Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

Blog Review: Formulalessness, 2019 - 2023

I have often written things in a sort of diaristic way, not knowing how they would appear to me until I finished and re-read them for the first time. This blog has been a diary of my thinking. I feel as though I've been approaching the end, or an end, of my blog (for instance, not writing too much since fall of 2022). So, I've been engaging in behaviors of summarizing and wrapping up, and included in that, I've been re-reading my blog.

I re-read the whole thing up to the present post, except I didn't finish reading the Feeling of Value notes (1, 2), because simply to read them was too philosophical for me, and as I've mentioned, I'm trying to abstain from philosophy until October 2024. (Reading notes requires trying to figure out what I was saying, and trying to evaluate what I was saying turns into philosophy, according to me.)

Certain things stood out as things to come back to someday. Maybe re-reading the Feeling of Value notes and the Lukas Gloor sequence on moral anti-realism, plus other sources, to do a better job of talking about moral realism / anti-realism. Also, maybe writing a clearer presentation of the arguments implicit in my review of X-Risk by Thomas Moynihan. Occasionally, people find my blog through the Feeling of Value and X-Risk reviews, and what I have to offer isn't too user-friendly.

Generally, I could go back and try to improve past posts, and maybe make a few books out of them. Perhaps one for effective altruists.

Another thought is to use my wiki [January 2024: which I took down] as a place to write clearer versions of many of these posts, or to break down their ideas and recombine them in different ways that suit the subject matter better than my sometimes arbitrary lumpings of them. Then I could make a book or books based on the wiki.

There were times my present self (reviewing the blog) wished my past self had been clearer, argued better, or wrote more fleshed-out posts. I suppose that if I were a professional writer, I might have evaluated myself sooner than after four years as I'm doing now. I got into writing this blog just to put my notes online (at least, that's mainly what I did), and once the habit got going, I guess I didn't question what the product would be.

What niche does the blog fill? I would say that if you are a Christian interested in futurism, it takes you a certain way into the topic of Christianity-and-futurism. If you are a futurist, it shows a vision of a particular kind of theistic/Christian input into how the future should go. I don't know what my actual readers get out of it -- maybe something else. Blogs often are really all about their themes, their vibe, and a few of their memorable ideas. I do think that this blog has a vibe to it, and that's an undercurrent of it, that there's a spiritual world that connects to our everyday experience, and a spirit that breathes through us, which is imaged by the writing. Some themes of this blog are openmindedness, trust, truth, reason, and ethical theism (not a complete list).

If I'm thinking hopefully, I think this blog communicates a unique vision of how to be a Christian, or a Christian-like theist, a new religion or set of religions that helps deal with the divisions (progressive/conservative, secular/religious, perhaps Christian/non-Christian) and lack of motivation that keep people from God, and keep society locked into conflict and ineffectiveness.

Writing the blog served me. I started the blog (in early 2019) because it felt like time to write a blog. The fact that I had been reading Slate Star Codex since fall of 2016 was in the background of that decision. In early 2019, I was experiencing a mental breakdown (which lasted about three years at full strength and then diminishing to now), which largely was caused by others' indifference and hostility, lack of support and poisonous support. Having something to focus on other than the memories of the people who caused the mental breakdown, and the thoughts of despair they put in me, was helpful and gave me a direction forward.

Reviewing the blog from start to finish eventually started resembling, to me, reading any number of my diaristic works from 2015 - 2018 (most of the books found here). Those books emerged from me as a flow of writing, expressing something subtextual through their wholes. I think the same could be said of this blog, although to me at least the subtextual note is fainter. Both those old books and this blog have an aesthetic of "formulalessness".

Friday, July 28, 2023

Long Links #3

On my subreddit I put up links to individual videos, websites, or blog posts, etc. Any of these things can be "consumed" (paid attention to) in one sitting (generally speaking). Those are "short links". But "long links" take (or take me) more than one sitting and to me seem to not belong in the same context as short links.

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Recently (in the last 6 months) I watched the following movies (among others):

My Name is Sarah (a woman finds community and romantic love in an Alcoholics Anonymous group even though she doesn't drink)

The Book Shop (a woman opens a book store in small-town coastal England, has to deal with enemies)

Detroit Unleaded (Two Arab-Americans in the Detroit area -- a young man, who works in a gas station convenience store, and a young woman, who comes from a rich family -- meet and fall in love)

Nowadays, I watch movies to pass the time, not to explore the world of human experience or rewire my brain (more what I was going for when I was in my 20s). I think these movies are not great movies in the way that Citizen Kane, Last Year at Marienbad, Stalker, or Testament are great. But if I wanted to rewatch those great movies, I could, and I could probably find more like them. Nothing really prevents me. But I actually prefer to watch these unassuming movies.

Actually, I think that there is more going on under the surface in these movies that I don't catch because I don't process audiovisual information quickly enough. Films do a lot of hinting because they don't have time to flesh out everything they're trying to portray, and subtle things like that go over my head, although I can see the hints happening and say to myself "they're trying to say something". The films, being unassuming, don't strike my brain hard to make it notice. Perhaps I would understand their ideas better if I rewatched them. I'm not sure I would want to rewatch them, but I could imagine myself doing so if I owned them on DVD and had a hard time getting new media. (Like kids back in the day watching the same VHSes.)

I think it's exactly the fact that these movies don't strike my brain that hard, or engage in too-strong of visceral engagement, that makes me open to them and like watching them enough to finish them.

I do think that despite that I find them "just to be a way to pass the time", on one level I think even then they do important cultural work by expressing an aesthetic. People can find each other through aesthetics and are encouraged to continue in their personal vibes/aesthetics/sarkars by the bits of time they can spend watching films congenial to them.

These movies are small, quiet, and unassuming. (Not necessarily that the characters or their experiences are, but more that the films themselves don't assert themselves the way that "hard-hitting", "exciting", "sexy", "weighty", "important" movies do.) Although it would not be small, quiet, and unassuming of them, what if those three vibes became greater, or dared to try harder and do bigger things, without losing their roots? I think people carried along by those vibes might be good at doing things that other people are not.

(I think that that last paragraph connects to my own writing a lot. To take one example, I think my book Letters to People who Care would fit in to that same set of vibes.)

(Maybe someone who knows more about movies could list some unassuming movies that do something great.)

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I watched two video essays by biz barclay.. One of them on the binding of Isaac, God is Not Dead, and Midnight Mass, the other on the phenomenon of Snapewives.

The Snapewives one presents the question "what is religion?" and shows a particular new religion. I think its value for me was in showing my own relationship with God in an alien light. The Snapewives' relationships with Snape (their god) sound similar but different from my relationship with God, at least insofar as they hear from Snape and have some degree of devotion to him. The "varieties of religious experience" are profuse and it can seem as though we should give up the search for the real God, since it looks like there's a separate version for each group of people, made in the image of what would serve them. Can I really believe that I am in touch with a person, who is God, rather than am under some kind of force that produces religious experiences of whatever form suit my mind?

I can recommend the other video more highly, especially if, like me, you are someone who is modernist-leaning (i.e. not postmodernist), in favor of being active, in favor of listening to God's voice (an evangelical in some sense of the word?), because it presents the binding of Isaac, a story which in itself shows those pursuits to be dangerous. (The Bible sets dangerous precedents. Also (a la Kierkegaard?) the Bible at least in this story frustrates logical ethical thought processing (even though overall it supports it). "Formulalessness", perhaps.)

Modernism/activist religion is dangerous. Postmodernism is also dangerous (the inability to be excellent, the inability to do what needs to be done, to coordinate cultural activity, the danger of settling for socially-convenient shared values rather than asking about the possibility of causing harm not currently part of consensus reality, such as harming God, or harming humans in ways the social consensus doesn't recognize.) Is there a counterpoint to the binding of Isaac that shows the dangers of postmodernism or other anti-activity philosophies/cultural drifts? Perhaps the rest of the Old Testament, as a whole, is about that. A counterpart to this video could be one about the call of Abraham (in Genesis 12 and renewed later in Genesis), and the need for society to have crazy (literally mentally ill like we might diagnose Abraham), outsider antagonists to the social order to drive moral progress forward.

Both videos are 3 hours long. I think the video essay format, especially the longer the essays get, lends itself to imparting energy to the viewer and giving them time to think about things. As mentioned above, I don't process audiovisual things the best, so I would latch on to some ideas as they were repeated throughout the video, and then think about them for myself. Maybe part of the comparative advantage of video essays is in this energetic transfer and stewing tendency.

(If you combine the two videos, you get the question "how can you know that God (a specific God) is talking such that you should trust and/or obey the voice you hear?")

Consensus Reality and Psychological Warfare

This is an essay.

Atheists, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and other people in a society (for instance, Western society) disagree about many things. But some things, they all (or seemingly all) agree on. There is a span of life between birth and "physical death" (the last breath in the bodies we currently have) which all of them acknowledge. In that span, there is the need for food, shelter, clothing, transportation and so on. Food, shelter, clothing, and transportation exist and we have to deal with them -- even enlightened people have to get on the bus if they want to ride it. In Western society, there are schools to go to and for most, jobs to work. There are bureaucracies to deal with. This is all real. This (and similar things) make up consensus reality.

(I thought about putting "science" in that list, but there are "science-deniers" who would not deny the existence of the above. Science is widely favored, but it's not quite literally consensus reality. Maybe we could say that it is near-consensus reality?)

The rest of reality is controversial. Is there such a thing as material substance (or something effectively like that) as atheists often believe? Idealists dispute that. Each of the Gods (or sets of Gods) of the theistic religions is different. Christianity insists on Jesus (God and human in one) as the only way to God, the Father, while Islam insists that you can't associate anyone with God -- perhaps this is a controversy. Hinduism says everything is one thing, while Buddhism sort of says it's all nothing -- perhaps another controversy. Many of us seem to like morality and think it should have binding force on us -- so it would be weird if we thought it didn't exist -- but Nietzscheans officially don't like morality, and moral anti-realists think that it doesn't exist. Academic philosophy has people arguing on different sides of different questions.

It is convenient for us to center our thinking on consensus reality. We can argue about all of those controversial things all day and not persuade each other (that's what it means for them to be controversial). So we think that the solid, real, good truth is consensus reality.

