Just the grand theories, please

Philosophy should not be about any and all kinds of knowledge minutiae; its defining mark should be the desire to understand everything all at once.


Amazing Santayana quote on skepticism

Wait, let me first share something I wrote:

To reach the sought-for starting point, Neurath’s ship has to face its destiny in the storm of skepticism — its shipwrecked crew will drift ashore an unexpected land of fiction and speculation. Here they can regroup, build shipyards, and set up bases for new explorations, by land and by sea.

Ok, pardon that feeble attempt at being poetical. I’ll make up for it immediately by giving you this, the most satisfying passage I’ve read in a long time:

The Indians, in asserting the non-existence of every term in possible experience, not only free the spirit from idolatry, but free the realm of spirit (which is that of intuition) from limitation; because if nothing that appears exists, anything may appear without the labour and expense of existing; and fancy is invited to range innocently — fancies not murdering other fancies as an existence must murder other existences. While life lasts, the field is thus cleared for innocent poetry and infinite hypothesis, without suffering the judgement to be deceived nor the heart enslaved.

It is from George Santayana’s excellent book Scepticism and Animal Faith (p. 53).

Bonus quotes, added later:

[A] mind enlightened by scepticism and cured of noisy dogma, a mind discounting all reports, and free from all tormenting anxiety about its own fortunes or existence, finds in the wilderness of essence [-- equivalent to what I call "virtuality"] a very sweet and marvellous solitude. The ultimate reaches of doubt and renunciation open out for it, by an easy transition, into fields of endless variety and peace, as if through the gorges of death it had passed into a paradise where all things are crystallised into the image of themselves, and have lost their urgency and their venom. (p. 76)

All essences and combinations of essences are brother-shapes in an eternal landscape; and the more I range in that wilderness, the less reason I find for stopping at anything, or for following any particular path. Willingly or regretfully, if I wish to live, I must rouse myself from this open-eyed trance into which utter scepticism has thrown me. I must allow subterranean forces within me to burst forth and to shatter that vision. I must consent to be an animal or a child, and to chase the fragments as if they were things of moment. But which fragment, and rolling in what direction? I am resigned to being a dogmatist; but at what point shall my dogmatism begin, and by what first solicitation of nature? [...] (p. 111)


The reality illusion

Imagine an ideal world. Or a personal dystopia of some kind. Or just some random imagined place or situation. You probably have no problem whatsoever conjuring up at least the vague beginnings of such worlds in your imagination, and given some time, you’ll probably be able to elaborate quite a lot on them, without any further guidelines. Now, here’s a question I’d like you to think about: What is the relation between your imagined worlds and the real world? It’s an awkward question, and I guess you are at a loss for how to deal with it properly. Perhaps your most immediate response would be to start looking for similarities and differences, something which would result in a list of realistic and unrealistic properties of the imagined worlds. But this isn’t the kind of relation I’d like to have established, as you probably suspect. The question is ontological. What I want to know, to be specific, is what kind of world the real world is, what kind of world an imagined one is, and whether or not the latter can be reduced to the former.

We could take a reductionist approach: What are the respective worlds made of?

Reality, at least as far as science have been able to discover so far, is made of leptons, quarks and bosons with completely incomprehensible properties. Space and time is somehow interconnected, and there might be quite a few additional dimensions to the four we actually (if indirectly) do perceive. It’s an exceedingly strange world, far bigger, older and more complicated than any pre-scientific thinkers dared to suggest.

I think imaginary worlds can be separated into components as well, but doing this requires some care to avoid having one’s imagination start detailing further as one investigates. Take an imagined tree for instance: One might not originally have given the color and texture of the tree beneath the bark any thought. Therefore, filling this in would be tampering with the subject matter under investigation. A better approach would be to label the insides of the tree as “undefined”. Only the appearance of the tree was originally rendered, and this “skin” we might do well to define as one of the separate components we were looking for. Other components might include individual leaves or branches, if the level of detail in the imagined scene is sufficiently high. If not, the tree crown might be found to be defined in imagination as a whole. As a general principle, the imagined world is optimized for fast rendering in the mind, not for accurate modelling of whatever elements of reality it happens to imitate.

In one sense, it does seem perfectly plausible that the latter kind of world is reducible to the real world, as the organs presumably responsible for creating mentality are made of real stuff, with no supernatural components. A perfect theory should be able to account not only for the normal stuff of physics like matter and electricity etc., but even the far more elusive nature of mind. Thus, it seems very plausible to declare that the ontological domain of reality includes that of imaginary worlds.

