose to which I applied it to be among its purposes. I might use it for several different purposes. Each would be valid.

If I could find the maker of that object, I might ask the maker for the purpose that impelled the object’s creation. That purpose would hold no privileged position to me. The purpose for which it was made would be just one of its purposes. If I could not find the object’s maker, I’d make do with the other purposes that I’d found.

4.

So what’s the purpose of life, the universe, and everything?

I like to start with what I know for sure—and that is that I am conscious. As I have said, that’s the only thing that I can know with certainty. And it’s important enough that I felt obligated to write another post to justify it.

I know that all phenomena extend from me as an observer. Wherever I go, there I am. Whatever I perceive, I’m right in the middle of.

So to me, one purpose of the universe is this: it’s something I can be conscious of. The universe might be an illusion, but it’s an illusion of which I can be conscious.

Alternatively, a purpose of the universe is: so I can exist. No universe, no me.

There’s an interesting story that explains how the universe caused me to exist. The universe started 13.77 billion years ago. It cooled, and hydrogen and some helium atoms appeared. Eventually, some atoms collected into Population I stars. Then some of those stars exploded, producing atoms of the other natural elements. The atoms that pre-existed and the atoms that resulted from the explosions collected into Population II stars (like our sun) and planets (like Earth). Then, on at least one planet, about 4 billion years ago, life appeared. And then around 74 years ago, I appeared.

This could be just part of an elaborate illusion, and the universe could have sprung into existence just now. Or an hour ago.

You exist, too, I presume. But maybe not exactly. So another purpose of the universe is to create you.

5.

I could extend the universe’s list of purposes by listing everything in the universe and asserting that causing that thing to come into being was one of the universe’s purposes. But I can make the mechanism more general and more useful.

The way that the universe caused me (and you, if you exist) to exist is simple: it collected, organized, transformed, and conveyed information. It did it until life appeared.

Then life continued to do it until consciousness appeared.

Then conscious life continued to do it until I appeared.

Then I continued to do it until I wrote this.

That’s the generalized purpose of life, the universe, and everything: it collects, organizes, transforms, and conveys information.

Information means: “what is conveyed or represented by a particular arrangement or sequence of things.”

The arrangement of base pairs in DNA conveys and represents information. So does the arrangement of rock strata in the Grand Canyon. So does the arrangement of stars in a galaxy or galaxies in a supercluster.

The universe, on its own, through natural processes and initially without interference by living things, collects information, organizes it, transforms it, and conveys it. It keeps doing that until life appears.

Once life has appeared, it accelerates the process until thinking things appear. And that accelerates the process further.

Right now, by writing this, I am helping the universe carry out this purpose. Over time I have collected information (and I am collecting additional bits as I write this). I am organizing that information in the form of this essay. And I hope to convey it to you, a reader. And since you are reading this, I’ve succeeded.

If you find it worthwhile, you will add it to your own knowledge collection, and if you organize it and convey it further, you’ll be helping carry out the purpose of life, the universe, and everything.

Meanwhile, I’m posting this. Because it’s my purpose to do so. The universe created me so that I could do that.

That’s my purpose.

And I’m posting it on purpose.

Update 23 October 2020

Thank you for writing this, Past Me.

Also thanks for the link to “The Egg.“ which almost was lost in my edit.

Click here to subscribe to 70 Years Old. WTF! by Email

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The only thing I can be certain of

If I'm going to write more stuff it made sense to start with "The purpose of life, the universe and everything" and fit the rest of the world into that. Doesn't it? Made sense to me.

As I was writing the blog post "The purpose of life, the universe and everything" I realized that the answer to such an important question should be based on what I knew with certainty, and not on commonly held assumptions or theories or illusions.

There's only one thing of which I can be certain, so I made that the basis for my argument.

Then, after <embarrassing number of> minutes spent searching for an earlier post that I thought I had written on the subject, I decided I might not have written what I thought I'd written. It might have been another illusion.

So I wrote this.

And then I spent <embarrassing number of> minutes of my existence trying to decide whether to incorporate this into "The purpose of life, the universe, and everything" or making it a separate post, I decided to solve it with "Coin Flip" as I recommended to myself, here.

I did, in fact, write about the things that I learned from reading Sam Harris' book Waking Up. But I seem to have failed to write one of the most important points. So here's my do-over.

1. If you examine something carefully and it changes into something different, then what you started to examine was an illusion.
2. We know that the human perception system is subject to all kinds of illusions.
3. We know that the way we perceive reality is based on a set of illusions. Each of our eyes gets a slightly different 2D image and our brain combines them to tell us that there is a 3D world "our there." There may be such a world, but we don't perceive it. Instead, we see an illusion created by our eyes and nervous system.
4. The ONLY thing that can't be an illusion is my in-the-moment experience of my own consciousness. If I'm not conscious, right now, then there's nothing there to be tricked into experiencing conscious.
5. Anything else CAN be an illusion. In another post I argue that it MUST be.

Some other observations:

1. Most of the things that I do, I do automatically, without being conscious of doing them or having intended to do them. I say that they are done by my "conditioned self."
2. My experience of "waking up" is the sudden transition to being "conscious of being conscious." But what was the earlier state? Conscious, but unconscious of being conscious? Unconscious? I don't know. I can only be sure of "conscious of being conscious" and only when I am in that state.
3. My memories of having been more or less conscious at other times could all be illusions 
4. The only thing I can be certain of is my present consciousness. Assuming that I am conscious.
5. The "self," the "thing" that I perceive as being conscious could be an illusion. The BIG IDEA from Harris was this: after experiencing "waking up" see what I feel is now awake, and see whether it might also be an illusion.
6. My experience: every time I carry out that last step, looking inward to "the thing that is conscious" I discover myself looking outward, at the world around me.

All that seems to have required me to write this, so that I can post this.

Good enough for an audience of one

I'd like to be like Scott Alexander. He's one of my personal heroes. He writes long, thoughtful, meticulously researched posts at his blog SlateStarCodex. But as near as I can tell, I'm not.

There are a lot of other writers who I admire, and who I sometimes wish to be. But near as I can tell, I'm not any of them.

(But if Andy Weir, author of "The Maritan" is right, in this story, I might be all of them. Wouldn't that be cool?)

But being me is not a bad thing to be. It's actually pretty good. But it's sometimes frustrating.

When a friend writes me an email that prompts a response I'll drop everything and spend a large block of time researching, thinking, and writing a long, meticulously worded reply. Not up to the standard of one of Scott's posts. But not total crap.

Why don't I post them?

I just asked myself that question, and here's what I told myself:

"Good enough for an email back, but not good enough to post."

For who? I have no audience. I'm just an ordinary guy who likes to write and tries to figure out the kinds of things that ordinary guys try to figure out, like The purpose of life, the universe, and everything.

Which was also not good enough to post until I wrote "The only thing that I can be certain of."

Which was also not good enough to post, so had to write this and figure out how to give myself permission to post it.

For who?

The answer has to be: I need to post for me. Only me. Period.

As of right now, the standard for what goes on this blog is being revised. Down. Dramatically down.

I'd rather post more stuff with lower quality.

I'd rather long, thoughtful, meticulously researched posts than anything else. But I'd rather post more than less.

Writing is the way that I get thinking done.

Writing makes me happy.

Having determined what I believe The purpose of life, the universe, and everything to be, my personal contribution to that purpose is writing and posting

So, time to post.