How likely is it that consensus reality exhausts all of what's real and what matters? At first glance, it sounds like that's not very likely. Why should it be the case that all of the things we agree on are real, and none of the things we don't agree on are real? It's probably a good sign if we all agree on something, but I wouldn't trust that completely. Maybe we could all agree on some moral value that was actually invalid, just because that's what made society run smoothly.

Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism all posit the existence of spirits other than humans. Spirits might be able to affect the minds of people. (Have you ever seen a spirit come over someone, or experienced that yourself?) Spirits might not be all on the same side. Humans disagree and form blocs that want to defeat each other. It doesn't seem unlikely that spirits would do the same.

How would spirits fight? Partly by psychological warfare, trying to convince us of different random things. If they can win us over, we will do their bidding. Or our trust might be the prize in itself. The profusion of non-consensus reality beliefs is something that would make sense if there are different blocs of spirits trying to control our minds with the beliefs that they favor. The difficulty of us being certain about "spiritual" (ethical, metaphysical, religious, etc.) things being in part the result of the damage done by warring beings on the noetic equipment of our minds.

Sometimes I have told non-Christians that I believe in God because of meaning. I can remember two different people who heard that having a knee-jerk "that doesn't work" kind of reaction. They did not say "huh, that's interesting" -- a more philosophical response. They did not seem open to hearing my argument. The people (those two and four others) I can remember talking to about my theories of or interest in proving the existence of God did not react in a philosophical way, nor did they seem eager to explore to see if I was right. One of them even implied that proving the existence of God was impossible (but he would say things he didn't really believe in order to put ideas in my head, I later realized.)

This, in itself, is interesting. Why were they so reactive against the idea of the proof of the existence of God, or a particular way to prove it? Why weren't they interested in learning more? Why isn't this like any other topic where one might think about what is?

I can say that the effect of their reactions to me has got me really questioning my own beliefs sometimes. Sometimes I believe and move forward, other times I don't. After a few of these strange reactions, it breaks down my (sometimes fragile) natural sense of what's true. I can use my intellectual discipline to believe what I do, but my brain is always traumatized by the strange reactions -- I don't want to say they are literally "gaslighting" since I don't want to (always) impute manipulative intent, but what's going on is very much like gaslighting. That trauma makes me "not really believe", doubt my intellectual vision.

Why do the other people traumatize me? They have been through the same thing as me, perhaps, traumatized by other people. So they refuse to listen to me, not trusting me. They believe what they do in a fragile way, and now that they don't know what to believe, they rigidly shut out competitors to what they already believe.

It could also be that we want to believe things -- that beliefs about religion, God, and the lack of religious truth or the non-existence of God, are precious things. They are so foundational that we build our lives around them, and to change your foundations threatens self-destruction. We keep ourselves alive through our inner beliefs.

It may be as frightening to be offered a way to believe in something that you dearly wish to be true, as to be offered a disproof of it.

I probably made the mistake of talking to people who were as old or older than me. Older people lose the ability to really think and question, and instead operate as machines, stable and strong, which just do whatever they were programmed to do while growing up. People can resist this tendency, and it's not universal, but I can feel it in me now. To really question whether God exists requires research -- too much for most mature adults. Immature people have a chance at coming to know what is true. You have to have that immature spirit of adventure in you in order to keep your mind oriented toward knowing what is, rather than becoming aggressively or sadly dogmatic.

Perhaps I misunderstand maturity, and many mature people misunderstand it. It is virtuous to become more mature, not inevitable. It may (seemingly) be inevitable for the young to struggle against the many voices that try to control their minds, and their own inner instability, to try to reach a kind of promised land of being functional in society, stable and secure in mind, patient and emotionally self-regulating. But if this is the "inevitable maturity", the virtuous process of maturity requires that people who (more or less) attain "inevitable maturity" push on to the next stage, which requires them to recover the adventure needed to be in touch with reality.

Where do spirits come in? Spirits can engineer and disseminate new ideas. Time after time, intellectuals, artists, inventors, and so on receive brilliant ideas in "flashes of inspiration". They don't know where they come from. Well, if they don't know where it comes from, it's probably not from them. Where else can it come from? If we insist on materialism, it must come from the "unconscious self". But I don't see why we should insist on materialism -- at best it's one of multiple live options for how the world could work. In any of the others (I'm thinking of dualism and idealism), where spirits are possible, the most natural explanation is that spirits implant these brilliant ideas in these creative people.

I see spirits at play in some of the strange reactions I have to things. I feel like I'm, for better or worse, sick with the same mental sickness as "everyone else" (Western non-Christians). I hear God's voice and see his purpose in my life. But then, sometimes, I read someone saying "humans are really good at seeing patterns in things, humans make meaning". And then that's all I can see in my purported "hearing God's voice".

Why does this seem instantaneously and devastatingly true? Rationally speaking, it's no more weighty than pointing out that sometimes people (seemingly) falsify their own memories. The faculty of memory is not perfect. But I don't think "Oh no! None of my memories are valid!" So the faculty of "finding patterns" is imperfect. But sometimes it shows us things that really are there. Why am I so quick to distrust one faculty and not another? (Actually, now that I write that out, I don't see why I should distrust my instincts of pattern finding, bearing in mind that they are imperfect.)

People say "humans make meaning" in a certain way that implies something. And I fall for it. Why do I fall for it? Is it because I "know", deep down, that it's true? Or is it that I'm under the power of the same spirit as them? Why do they fall for it? I think neither they nor I are being rational. If we were we would see that pattern finding ("meaning making") is something that is basically reliable but with exceptions. Maybe pattern finding when we want something to be true or when the stakes are personal is less reliable? But it could be valid. If you really want someone to be romantically interested in you, it's possible to accurately perceive that they are. But when the implying and the subtext are ruling, I can't even consider that. So there's something fishy going on.

If people are being irrational, or in other words if they are making decisions based on subtext, psychological powers that live in the darkness of intuition, then that world of intuition is a black box. Spirits could take natural intuitions and feed them to produce "reasoning" that the spirits like. Or they could implant entirely new ones.

Does this sound paranoid or crazy? Why does belief in spirits or spirit conspiracies sound paranoid or crazy? Is it weird to think spirits might exist? Not under dualism or idealism. If they do exist, is it weird to think they would behave in concerted ways -- conspiracies? No, because that's how humans sometimes act. It's possible for thoughts of concerted intelligent action to mislead us or make us behave or feel badly. But reality exists regardless of whether we manage to safely believe the truths that correspond to it. Can we approach spiritual warfare in a philosophical way, rather than with heuristics that reject possibilities a priori due to a stigma (nor with spirits possessing us in the very contemplation of those spirits' conspiracies)?

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Whether through natural psychological mechanisms (traumatization and trying to maintain a coherent worldview) or direct spiritual manipulation, the psychological environment for coming to believe the truth about ultimate reality is not ideal. So we have to pay extra attention to what goes on, have more focus, keep our heads together, and have more courage, so that we can come to know the ultimate truth.

Tuesday, September 27, 2022

Turn Toward Politics

What are the most pressing problems in the world? Where should those looking to do the most good go? One obvious problem is X-risk. The most urgent X-risk, I suppose, is insufficiently-aligned ASI.

In the world where ASI kills us all, that's that. In the world where it doesn't, though, what then? Does it not kill us because it obeys some human or group of humans? Or is it because it values our well-being, having been programmed to do so? (Maybe then it's a "benevolent dictator"?) Or could it have been programmed with a respect for us, maybe such that it is a minimalist world government protecting our agency. Maybe it wants us to figure out the Long Reflection, and, since morality for some reason has something to do with human instincts, defers to us to define what is of value.

If ASI has enough "respect" for us and our decision-making abilities, or is programmed explicitly to obey certain persons or groups, then humans may or will in some sense still be masters of the ASI, no matter how much smarter it is than us.

So what might happen in the future, is that the bottlenecks to altruism on a high level will no longer be in the economic-technological world, but instead will be in coming up with political will to unify people to make important decisions (or to not be in a state of conflict with each other -- "cold" conflict if outright war is suppressed by the ASI), and also to manage the danger of bad unities (totalitarianism, for instance). ASI can provide arbitrary amounts of economic and technological development (perhaps), but can't do anything about the human political order, by its own (self-)limitation.

So those who want to do good (whether secular or religious), who have a personal fit for the political world (and adjacent areas like religion, art, and whatever else goes into "culture"), or who simply can't help in much of a direct way with whatever other things might seem more urgent as of 2022 (AI alignment, other X-risk aversion, etc.) -- they could turn toward politics (and areas adjacent to it).

Monday, August 22, 2022

Reading List Preview: The Long Reflection

See also the postview of this reading list.

I want to think more about the Long Reflection. As I understand it, it is a search for the truth about moral values, a long process of reflective reason that seeks some kind of coordinating value set for our species as a whole.

So I want to do some readings, related to this. These readings have been chosen somewhat unsystematically. Given my resources at this time, this project will have to be provisional.

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Here are the things I want to read or re-read:

The parts of The Precipice (by Toby Ord) that refer to the Long Reflection. This gives a basic definition of the Long Reflection. [My copy is the hard-bound / ISBN 978-1-5266-0021-9]

I decided that the discussion in The Precipice of the Long Reflection, which is brief, belongs in this preview, because it helps validate whether my concept of what the Long Reflection is (in the sense of a basic definition of the phrase) is in line with Ord's, which I'll take as either "the established view" on the Long Reflection or "likely enough basically the established view". Michael Aird, in a reading list on the EA Forum doesn't list a lot of other sources. Looking at the "long reflection" tag,
I see that I have read all the other articles (few in number) that are in the category (as of 22 August 2022) except Gloor's and Vinding's, and I just read the short one about Robin Hanson's views on the Long Reflection. I have listened to a majority of the podcast episodes on Aird's list, and my sieve-like memory can't support me saying the guests never saying anything to the contrary, but I feel like if they radically disagreed, I might remember that. (Similarly with the articles I read.) [I see in Hanson's post a link to another critical article on the Long Reflection by Felix Stocker. I may include Hanson and Stocker in this reading list, as well as Vinding, and maybe Gloor if I have time. Also through the EA Forum tag page, I see this post by Paul Christiano. There may be other articles not directly accessible from the EA Forum, but for a provisional post like this, I think I have done enough research. // The Precipice notes are in blockquotes.

