Normal Human Heroes

This post refers to concepts from the LessWrong posts Something To Protect, and The “Intuitions” Behind “Utilitarianism”. If you haven’t read them, I suggest it (and in that order); they’re very good.

There’s more than one reason to work to reduce extinction risk, but probably one of the most powerful is having something to protect. It seems to be a fact of human psychology that we’re willing to work harder and sacrifice more to protect something external to ourselves, such as loved ones, a “great noble truth”, or a nation/ethnic group/religious group, etc. Not only does working for something-we-want-to-protect bring us to do more, but it seems to also make us more satisfied while we do it.

6 billion people is a lot of people, but few if any of us feel an intuitive emotional kick about 6 billion people. It’s doesn’t mean we’re villains, our brains just aren’t built to multiply like that. Back in the EEA, we had no use for getting very emotional about people we didn’t know, because we knew everyone in our group.

One kind of work-around to this gap in our mental hardware is to take your concern for those close to you and multiply. Chances are that most people are cared for just as much as you care for your loved ones, and care for others in turn. Even if you think that only 1 in 4, or 1 in 100, is worth feeling that much for, that’s still 60,000,000 people. And 60,000,000 multiplied by however much you care for those close to you, is a fucking huge amount. Not that we’re capable of honestly multiplying like that, or physically capable of feeling that much concern if we could do the multiplication, but it can still bring you to feel massive amounts, and lead you to put a more coherent weight on certain outcomes when making conscious decisions.

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I actually wrote this post before the one on positive motivation, but I definitely didn’t want this to be taken the wrong way. I am NOT saying that we have a fantastically huge obligation, a duty to save all human lives. I am NOT saying we’ll be bad people if we don’t do all we can to protect the ones we care about. Personally I’m not really concerned about whether or not I’m a “bad person”, and I’m starting to think this is helpful. The fact of the matter is that I just really want my loved ones to survive, I want to save and help as many as I can. That’s not all I want, I have some technically selfish goals as well, and I endorse them. But I also have a very strong desire to preserve human lives and human value in the universe. And if you’re concerned about existential risk, I’m guessing you do as well.

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There’s a danger with this kind of multiplication, one that I didn’t see coming. With that much concern, a person can really get overzealous in protecting the things they care about. A little over a year ago, I explicitly decided to stop hanging out with my friends, unless I ran into them by chance. I did this in order to get more work done. I knew that I would mind that and so would they, but I’d rather them be unhappy for now and alive later. I’m recovering from the pit I fell into, so I’m starting to be able to emotionally understand why I did that, but for a while that level of concern was practically unimaginable. Anyway, I rapidly found that I couldn’t keep working without recreational social contact, but that didn’t completely end the problem.

I now took time for fun social gatherings, but I grew distant from people. I saw my friends now and then, but I was still on the other side of a divide. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, trying to figure out how to describe it. So far my best description was that they weren’t in my group anymore; I was in a group of me. I still cared about them, but I had a job to do. I didn’t want them to rely on me and me not to be there, if they made plans with me in them. I could get by with less hanging out than they’d want if I were close to them. Also, and this might be the larger part, I no longer took the time for many things I used to do, and enjoyed doing with them. I used to play video games, playing and discussing them with my friends. I used to put together role-playing campaigns with them in it. I used to be much more content to just lay around cuddling with my girlfriend. I used to spend several hours watching shows or movies with others.

I got along on my own, with occasional socializing. I still cared about my friends, but that care slowly became more and more abstract. They weren’t close to me anymore, nobody was. I wasn’t actually lonely or sad, but I was fairly alone. I can’t help but recall some lines from a favorite game:

“… I wish someone could have been there for you.”
“I’m used to being on my own.”
“One can be TOO self-sufficient, I’m coming to believe.”

And that’s how it came to be that I couldn’t even imagine or remember the type of dedication that lead me to separate myself in the first place. That’s how it came to be that I didn’t have much to multiply anymore. Y = 6,400,000,000 * X, and Y was so large that in my zeal I cut down X, and Y sunk with it.