But in another sense, the only reality we have access to — the one described above — is but a set of accepted beliefs rendered in mind. True reality is not to be equated with what in fact is merely a set of beliefs, even when these beliefs are perfectly reasonable and confirmed by all currently available empirical evidence. If we truly believe that mind is created somehow by computational activity of leptons, quarks and bosons (or whatever), we have to admit that the reality we can perceive, think about and talk about must be on the same level of ontological status as completely fictional, imaginary worlds. That the latter is not encompassed by the former, but that they are both encompassed by the ontological domain of an unknown true reality beyond the reach of mind.

We mistake our beliefs for reality all the time. In fact, that is essential for how our minds work, because our brains have limited resources and have to optimize for the greatest possible efficiency in the tasks we set ourselves to. So the illusion is our friend, as it saves us a lot of headache in most practical areas. But in certain theoretical areas, philosophy prominently among them, it is an obstacle we have to be very aware of. Philosophers should strive to become thoroughly acquainted with the reality illusion, to master it in the sense of being able to brake or restore it at will, as per required by practical and theoretical circumstances encountered. And what’s more, they should come up with theoretical accounts of mind and reality that can make sense of this aspect of our human situation.

This, I think, is what should be the defining role of philosophy.

The Treachery of Perception


Fundamentals, part 1 of a few

What is the starting point of philosophy? Where do we begin? This is a badly posed question, because we have already begun. Thought structures surround us on all sides, and the ones that haven’t been constructed yet can easily be summoned in the mind as hypotheticals. There’s no practical problem in beginning thought. The problem is that of finding a suitable criterion discerning the useful from the useless or harmful — the things we would do well to invest with belief and the things we should resist having belief in. And there is no good reason such criteria should be focused exclusively on the roots of thought — we’ve realized a long time ago that philosophy cannot be a deductive system similar to mathematics (even though this would indeed be prettier). The fruits of thought structures might instead be the decisive point of justification in philosophy, like it is in empirical science.

Finding themselves in this forest of actual and possible thought structures, the ancient dogmatists came up with a very special kind of criterion: Thought should strive to conform with truth – implying that a thought structure can be true, specifically in the sense of corresponding to reality. This claim is nothing less than postulating an ontological domain beyond that of mind, where there is no “forest of mistakes”, only a single structure of reality, to which the (actual or possible) true structure of thought by some miracle corresponds, as illustrated here:

Untrue thoughts and beliefs should, in the view of dogmatic realists such as these, be combated. The entire forest of mistakes should be cut down and burnt, or at least ignored. A thinking mind convinced of this consequently makes a desert of its surroundings. And as it grows brighter, no light is shed on the whereabouts of the sought-for “oasis of truth” — instead, the desert expands! It becomes painfully obvious that the only way to get the thirst for it quenched is to give in to unthinking belief, i.e. superstition.

Something is fundamentally wrong with this “realism”. The end result is unbearable enough, but already the criterion of reality-correspondence is deeply flawed, as it depends on prior belief in a particular one of the thought structures it is supposed to judge between. Put as a general statement, what this means is that at this level of thought, the most fundamental level, the ontological domain of reality cannot legitimately be postulated, much less the actual accord of a particular one thought structure with the structure of reality. We can’t presuppose mind-external reality, plain and simple. The only kind of reality we have access to is the idea of reality. Everything beyond that is speculative (although plausible) postulation – which, of course, is perfectly useful at other, more lenient levels of thought.

All fundamental criteria must work entirely within the domain of mentality. One may very well entertain the idea of mind-transcendent reality, but the criteria for separating good or useful thought structures from bad or useless ones cannot take the search beyond the limits of mind. All we have to work with is this:

Neither empirical science on the one hand nor mathematics on the other depend on realism in the sense used above. Philosophy would do well to free itself as well, and make realism a merely speculative topic, disallowing it to interfere with the fundamentals. In fact, philosophy should open the gates to even the most so-called “anti-realistic” corners of the forest. There are great treasures to be found, and much needed resources that have been condemned or ignored for too long, in particular on the mythical front. Philosophy can and should find its future role in the re-exploration and re-colonization of these lands, which Aristotle first abandoned, and which we’ve neglected ever since.

