Coming Apart

When “anything goes”, everything does.

This Is The Hell We Are Building For Ourselves

Get a load of this.

Theodore Kaczynski, 1942-2023

I ought to have noted the death, last Saturday, of the mathematician and terrorist Theodore “Unabomber” Kaczynski, who died last Saturday at the age of 81.

From Wikipedia:

He was a mathematics prodigy, but abandoned his academic career in 1969 to pursue a primitive lifestyle. Between 1978 and 1995, Kaczynski murdered three individuals and injured 23 others in a nationwide mail bombing campaign against people he believed to be advancing modern technology and the destruction of the natural environment. He authored Industrial Society and Its Future, a 35,000-word manifesto and social critique opposing industrialization, rejecting leftism, and advocating for a nature-centered form of anarchism.

I’ve never read his 1995 manifesto, but I think I will do so now. Those I know who have read it tell me that he understood, at a profound human level, the problem of modernity; that he was NRx “avant la lettre”. It’s a pity he ruined it all: as much as one might like to, one simply cannot approve of mailing bombs to people.

You can find a copy of his manifesto here.

As I Was Saying…

For years now I’ve been writing, in these pages, about a few points that I think are central to understanding the decline of American — and, more broadly, Western — society and culture. (I might as well have been yelling up a drainpipe, for all the good it’s done, but at least I’ve been trying.) Among other things, I’ve tried to explain the danger that a secular, materialistic metaphysics presents to liberal social organization.

One hazard is that the absolute bedrock of the American Founding is the doctrine of “natural rights”. This was summed up in America’s ur-document, the Declaration of Independence, in the statement that:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Readers may recall, from a few years back, a series of linked posts that began with my having read a review, by Michael Anton, of Thomas G. West’s outstanding book The Political Theory of the American Founding. Mr Anton responded with an email to me, reprinted here as the third in the series, and things went on from there I am particularly indebted to our friend and commenter “Jacques” for his contributions to the conversation.

I was particularly troubled by whether the very idea of natural law, upon which the whole American project rests, could withstand the removal of the transcendent foundation in the “Creator” invoked by Jefferson in the Declaration. (Spoiler: I believe it can’t.) In the last post in the linked series, I focused on that problem, which I think neither Anton nor West has satisfactorily resolved.

In that post, I used a term I’ve relied on often to describe the corrosive effect of the radical skepticism that results from the abandonment of transcendent metaphysics. I see it as a “universal acid” — in that there is, in the absence of a permanent and objective footing for our abstractions, no stopping place that prevent our relentless questioning from dissolving away to nothing every tradition, institution, and moral intuition. (I’ll give credit to Daniel Dennett for the term, which I’ve used many times over the years.) In this post from 2015, I pointed out that a nation that prides itself on being “an idea” — as America uniquely does — is particularly vulnerable to memetic hazards, which are exactly what the death of God in a rationalist society creates. Way back in 2009, long before I began to make any serious movement toward the real possibility of theistic belief, I wrote about the risk of secularism to social cohesion and stability.

Here in 2023, all these chickens are now coming home to roost, in a rapidly accelerating social, cultural, political, moral, and national disintegration. We have been “running on fumes” for several generations now, as the moral and civil premises that made America possible in the first place lingered on despite the death of these axioms at their root — but now the rot has gone so far as to poison all of our institutions, and so the last generation that really kept these beliefs alive as “self-evident truths” is now growing old and weak.

For most of my life, I was, with just the tiniest sliver of doubt, effectively an atheist, and at times quite militantly so. I will say for myself, though, that my personal beliefs didn’t stop me from acknowledging the dangers of widespread secularism at a societal level. I watched the celebrated “New Atheists” — Hitchens, Dawkins, Dennett, and Harris rise to fame with an increasing sense of foreboding about their carelessness, knowing that, although brainy types like themselves might be able to come to terms with the abyss they were staring into, their aggressive promotion of nihilism was profoundly unwise. I don’t think they thought they were doing anything other than nobly pursuing what they, on what I now understand to be shaky “rational” grounds, believed to be Truth; indeed, for them, the nonexistence of God was, no doubt, as much a “self-evident” truth — a matter of faith, even if they’d never admit it — as the basis of natural rights was for the Founders.