I’m recovering from my mistake now, and I don’t know if anyone is even in danger of trying what I tried, but take my advice: keep close the ones you care about. Don’t put that aside. We’re social creatures, and we draw so much of our power from each other. Your friendships are important: for your happiness, for their happiness, and for all the good things your accomplishments will bring.

February 11th, 2010
When I first conceived of this blog I thought of having recurrent post themes, one of them being “things I want to protect”. Not sure if that will materialize, but this is one of the posts that I imagined in that vein.
When I was a wee lad, I was crazy about a girl for years. Smart, beautiful, baggy clothes and always reading. That didn’t go anywhere, and in time I grew interested in other girls, though not as much. Those didn’t go anywhere either, and I decided to hold off on getting attached until something worked out. Being way too shy and nervous around girls back then, nothing worked out for a long time, and I got a little bitter. Eventually I did find my peace, realizing that I truly didn’t need romantic success – in general or with anyone in particular – to be happy and enjoy my life. Shortly thereafter I found myself in a relationship, which isn’t very surprising.
But I’d been going the hard-hearted route for a long time, and now that I had something good, it was hard to feel like I used to. The girl I was crazy about back in middle school was still a great person by my current standards, and while I didn’t feel that way anymore, I could remember what it was like. It was nice, just to have that feeling. I had this funny perception of my romantic self as some wrinkled old man. That can be taken several ways, so pick your favorite. Funny that at one point I actually had endeavored to lose the ability to feel like I used to; take this as a warning against rash (and sloppy) self-modification.
When I was studying abroad in Japan 2 years ago, I met a girl, another student from the US studying there. You know where it’s going so we’ll cut to the chase: with her it “clicked” again. Cute, funny, cheerful, awesome baggy style, and somehow when she smiled, she just shone. I wish I could better describe how cool she is, and the excitement I feel around her, but I’ll save my poetry for later and assume you know what I’m talking about, guy or girl, straight or gay. I asked her out, and though she declined it was still a great experience.  It really had sunk in deep that I could be very happy “being alone”, so I don’t suffer in situations of unrequited love. We continued to hang out and remain friends, and though I can and have cared about others, I still feel quite powerfully about her.
I’m not here to talk about how powerful love is, or say that love endures, or love makes the world go around, or love is the reason for living, or any of that silliness. But damnit it’s nice, and I care about protecting that in our future.

December 25th, 2009
I have really positive associations with Christmas, and as an atheist but a cultural Christian I still really enjoy it. I self-perceived most of my youth as a fight against boredom, and with little income, Christmas really helped out. It was also one of the only 3 or so times a year I got to see my “fun” grandparents.
These days I have the money to buy the things I really want, so the gifts aren’t such a big thing anymore, but it’s still a lot of fun. Listening to a song that came on (posted below), a different kind of fantasy struck me. Being focused on existential risk throughout the year, I have it occasionally. There’s a lot of beauty that’s possible, and enjoyments that are worlds beyond what we can imagine, but sometimes, I fantasize just about safety. I think about a world where we’ve done it, succeeded, with no more existential risk, no more involuntary death, no more significant suffering. The enhancements, the superhuman happiness, the vastly greater intelligence, the radically enhanced communication, I can wait for. We could take our time, the future shining and unblemished by danger or fear, each of us knowing we’d be around as long as we want to be, able to take ourselves as far as we want, as fast as we want. We’d be able to relax so fully, enjoying each other’s company as we approach a welcoming horizon.

Sarah McLachlan singing John Lennon’s “Happy Christmas (War is Over)” You might want to listen without watching the video, which while nice, dissipates and changes the tone of the song a little.

P.S. If you’re wondering what I’m talking about in technical terms, I’m referring to the rise of  a benevolent singleton, protecting our present and future while allowing the self-determination of personal choice. Something we might get if SIAI or their allies eventually succeed.

December 8th, 2009
As we get older we (appropriately) learn more both about what we can do, and what we can’t. When very young, most of us had very little idea of what we couldn’t do, and that meant very few bounds on our dreams. Eventually you grow up and develop much more reasonable dreams, such as leading a successful career, marrying a great spouse, living in a nice house, and seeing the world.
To me it seems that one meaning of “transhumanist” is just someone who’s began to see just how much we can do, now or in the future. Looking back after so many papers and books and engineering proposals, I realized that those once-childish dreams of youth are with us once more. Here’s a recapitulation for those who have already let the strength of the arguments overcome categorical disbelief for such radically positive outcomes. I’m not saying that the following are guaranteed, even if we survive, only that they are delightfully possible.

