Saturday, March 19, 2022

Distancing from direct definitions.

Wikipedia defines "negative space" in art as the empty space around and between the subject of an image. For example, in the image below, we see that the subject of the image is supposed to be something like a white chalice, and the negative space is all of the black space -- which seems to contain two geometrically opposed faces -- that surrounds it. 



Now, you could get this image by drawing either the chalice or drawing the two faces. If presented with this task, my intuition is that most people would opt for the former, just because it seems that the faces would take up more time. Assuming you agree the chalice is the real subject, you could say that by drawing the two faces to get the chalice, you're drawing the chalice indirectly, but still getting the same result than if you just drew the chalice.

Moving away from visuals, I think we experience negative spaces more often in our daily lives when we talk about what things are not. For example, I'm not quite sure what my 'dream' career is (or if I will ever find one), but I'm confident that it's not being an accountant. While I could get an idea of my dream career directly by, say, thinking about the kind of lifestyle I enjoy and what kinds of tasks I enjoy doing, and seeing what kinds of jobs cater to both of those, I could also list off specific occupations I know for sure are not for me. I found that I've been pretty happy with the early-career decisions that have come from precisely this indirect thinking. I really don't really see myself as a software engineer, either, but I do enjoy thinking about certain concepts that appear in computer science, and these two pieces of information in conjunction I think have moved me in a direction I want to be going in. One might say that, in so doing, I've been establishing the 'negative space' of a dream job.

I know for a fact that this trick isn't only helpful in my own life. Indirect reasoning, carving up the 'negative space' of 'what is true' (so, showing what is not true), is used in math all the time. We can prove that the square root of 2 is an irrational number by first assuming that it is rational, and then showing that this would lead to statements that are plainly not true. We use this thinking to dispel what we know to be false in everyday contexts, too. If you can't immediately appeal to scientific evidence to know that the earth is flat, assume it is, and then note that this would mean people can fall off the edge. But that's never happened! So you know it's false. You're reasoning about what the world is like by stating what you know for sure it's not. 

I'm not sure how much this kind of indirect, negative-space type thinking moves the needle on the important questions, but I think it's really good for getting us off the ground in the first place. I don't know how dependent we should be on technology in the future, but I do know that, however much power we give different forms, I'd want humans making the big, final decisions. That's valuable information, and assuming you agree, it makes the question less abstract. We'd then instead start talking about where we'd draw the line for future technology, which could then lead us to discussions about how much power to give AI, leading us closer and closer to plans that could be implemented in practice. One measure of intellectual progress is seeing how much our thoughts have moved from the abstract to the granular, and I think indirect reasoning jumpstarts this process. This implies that, as we discover new scientific fields, such thinking becomes more and more important. In a sense, it's just the process of making obviously true statements.

That's why I named this blog 'Negative Spaces'. I'm not going to explicitly try to reason indirectly in everything I write, but as I said, I think it's critical for objectively understanding our world and for the bettering of our own lives in a very practical sense, both of which I do hope to help with in my own way.  

Monday, March 14, 2022

Self-alignment as a collective solution.



I have been thinking a lot about personal responsibility lately, and specifically, the obligation that every one of us has to contribute to the common good. 

The demands placed on our time and attention make it difficult for anyone to be perfectly moral, but we all still have some tacitly assumed moral responsibilities towards others. We execute on such responsibilities all the time; many of us take care of our parents when they become old, turn down loud music once it hits 10PM to not disturb neighbors, and give some amount of our yearly salary to charities. 


For a variety of reasons, though, we may not always take the morally better action. Perhaps you’re playing the music loud because you’re hosting a party, and turning it down too much would really kill the mood. Maybe you’re just out of school and strapped for cash, so you don’t donate to a charity. Such reasons for not taking the morally better action seem circumstantial, and don’t seem to be a huge deal. 


But there is another more interesting, general class of reasons that prevent people from taking the moral action that involves the lack of perceived impact the action would have. These reasons are usually given for actions that would only seem useful if everyone took them. For instance, we know at this point that there are a variety of human activities that contribute to non-negligible increases in average global temperature, and that if many of us were to no longer take these actions, we would be decreasing the likelihood of catastrophic natural events taking place in the near future. If everyone flew less, airlines would operate fewer flights, which would translate to less air pollution and thus a slightly lower global temperature, or so the logic goes. This is nothing new. 


The trouble comes, of course, with actually getting everyone to do this. If we choose to take fewer flights in a given year, it’s likely that someone else will just fill our seat on each of those flights, making us feel like not booking the tickets would have effectively no impact in the big picture. Then, based on this reasoning, we take the flights anyway.


This sucks. In principle, many pressing problems could be solved by a coordinated effort that would require little commitment from each of the individual actors while making a disproportionately large collective impact. It’s not like we’ve hit a dead end in the search for solutions. But I can’t entirely blame people for acting this way, since the consequences of their actions under this framework don’t really matter. 