So it is with some grim satisfaction now that I see more and more secular materialists — atheists — coming round now, with the same reluctance that I did, to the conclusions I got to quite a long time ago. A good example is the right-wing gadfly Carl Benjamin, who confesses in a podcast interview with Auron Macintyre that the scales have begun to fall from his eyes. Many of the things I’ve been saying for years are in there — the shaky foundation of natural rights, and of classical liberalism generally, in the absence of God; the descending glide-path of modern liberalism having been slowed by the residual influence of Christianity; even the phrase “universal acid” to describe the corrosive effect of the radical skepsis bequeathed to us by the Enlightenment. The whole thing is well worth your time, and you can listen to it here.

Service Notice

Sorry for the scanty content; I’m away on one of my musical retreats with the Shoal Survivors. Back this week, with plenty to talk about.

OK, Pandemic’s Over. What Next?

I wonder where this story is headed.

(Commenter “JK”, call your office…)

Signal And Noise

Here’s a pithy little item about uncertainties in climate-change modeling.

Crime And …

Someone in an Urbit chat group just posted a link to an article I’d never seen about vote fraud in the 2020 election. The essay was written in December of that year on a blog called The Adventures of Shylock Holmes, and it is probably the best analysis of the question that I have yet to see. (That’s in part because very few people ever actually did any serious analysis, and because the courts at every level blocked nearly every case, on procedural grounds, from actually going to trial.)

You can read the article here.

I don’t know about you, but at this point I have no remaining confidence whatsoever in our electoral system — or, quite frankly, in the American system of government. It is all, at this point, a titanic, colossal failure, a rotting corpse whose lingering twitchings and gibberings are not signs of life, but merely the movements and gaseous exhalations of the necrophagic parasites devouring its decomposing tissues from within.

What comes next? What is to be done?

Well!

Here’s an interesting item about New York State’s election system. (I’m sure you will be as shocked as I was.)

Three Years On

Yesterday marked the third anniversary of the death of America’s holiest martyr, the sainted George Floyd. His joining of the choir invisible, while hospitalized after resisting arrest, ignited — as readers may recall! — a national convulsion of rioting and chaos that resulted in widespread social and physical devastation.

I’m a day late, but I thought I’d mark the anniversary of the great man’s passing by posting a copy of his autopsy. You can read it here.

You might also find this Twitter thread to be of interest.

Time-Hopping

One of the greatest Roman citizens of the late Republican era was the statesman, lawyer, and orator Cicero (106 BC – 43 BC). A little while ago, wanting to dig a little deeper into the man’s life and work, I ordered a book called The Complete Works of Marcus Tullius Cicero (now out of print, apparently, and hard to come by, so I’m glad I got it when I did).

The book — a thick, textbook-size paperback — is rather difficult to read, because it’s a photographic facsimile of an edition published in London in 1816. It reproduces all the defects and blurriness of the original printed pages, and there are also places where the text at the edges of the pages is curved and distorted, presumably by the book’s having had to be mooshed down onto the bed of some optical scanner. There seems as well to have been some problem with scanning the verso (left-hand) pages, which are often quite faint, with some patches nearly vanishing altogether. At first the thing seemed almost unreadable, but it’s surprising how quickly the brain adjusts, and after a little while I’d stopped noticing all this.

Although this edition was printed in 1816, the book was actually written in 1745, by Conyers Middleton (1683-1750), a noted clergyman and the librarian of the University of Cambridge, where he was a fellow of Trinity College. The book, far from being merely a translation of Cicero’s works, is, instead (so far, at least, I’m currently 291 pages in), a detailed biography of Cicero’s life, with fascinating commentary and analysis by Middleton, translations of relevant material by Cicero, and extensive footnotes in Latin.

All in all, reading the book has been a fascinating experience, with a feeling of leapfrogging backward in time: from 2023 to the first century BC, by way of 1745/1816 — that is to say, from the current era of the American Republic’s collapse, to the time of its founding, and then back to the last days of the antique Republic that provided the model for our own — and Conyers Middleton, whom I had never heard of before reading this book, is a remarkable traveling-companion. I’ll probably be posting further excerpts from the book as I make my way forward, but for now, here are two samples of Middleton’s commentary (with emphasis added by me).