The dream of finding the true mental structure, the one that corresponds perfectly to the structure of reality, has, in light of the last hundred years of scientific progress, come to look almost as ridiculous as the more fantastical among superstitious beliefs out there. There is an urgent need to find new ways (or rediscover old ones) for us to manage in our ever more confusing human situation. And that centrally includes coming to terms with what empirical science and mathematics really is. Or better and more general: what thought, belief, immersion and reality really is. These, then, are the complex and elusive issues I’ll try to deal with in this series of posts.

To be continued…

Please give some reactions, so I can tailor the next segment to better suit you, the tiny and just barely interested audience I imagine myself having.


Platonic Infographics

Why obsess about sentential logic and language in a time when visualization tools allow us to develop new and better ways to express thoughts? The visual language of infographics have the power to be clearer, broader and less ambiguous than sentential language, and it can offer a vision that can be shared more easily among minds, being far less dependent on interpretation.

I’m seriously wondering if studying infographics would be the best philosophical path for me right now — better than studying philosophy.

These days, I’m slowly but surely learning Illustrator, and I hope to expand to Flash and more in the future — because these tools, in this era of information, translate directly into power (in the sense of Nietzsche’s “will to power”).

I might even try to get work doing graphic design, to get paid while gaining the skillpoints I need to be able to create a philosophical work in the language of infographics. I already found a name for the sole proprietorship I’ll have to set up if I get work: “Platonic Infographics”. And in a moment of particular enthusiasm, I even bought a domain: infoplatonic.com.

The reason I’d like to associate myself with platonism, is that my own view of graphic design reminds me of Plato’s view of poetry: It is a very powerful tool that tend to be corrupting unless one actively ensures that it is wielded in the service of reason. I guess this is close to the principles of mainstream infographics as opposed to other kinds of graphic design, but I like to emphasize it anyway. And the connection to philosophy is nice as well.


Infographics in the service of philosophy

How do you express something complicated? Literal language has a very limited reach, so you’ll soon have to make use of similes, even invent new ones for your specific purpose. Alternatively, you could use the language of mathematics, but then again there are some topics, like most in philosophy, that are hard to get a quantifiable handle on. Relying heavily on logical form has the same weakness, but more disguised. Much of analytical philosophy could be deflated by eliminating every case where understanding of logical form is mistaken for understanding of the intended topic. Unless of course this topic is merely logic itself.

Both metaphorical and mathematical language has strengths and weaknesses, and both should be employed, although hopefully with the realization in mind that neither of these methods are the royal road to metaphysical reality (or whatever destination you’d like to approach). But there is another dimension to this: In sentential form, both metaphorical and mathematical language are limited, in accessibility, clarity, persuasiveness — in power. Diagrams and images can make formulas more intuitive, compact, memorable, even more communicable. Unless of course other motives are involved, as they were in the Middle Ages with mystical branch of alchemy. They were obscurantist on purpose, partly to “muddy the water so as to seem deep”, and partly because they themselves became enchanted by this spell — they intoxicated themselves on a mixture of insight and confusion (the confusion part is important for it to last longer, to never be able to complete the thought).

Alchemy of the old kind is long gone, but I imagine that a family tree can be drawn from it up to this day, where its distant heir is infographics.

Combined with presentation formats like slideshow presentations and animations, infographics is incredibly powerful. The most powerful will probably be infogames, but history hasn’t gotten to that yet. Besides, I imagine it’s really difficult to make. Which brings me to my point: I want to learn how to make infographics. I think visually, so it feels obvious that I have to learn this. Why haven’t I before? Because I’m studying philosophy, not film or journalism. Infographics and animations are a different department. I’m supposed to write clear and dry prose. Diagrams are allowed, but not a lot of them, and preferably only as supplementary to the text, which is what really counts. In most other disciplines, graphs and diagrams have a prominent place. Why not in philosophy? Certainly, infographics is something else than graphs and diagrams in that it is closer to the metaphorical end of the spectrum introduced above, but seeing as we’re already using language heavy-laden with non-mathematical similes, one of two things must be considered wrong:

  1. Either we should eliminate metaphorical language from philosophy,
  2. Or we should take the next step and paint pictures with Adobe Creative Suite rather than just with words.

