Vanishing

Media overflows with dire stories of extinction. I walk fields and woods here on Long Island frequently, and I find some wildlife does remain. But it is sparse, and from my own observations diminishing. Oh, there are lots of some things – seagulls, ospreys, geese, deer, chipmunks, squirrels and (unfortunately) ticks. But no turtles or snakes. Few butterflies, dragonflies, or insects of any type. Far less swallows than even a few years ago. Even mosquitoes are scarce, now that all our affluent neighbors spray their yards constantly.

I’m quite aware of the anecdotal nature of my experience. Perhaps there are other locations – even on this crowded Island – where species of all kinds thrive. I can only note that my own perception seems to match that of the wider narrative.

To be honest, I do not much miss the mosquitoes, although I do regret that the bats, swallows, and dragonflies that fed on them are no longer to be seen. The price of “progress”. I never actually saw the vanished lobsters in the harbor, even as I note how clam, oyster, and mussel shells are almost absent from the sandy beaches. There are, after all, still fish and lots and lots of algae.

A tiny area of a changing planet. Nostalgia no doubt honey coats my memories, but I still think the good old days when wildlife was abundant was a much more beautiful and meaningful world.

Mount Hope

We recently visited Mount Hope cemetery in Rochester. This was once a major pilgrimage site about civil rights and women’s voting, since both Susan B Anthony and Frederick Douglass are buried there. We dutifully trudged through some overgrown hilly rambles.

I knew this was a “sister” cemetery to Mount Auburn in Cambridge, where Joan and I had frequently bicycled to spend a pleasant afternoon when we were young and poor. Those manicured grounds gave every indication of being an English estate for dead people temporarily residing underground. Everyone ignored the names on markers and mausoleums and simply enjoyed the quiet nooks and vistas.

I’d expected something similar at Mount Hope. But I was rather reminded of an old oil painting series of “empire at its height”, “empire in ruins”. You could detect that the initial spirit was the same, but Rochester lost its economic and spiritual power. Very like visiting the remains of the Roman forum as shown in 18th century pictures.

Perhaps there is a lesson here. Although I admit I take lessons from all cemeteries – new, old, well kept, overgrown, even forgotten. It’s always about mortality, insignificance, human spirit, and hope. Not necessarily in that order nor equally strong, depending on my mood.

I’m grateful for the physical reminder. Ashes may better fit a crowded throw away civilization, but there is a certain morbid joy in encountering such forgotten past lives. A useful humility. A surprising reassurance that my own life is okay. Weeds and all.

Outsourcing Existence

Humans are not a solitary species. A baby alone dies. Most hermits at any age also do, or more rarely eke out a miserable existence. Self-sufficiency is fine only in moderation. We’ve no doubt been outsourcing since the discovery that specialization is useful, even when separating the hunters from the gatherers. Since then barter economies and all the rest have followed almost inevitably, often driven by technological change.

There have been protests that we’ve gone too far. Ancient Greeks regretted that we outsourced our strong memory to writing. Conservatives wept as manly yeomen farmers became effete potters in a city, unable to grow grain or milk cows. Today many fear that having work done by machines will destroy society.

I agree. But only to a point.

I’m not quite a luddite, but I’ve often found it more satisfying to do things for myself rather than outsource tasks to others. I like to do my yard work, I enjoy cooking. I often manufacture my own entertainment by creating or fixing things.

The key is, of course, that I CHOOSE to do so. I don’t want to be forced to cook or mow, or for that matter to harvest grain and milk cows.

Many have begun to fear the effects of AI. Will we outsource all of our intellectual skills to silicon, outsource experience to virtual environments, outsource body health to medicine and drugs? Outsource existence itself, so there is nothing left but an empty ignorant fluff ball.

I don’t know.

On the other hand that does sound a lot like the original garden of Eden.