In the first (page 15), Middleton describes the result of the “Social War”, in which Italian cities allied with Rome demanded, and eventually were granted, actual Roman citizenship:

Upon the breaking out of this war, the Romans gave the freedom of the city [citizenship] to all the towns which continued firm to them; and, at the end of it, after the destruction of three thousand lives, thought fit, for the sake of their future quiet, to grant it to all the rest: but this step, which they considered as the foundation of a perpetual peace, was, as an ingenious writer has observed, one of the causes that hastened their ruin: for the enormous bulk to which the city was swelled by it, gave birth to many new disorders, that gradually corrupted and eventually destroyed it; and the discipline of the laws calculated for a people whom the same walls could contain, was too weak to keep in order the vast body of Italy; so the from this time chiefly, all affairs were decided by faction and violence, and the influence of the great; who could bring whole towns into the forum from remote parts of Italy; or pour in a number of slaves and foreigners under the form of citizens; for when the names and persons of real citizens could no longer be distinguished, it was not possible to know, whether any act had passed regularly, by the genuine suffrage of the people.

Next, here’s a passage from page 92, about the passage of a law granting unprecedented emergency authority to Pompey to command Roman armies in Asia (a law that was supported by Julius Caesar, but generally opposed in the Senate):

J. Caesar also was a violent promoter of this law; but from a different motive than the love either of Pompey, or the republic; his design was to recommend himself by it to the people, whose favor, he foresaw, would be of more use to him than the senate’s, and to cast a fresh load of envy upon Pompey, which, by some accident, might be improved afterwards to his hurt; but his chief view was to make the precedent familiar, that, whatever use Pompey might make of it, he himself might one day make a bad one. For this is the common effect of breaking through the barrier of the laws, by which many states have been ruined; when, from the confidence in the abilities and integrity of some eminent citizen, they invest him, on pressing occasions, with extraordinary powers, for the common benefit and defense of the society; for though power so entrusted may, in particular cases, be of singular service, and sometimes even necessary; yet the example is always dangerous, furnishing a perpetual pretence to the ambitious and ill-designing, to grasp at every prerogative which had been granted at any time to the virtuous, till the same power, which would save a country in good hands, oppresses it at last in bad.

How little things change.

Vallicella On The Limits Of Transhumanism

We live in an age dominated by scientistic materialism. Ever since the Enlightenment, the explosive growth in our scientific understanding of nature has rocked religion back on its heels by providing mechanistic and mathematical explanations for phenomena that had previously been wholly mysterious. The great paradigm by which we understood the world was slowly inverted; science’s glittering successes gradually shifted the default position regarding the explanation of all phenomena toward the laws and mechanisms of the physical world, and away from transcendent agency.

The world is no less astonishing than it ever was; the difference now is that when we see something we can’t account for, we insist — reflexively, as a matter of faith — that “I’m sure there must be some scientific explanation”. This makes sense, but only up to a point: for example, while there do indeed seem to be laws of nature, observations of the breaking of which usually lead only to the discovery of deeper and more subtle laws, nobody, at least as far as I’m aware, has yet come up with a compelling “scientific explanation” of the origin and specific content of the laws themselves. (See my linked series of posts beginning here.)

This confidence in scientistic materialism is not irrational in itself, if one accepts that it rests on axioms that, like all axioms, are themselves unprovable, and so must be taken on faith: that they simply “feel true”. (That’s just what axioms are; if they could be proven, they’d be theorems, not axioms, and would in turn have to rest on even deeper axioms.) But being “not irrational” is consistent with a variety of other rationally defensible models of the world, for example the various theistic models that religions have offered. The scientistic-materialist model, however, now enjoys a dominant position in Western civilization (there’s some irony in that, but I’ll leave that for another post), and so its adherents would like very much to shoehorn everything one might normally want from a plenary and satisfying world-view into its austere constraints. Being human, after all, we still yearn for meaning, purpose, and some way to comfort ourselves in the face of annihilation — things that transcendent, theistic models handle easily, but which present an almost insuperable challenge to secular materialism.

And so we find some poaching going on: attempts by materialists to pocket attractive features from the religious model. One form of this is called “transhumanism”, which is the idea that advances in life extension, cognitive and sensory enhancement, and control of nature will put genuine transcendence — everything we might ask and long for — within reach right here in the material world.