And finally, here’s a couple of examples of what kind of infographics I have in mind. First off, an explanation of the credit crisis:

And, even though I don’t like the music, I have to include this music video to Røyksopp’s “Remind me” (just mute it and enjoy the infographics):

I’d love to be able to make something like this, only with topics like fictionalist metaphysics. Maybe then, I’d finally be able to communicate it to somebody.

Update: I forgot to recommend the two blogs I subscribe to on the subject: FlowingData and information aesthetics. Both great.


The Mandelbrot analogy

Skepticism does not lead to nihilism. It leads to agnosticism. This realization makes evident the fictionalist solution to the problem of skepticism: To evade the void of absolute agnosia by means of a certain leap of faith (or even just a short skip of faith).

It’s not inconsistent to be radically agnostic on an absolutely strict level while retaining a more useful outlook (such as standard materialism) on a slightly less scrupulous level, because these “levels” are parallel to each other: They do not meet, and cannot contradict each other. One mind can (and, I will argue, should) entertain a whole range of worldviews on different “levels of faith”.

I like to think about this as analogical to how fractals develop through iterations of its equation: Think of the range of worldviews as developing from completely faithless agnosticism through gradual iterations of faith. If absolute certainty is all you’ll accept, you’ll be left in absolute darkness. With a cautious number of faith iterations, the moderately admissive materialist outlook produces an image far more complex and informative than the simple “I don’t know” of radical agnosticism. At the aft end of the range, magical thinking, with its very lenient attitude with regard to faith, is capable of producing the most beautiful, intricate and exciting sorts of fiction, with the cost of sacrificing accuracy in how reality is interpreted (in fact, the interpretative pretension can be dropped altogether).

Here’s a demonstration of how a Mandelbrot fractal develops (I think it goes up to about 200 iterations in the end):

Both extremes (of doubt and faith) are far less useful than the moderate position (at least when it comes to science and most practical purposes), but they both have significant strengths as well: Radical agnosticism is philosophically interesting (in much the same way a black hole is interesting to a physicist, even though he/she has no wish to live anywhere near one), and the latter is psychedelically interesting (in the literal sense of revealing the soul). Here’s a demonstration of how incredibly deep and rich the Mandelbrot fractal can be with a whole lot of iterations (watch in high quality):

The analogy fails to capture one important factor, namely the strong correlation between faith-satiated worldviews and psychosis. Hopefully, virtualism can, if not vaccinate against it, at least build resistance to this tendency. Because faith-satiation is key to a lot of good things as well.

Here’s an explicit list of levels that I alternate between, from the strictest to the most lenient:

  • Black hole agnosticism: I’m completely and utterly agnostic about absolutely everything. I can’t say if the sun will rise tomorrow, if there’s a hippapotamus in my room, not even if 2+2 equals 4. I acknowledge no truth, not even logic. This extreme level of agnosticism would, if lived, render a person completely dysfunctional. (In a schizofrenic way, I guess.)
  • Philosophical agnosticism: Hume’s fork appears. I still don’t believe that any statement about reality is true, but math, logic and the entire virtual realm is trusted to be stable and safe. This is where I try to be when doing philosophy.
  • The rational level: I accept a lot of science as true. I’m a materialist, and try my best to disregard speculative nonsense surfacing from my subconscious. What I’m interested in is communicable general statements that are very precise in prediction. 
  • The irrational level (or range of levels): The scientific method is disregarded. I’m free to immerse myself in naive realism, practice some mental dancing, or believe in free will. As a formula: I’m a character in a play or a game where I also have producer powers (as opposed to how it is at the rational level, where I’m trying to be objective). My fictional world has to be internally consistent to some degree, but there is very lax requirements with regard to reality-fittingness. In fact, I’m almost indifferent to reality. All that matters are my circumstances, both external and internal.
  • The magical level (or range of levels): Even contradictory things can be believed. Dreams typically dive into this level. It can be very enjoyable, but the experience is usually too fragmented and confused to be of any value beside relaxation.

This picture of a range of parallel levels can make it a lot easier to avoid some of the classic mistakes, like hypostatizing ideas or allowing faith-based thinking to interfere with strict philosophy. Even the most threatening of all, that of becoming coerced by skepticism into an impoverished and bloodless worldview.