A list of blog posts and EA Forum posts about normative uncertainty, the future of ethics, and moral progress:

Cold Takes (Holden Karnofsky): Defending One-Dimensional Ethics, Futureproof Ethics.

How moral progress happens: the decline of footbinding as a case study - EA Forum post by rosehadshar.

What does moral progress consist of? - EA Forum post by jasoncrawford.

Thinking Complete (Richard Ngo): Making decisions using multiple worldviews, Which values are stable under ontology shifts?

Teaching Children to Care (Ruth Sidney Charney): Where does morality come from? Maybe from teaching children to care as part of managing classroom behavior.

On the Genealogy of Morality (Friedrich Nietzsche): Where does morality come from? (Whatever Nietzsche says.)

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Here are some preliminary thoughts that I have about the Long Reflection.

Some problems I see with the Long Reflection:

I have supposed that it is a search for something that can coordinate action as a society. That means that it must be some way for all / most of us to come to the same views. I see two ways to do this. One is to find the "epistemic answer" (good reasoning) which will convince everyone / most people of the truth. The other is for everyone to agree on a pragmatic society-wide behavior, despite the fact that people disagree.

Is it really the search for something that can coordinate action as a society? Ord says (p. 191 / ch. 7 "Grand Strategy for Humanity" section): --If we achieve existential security, we will have room to breathe. With humanity's longterm potential secured, we will be past the Precipice, free to contemplate the range of futures that lie open before us. And we will be able to take our time to reflect on what we truly desire; upon which of these visions for humanity would be the best realisation of our potential. We shall call this the Long Reflection--

Who is "we"? "We" is a plural word which means that there is some kind of collective thinking to produce collective action. I guess from this Ord might not think that we all have to be part of the same collective, but he might.

Later, same page, continuing to p. 192: --The ultimate aim of the Long Reflection would be to achieve a final answer to the question of which is the best kind of future for humanity. This may be the true answer (if truth is applicable to moral questions) or failing that, the answer we would converge to under an ideal process of reflection. It may be that even convergence is impossible, with some disputes or uncertainties that are beyond the power of reason to resolve. If so, our aim would be to find the future that gave the best possible conciliation between the remaining perspectives.[10]--

In the note at the end of that passage ("[10]"), Ord discusses deal-making between the different worldviews, dividing up the galaxies between them. The "we" in question is some kind of species-wide (plus AI?) elite, maybe? And the dividing up of galaxies is coordinated action.

My verdict, for now, is that the Long Reflection is conceived of as a way to coordinate action on a very broad ("species-wide+") scale.

I think that the question of "how much would everyone agree with the Long Reflection", as a process of discovery and then of the implementation of the fruits of that process of discovery, is open and could easily be answered by "the Long Reflection will leave a lot of people out, while the pro-LR people will think they were doing the best thing for all sentience-kind, if measures are not taken against that". For instance, if the pro-LR people (the kind of people who would show up to the discussion), with their lengthy reflection come to see that people who disagree can only do so through lack of reflection, they may not have sympathy for the views of those unreflective people, and thus (therefore sort of, or really) not have full sympathy with those people.

In other words, assuming reflectiveness as the main criterion for finding values of worth is a major assumption, which can exclude the values of less-reflective people.

Ord brings up the parallel to the Renaissance in note 12 of Ch. 7. Most people weren't involved in the Renaissance, but that's how we remember that time period. So, did humanity decide, collectively, to go through the Renaissance? Or was it a (semi-intentional) band of artists, philosophers, etc. who made it happen? If you asked a random sample of people at the time "Do you want to see X, Y, Z result of the Renaissance?" what percentage would say "yes" vs. "no"? Was the Renaissance humanity's decision, or did we sort of stumble into it? The Long Reflection is trying to be more deliberate, but is it humanity (or humanity+, to include AI or even animals in the process) making the decision, or is it just a subset of humanity(+)?

--

Semi-related: Is the Long Reflection a case of moral progress? We come to know the better views after "reflection"? Moral progress as a pursuit only makes sense if we know what better morals are supposed to look like, which means we have to have some minimalist a priori moral knowledge. Otherwise we have moral motion, but we have no idea if we have moral progress. I wonder what assumptions are baked into "reflection", which might give people a sense that they are value-neutrally evaluating moral change in such a way that they can somehow know that there has been or will be moral progress.

The problem with finding the epistemic answer is that we can't even know how to go about finding it. For instance, I personally believe that reason is the interrelationship of every piece of evidence, however gathered. To me, intuitions and things seen noetically or imaginally of all sorts are evidence. For another group of people, while intuitions are supposed to have something to do with reality, sense perceptions are weighted much more. Also, there are people who seemingly reject the idea that evidence has to come together in one whole. To them, it's fine for there to be a wider body of evidence, and then some other idea or experience that overrides everything else. We can discount evidence and reason as a whole because we have some overriding intuitive knowledge.

Who is right about the nature of reason? How do we know what the right foundation of reason is? I don't know that there is a way out of that dispute. But there might be. I feel like, despite all the skepticism that one could muster, we do have direct, unmediated access to the truth through personal experience. Each of us can be a witness to what we observe.

I think that if it is possible to come to know the truth, it partly comes from acquiring the right intuitions about how to approach reality, including how to be rational. Where do these intuitions come from? One source is through interpersonal relating. Each of the witnesses relates to each other, establishing their trustworthiness with each other both explicitly / intentionally and subtextually / by osmosis. So the Long Reflection can't be just an armchair exercise, but also one of relating to other people. How can you know that a Stone Age tribe has the wrong worldview (the wrong implicit attitudes toward reason), without at least talking to them and really seeing things the way they do? That worldview shapes their moral values.

Maybe this means that the Long Reflection will have to try to resurrect extinct Stone Age cultures, foster new ones being made, foster entirely new cultures. If subcultures of digital humans, no longer fearing death, start to believe that 2 + 2 = 5, the Long Reflection has to consider their point of view, as well as the faction that believes that 2 + 2 = 6.

We don't really know what rationality is supposed to be, so how can we use rationality to find the right moral values? And yet, naively, I feel like I know exactly what rationality is. So I can find the right moral values. Can't we all just be rational?

One could think of the Long Reflection as being a data-processing process. Cultures can generate an infinite number of "X is good" statements. But maybe it's a bounded infinity. Once you know how to answer the "is it 2 + 2 = 4, or 2 + 2 = 5?" question, maybe you know how to answer "is it 2 + 2 = 6?". Maybe, then, once you have talked to enough Stone Age people, you basically know the full range of their intuitions.

Normative and epistemic uncertainty can help us sort through many different worldviews. Our method of dealing with uncertainty may have a large, or even majority, determining effect on our agreed-upon beliefs, the output of the Long Reflection. But can we know how we ought to be normatively and epistemically uncertain? Could different cultures view that differently? Even if naturally, people tend to gravitate toward certain reasonable views about normative and epistemic uncertainty, couldn't there be unreasonable views that some digital human could hold, someone who isn't tethered to physical reality as essentially as we are, perhaps? (Is less affected by "physical reality bias".) How do you know that such a hypothetical person wouldn't be right, no matter how ridiculous their approach to normative and epistemic uncertainty may sound to you?

I see problems with the idea that the Long Reflection could be a sort of armchair philosophy that discovers the epistemic truth about what we should all do. The epistemic truth is something that is observed and witnessed to in the living of life. Being an armchair philosoper is living real life, but only the armchair philosophy part of it. Because people have to be involved with each other in order to produce "that which people as a whole agree on to coordinate their actions", and that involvement isn't just a technocratic "a few people observe everyone without being personally involved with them and come up with an answer for everyone", the Long Reflection has to be something that everyone works on, and has to be conceived of in the most open-minded way possible, to be open to everyone's witness to reality.

So the Long Reflection seems to have to be a partly political process. The difference between one person communicating their intuitions to another, and politics, may not be very big. We want to come to real harmony in our beliefs and intuitions, and that is part of the Long Reflection, but we also have to make decisions as a body of people. So, people trying to solve the problem that the Long Reflection needs to solve need to understand how to set up processes whereby people make pragmatic decisions together despite disagreement. Politics is the overriding of some people's witness for the sake of producing a pragmatic group decision. That sounds horrible, so it is best to produce real harmony instead.

(The overriding of the witness occurs in the implementation phase of politics, and it also chills people's witness when they internalize the thought that "someone else will decide rather than me, whether I want to or not, so I don't need to see things for myself". Politics (in general / the politics that would compete with the Long Reflection) is ongoing / iterative. Perhaps the Long Reflection people could try to encourage people to see for themselves -- "your view / witness may someday affect what decisions we make". Particularly in cases where people are, or suspect they are even if they aren't, in a minority that can't hope to compete with the volume of mainstream opinion.)

In a lot of cases, I would say "but we don't have time to really get everyone on board, thus the need for pragmatic decisions rather than group harmony". But the Long Reflection (The Precipice, Ch. 7, note 7) has an open-ended timeframe: --It is unclear exactly how long such a period of reflection would need to be. My guess is that it would be worth spending centuries (or more) before embarking on major irreversible changes to our future -- committing ourselves to one vision or another--

Isn't it possible that everyone's witness could be wrong? I don't know how to correct for that kind of systematic bias. A correction for that systematic bias could be itself compromised by however everyone is wrong. But we could remember a kind of holy fear as we go forward in our consensus, and be open for revision. The Long Reflection seems to require that at least in some practical sense, we come to The Answer once and for all, so we can go ahead and execute on moral value. But that is dangerous.

Maybe, though, we can show to ourselves that the set of moral values is a bounded infinity, and satisfy ourselves that there is no more that we can suppose about morality that we haven't accounted for? In principle, this process could work, but how could we ever know that it had really reached its completion?

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Do I honestly believe that there's no way to do armchair philosophy to find the epistemic answer? No. Being honest, I admit that I feel like it can be done.