• Everyone can be rich, or at least the equivalent of rich by today’s standards. CHECK
• Everyone can have enough toys, food, and medical care, and we’ll see the end of (most) scarcity and war. CHECK
• We’ll never have to spend our time in boring classrooms. CHECK
• We’ll explore the universe. CHECK
• We’ll see the end of aging, and nobody will be forced to get sick or die anymore. CHECK
• We can spend the entirety of our time on favorite hobbies and activities, should we so choose. We can keep playing with our friends for as long as we like. CHECK
• Nobody has to be sad or unhappy ever again. CHECK

November 27th, 2009
On Thanksgiving my family visits my Aunt and Uncle’s place just across the Wisconsin border. They’ve got this cool old house in the woods, nested by this creek one must drive over, wondering each year how strong that wooden bridge still is. My cousins and I used to spend the afternoon watching movies upstairs, and even more than that I enjoyed the walks we would take along that creek, quiet and still, sometimes blanketed by a little snow. There was one cousin that I got along with especially well, and we were close friends for many years. Both in email correspondence and in person as we walked along that creek, we would talk about all the dreams we had for the future, all the things we were going to go and see, anticipation for our next months and years hung like a piñata above us, ready to burst.
This year was the first that I didn’t hide away watching movies with my cousins and sister. I don’t really mind that; I have less access to the aunts and uncles than I do to movies, and joining the “big people table” was inevitable. This was also the first year I took the walk along the creek on my own. It’s nothing that sinister; my sister is still away on study abroad, and the cousin was having thanksgiving at his parent’s place this year. But there was something wistful about the experience.
My cousin and I have drifted apart in the past several years. We still get along and have some laughs when we meet, but our relationship is more distant and our long-running email correspondence is dead or dormant. I’m not sure how much we have in common these days, but over the years that’s often been the case and I wonder how much was based on that sharing of hopes and dreams. I’m happy to say that I still occasionally feel some wide-eyed wonder, but our relationship is more strongly tinged with memories of all those happy times of the past. Today it occurred to me that if things for me are tinged by old experiences, things may be for him as well, and perhaps that’s part of the reason for the distance. He accomplished more than I did but also had it much rougher, and in the end he lost two people very very close to him, forever. He seems to be doing well these days with a very nice career starting up, but also like a man much more aged and worn than he should be.
My uncle is the oldest of a large family and over 60; he and my aunt are aging and may soon sell this place. It’s not as clean as it used to be, every year a little more overgrown, a few more of the large trees dead and fallen, and the fallen trees a little softer and more rotted. I may love that creek more than anyone and it’s still beautiful out there, but one way or another it’s not going to last. I wish I could have logged my experiences, so that when that creek is no longer there I can at least remember clearly the times we had in it. Without such ability it will eventually fade from recollection, leaving only a deformed imprint, a memory of trees and rocks and an emotional residue of excitement and longing.
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The dream of transhumanism is that we can do so much better than this. We can prevent the dreary crawl of unwanted decay and aging, we can preserve value, and we can live better lives, lives less inclined to suicide, lives less marred by suffering and grief. A good dream is a precious thing, and I’m not letting go.

September 17th, 2009
Riding the bus this morning we were stopped at one corner for a bit, and there was a woman there waiting for another line. She was dressed very simply in a work uniform, with her hair back, and a 2 or 3 year old son in her arms. He was looking about, squinting and seeming a little irritated with the sunlight. She seemed in that quiet early-morning mood, and though she gave off a strong impression of intelligence and maturity I got the feeling the child was unplanned, perhaps had when she was still a teenager. I’d also guess she was single, and I started to think about life and outcomes we may never have wished for but that we come to live with. Then, as he was looking with confusion at the bus or something else, she came out of her reverie and with great warmth and easy affection, kissed him on the cheek.