Virtualist metaphysics: Explanations and other fictions

A short discussion on Conscious Entities inspired me to compose a text too long and too off-topic to post as a comment there. So I’ll post it here, and link to it from there in case Peter or anyone else is interested. If not, at least I got a lot out of writing it myself. For context, here’s the two relevant comments from the comment thread:

My comment:

“The physicalist account of qualia is that it is, in principle, reducible to the physics of brains. But here’s a question: What brains and what physics are we talking about? Is it brains and physics as experienced interpretatively by the physical brains of neuroscientists? Or is it the true or real brains and physics themselves, which, so far at least, are far outside the grasp of science?

Physicalist monism seems plausible to me, but very impractical as a frame of mind. I’m not suggesting that we take ontological dualism seriously, but I don’t think we can dispense with some kind of dualist conception, at least not just yet. What I propose is a dualism of true reality on the one hand and virtuality on the other, the latter here being understood as the experiential or phenomenal reality rendered somehow by real brains and real physics. Viewing experience as a virtual reality in this way allows one to identify more directly with one’s experience (as opposed to thinking that a more true approach would be to do like the Churchlands and try to translate experience into neuroscientific terms), because one is this virtuality. Trying to reduce it to physics is of course crucial for science, but it is derailing for the sense of self, and unnecessarily so. Subjectivity as we know it today is not something illusory that will be disposed of once we get our theories right, but the very stuff of our subjective being. Virtuality is a kind of fiction, to be sure, but not one you can dispel without at the same time dispelling subjectivity. I’m even inclined to use the word soul in connection with virtuality, devoid of the Christian connotations of course.

I think that even when (or if) we reach a physicalist explanation of subjectivity, a virtualist or fictionalist dualism of the kind I’ve tried to sketch out will continue to play an important role for us, for practical reasons. The same practical reasons that I think lead many to fight for ontological dualism today. A future theory of subjectivity will be too complicated for our modestly equipped brains to handle, at least for practical purposes. Like quantum physics, it will be so strange and difficult that it will be irrelevant for everyone except a few frontier theorists, for whom the relevance is almost entirely theoretical and detached from the rest of their lives.

I believe that to acknowledge the value of dualism in a virtual variety would be very good for the physicalist cause. What do you think?”

Peter’s reply:

“In essence, I agree, Gorm. I don’t think many people, even materialist monists, would claim that a single account of the world can exhaust everything there is to be said about it. We certainly at least need to address the world on different levels of description – in fact, on more than just two. So in practice any sensible view of the world has at least two and usually many more aspects to it. It may well be that this is what impels people into dualism; but philosophically, dualism is one of those concepts (like omnipotence, perhaps) that is just drawn too strong to make sense, and needs dilution for safe use. So while I basically agree with your point, I wouldn’t call that dualism. It might be that the best thing would be for us all to stop worrying about whether a theory is ‘monist’ or ‘dualist’, and just discuss the theory itself.

What would be interesting would be a good attempt to explain why the world needs different levels of explanation, how many there are, how they relate, and which levels are fundamental in any particular sense (it looks as if the account given by physics is fundamental in some sense, for example). Alas, I don’t know of any good theorising along these lines that gets very far.”

And finally, my text, where start out trying to address the above problem from a virtualist point of view:

According to virtualism, there are no fundamental explanations about the world, because all explanations are in the end merely fictions that fit some relevant portion of the evidence we have available. Fittingness is not a fundamental quality of these fictions, because it is dependent on empirical investigation. The currently fitting fictions may suddenly become unfitting in light of new evidence.

Some distinctions: The kind of fictions that one tries to fit with reality should be distinguished from the kinds of fictions that are more or less indifferent to reality. A further narrowing of the former category would be those fictions that are trimmed by Occam’s razor and experimented with in accordance with the scientific method. Left out would be common sense, mysticism, religion etc, all of which are influenced by other aims than that of fitting with reality (e.g. the aim of making life more comfortable), at the same time as they are competing with science in trying to make sense of reality. (To some people, science is the obvious winner of this contest, because science is more sharply focused on the all-important fittingness issue — while to others, the unscientific theories are superior, because they allow for a more complete and habitable worldview, in that they satisfy more than just the fittingness requirement.)

To think of these different kinds of explanations in terms of degrees of truth or even degrees of fittingness, would make it into an empirical question, and like with all empirical questions, answers can only be provisional until all possible evidence has been gathered. Only then can one compare and make a final judgment about exactly how well and in what way the proposed explanatory fictions actually fit. This gathering is, of course, a task for science, not philosophy.