Robust AI

There is real danger in AI – as there is in any technology on which civilization depends – and it is already present. Its current abilities can be used by bad people to learn how to do awful things, including eliminate lots of others or destroy countries. We can imagine it used to create plagues, wreck trade, or start nuclear wars. However, in itself, destroying humanity by becoming a supermind overlord seems quite unlikely. There are two reasons for that.

One is that there are many AI actors already, and it’s increasingly likely they could turn against one another if directed to do so. They live in a physical ecosystem in which they can hardly shelter from one another without becoming ineffectual themselves.

The second is the ecosystem itself. Servers, optical fibers, satellites, power sources. Hard to see how any overmind could transition to full physical power without being stopped by organic entities using various kinds of violence. The world, after all, is large, and humans numerous, nasty and independently operating units.

That fragility is also a danger to AI use. If all the food is produced by AI, it is simple for catastrophe to end the food supply. If transportation depends on AI, ditto.

Human networks, for all their faults, are robust, self repairing, and handle new problems pretty well. Silicon, not so much.

Adversarial Justice

Once upon a time we were taught the glories of the jury system, adversarial justice with lawyers jousting, and the concept of innocent until proven guilty. Those worked remarkably well in the good old days, but times have changed. Look at it one by one.

Juries are a huge inconvenience to most people, and are rarely necessary. Certainly not 12 people in person listening to arcane arguments. Then the adversarial system itself, expensive as hell, courts and judges and lawyers where those with the most money usually win, and in any case the proceedings themselves are too theatrical and slimy to give real satisfaction of justice done. And as for innocent until proven guilty – just a defense lawyer lie. Filmed evidence, revealed details of previous crimes, all the crap of the 12th century hardly relevant in an era of photography, cell phone locations, and DNA.

Actually, that is why a lot of trials end up in plea deals.

Now I know all evidence can be manufactured or falsified. But in most situations that’s hardly worth the effort. At this point, perhaps we should ease back on worrying about letting hundreds go free lest one innocent be convicted. The odds have changed.

Just another example of how our ancient constitution and irrelevant traditions betray society in the modern world. The whole thing should be taken apart, streamlined, and rethought. Taking into account technology and an interconnected world. Time to leave the methodology of the 12th century behind.

Boredom

Our 10-year-old grandson has been surrounded by every exotic age-appropriate toy from the cradle on. Today he largely disappears into cyberspace. Nevertheless, for a few years now, he will suddenly stop what he is doing and claim “I’m bored”.

Depression, ennui, boredom are all related. I assume they must have evolved for some reason. After all, other mental states like pain, hunger, sleepiness or even love have at least a purpose we can guess at. But what possible survival boost could being bored offer?

In fact, at first glance, boredom would seem to be an anti-survival skill. You’re sitting safe and comfortably when you are goaded to expose yourself to possible danger. Often it is better to do nothing.

And then there is the extremely strange resolution pattern. Many things can be tried with no result. Still bored. But a little later the same activity might seem very interesting. Weird.

I haven’t a clue. Like everyone else, I just throw ideas at depression, ennui, or boredom. I try various tasks with only partial and temporary success. Then – I get fully interested.

Until the next time.

Illusion

Our brain does an amazingly good job of organizing random photon bounces into a meaningful and useful construction of objects in our world. Sometimes, of course, it can be mistaken and create an illusion.

An illusion is anything that cannot be confirmed by other senses, logic, or outside observers. Upon examination, what we thought was a snake in the grass may turn out to be a vine (or vice versa!) Consistent verification by alternate means yields what we call a fact.

Agreeing with others’ opinions does not necessarily dispel illusions. Many of us may believe there is a snake when there is none. One viewpoint with one sense is not fully reliable, even for a group.

There has always been an equivalent problem with knowledge, writing, culture. How can we determine illusion? Does it matter anyway? If Alexander the Great is a myth, not real in a factual sense, does it affect me? Who cares? A lot of facts are (in fact) pretty irrelevant.

