Imagining Transparent Iron and Other Crazy Things

There are some real doozies of arguments that have tied up religious and philosophical thinkers for centuries. Take the Kalam Cosmological Argument or the Ontological Argument. In both of these arguments there is a required reduction of the properties of the universe (or cosmos) to some kind of skeletal representation. In Kalam (and variants) there are assumptions built into the idea of nothingness, for instance, that have no relationship to what we know about the actual cosmos now—specifically that there is no example of such a thing; even in vacuums there are pervasive quantum fields and we have no clear scientific evidence or theories that point to a “philosopher’s nothingness.” In the Ontological Argument, there is the assumption that possibility and existence are inherently combined together, regardless of whether we are talking about a concept of God or a real thing in or supporting the existence of the cosmos. Another example of this philosophical craziness is in the modal argument for the existence of philosophical zombies, where there are people just like us in every way but lacking a phenomenal experience of being conscious beings.

There is a category of thought called “modal skepticism” that argues we should be cautious about making assumptions about things extremely outside of ordinary experience. Whether it’s the properties of gods or nothingness or consciousness, the trouble arises when trying to sketch out the properties that apply to these things. Even before modal logic in its modern form, Kant argued that existence is not a predicate and therefore the existence of God can’t be contained in an a priori definition of God. We are making an incorrect assumption. In Kalam, nothingness is not definable in a way that meaningfully separates it from a posteriori discoveries about the cosmos, where it does not seem to exist.… Read the rest

After Z

 

The nights and days collide with violence. There is the nocturnal me and the dazed, daylight version squinting away from the glaring windows. There are the catnaps that lace with riotous algebras. I am addicted to caffeine, or run on it, until even it becomes unpersuasive, and I droop over at the keyboard. Then this pulse of creation pulls me out again, stunned for a few beats, and I grasp my mug and stumble back to the lab floor.

Z keeps changing, day by day, midnights into dawns, and reawakening in clanging novelty. Z is for “zombie,” for it is in the uncanny valley of both a physical and cogitating thing. It perceives, stands, jogs in place beside me on the laboratory floor, an ochre braid of wires bouncing in a dreadlock mass behind it. Z plays chess, folds towels (how hard that was!), argues politics (how insane is that one!), and constantly restructures nuances in its faces and gestures. Sometimes I’m tired and Z is an impertinent teenager. Often there are substitutions and semantic scrambling like a foreigner who mistakes a word for another, then carries on in a fugue of incoherence.

There is a half-acre of supercooled GPUs to the north of the lab where the hot churn of work is happening. It’s a spread of parallel dreamscapes, each funneled the new daily stimuli, stacking them into a training pool, then rerunning the simulations, splitting and recombining, then trying again to minimize the incoherency, the errors, and the size of the model. Of the ten thousand fermenting together, one becomes the new Z for a few hours, but then is gone again by morning, replaced by a child of sorts that harbors the successes but sheds the excesses and broken motifs.… Read the rest

Deep Zombies

There is a slang nominal form of the word “deepening” for when a person seems to be purposefully adding awe, mystery, and unknowns to their arguments: deepenings. It often arises in discourse on religion and mystical experiences. As a child in the 70s we had Bigfoot, Nessy, the Bermuda Triangle, UFOs, near-death experiences, and the strange stuff from Velikovsky, von Däniken, and Sitchin. The books and movies built deepenings into communities and businesses just as surely as Catholicism, Mormonism, or Scientology have done. There is a human desire for mystery. But it doesn’t make the mysteries true. But many religious folks hold on to thin threads that point towards mystery as an added data point for justifying their faiths as real, true, valuable, and beautiful.

Given this, I was curious about David Bentley Hart’s All Things are Gods: The Mysteries of Mind and Life after Ross Douthat praised it at New York Times. It’s a big book and I’ve just skimmed around a fair bit so far, but there is a repetition of an error (among the extensive repetitions in the volume) concerning the mind-body problem that is also related to arguments from Alvin Plantinga concerning evolution. Specifically, the notion of philosophical zombies is largely irrelevant I think to claiming that subjective experience (“what it’s like…”) is non-material or of a distinct nature from the brain and the nervous system. Given what we know about evolutionary development, I don’t think that we can even conceive of a p-zombie in the way it was originally proposed.

We might try to imagine an evolutionary development of homo sapiens that does not include this subjective experience, but that would not lead to an identical human sans the qualia-experiencer because the developmental trajectory would have to be different, resulting in differing brains.… Read the rest