What philosophy should do instead is to look into the nature of fictions, stripped of their explanatory pretentions and independent of reality. The realm of philosophy, then, is virtuality, a term that includes everything – when disregarding any pretension of reflection of or correspondence with reality. That is to say, even frontier scientific theories are completely virtual, if you view them as models. The same goes for everything we can understand, even everything we can experience, because we can only understand or experience anything in terms of virtuality. This is of course a basic tenet of virtualism. (I’ll try to deal with the problem of justification near the end of this text.)

An example: Gravity. There are several theories of gravity in use in physics today, none of which are useful to our daily lives when dealing with the reality of gravity. In fact, most people live with the outdated Newtonian theory of gravity, or even the Aristotelian one. The truth of the matter is irrelevant to us in our limited circumstances. General rule: What we demand from models of reality in terms of fittingness is usually limited to what is useful in our circumstances. More information than this is cumbersome and distracting us from whatever it is that we’re doing (unless it’s theoretical physics, in which case it’s our job to find out about reality; or philosophy, in which case it’s our job to be encumbered and confused).

But circumstance-fittingness is not the only or most attractive quality in fictions. More important for us is whether or not the fiction in question allows immersion, whether it allows us to believe that it’s real. And in this, circumstance-fittingness is only one of several factors, three of the other being a) the dramaturgical quality of fictions, b) their aesthetic quality and c) our social context. All of these need a bit of explanation:

  1. What I mean by the dramaturgical quality of fictions is that fictions need to be engaging for us to be interested enough to immerse ourselves in them. Typically, a story-like fiction is what does the trick. We’d love to belive of the world that it is in fact story-like, where we play a well-defined part etc. For most of us, this is hard to take seriously, but in pre-scientific times, it was a very important factor of what fiction or set of fictions could survive.
  2. The aesthetic factor I would define as the balance of simplicity/elegance against complexity/elaborateness. Too simple is boring, too complex is overwhelming. A simple worldview needs to be stimulated by some kind of ornamentation. A difficult worldview needs to rest in minimalism.
  3. The social factor is simply that it is harder for us to really believe that our fiction is true and that we live in reality, when people around us voice conflicting beliefs. Relativism kills immersion. When our fictions and those of people around us are mutually exclusive, we have to find some resolution, in order to maintain the illusion of being in true reality. We might group up with those that agree with us, and try to battle off those who don’t. Or we can modify our beliefs to be more vague and compromising. Most often, this manouver weakens at least the dramaturgical factor and the fittingness factor, something which is felt as a severe loss — but the fiction on its own is practically worthless if we’re not able to immerse ourselves in it. So the price is paid, again and again. 

This last factor is why, together with the gradual development of civilization from tribe to city state to empire etc, cultural development has become more and more vague, abstract, distant and impersonal.

The fact that fictions are shared is what makes possible things like sports, our money system, philosophy, physics etc. All cultural things has a virtual existence that is shared by a significant number of people (things that are not shared also have a virtual existence of course, but it’s not a cultural one until it lives beyond the individual). Fictions are like programs that run on brains. Our ability to synchronously run identical or very similar programs is the bedrock of culture.

In conclusion: Privileging science is advantageous for a lot of purposes, but this privilege shouldn’t degenerate into an ontological claim. Science is in the end merely a set of tested and useful fictions. Where it’s counterproductive to apply it (e.g. where it becomes way too complicated), we should be able to go with a more practical alternative, even though it’s false in the eyes of science. Fictions have strengths and weaknesses, and we shouldn’t artificially restrict usage of them. Believing that one branch of fictions (e.g. science) is true would be exactly such a restriction. Truth about the world is not accessible to us, because everything we can say must necessarily be said in the language of fictions. The best we can have is thus justification, on the basis of fittingness or otherwise.

Virtualism itself, as a metaphysical framework, should be judged in this same light. It should be justified in empirical terms. Just like with scientific theories, metaphysical theories should be judged as more or less plausible on the basis of certain results in neuroscience, physics, AI research etc.

Metaphysics is, according to virtualism at least, the field of metafictions — the fictions that are supposed to encompass all other fictions, as the operating system of life. It may resemble religion or mysticism in that it’s speculative, but I am quite confident that a satisfactory justification can be found. And if not, well, it’s simply indispensable, so I guess I’ll have to become religious.