Everyone is an armchair philosopher, already having figured out their own personal Long Reflection sufficiently to forge ahead and execute on their views of moral value.

We are (whether we realize it or not), running away from skepticism. Our method of running away from skepticism shapes what we say about reality. Here is how I run away from skepticism:

I exist. Something which is not-me exists. I personally relate to what is not-me. Everything that touches me is experience. The way experience touches things is by experiencing them, and experience, in what it is in itself (experience) can only be touched by experience. So everything that can directly or indirectly interact with me is experience. When I relate to "all things" (everything that exists), that relationship connects me to "all things". That which connects me to all things, facilitating that relationship, is conscious of all things.

That which should not be, at all, does not exist. To be is to ought to be (at least temporarily). To ought to be is to measure up to a standard which is enforced. The standard and the enforcer are made of experience. They must connect to all things, so that all things are validated. The enforcer of a standard must be legitimate. To be legitimate requires being willing to undergo the law, if possible. The law is the standard and its makers and enforcers. If possible, the law must include, be made by, a person who lives and dies like a person, not knowing all things (this is the law we are under). So the law must be (at least) two conscious beings: one who validates and experiences all things all the time, and one who can live a life as a limited personal being. To be legitimate requires that one keep the law, and part of any ultimate moral law is that we must put it higher than anything else, and thus be willing to die for it. So the standardmakers and enforcers of the law must be willing to die for the law.

So that's the foundation of moral value: what a specific set of personal beings decided was right and wrong. This set includes one person who experiences firsthand what everyone experiences, so we know at least that much about what is right and wrong, that bad experiences are disfavored by the law which must experience what we do. And we also know that one of the fundamental values that they have and must submit to is the willingness to risk everything for the law.

But I feel a kind of fear when I write this, because couldn't someone come from out of nowhere and prove it wrong? Aren't I making some assumptions with what I write? Wasn't I taught in Western schools, shaping how I think about things? Maybe if I had been raised as an Aborigine, or in India, they wouldn't make sense. What about the as yet unimagined culture of the digital humans of the 24th century, who live on a specific part of some specific server? The outside view is terrifying and rules out any belief. But the inside view of what I have described makes sense to me. So it is my witness, and perhaps by asserting it, I force someone else into the terror of the outside view.

Perhaps I can make my ideology that of normative and epistemic uncertainty. But what is implied by that view? It's not perfectly agnostic. Here is my attempt to make it my creed:

I exist. (Uncertainty doesn't matter to me unless it's relevant to me, which requires that I exist.) (And I exist in full thickness, because the word "I" when I say it implies all of me: hopes and profound fears, all that I have done and all that I intend.) I should think that some things are knowable, and that others are not. There are many worldviews held by many people. I don't know (I shouldn't say that I know) in advance which are correct. I should weigh all of them, considering the consequences of them supposing they are true. Somehow I should come up with some sort of guide for how I believe, act, and trust, given what I know.

I think (maybe tentatively) that the "should"s in the above paragraph are necessary either for normative and epistemic uncertainty to fit their (normative uncertainty's and epistemic uncertainty's) own definitions, or for them to be used as an input into finding moral guidelines. But all those "should"s make me ask, do we know that we have enough of a foundation for normative and epistemic uncertainty (the epistemic practice), in order to even begin with normative and epistemic uncertainty?

We could say "Well, we're just uncertain about moral and epistemic uncertainty. It's uncertainty all the way down." One thought that occurs to me is that the methods by which we evaluate uncertainty, are things about which we might have uncertainty. If uncertainty says "there's an X% chance, given uncertainty, that uncertainty is itself valid", maybe we spawn a meta-uncertainty about uncertainty. But that meta-uncertainty has a Y% chance of being valid. Now, X and Y are each between 0 and 1. So every layer of meta-uncertainty is multiplying increasingly many numbers between 0 and 1, which, mathematically, should eventually produce an infinitesimal / Pascalian number -- effectively zero, even if technically non-zero. (The implication being that stacking uncertainties and meta-uncertainties high enough undermines all of our credences, leaving us no way to rationally prefer an action over another.)

But maybe math is the wrong way to evaluate these things? I feel like not everything is math-apt, something which I see most clearly with Pascal's Mugging and the difficulty of defining exactly what is a Pascalian or non-Pascalian non-zero number. Maybe we can escape from the math? (Or maybe I've messed up some detail in the previous paragraph.)

Assuming that we can't escape from the math, is there any way to come up with the certainty needed to get a worldview of normative and epistemic uncertainty off the ground, such that we can use it to live our lives? Let's say that you are an uncertainty-using person, read the previous paragraph and say "Your explanations sound like they make sense, but I can just intuitively tell that normative and epistemic uncertainty makes sense to practice. I have some kind of certainty that can ground that method. I don't know where it comes from, but I have it." If you don't know where it came from, should you trust it? I'm not sure you can be certain either way. But I think from my own experience, there are things I can be certain about. For instance, I can see the computer screen of my laptop (and at this moment, you are likely looking at one as well, or that of some other device, or printed words on a page). We see images that are words, the words that I am typing right now. I am 100% sure that I am seeing the words that I'm typing. Similarly, if I see a cup on a table, I see a cup. No amount of philosophy makes the cup anything other than a cup. I could name it something else and think of it as having a different function. But the object, whatever its meaning to me, would remain, and I could see it, touch it, and so on, and interact with it as part of my ordinary human life. So maybe we can be certain about the validity of a worldview of normative and epistemic uncertainty, (be certain on the level of meta-certainty) in the same way. We just see it. If other people don't see it, maybe they don't have the equivalent of a cup on the table in front of them. I wouldn't be concerned if a blind person said they couldn't see something I saw. Or if a young person didn't understand my perspective, having not lived through the unique experiences I've lived through. I would go on having my perspective, understanding that they don't understand what I do. This sounds like a case of "some people witness some truths, others others".

Now it looks as though, given the above, that the very worldview of normative and epistemic uncertainty is something that is witnessed, and is not an absolute frame that can be relied on to form top-down judgments about reality.

--

However, let's look at the problem of meta-uncertainty again. What's going on when we evaluate the uncertainty and meta-uncertainty of something? Well... we exist, we evaluate. These are elemental actions that go into any reasoning about uncertainty and validity. Just as I can in complete reality reach for the cup on the table, I can in complete reality reach out, in my mind, to an uncertainty, which is a thing that is not me. What does it mean for "we" to exist, and for us to "evaluate"? We are applying a standard, and a standard about standard-application. These things (or at least enough of them) we know like we know that in this sentence there is the word "that". We have the standard in even our uncertainty, and through the standard we can be uncertain. So, a standard exists, absolutely, regardless of meta-uncertainty. Meta-uncertainty, and thus would-be self-destructive meta-uncertainty, has no validity without the standard.

So we exist, each of us in our own full-fledged personhood, and a standard exists. A standard validates each standard, so it's standards all the way up. We can see that the chain is valid, because we know that arguments can be invalid, 100% invalid. These standards cannot be argued with. There is no infinite regress of standards that validate standards, because there is a meta-standard that immediately validates all other standards. So this is moral value. And what can we know about it? (At this point, maybe just the things from my personal belief system, like that it must live up to itself, put itself first in such a way that it risks itself, and subject itself to its own laws, and even that it be a conscious being.)

--

I'm currently planning to read Nietzsche, who I think will provide a cynical, weird, and (perhaps) implausible account of how morality came to be, as well as Charney, from whose book I can make a laminar, reasonable, and plausible (possibly "just-so") account of how morality comes to be. Despite Nietzsche's weirdness and (likely) wrongness, I think he will problematize "genealogy of morality" more vividly than Charney, who after all (I assume) isn't trying to talk about where morality comes from.

If morality comes from somewhere -- somewhere political, or from evolution -- does that make it invalid? Is the concept of morality even worth defending, if it has nothing to do with what is real, and is simply an artifact of how humans choose to program humans, or how human biology gives us certain instincts? Why even care about maximizing value? Most or perhaps even nearly all of us have natural instincts to seek value. But why should we care? Could we just get rid of them, or let them wither away? I have reasons for caring, because I believe that standards / law / morality / legitimacy have their own existence, and in themselves inherently call for them to be made first. "Should" refers to something real which I directly experience, and which must in some form come before any events in a genealogy of the morality we currently have.

The Long Reflection is what (more or less) apolitical people would favor. The "rough and tumble" (brute force) political process is what often runs the world. People who care about the Long Reflection probably would or ought to care about how "values are created" through the application of socially mediated psychological power. Nietzsche connected with brute force things, and maybe his book will have discussions of them. If morality is something that is witnessed, then teachers have a special witness to children as they "teach them to care". The "physics" of teaching people may be a limit on what things they can be taught, especially when what is being taught is conducive to the teaching process. It could be that the Long Reflection would favor beliefs that are practical to spread and believe, and that are conducive to the education process. It could do so by being agnostic(-enough) about value and not do anything, and then lo and behold, education-aligned values would outcompete ones that go against education. (Or, "education as practiced by the 21st, 22nd, etc. century education system".) If the Long Reflection people say "X is best", but everyone else says "Y is best", probably Y will be done. If the Long Reflection is careful and diffident, political and educational actors will not be, and it may be difficult for Reflective people to effectively object, if they feel like they ought to.

(So should the Long Reflection have some political muscle of its own? Probably it would have to find a way to be culturally competitive, or better, connect with everyone in a non-competitive but thoroughgoing way, without compromising its own process.)

--

Here's an earlier attempt to address the same topic as this, with a lot of overlap [now the blockquote indicates something other than content responding more or less directly to The Precipice]:

(Troubling?) Questions for the Long Reflection

This is a draft of a post I would have posted to the EA Forum. My (preliminary) answers to the issues raised in it are in []s.

--

The Long Reflection is a time in which we will (may) try to find the best possible values, so that we can propagate them through space and time far into the future. We don't want to mess up this process, because if we do, we will forego a lot of value (or cause a lot of disvalue).

I like the thought of trying to search for the best values, and I also like using reason and reflection to do so. I'm a religious person and the kind of approach to religion I like is (aspires to be) rational and reflective. I like thinking of the Long Reflection as a time where we finally get to the bottom of what is good in all of human culture.

