Topsy-turvy: "I think your point of view is escapist, that it's comforting to not have to face the pointlessness of the universe by making up stories and Gods to avoid the burden of trying to define your own moral code and justify your own life to yourself. It's easier just to assume that Someone made you and cares about you and is providing guidelines for your life, rather than face the Abyss every day and wonder why there's a cliff to look at it from. Or worse, to accept that the cliff is just there, and for all you really Know might crumble under you any day, and keep on walking and looking and not just surrender and jump." A bleak view of the universe, I readily admit, but that's the point. From what I can see it is a true one, and it is only honest to face it if one can. So I walk.
Or another angle: life isn't the problem, dying is the problem. If I
knew that I could live until the end of eternity I wouldn't have any
problems with the point of my life; I'd be a god, always extant. I
might be bored, but there's always an ultimate solution for that. The
problems is that I'll probably die in a few decades, and even if I don't
the universe itself seems likely to run down. At some point not only
will I be gone, but all I knew and built, and none will come after to
remember. To which the Christian cries "How can you live?" And I
reply, how not? What am I supposed to do, kill myself?
Think about it.
"The green hills of Ulster, the white causeway high
Also see For those I loved
So begins A Fire Upon the Deep, and so begins my letter. I
cannot deny that I have been lazy and stupid in handling my classes.
There is no real defense; I simply have been. But you have accused me
of not having dreams and this is quite false. I said that I wished to be
a god, or raise one, and I meant this quite literally, apart from the
fact that "god" is not the best word. "Power" would be more like it,
although less well-known.
We are becoming able to manipulate matter on smaller and smaller scales.
A few years ago IBM researchers spelled out "IBM" with individual atoms.
Cells of course perform atomic and molecular engineering every moment of
our lives. It is likely that at some point we will have the power to
build anything which can be built out of atoms -- total control over the
structure of matter. But this is not the godhead.
A fair amount of research is going into understanding the principles of
life, to build our own successful and useful self-reproducing systems.
As Dyson wrote the utility of these seems ridiculous. One could build
one complex robot and send it out and terraform Mars in a century. If
one person could send out loyal reproducers into the universe some time
before everyone else she could effectively conquer the reachable
universe for the price of one reproducing slave. This is somewhat
godlike, but not the heart.
We are both materialists, I believe. From this it follows that
intelligence and consciousness are based on matter and its patterns of
organization -- its incorporated information. Then, unless some
Godelian blind spot crops up to haunt us, we should be able to
understand the mechanisms of intelligence, consciousness, and even
creativity. What we understand we can reproduce, play with, manipulate.
AI here grows from merely making human level intelligences to making
superior human intelligences, or even truly transhuman ones. Learn why
an Einstein is an Einstein, a Crick a Crick, and combine them. Or learn
why a Hofstadter or Minksy is what it is and expand that, to make
the process of intelligence learning about itself feed upon itself,
accelerating without known bound. This is the technodivinity.
It may be, of course, that there is no real organization much beyond the
human level. Then again, for all we know there may be. Certain groups
of humans accomplish more than individual ones: science is largely a
group creative process. Quite likely something can be formed of human
level sentiences more tightly bound than in civilization, to create
something greater, a slime mold of consciousness. (I admire slime
molds, not that I've ever seen one.) One graspable example: we know
that information is not knowledge, that it must be known, incorporated
first, and that we cannot absorb everything at once. (Issues Hofstadter
is exploring with his fluid model of perception.) The
omniscience above may perhaps be the ability of a Power to
know all that it senses, or at least to approach such an ideal
much more than we can.
The point is, at the moment all of this seems plausible, and if there are to
be locally omniscient, all-controlling, and universe-grabbing Powers
walking around, I want to be one of them, not one under them. If that
is not possible, I would like to leave my mark by raising one and
sending out my own godchild to shape the universe in my own image and
dream, and not another's, especially given what many others are. And
the darker elements of this dream, that I might myself be subsumed by a
newborn Power, is yet the one thing that can slip past my dedication to
being and remaining alive. Apotheosis, even partial, may be worth it.
And yes, this is science fiction. It is not real, hence
fiction, yet based on and extrapolated from science. And the book
quoted at the beginning is science fiction of the first, defining, and
justifying class. Normal fiction illuminates the human condition; the
best SF illuminates the transhuman condition. This is my dream; nor is
it a nova of a few months ago, for the seeds were planted before I came
to Caltech and have been growing here, not that Caltech has directly had
anything to do with that.
So what do I want to do? Get there from here, or help pave the way. AI
seems to be the best and motivating bet. I don't know the details yet;
I should talk to my advisor (carefully selected for being the most
broadminded planetary scientist I could find) soon. Perhaps I will
apply for grad school, even, although probably not immediately. I will
probably be pulling short term resources for a while -- "clerical"
computer jobs, for example. But I do have a goal which I think is even
quite realistic. All I have to do is figure out the paths, and overcome
this ingrained inertia and laziness. I'll be working on that this year.
And I hope you understand this dream, and that I have not been explaining
ultraviolet to the blind.
The beacon of Warshal throws its flame to the sky
The hunt and the threat let the coward abjure
Our hope is in God and in Rory O'Moore!"
-- Rory O'Moore by Wolfe Tones, a song about the Irish
resistance against the British. Or an Irish resistance, as they failed
a lot -- but the Irish didn't stop. (The fact that the IRA is
still going, or was until recently, is a separate issue.)
"How to explain? How to describe? Even the omniscient viewpoint
quails."
Back to Me.