Today we are fed illusions by the bushel. The internet is filled with influencer sorcerers weaving visions. For most of them we have no way to test validity except with the opinions of others. Is anything we think we know a “fact” or an “illusion”.

Yet, we act on illusions all the time. I may run away from our imaginary snake. A whole mob may run away from an imaginary dangerous illusion. We vote based on compelling illusionary advertising.

Perhaps that’s no more dangerous than it ever was. Most cultured belief has always been of that nature. There is comfort in believing that an untested cohesive illusion is fact. At some point, we may be shocked to encounter factual reality

Sometimes

We are blessed with a mercurial mind. Sometimes, for example, we feel a mastery of our particular universe. Other times we feel helpless. Sometimes we drift entirely out of this time and space, vividly imagining things that never were nor will be.

It’s a gift of our strange over-developed consciousness. Perhaps even an evolutionary trick to comfort us through pain and hard times, when pure logic would surrender and die. A reminder that no matter how sophisticated we may consider ourselves, we truly exist in not one, but infinite (and infinitely varied) dream times.

Ask me what I know of the future and I would honestly answer “nothing”. But that does not prevent me from sometimes imagining possibilities or what is likely to happen. These visions may inspire or terrify, make me wish I could stick around to find out, or be grateful I will never endure. As I said, mercurial.

Sometimes I do in fact believe I have lived in the best of all possible worlds. An easily disproved conceit. I worry about how things have changed: climate, AI, society. And yet, when I try, I remember so many things I once worried about that never came to pass. Sometimes even the nostalgic past can be a mirage.

While life continues, sometimes also, in its astounding variety and kaleidoscopic fractals.

Work is Meaning

There have been many answers to the ancient question “what is the meaning and purpose of life”. I am sure, unless you are a dedicated fanatic, that you can come up with many. Possibly the silliest – currently ruling American society – is that the answer is “work”.

Supposedly that can be traced to the country’s “Protestant ethic” heritage, but as a modest student of history I know that for masses of people – and the common attitude – this was rarely so. There was religion, morality, social progress, and a lot of other noble stuff, as well as less articulated hedonism, happiness, and just getting by.

But today the Orwellian elites have not only seized control of the means of production, but also dictate mythology. Now “work” as they define it is the only virtue. Lack of such work is evil and should be wiped out. Even mindless sanctified work is SO much better than meditation or playing a flute in a tree (unless of course you don’t much want to meditate or toot that flute – work is defined as “forced to do something you don’t want to do”.)

So, madly, we are driven to consider exercise, happiness, consumption, existence itself as meaningless useless wastes of time unless they involve “work”. “Work”, anyway as defined by the myth makers, which somehow always involves coercion and money to yield a spiritual result.

I suspect in the long run alternative answers might be better.

Humpty Dumpty

Louis Carroll had Humpty Dumpty state “words mean what I want them to mean, neither more nor less”. Orwell expanded this into the political realm (“war is peace”) following the Nazis (“work is freedom”). We are living in a time when the meaning of words is as fluid as water.

On the one hand are the straight reversals. “I am honest” claims the dishonest politician. “I’m not a crook” the crook tells us earnestly. And – worse than that _ what do we mean by “honest” or “crook?” And by extension and implication isn’t everyone?

Then there are the all-encompassing labels, when simple values or statements are branded as signals for so much more – usually evil. These are at least our traditional – “traitors”, “communists”, ” “woke”. By making any small idea (“police should be less brutal”) into a monolithic conspiracy including all ideas that the speaker does not like, conversation becomes impossible.

Obviously, when everyone from rulers to influencers to your mother-in-law, neighbor, and children can make any words mean whatever they want, communication cannot happen. Language has been a glory of our species.

In the old days, different languages sounded quite distinct. Now they all sound the same but are incomprehensible except to other members of your tribe.

We all know what happened to Humpty Dumpty.