But I feel like there are some potential important questions to answer about whether the Long Reflection is even feasible.

--

What is the best way to go about finding the best values? Does reflection actually help? Should we use reason?

[My working definition of "reason" is the "interrelationship of all evidence / premises, however we gather them". Reflection is that processing that enables us to interrelate. If we want to talk about the truth as a whole, then it looks like reason is how we know the truth. In principle, reality is a whole and thus is known through reason. It's hard to imagine reality (that which may become relevant to us) not being a whole of some sort. I am not sure this 100% proves that reason and reflection is the best way to go about finding the best values. But maybe it lends enough weight to reason to favor it. Also, a big part of "reason" involves saying "this is a valid premise, but that is not" and so "reason" can be a loaded term, loaded with "what the habitus of the people speaking consider acceptable or unacceptable as premises". It's not as clear that our culture's loading of "reason" produces a "reason" which is the way to go about finding the best values. Similarly with "reflection". We think about what are reflective people? What is the vibe of a reflective person? Isn't there a bias there?]

Can we prove that non-reflective thinking is less reliable than reflective thinking?

Can we prove that irrational thinking is less reliable than reflective thinking?

Assuming we are rational, I suppose we have premises and logic, which lead to conclusions. Where do we get our premises from? In areas of value, many of our premises seem to come from interpersonal relationships. Will we try to interpersonally relate with all kinds of people in order to inform our premises? (In principle, I don't see why not, although in practice it might or might not be feasible.)

Whose minds are we trying to make up?

If we don't try to make up everyone's minds substantially in accord with our own, then are we going to force the consequences of our ideas on them against their will / preferences when we start to implement policies based on the conclusions of our Long Reflection?

If we do try to make everyone's minds up, can we deal with obstacles like "different, supposedly rational versions of reason" (for instance, the idea that you can have the entire world of truth, and then some other basic belief that is not part of that interconnecting world of truth takes precedence over it and that's just fine -- (a thought inspired by Alvin Plantinga in Warranted Christian Belief, which I think says something similar).

Our intuitions about what are true, the bedrocks of reason, come from culture and biology. What happens when we can change biology freely? Can we have a coherent definition of what is rational, if future biological brains, or AI, or digital humans, have radically different intuitions about what is rational? Should we defer to them as being more rational than us, or insist that we are more rational than them for some reason? Or take a kind of normative / epistemic uncertainty approach, where we can find a way to consider all the different possibilities and "collapse it down" into concrete action? How many different rationalities can be evolved? Is it possible to take them all into account to form a practical rationality (one which we can act on)?

(One version of rationality is based on something like Yudkowsky's illustration of the shepherds, where one character ignores physical reality, dies, and is thus not represented in the gene pool. But what if a) we don't think that this life is the only one, or b) just don't care about non-existence? What if the actual best values are to not exist? Or if values themselves don't matter? Can anything constrain our definition of what is rational then?)

[The Yudkowsky story can be found here.]

If we come to figure out what the best values are, will we freeze cultural evolution so that new values are not evolved? How would we do that? Maybe we want to ensure that we have considered all possible values before doing that. Is that possible?

Will thinking about values be dominated by "epistemic utility monsters"? (Hell being maybe the ultimate one.) Will all our values be based on "avoiding the worst possible hell as proposed by religion X"?

If you look at human beliefs currently, you see the unfortunate scenario that there are two huge religions that preach hell (some form of Christianity and some form of Islam), and these two religions seemingly teach very explicitly that either "You have to accept a God who is somehow more than one person" and "You cannot accept a God who is more than one person." Apparently there is no right answer. Naively it looks like you just flip a coin between the two of them, and hope you guessed right (although their adherents are convinced that there are reasons to pick one side over the other). Is there a rational way to "gate off" Islam and Christianity, to where their competing infinite disutilities do not affect how we think rationally at all? Or to determine that one of them is more rational than the other, and is the one we should actually follow? But then, what if someone evolves a new religion, consisting of 1,000 adherents, and they also have a belief in hell? Are they less valid for only having 1,000 adherents? What if the religion only has 1 adherent? Could someone make up an ad hoc religion to push whatever value they care about? Would there be any way to rule out that they should be taken seriously?

Mentioning the tactic of making up ad hoc religions leads to the question of "is what this is all about more a competition of preferences"? Instead of using reason, using rhetoric, or stronger psychological force. Will the Long Reflection become, rather than a search for the truth that's "out there", more of a political process whereby people promote their own values, whatever they may be, which is to be "won" by whoever can? Maybe this warrants a different name than "Long Reflection", but would go on at the same time and contest some of the same issues, and perhaps the two processes would fight each other. How, and why, would reason be safeguarded against personal preference?

--

I'm not sure that these questions can't be answered in a way that allows the Long Reflection to go forward, but they seem like things that might be a problem.

Some guesses where to find answers: I didn't finish reading the Sequences, so maybe that addresses these issues? As mentioned, wrestling with "alternative rationalities" like Reformed epistemology or maybe something in Buddhism.

--

I think that's all I have to say on the topic for now, so I will see what I see in the readings.

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Book Review Preview: Along the Way, ed. Ron Bruner and Dana Kennamer Pemberton

See also the review.

I had been meaning to read Along the Way: Conversations About Children and Faith (a book of essays edited by Ron Bruner and Dana Kennamer Pemberton) for a while, and this seemed like a good time to look into it. It's a book about children and Christianity. It looks like it's from a "Stone-Campbell" perspective (the broader movement that includes the Churches of Christ, the tradition I grew up in).

I guess this book will ask questions in different categories which I can try to answer from a MSLN perspective. (How to relate Stone-Campbell faith to children might provide a template for which questions to answer from an MSLN perspective.) I guess that's mainly what I'm looking to it to provide. But maybe there will be other things that I find interesting in it.

Monday, July 18, 2022

MSLN and Mormonism?

A commenter on this blog pointed out similarities between the New Wine System and Mormonism. Looking at Wikipedia didn't disconfirm what they said.

I think I will regret saying too much before I do my own studying. But a few questions seem okay to ask now.

Does this mean that there is an existing religion (Mormonism) that has something like the MSLN motivational structure? It might be hard to isolate one idea's effect on a culture's motivation, since there might be a lot of other factors. But I would guess that it could give an idea what one New Wine religion looks like, if you could "control for confounders".

Mormonism may have a New Wine structure "on the books" (present in its teachings somewhere) but not emphasize it socially (not really preach it). Is Mormonism "evangelical" (about keeping people out of hell) or is it "civilizational" (about making a functioning society in this life), "people-pleasing" (about reassuring, strengthening, catering to its people and their felt needs), or something else other than "evangelical"? I would guess that it's a mix of all three, and the mix is regulated with preaching rather than teaching. At least that's how things seem (to me) to work in mainstream Christianity. If Mormonism downplays the risk of being lost, or fails to mention it, it would be different than MSLN, although it might still be a basically New Wine-reflecting thing.

Usually I have thought that the Bible gains credence from its compatibility with the New Wine System (and/or legitimism). If God is the God of MSLN, then if he produced a revelation, it would most likely be a New Wine- and legitimism-compatible teaching. Maybe this means that if we found such a teaching, we should try to do what it says, assuming that it certainly could be from God -- we being "searchers" for opportunities to please God, we would reach out toward possible ways to align ourselves with him. Plausibly, LDS scripture as a whole (Bible + books specific to LDS canon) is New Wine, and is compatible with legitimism. Does this mean that MSLN gives credence to the LDS canon? What would be the implications of that? (How does this "giving credence" thing work?)

Well, now I someday intend to read the LDS canon and some secondary materials. I can add that to my list of things to do.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

Book Review: In the Shadow of the Banyan by Vaddey Ratner

I didn't plan on writing a review of In the Shadow of the Banyan (by Vaddey Ratner). I read it to pass the time, rather than as part of some kind of study or writing program. But now that I've read it, I have some thoughts about it.

The book is a novel, based on the author's actual experiences as a young girl, member of the Cambodian royal family during the time of the Khmer Rouge, an anti-royal, anti-Western Communist revolutionary group that killed millions of Cambodians through purges, overwork, and underfeeding. She journeys from a relatively sheltered situation at the beginning of the book (a child who lives in the imaginal and familiar world of family, stories, Asian Buddhism, Hindu myths), through a series of progressively darker dislocations and losses, until she is struck dumb. She manages to survive (mirroring the author's survival) and make it out of Cambodia with her mother.

I thought of not writing this review, because the thoughts that I had feel like ones that are underdeveloped at this point, or that might not fit what I want to write about in this chapter of the blog, but something insists in me that I do write, and maybe I'm writing notes for later writing that explores the following subjects in more detail.

I identified with three themes that I saw in the book: The imaginal world, the Revolution, and the cross.

--

The spiritual/imaginal world was something that the narrator's grandmother, and the narrator, both spent a fair amount of time in, as though when we are new to the world, or not long left in it, we are better able to see things like tevodas (angel-like beings), ghosts, or connect with the story of Indra, with mythical explanations for things. I don't remember there being any moments where the imaginal world appeared in the sensory world (the "real" world), but the grandmother and narrator were able to see it. I think that there is a part of me that lives in that world -- in fact, that's the world of philosophy, though it often presents itself prosaically and mechanistically. And, I sometimes feel (sometimes too much) that I belong there more than I do in the sensory world. I'm not sure I have much of a point to make in bringing this up, but that was my reaction.

--

The Revolution spoke to me, because of how much the revolutionaries were into willing and working. The book shows how some of them were heartless, psychopathic, and corrupt, and this makes me think that the revolutionary spirit is dangerous.

I know that some of my past writing (notably How Can We Love?) could, perhaps in its emphasis, if not its text read carefully, be considered a broadly left- (or "revolutionary humanist"-) leaning thing. It has some of the spirit of Revolution, even though it says on the surface of it things that go against Revolution. I think I would say now that the book is flawed, to the extent that it lends itself to a revolutionary humanist reading, because that was not my intention. But it is a somewhat revolutionary thing and that gives me one reason to want to think about the dangers of the revolutionary spirit.