Epistemological phenomenalism explained

Watch these two brilliant videos:

This guy, Mike Earl, is the first living person I’ve found that agrees with me on this issue! And what’s more, his explanation is very valuable to me, in that it is far more comprehensible than my own attempts so far.

Phenomenalism is one of the two core components of virtualism, the other component being computationalism. Sadly, Mike is of a different opinion on that one.


I’ve become some kind of a Platonist

Mind consists of Forms: The brain is a machine running a software programmed with the language of Forms, and the living mind is best conceived of as a virtual reality — a continuously updated model of external reality (among other things).

Another name for the Realm of Forms is “Ideality”. But I think “virtuality” is a lot more suitable. One, because this word makes evident the connection between Platonism and computationalism, and two, because the word evokes an immersed, subjective point of view (through association with computer simulation).

Virtuality, then, is understood to be the very substance of mind. This is opposed to external reality, which is transcendent, i.e. entirely incomprehensible unless translated into the language of the Forms. Reality can’t be accessed at all except as a virtual model, constructed as an interpretation of raw sense data. In other words, we never interact with our environment directly: All of what you take for granted as external reality is in fact more correctly viewed as an incredibly powerful “virtual space of orientation”, continuously updated to fit with incoming information.

This picture seems to present an answer to the question of why physics is unable to describe reality with perfect accuracy: Because our minds are restricted to the simplicity of Forms. Our virtual models are necessarily simplistic, because of their computational restraints (limited time, energy and hardware size). Because of this, we can only hope to approximate truth. There’ll always be aspects left out by our descriptions.

I think it’s useful to think of reality-modelling as something that can be approached in a spectrum of ways, from the mathematical and unambiguous to the mythical and ambiguous. Both of these extremes have serious weaknesses, but their strengths complement eachother: Mathematics offers precision, while Mythos offers meaning. Therefore, the two approaches need to be reconciled. This, I think, is one of the most important tasks of philosophy today. And I think virtualistic epistemology can accomplish it.


Sentence

Meaning is merely an aesthetic quality.


An exploration of physicalism

Physicalism is the philosophical position which holds that all of reality, including the mind, ultimately will be accounted for by physics. Seeing that our current physics is far from approaching this ultimate point, physicalism hinges on a guess. Absurdly, it seems physicalism in fact is a metaphysical position.

A metaphysical position which I happen to hold.

Now, what follows is a simplistic exploration of my metaphysical physicalism:

1. The Big Bang occurs; the universe is created. Complexity increases for a couple of millions of years, until the original plasma has coalesced into atoms and the atoms condensed into stars etc. The evolution of material complexity decelerates.

2. A limit is reached. All potential material complexity has been realized. But it doesn’t end there.

3. Complexity continues to increase, no longer in the material dimension but in the virtual. The evolution of virtuality is the evolution of life: The ability of virtuality is what sets the living apart from the dead. Humans call their experienced virtuality “mind”.

Admittedly, this drawing is a more than a little problematic, as the development graph has become crowded with conflicting significations. The reason I chose this flawed solution is that it shows 1) the reflexivity of virtuality, and 2) the continuity of material and virtual complexity. The drawing is problematic, but key, so I should explain it in some more detail:

  • A: This is some sort of measure of what we still don’t understand about reality. Things like quantum gravity, consciousness and what have you.
  • B: This is the part we do understand. We understand a lot.
  • C: This is the part of virtuality that has little or nothing to do with scientific understanding of reality. It deals with the imaginary. Dreams, music and philosophy. All the good stuff. Notice how the imaginary is pictured as a prerequisite of a grasp of reality.
  • Compare C with B: This hyperinflation of the imaginary is intended. A highly developed mind is playful.

4. At this hypothetical point in time, reality will be completely accounted for by virtuality. Absolute physical truth is attained.

Parenthetically: Since true physics/physical truth must be a description of reality, completely distinct from reality in itself, physicalism could be viewed as a rather unusual kind of idealism!…

Once again, the drawing is less than perfect: In order to show that reality is completely understood, the representation of virtuality would have to envelop not only the material reality, but also itself. — I really wish I had a clue of how to draw that!

5. Virtuality has moved on, reality is altogether left behind. What this future might hold is ridiculously far removed from my foresight.

But if the god-minds of post-ultimate understanding are anything like us, they will probably miss the old, dark and cold place we call the universe, and create new and slightly better ones to occupy themselves with.


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