Our friend, the philosopher Bill Vallicella, was recently asked by a correspondent whether, in this way, transhumanism might eventually “put religion out of business”. The answer is no: and in an excellent piece over at Substack, Bill explains why. You can read it here.

No Can Do

This entry is part 6 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

Over the past week or two I’ve been kicking around the idea of “accelerationism” — that the best way forward for this rotting society is to give its most destructive factions free rein, so as to make the disease progress so rapidly, and to such extremes, that it either provokes, at last, an “immune response” from the millions of decent Americans who, by voting in so-called “progressives”, have let it get this far; or forces the whole bloated, unsustainably evil thing to collapse at last, allowing us to begin to build something new from the ashes.

Well, after lively debate — with, among others, Bill Vallicella, Vito Caiati, our commenter ‘mharko’, and my own brother David (who is a man of exceptional intelligence and sound moral instinct) — I’m persuaded that it isn’t the right way forward. Even from a purely strategic, instrumentalist stance it’s an even bet at best; and from a moral point of view I simply cannot endorse evil, even for the chance of drawing the Devil into a tactical overreach. Moreover, the acceleration’s happening anyway, and our energy will best be spent cultivating our strength, husbanding our resources, improving our defenses, forming networks of resistance, preparing for the crisis, and building whatever arks and fastnesses we can to endure the storm, and to cherish and preserve that which we will need to carry the light forward.

So: accelerationism? I’m out. Thank you all for helping me to make up my mind.

Contra Accelerationism

This entry is part 5 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

Our commenter mharko has given us a link to a brief video making an argument, from a Christian perspective, against accelerationism. The presenter, Jonathan Pageau, calls it “dancing with death”. Here it is:

There is an interesting “as above, so below” theme running through the argument. The idea is twofold: first, that there is an isomorphism between the individual and society, and second, that there is a similar parallel between the arc of history and the life of Christ.

Regarding the first, Mr. Pageau says that, for most people at least, it will be impossible to foster accelerating decadence in the larger society (above), without allowing the rot to seep into our individual selves (below). He describes this as a dangerous flirtation with nihilism, and I can’t say he’s wrong.

As for the second, the argument is that, under a Christian understanding at least, this period of crisis and passion is inevitable, but it is precisely during such a moment in history when we are required to be Christlike; to remain faithful to what we know in our hearts to be good and right and true, even if the whole world seems to be mocking it all and throwing it back in our faces.

If I were to push back against Mr. Pageau’s argument, it would be to say that, as regards the analogy with the individual, there is often a threshold effect in which a disease has to progress to a certain point before triggering a full-body immune response; the accelerationist, on the other hand, would say that keeping things on a slow boil, as our feeble resistance does, might delay that response, allowing more damage in the long run. (I would point out also that even in the story of Christ, Judas had a vitally important role to play.)

That said, though, I’m not sure I don’t find this anti-accelerationist argument persuasive. It is the same argument made very well by Vito Caiati over at Bill Vallicella’s place, and it is easy to see that it is a morally consistent position – as against the cynical, instrumentalist position of the accelerationist.

So: what’s my position here? As Jack Benny famously said: I’m thinking it over.

Just So

“Let any great nation of modern times be confronted by two conflicting propositions, the one grounded upon the utmost probability and reasonableness and the other upon the most glaring error, and it will almost invariably embrace the latter.”

— Mencken

Where Matters Stand

I’m at the point where I don’t see much use in banging on endlessly about how broken things are, and about what a decadent position we’ve reached in the great cycle of civilizations — but every now and then I suppose we need a little reminding, just to keep the fire going, and today at American Greatness I read such a thorough and pungent summary of our predicament that I thought I might as well post it.

Here it is.

Not To Worry!

If, like me, you’ve been worrying about the threat of runaway artificial intelligence, well now you can relax: the government is here to help. The formidable polymath Kamala Harris, fresh from her successful remediation of our troubles at the southern border, is now the Biden administration’s AI czar.

What a relief! It’s good to know that everything’s going to be OK.

More On Acceleration

This entry is part 4 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

Over at Bill Vallicella’s place, commenter “mharko” (who also has things to say over here from time to time), left such a fine comment on Bill’s accelerationism post that I am going to repost it here:

I had a thought mulling these things over while pulling weeds and cultivating soil that I wanted to risk exposing here regarding acceleration.