In the Shadow of the Banyan mentions that there was a split within the Khmer Rouge between the Cause and the Party. The Cause was idealistic, but the Party took over. Causes tend to draw on one kind of energy, that of ordinary people, non-psychopathic human desires. But parties can focus on their own well-being, rather than devoting themselves fully to a cause, and outcompete groups still into causes. This is a pessimistic thought, and it's worth noting that there are a lot of places where parties exist but do not wipe out idealism. (Moloch seems like an undefeatable dynamic, but for some reason it doesn't always rule.) There is a tension between Party and Cause tendencies in a society, and it's wise to be concerned about how any cause could turn into a purely partisan thing.

I know that the revolutionary spirit is dangerous, but, as long as the status quo needs to be changed in some way, it is necessary, and perhaps revolutions, or the spirit of revolutions, is needed to maintain the status quo (if you don't fix things, you decay, and some fixing is "microrevolutionary"). A Communist rejoinder to a book speaking of the horrors of the Khmer Rouge might be "fair enough, they were corrupt and captured by psychopathy, and the empowerment of the corruption and psychopathy was enabled by the revolutionary spirit, but you should also do a calculation, alongside that of the death toll from the Khmer Rouge, of the lives lost due to the corruption and psychopathy that prevents capitalist society from doing the most it's really capable of doing to help the poor". (This sounds like something an effective altruist or EA-type person might try to calculate, or already has.) It may turn out to be the case that revolutionary Communism always turns out to be worse for people, but capitalism (or "capitalism+" (plus civil society? the state?)) that isn't doing its best also (less visibly) has blood on its hands.

As is often the case, formulas are dangerous. If you're into Communism or capitalism, you need to be into the good version of that, because the bad version is as bad as the ideology you reject, or perhaps worse.

Should we think in terms of "blood on people's hands"? I think there is an awful truth to it. The moral truth is something that, when comprehended, causes people to do the moral thing. Is it perhaps misleading to talk about "blood on people's hands", is that a deceptive truth? Perhaps for some people, it is deceptive, and for others, it is basically non-misleading. I think that we gaze at the harshest moral truths and then walk away from them to do our relaxed versions of good. (I think that the Drowning Child Illustration is one of the harshest moral truths and generally EAs walk away from it to do their relaxed version of good, as much as that relaxed version of good might burn them out.) If we never gazed, we might never change into the much more mundane, if still countercultural, versions of ourselves that live in the shadow of the gaze.

I try to focus on saying what's true (because I'm a writer, and I feel like that's my "professional" responsibility). I don't think that the Khmer Rouge's worldview is correct, as much as they might be on to something when they see the moral truth of people held down by the ruling classes, or suffering or dying prematurely. For instance, this life is not the limit of our existence, as they thought, and so purity is something that is not desperately urgent. Purity is something that is necessary, and will come in its time -- the sooner the better, but not desperately soon. I think that MSLN / New Wine System-descended thinking is good for addressing both revolutionary humanism and traditional evangelical religion in their crazily desperate (and on their view, completely necessary) sense that they have to do radical good (on a societal and personal level) NOW, that time is running out for people who must get the essential good (a nice life, or conversion to Christianity) in this life, with death coming all-too-soon.

I understand that the Khmer Rouge, as Communists, were atheists. I believe that God exists, and if I'm correct in that belief, then the emphasis on human well-being found in Communism (as well as in other forms of humanism) could easily be misguided if it ignores God, how our relationships to God are the most fundamental field of altruism. Much of what revolutionary (or microrevolutionary) humanists want to achieve is somewhat orthogonal to people's relationships to God and may not be as valuable, necessary, or urgent as it seems. Making things better from an atheistic standpoint could, in some cases, be dangerous or harmful from a theistic standpoint.

I feel a strong momentum in the direction of secular humanist altruism. For instance, it's relatively easy for me to feel a sense of outrage, or something like that, at things like physical poverty. I think I am somewhat wired to responding to the vivid, loud, and obvious, as I suppose most of us are. The habit of wanting to remove suffering or prolong life, in this life, is not the worst habit. But I have to remember that there's more to the truth than this life.

--

Finally, I saw the cross in Ratner's/the narrator's experience. Not that she pursued the cross, although her father did in a fairly obvious way, but in that she underwent the cross. There was a moment toward the end where, to me, it seemed like the narrator died inside in a somewhat good way, and thenceforth had nothing to lose, and little (or less) to fear. (See chapter 29, pp. 295 - 296 in first hardcover edition.) That is one dimension of undergoing the cross, that it pushes us to the point that in some sense we are okay with dying or our death (maybe this is something I can validly connect to the moment in the novel). We are made to be willing to die by being forced close to death, and having "died", we are free. Maybe we have some free will in the matter? I'm not sure, but the narrator was given a gift at that moment of "survivable death" (again, if I'm reading this right). I may want to look at In the Shadow of the Banyan when I someday write a proper book on the cross.

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Learning Languages; Indonesian

I met someone on a pen pal site from Indonesia, and I got interested in learning more about that country. Then, I was having a hard time getting writing done one day and thought about learning Indonesian. So I went to the Indonesian Wikipedia and looked around. I looked up some of the words that looked interesting, and tried using the random article function to explore. I found that I was learning that way.

Now doing that, or similar things, is a little bit of a habit, maybe 20 minutes a day. Indonesian is an easy language to learn, I think. I've tried learning (in descending order of how far I got:) Spanish, German, and Russian before, all of them through some kind of "official language learning" thing (school, cassette tapes, Duolingo). I realize now that that spirit takes the fun out of learning, and that it's better to do something inexpertly over and over over a long time period than to do things well for a while and then give up. If you keep your love for something, you can go far. I like freely exploring "all knowledge" (Indonesian Wikipedia) rather than learning practical things I would need as a tourist, or grammar. I guess someday I'll end up learning those things somehow.

Indonesian and Spanish are both spoken in the developing world, which interests me. Indonesia is the fourth-most-populous country in the world. Could climate change (or war?) send refugees to where I live who speak Indonesian or Spanish? Or maybe I could spend time in Indonesia, where the official religions include Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism (as well as Christianity). If I ever get to the point in my life where I want to focus on non-Christian religions, that might be a good place to go. Or maybe I could go to Tijuana, which could be a day trip for me where I live, and speak Spanish there, or find someone where I live whose main language is Spanish. (Or I could interact with those languages' social media worlds.)

A saying that I read in The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson is "you overestimate what you can do in a year but underestimate what you can do in ten years". I don't think I'll be fluent in Indonesian anytime soon.

How serious am I about learning Indonesian? I tried to quit learning, and decided not to, and then I felt the interest coming back on its own. This is a sign to me to consider myself really on the way to learning the language.

Friday, May 6, 2022

Book Review Preview: Holy Resilience by David M. Carr

See also the review for Holy Resilience.

In 2018, I wrote a book called Patience. It's a sort of strange book, most of which I can't remember right now. I've tried to re-read my old books in the last few years, but I haven't gotten around to reading that one. But I am aware of one part of it that opened up a big new area in my thinking.

Someone I knew back in the middle of the 2010s was a secular Jew around my age who was a history student. He pointed me to a book by Yosef Yerushalmi called Zakhor which claimed that "history was the faith of fallen Jews". What impressed me was a claim that Yerushalmi was using as background for his argument, which is I would guess not original to him, that the Hebrew Bible was the "cultural memory" of the Jews, and not history.

It struck me that the Hebrew Bible / Old Testament was something "remembered from" a position. Even as a non-scholar, it really looked to me like a lot of the Old Testament was written down in captivity. That's when the history books (1 Samuel through 2 Kings / 2 Chronicles) leave off. My naive theory is that a lot of the content of the Old Testament was oral tradition, and the editors or canonizers of the Old Testament chose which oral tradition to preserve and trust. The Old Testament could be historically accurate, but it's more like the past of the people in captivity, which makes them who they are, and only secondarily history in a secular sense (what literally happened in time). I don't think this takes away from the possibility that they are inspired. Maybe God wanted his people to remember their past a certain way. Maybe the events of the Old Testament literally happened in a kind of spiritual world, which is somehow in parallel with our own and which we have lived and will live again in our own secular way.

I thought that the Jews ended up being admirable because they were losers when they wrote down the Old Testament. They were losers who survived.

At the time, and still to this day, I don't feel a strong sense of identification with a people group. Some people are very nationalistic -- some in ways that seem good, others in ways that seem bad (like the Nazis). Nationalism is a great way to start wars; motivate genocide and ethnic cleansing; suppress, shame, or dehumanize people; or waste time getting and feeling angry. Nationalism (as I used it in my book) doesn't have to just be about nation-states, but could operate at different levels -- it operates at the level of the individual with his or her own personal nation, as well as in the family or friend group, and in the church or workplace, and in various identities (races, sexes/genders, and sexual orientations as identities rather than as accidental physical facts, political or religious affiliations, fandoms), all of them nationalisms. The love that we have for ourselves and others is often (or usually?) nationalism. So every affiliation that draws persons into distinct people groups (one meaning of "political"), we could call nationalism. So that "nationalism" (which can include nation-state level nationalism) can make people brothers and sisters of each other, emotionally bonded, can give them spiritual nourishment, can give them a sense of being a person, can motivate whatever it is that causes people to help each other.

I don't think that that "good nationalism" is a good god, in fact, I think it is a tempting idol. But, "bad nationalism" is an obviously bad god that can also be an idol. And good nationalism, like all really good temptations, is a good thing in itself. Perhaps we need good nationalism (of a sort that is really good and non-tempting) so that bad nationalism or bad anationalism doesn't cause us to get desperate for good-nationalism-of-whatever-sort, leading us to idolize good nationalism.

So there are two questions: can we split good nationalism from bad nationalism, and how? And, can we make nationalism an inherently God-worshiping thing instead of a very good thing which turns us away from God? I don't know the answer to the second question right off the top of my head right now, but I have a suggestion for the first, based in the sort of notable moment of insight or inspiration I had when I wrote Patience.