If we aren’t taking the action because of the positive consequences we hope they would bring about, what else could motivate us to act this way? It feels wrong to just throw our hands up in the air and buy the plane tickets anyway, since any progress would be even harder to come by if everyone collectively gave up. Luckily, there are still people who would do this for a bunch of different reasons. One motivation is to stay true to our principles; we refrain from buying the plane tickets because it simply is the right thing to do, and making the right decision is good for its own sake. I think that many of us reason exactly this way when we don’t buy the plane tickets, or when we order a vegetarian option at a restaurant instead of a meat-based one. We know it doesn’t have an impact, but taking the action makes us feel good since we are, at least to some extent, sticking to the principles of right and wrong that we set for ourselves. There are also other reasons for acting in this way, such as virtue signaling, if there is an opportunity to advertise to the world that we decided not to buy the tickets. But I still think the most common motivation to do the hard moral thing is to stay committed to your values, and it does feel good to be in line with yourself. We should not buy the plane ticket because that’s in line with our values, which is good for its own sake. 


However, I think there is an intriguing potential benefit to acting from your values that is rarely discussed. There’s a way in which acting in line with your values is the only power you have to affect anything. 


I recently came across some of Carl Jung’s work, and what’s compelling about his views is that they make it seem as if there is no plausible alternative but to stick to one’s principles in trying to make a difference. During the 20th century, he observed an ever greater number of individuals tilting towards collective ideologies and mass movements while simultaneously detaching from the more traditional belief structures imposed by religions. This made sense to Jung, as he believed that it was necessary for human beings to possess a set of values to draw upon in their everyday lives, and in this time, the values of religion were being replaced by those of political elites and leaders. But Jung thought that neither of these should be the base for one’s values, as it was dangerous to source them from anything else than one’s internal well of insights and capacity to reason. To Jung, having a clear sense of your values and the reasons for choosing them, as well as acting upon them irrespective of their impact on the world at large, should have been the norm instead of borrowing from religion or the state. The reason for this was that excessive identification with either entity led to the individual feeling insignificant, since in so doing they were in line with most of the population and pushing away the potentially disruptive, but ultimately freeing internal cues that inform the individual of their unique abilities and contribution to the world.


Jung believed that it was precisely through paying attention to these feelings of insignificance, however uncomfortable at times, that could melt away existential angst and pave the way to human flourishing. Since the problem that arose from religion becoming less present in everyday life could be characterized as a lack of self-knowledge, getting familiar with one’s internal world was truly the only way to cope with the demands placed by this mass spiritual shift. Jung calls this journey of self-knowledge individuation. Once it is complete, the individual is able to live out their purpose by having their actions follow directly from their values, regardless of whether they are aligned with those of society at large. For Jung, being true to one’s self was the only lasting solution to psychic ailments.


Thinking about whether or not these theories are correct is a topic for a separate, longer post, but I want to touch on some of the moral implications of the ideas they put forth. Jung would have ultimately traced most societal problems – inequality, access to medical care, and the like – to spiritually plagued individuals. I don’t think it’s wrong to believe that institutions are actually the ones that carry responsibility for such issues, but an institution is still a group of people led by a few individuals who, in turn, leverage the power at their disposal and act on corrupt values that arise from group dynamics (such as greed and virtue signaling). You can oust the leaders of institutions to change their policies, but unless those individuals themselves change after this, they can just find new ways for their values to manifest and cause trouble. To Jung, our responsibility and duty lies solely with changing ourselves, since at the root, social problems are individual problems, so the individual taking charge of their own behavior resolves these larger problems.


While this framework is still flawed, I think its value lies in presenting some of today’s most pressing issues in a way that makes them much more conquerable for the individual. If we can identify lack of self-alignment and its resulting negative, external manifestation as the mechanism responsible for much of the turmoil present in the world, tending to this at the very least in myself feels empowering. It doesn’t (and shouldn’t) free me from the duty to help others as well, but it’s this kind of thinking, about simply starting with myself, that’s gotten me out of depressive spells and made me productive when it counts. I don’t think it completely solves the plane ticket problem, either – but it’s what would get me to not buy it



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Notes

I want to eventually write some more, detailed posts about ethics, but there are a few points I should add.

1. First, if you asked me whether I have a more comprehensive moral framework, I’d want to say yes ( most likely a strange blend of utilitarianism and virtue ethics, leaning more heavily on the former), but the reason I presented above for not buying the plane ticket doesn’t adhere to it. Also, if I deliberate the morality of an action, I feel like I do refer to my framework. So it seems like my conscious thinking about morality is rule-based, but my snap judgments are much less so. And that’s definitely a disconnect! Thinking about the role of conscious reasoning in moral judgment seems interesting.

2. I was thinking a lot about Susan Wolf’s “Moral Saints” when writing this -- it's my favorite contemporary piece. By thinking about different motivations for the more ‘moral’ action, I don’t mean that it should always be taken.

"People think of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." -Leo Tolstoy