Being ignorant of most of Jewish history, I saw the Jews as being the people group who wrote and remembered the Old Testament. So what kind of people wrote and remembered the Old Testament? Losers. So I thought, if I'm going to be part of a people group, part of a chain of cultural memory, if I'm going to adopt an identity as a person who belongs to other people based on their collective self-concept and "past", and in this way become a "thick" person who connected with people, what group should I choose? The Jews (the people who wrote and remembered the Old Testament) have claim to being the people of God's word. They certainly have a "past" (the Old Testament itself), which I could adopt. But, notably, they are also the losers of history, dispossessed, looking back on how they messed up, how they fell away from God, how they mistreated each other. I thought that if I intentionally identified with this, even strongly, I would not fall into the temptations of bad nationalism.

At that point I thought that if I was ever going to join a people group, for real, on the level of "rootedness", it should be to the Jews who wrote down and remembered the Old Testament, or people who could be considered sufficiently like them, although not necessarily to the Jews in general.

Recently, I heard on this episode of the Israel Bible Podcast an introduction to David M. Carr's Holy Resilience which claims that the Bible (both Old and New Testament) came out of response to trauma, and that that origin enables it to speak to people in difficult times. This is why it has staying power over time, where more triumphalistic texts have failed. (At least, that's what I remember from the episode -- I may have misinterpreted or misremembered it.) If that is Carr's argument, it's akin to what I believe, but also maybe strangely askew to it. It sounds like maybe Carr will have the people of the Bible be winners after all, the winners who use non-triumphalism about their failed "battles" to help them win the longer-term "war" of survival. Survival is good, and "pays the rent" for the truth, but survival itself isn't the point -- it's a very good thing and therefore a very compelling temptation to idolatry.

I expect Carr to have interesting arguments, some of which may support my own point of view. I'm also perhaps expecting that he could say things which flesh out his point of view in a way that makes my own less attractive to me. (Sometimes seeing your reflection in a mirror does that.) So, I've bought a copy of the book, and intend to start reading it soon.

(I read the preface and it somewhat makes me think that Carr will not be in favor of triumphalism, but will also not be arguing for exactly what I would argue for.)

Friday, March 18, 2022

Book Review Preview: City of God by Augustine

I'm interested right now in Catholicism, but also in spiritual X-risk. That is, the possibility of the state of civilization getting to where it hinders "catastrophic" (however defined) numbers of people from reaching God, or, in other words, causes or is upstream of "catastrophic" numbers of people hardening. One spiritual X-risk would be for a kind of Brave New World scenario to evolve. I can see this as a default outcome of secular culture given the way it is now and where it's headed. One might think that a better long-term future for humanity would be under the rule of the Church.

(Some people would wonder why Christianity is the right choice for all of humanity, and this is a good thing to bear in mind.)

If the Christian Church ruled over the whole world, what if it was teaching (or embodying) the wrong thing? It could mislead both on a "textual" or conscious level, or on a "subtextual" or subconscious level. It could fatally impede people's full love of God with their hearts, souls, minds, strengths, or any combination thereof. This would further Satan's eternal agenda, but the Church could also open up people to Satanic access in the "merely" here-and-now (abusive cultures, supernatural attack).

If so, would it be able to be corrected? Would it discourage self-correction? Could that wrong teaching or embodiment keep people out of heaven, even if it might be excellent at keeping them in the Church?

If the answer to that last question is "yes", then if we are "longtermists" about spiritual well-being, we should look at the spiritual failure modes of the Church as it might become in the future, and especially those of the Church ruling over the whole world. How can Satan use the Church? If the Church isn't aware of how he might, he probably will.

So I want to consider the failure modes of different Christianities, when it comes to spiritual X-risk. The most obvious candidate for "Christianity that might rule the world" is Roman Catholicism. But in the farther future, that may change. However, for now, it is an example of an existing pro-establishedness, pro-authoritarian Christianity, and is the largest Christian organization, so is currently closest to realizing a "rule of the Church over all". So I want to understand Catholicism better, especially in its political dimensions. (I hope to explore other Christianities, particularly Reformed political thinking, which are in favor of something leaning "integralist", and also the anti-establishment Christianities, to see what their spiritual failure modes are.)

I am aware that my own project is in some ways like the Catholic project (both are concerned with holiness, civilization, an intermediate afterlife, natural theology, the ways in which Christian religion relates to all of reality -- and there may be other similarities I'm not aware of at this moment), but I think I base my thinking on different starting assumptions or spirits, and I feel like it might be wise to understand more clearly exactly what the similarities and differences are between the New Wine System or especially my own MSLN project, and Catholicism. Perhaps by reading a foundational book in Catholic thinking, I can see this more clearly.

(I don't want to try to be anti-Catholic by pursuing this, and the ecumenical side of me would hope that if any Catholics read of the potential failure modes of Catholicism and see something they realize they haven't taken into account adequately, they would seek to reform Catholicism to protect it and its followers from that danger. I think Catholicism is genuinely Christian and probably the values it most aspires to are best served by facing the dangers that could accompany its dominance. So this project should be aligned with Catholic interests, to some extent. However, I sense that MSLN will end up somewhat at odds with Catholicism, just as it should with all other existing Christianities.)

(This study may be of particular value to warn people who are into MSLN, since after all, MSLN shares some of Catholicism's project.)

(Also, it occurs to me to consider, what about if other religions sought to be the one religion over all the world? I feel like Christianity is the one to consider first, partly because I am trying to further it in some sense and want to know how things could go wrong if "I" were in charge of things; partly because I think as the largest religion currently and (in the Catholic church) the largest organized religion, it is the most obvious contender for "religion that rules over the world"; partly because I feel least out of my depth in thinking about it. But an analogous project should be pursued for each of the religions. I suppose that such a project could be pursued by someone who believed in the religion, or by someone outside the religion. If I were to pursue one of these projects, I would judge the religions by the standard of MSLN.)

(Also, what are the dangers of a bad religious pluralism? Imagine all the religions coexisting, functioning in some ways as a religion over all, in a way that is spiritually dangerous.)

I've had a copy of Augustine's City of God for a long time that I've never read, and it seems like a fairly basic thing that talks about the relationship between religion (Christian), non-religion (non-Christianity), and politics. I wouldn't be surprised if I see it referenced a lot in other books on that or those topics. City of God is actually not just a Catholic book. I would guess it's part of the lineage of a lot of Orthodox and Protestant thinkers as well, because it was written before the major church splits.

The copy I have is abridged ("for modern readers"), the Vernon J. Bourke abridgement (introduction by Etienne Gilson; tr. by Gerald Walsh, Demetrius Zema, Grace Monahan, and Daniel Honan). That's probably good enough for me (the fact that it's somewhat abridged doesn't bother me too much). Maybe if I really want to get into ancient or medieval Christianity I can get an unabridged edition to re-read. Ultimately, I'm not concerned with what Augustine said, but rather with the reality of the present and future, but I think whatever influence I can get from him could be helpful in my own thinking. I think that whatever I read will help me get closer to understanding Catholicism, even if I could theoretically get even closer by reading the parts that were abridged.

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Theism Bias and Atheism Bias

It's possible to have a cognitive bias in favor of theism, as well as one in favor of atheism, or opposed to theism.

One experience that I had that makes me think that atheism bias may be a thing is what happens sometimes when I think about credences for the existence of God. I have found, often enough, that I can't believe in God unless I arrive at some internal credence of 1 that he exists. I think when we believe things to be true, it is often to us as though there is no possibility of them being false. To be made aware of uncertainty somehow completely destroys a belief.

A credence of 0.9 isn't good enough for me. I can't seem to process the probability of God existing, which ought to go a long way even if certainty isn't possible. Humans might not ought to be expected to be good at thinking involving probability, but I think there's even an inconsistency in me there, where the 90% threat of something means something to me, but threats that are 90% likely given the 90% likelihood that God exists do not bother me as much as they should, while I do respond (with fairly assiduous avoidance) to most 90% chances of threats that I think matter. I do think that unwittingly being deceived by Satan matters (a likely risk given the 90% chance the worldview obtains which includes the God I believe in). But I seem to often not naturally care about it for some reason, and I suspect that there is some kind of atheism bias at play. Rationally, I should care (at least by my lights), but sometimes find that I don't.

(Another explanation, which may avoid bringing in the concept of atheism bias: this may be a case where my belief in Satan has been more often in the past an ought-belief rather than an is-belief. On the other hand, maybe atheism bias often just is the difficulty of is-believing things related to God.)

That's an atheism bias that cuts through my usual theism bias. Atheism biases can find a more welcome home in other people (maybe the welcome home for them can itself be a bias).

Theism bias and atheism bias both (at least partially) discredit theistic and atheistic beliefs formed under their influences. It's possible that atheistic beliefs that break through a theism bias, or theistic beliefs that break through an atheism bias, are to be given more credit, for having arisen under hostile circumstances. However, I think that if you want to believe something badly enough, it generates its own bias both toward and away from belief. In other words, the fact that theism bias discredits beliefs formed under its influence creates an automatic atheism bias, which then discredits atheistic beliefs as well. (This puts a person in a kind of impossible position, at least while it lasts.) If atheists want to be atheists badly enough, the same dynamic should hold for them.

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Process: Eternal Conscious Torment Dominates Reason?

I had intended to find an answer (at least enough of an answer) to the question in the post title and write it in this article. But I find that I can't answer it in a timely fashion, and think it is interesting to post some of my process as I seek an answer. So this post ends with different research directions I could go, rather than answering the questions developed in the body of it.

It's rational to take into consideration the greatest threats to human well-being and then try to avoid them, even if they are relatively unlikely. Annihilation is a threat worth avoiding, but even more so is eternal conscious torment (ECT). If this is the case, then if there is some proposed worldview that contains ECT, we should have to adjust our behaviors to fit it, (almost) no matter how unlikely it is -- unless we can come up with a defeater for that practical belief. ("Practical belief" being something that is believed in by action, whether or not we are fully sure of it epistemically.)

There are a large, potentially infinite, number of worldviews that propose ECT, but if their likelihood is all Pascalian, then we can't practically worry about them, because they cancel each other out. But suppose there is some religion X that proposes ECT (let's say, an analog to the Invisible Flying Spaghetti Monster that gives those who do not eat the dishes it approves of horrendous food poisoning for all eternity). Let's say we have some small amount of rational evidence for its truth, which pushes its credence above the Pascalian, into the non-Pascalian. So now, are we practically obliged to observe the list of approved foods (which is heavy on pasta)? Is its food poisoning a strong enough consideration to swamp whatever good comes from committing to the God of MSLN? Sure, MSLN's God promises eternal life. But how can the promised reward of eternal life compare with the promised threat of eternal food poisoning? (And of course, the Stringent Invisible Flying Spaghetti Monster (SIFSM) offers a paradise of delicious pasta dishes and also transcendent high-qualia-of-ought-to-be-ness-inducing salads, for all eternity, a reward which easily equals any similarly hedonic heaven that God could offer.)

The threat of ECT is worth considering, no matter how little evidence there is for it, provided there is some. So how can we parse this situation? Do we have to let ECT dominate reason? We might be 99% sure of the truth of MSLN, but only 1% sure of the truth of SIFSM, and strangely enough turn away from and fail to trust the God that is very likely to exist for the one who is very likely to not exist, just because the expected (dis)value of ignoring the unlikely one promises to be so high. This does not seem like an entirely desirable situation to be in, from the standpoint of the intersection of good practice with good believing. Is there some kind of "practico-epistemic" (to coin a word that perhaps doesn't need coining) filter to keep us from having to act as though we believe in just any even-barely-non-Pascalian ECT worldview?

Here's one way to try to get out: Christianity, for better or worse, has had on the books some kind of ECT doctrine for its entire existence. It's debatable whether the Bible really teaches it, but for the purposes of this, just that it is debatable is strong enough. The evidence for Christianity is considerable. Hundreds of millions of people perceive it to be true, and perceive that its God exists. The only competitors to it on that scale are the worldviews of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and secularism. Certainly some upstart like SIFSM doesn't have that level of witness. This traditional Christianity threatens a hell that is just as bad as the worst conceivable food poisoning, for just as long, all eternity. So it has the same penalty, but is more likely, and therefore dominates SIFSM, practico-epistemically.

However, now we have to set ECT-affirming Christianity and ECT-affirming Islam side by side. So how can we tell what to do? Should we form a saving relationship with Jesus, God who became a man, son of God? Or with Allah, the one who has no equals? Arguably, the penalty and reward for both are both infinite and equal, ECT and paradise. Now how can we tell which one to favor practico-epistemically? Are we reduced to flipping a coin and hoping for the best?

At this point, I would like to bring in MSLN and say, "look, MSLN can give us a lot of evidence in favor of Christianity, so we should favor ECT-affirming Christianity". On some level, this makes sense. In a religious sense, I (as an MSLN Christian) feel more kinship with those ECT-affirming Christians who are really shaped by Jesus' teachings than I do with Muslims. But, is it really "legal" to use MSLN to do that in this case? MSLN rules out ECT. So if the idea is to have a Christian worldview that teaches ECT which logically dominates all the others which teach ECT, so that people can pick one right (hell-safe) worldview, can we support that worldview with auxiliary arguments that deny ECT?

I'll step back for a minute and consider, what's at stake here? If people don't believe Christianity is true, there is some increased risk of them not accepting Jesus in this life and going to a hell of ECT (traditional, ECT-affirming Christianity) or becoming hardened to the voice of Jesus in this life or in the Millennium (New Wine Christianity). If they don't believe SIFSM is true, perhaps they are similarly at risk of ECT. SIFSM seems exceedingly unlikely to me (especially because I haven't found any arguments in favor of it, have only just asserted the image of it -- it only hypothetically has evidence in favor of it). But because it favors ECT, it can seem like a greater threat than the far more likely MSLN. If people did not put their practico-epistemic trust in MSLN, in favor of SIFSM, and they took this to an extreme, completely turning toward SIFSM and away from MSLN, they would probably be annihilated, all to avoid a distantly-likely infinite threat.

One natural way out of this is to say "Okay, I'm pretty sure that MSLN is true, but I'll stay away from those forbidden dishes. Who knows, maybe I can keep from experiencing eternal food poisoning that way". However, when we bring in something like Islam into the picture, we now find ourselves practico-epistemically encouraged to... worship both Allah and Jesus? In the old days, the people of God often tried to do that kind of thing, and God was not happy. Somehow God expects us to be able to figure out that he's the one for us without us betting a little in favor of the saving power of all the others. This exclusivity over against hedging is something that I expect is operative in Islam as well.

One "supernatural" way out ("supernatural" in a Weilian sense, maybe), is to say that ECT and annihilation are red herrings. Hell is a big distraction. True well-being is to love. Even if you get trapped in ECT, if you really love, then you are truly fortunate. So if we're weighing Likelihood against Threat, ask yourself if the threats even matter. Annihilation prevents you from loving, but ECT does not (arguably). Neither of them prevent you from becoming a loving person "NOW", in this life. In the book of your life, you can always make the best choices you can. Perhaps even likelihood can be ignored (at least as an absolute in determining practical epistemology), and all that's left is to say "what is genuinely beautiful, and more important than that, what is genuinely true? If I'm not looking for what is true according to my own fears, desires, etc., but only for truth in itself, what do I see?" Likelihood has some connection to that, but threat does not.

And yet what is love if not (in part) to protect others (or yourself) from threats? Maybe the real threat is to not learn to love "NOW". This is in keeping with MSLN. But hell (historically, the threat of ECT; or in MSLN, the threat of punishment and annihilation) is a useful doctrine (and reality) in helping some of those at greatest risk of hardening to turn toward God. We don't necessarily all value love of God for itself at first.

What this might mean is that for some, hell is and has been convincing in a way that leads them to love God, so it's a good thing. But for those who understand somewhat more, it creates issues such as the possibility of something like the SIFSM. But then those who understand more than that see that Likelihood dominates Threat, when we define the real threat to be not being in line with the truth that is orthogonal to well-being, which turns out to be God.

--

This all has some bearing on how to understand the metaphysical organism argument. Part of that argument says that there is some (I would now say "non-Pascalian") chance that God exists, given the issue of consciousness vs. matter and how there's some reason to think that the Metaphysical Organism's existence could settle it. So we should act like God exists, if it is not costly. But should we act as though the Father, or Allah, or Krishna, or the SIFSM, or...? exist, based only on the metaphysical organism argument? One action that argument recommends is prayer, as well as a "costless" trust. Do we pray to all of them, or trust in all of them? Arguably, to fully trust God, we must go all in on some path of trusting him. But the metaphysical organism argument, by itself, does not warrant us choosing any particular God (so long as that God conforms to the description of the Metaphysical Organism -- currently, of the gods listed above, only the Christian Father as found in MSLN / the New Wine System fits the description). So if we are MO-only believers, we should pray to "the true God, whoever you are". That way, whatever God really exists, we will have been praying to him/her/etc. all along. That God will want us to understand him/her/etc. better and provide ways to do that, when the right time comes.

--

But then, I keep thinking, isn't either a Muslim or Christian ECT possible, and shouldn't we warn people away from it? I am okay with saying that my own eternal well-being is less important than seeking what is true apart from Threat, and learning to love no matter my experiential circumstance. But what about other people's eternal well-being?

So I think there could be more thinking done here.

One possible route is to explore if there are non-MSLN reasons to prefer either ECT-affirming Christianity or ECT-affirming Islam (or some Hindu or Buddhist equivalent?). This sounds like a lot of work, to understand these religions enough to say one is better than another, and is not my first choice to find an answer here.

A second possible route is to consider the possibility that Reformed epistemology is invalid, or not valid enough. Reformed epistemology says that we have noetic perceptions of God, and those beliefs are good enough to make the resulting beliefs in God rational, for some definition of "rational". Presumably Muslims have noetic perceptions of God. Do we have any solid evidence for revelation (the Bible or Quran) apart from "faith" (a belief produced in us supernaturally by God, which is itself a perception of God)? This version of "faith" may turn out to be in a Pascalian situation (there could be as many believable gods as there are people who bother to invent them), and if so, we have no reason to trust either the Bible or the Quran as revelation, just from that "faith" belief. So whatever the books say about ECT isn't something that can threaten us. Then to choose between the two, we would look to some kind of reason, perhaps a natural theology like MSLN, to choose which one to follow.

(One could say that perhaps Christianity and Islam contain within them people who have these arguably-supernatural "faith" beliefs, but that these beliefs do not arise on command for some religion-inventor. But in the future, maybe we will be able to engineer such belief-experiences, which will be taken as the occasions for God (or the IFSM or SIFSM, etc.) to touch our minds. So then we will still be able to invent some kind of reason to believe in whatever beliefs a religion can contain.)

Or is it possibly the case that both Christians and Muslims see God noetically, and are seeing the same being, whose real nature they disagree about, but neither of them noetically see (with the same justification as the "basic belief" in God) that ECT is valid? (ECT in this scenario would have to be something added on, by certain readings of the Bible or Quran, to the basic undifferentiated theistic faith derived by noetic perception.)

If we are in a basically Pascalian situation with respect to ECT, we will need stronger evidence (Likelihood) to get an answer of what to do, practically.

I would think it very strange to think that noetic perception is not at all valid, and that if it is valid, that perceptions of God (or of anything) in a noetic way yield absolutely no evidence that such things are real. But on the other hand, while I found Reformed epistemology (my source for the concept of "noetic perception"; as read about in Plantinga's Warranted Christian Belief) to be helpful when I was younger, I also found it vaguely dissatisfying, and perhaps at this point in my life I would be better able to figure out why. Exactly how far can noetic perception go? Does Reformed epistemology equally justify Islam (or other belief systems)? Re-reading Warranted Christian Belief was already seeming interesting to me, and this is another vote in favor of doing that.

The third route to go is to explore, just what are the "axioms" of ECT? What are all the truths that must be true for us to even have the situation of being threatened by ECT? And then, once we have identified those truths, what else do they imply? In math (if I understand correctly), if you properly understand addition, you have to understand some basic axioms. Then, once you understand those axioms, you can build new things, which are not addition, and which you couldn't directly get from addition. But (I think) the validity of addition implies the validity of the things derived from addition's axioms. This is the most attractive of the three routes (as of today [the day I wrote that draft]), and so I hope to have something to say on the topic in a later post or posts.