I have experienced spontaneously erupting notions, over this nouveau era, of the accelerationist idea, and I’m old enough to have been around the block on these themes before. As one of our prophets says, “If you you don’t believe me I can show you the scars.” (I am not very unlike any of you posting and commenting on this thread wrt the political and philosophical underpinnings of my worldview.) For example, “Oh God, bring it on! This world is FUBAR! Let’s get ready to rumble!”

I’m not disavowing that notion, and I acknowledge the moral issue of ‘doing the right thing versus the expedient thing’, but here’s my sticking point right now:
There are, and have been all along I presume, 1) those elements and agents who like arson on principle, and 2) on a spectrum or gradient, many others also, persuadable or influenceable.

Signing on to a protocol of acceleration is not our proper calling, gentlemen. Signaling acceleration to the social engine that feeds on humanity is what powers the beast. But recognizing the inevitability of acceleration is proper. The acceleration will continue (until morale improves) whether we will it or no, but surely, it will. The answer to the question, “What shall we do, now that the shit is slow motion hitting the fan before our eyes while we watch”? must be to occupy and witness (?????, ???????) without giving occasion to our neighbor to stumble.

Too many people are vulnerable, susceptible to or already on suicide watch to give any leash to notions of activist accelerationism or a posture of advocacy, but we can and must at least acknowledge with one another the signs of the times, and encourage each other as charity and wisdom commend.

I’m cultivating a close connection to local sustainability as I always have, gardening, conserving, prepping sanely, keeping powder dry and living as simple a life as possible, hoping even an ignored example will bear some witness, have some effect. Trying to balance being a modern and a traditionalist, and a stranger in a strange land. As I heard someone say earlier this evening, trying to marry beauty with divine intelligence. And be awake and responsive now and in the hour of you know what, amen.

I have to say that, despite my serious consideration of accelerationism (at the end of my own recent post on the topic, I wryly suggested pulling the lever for another term for the Big Guy), mharko’s words feel right to me, in particular the point he makes that the acceleration of our Progressivist catastrophe is jerking along just fine without any assistance from good and decent people. I was particularly affected by his use of the word “gentlemen” in his appeal to our higher instincts; perhaps that’s at odds with the cold tactical logic of the accelerationist, and perhaps gentlemanly restraint may even, in the long run, be our undoing, but one must be a steward of one’s own soul and dignity as well as of one’s civilization.

I won’t say the question’s now settled in my mind (and of course I won’t flatter myself that what an obscure blogger thinks about any of these great tides of history really matters in the slightest anyway). I’m grateful for the thoughtful conversation we’ve been having (and, I expect, will continue to have), and I wanted to thank mharko for his contribution by republishing it here.

PS – as noted in the comments below, the question-marks in parentheses above are the Greek words “katecho” and “marturo”. I am having trouble getting them to render!

Here We Go Again

A couple of weeks ago, after a brief trip back to New York City (where I’d lived for more than forty years, and where my wife and children grew up), I wrote:

I’m glad to be back on my little dirt road in the woods — NYC this time around seemed, in its accelerating degeneracy, to be a human zoo, an absolute freak-show, and the whole place now completely reeks of weed.

Well, by now you’ve probably heard about the incident on the F train in Manhattan yesterday: Jordan Neely, an angry, deranged, homeless black man, with at least forty prior arrests for crimes including violent assault, began menacing passengers, saying that he had nothing to lose and was ready to die. Several other passengers, reasonably concerned that he might be about to attack someone, moved to subdue him. One of them, a young white ex-Marine, applied a chokehold, and maintained it until Neely stopped resisting.

Neely died. The young man who had choked him was released by the police — who, I suppose, must have believed him to have acted bravely and justifiably.

If we had been looking for a spark to ignite yet another racial conflagration — which, of course a great many people always are, including public officials and those in charge of our media – we couldn’t have found a better one. Mr. Neely, whose beatification is already underway, will follow the holy George Floyd to canonization in saintly martyrdom, while the young Marine — whose name I do not know — will almost certainly go to the stake.

Summer’s coming! Looks like a hot one.

Should The Culture War Take A Back Seat?

This entry is part 3 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

On April 27th, Josiah Lippincott published an essay at American Greatness arguing that we’ve lost the culture war, and that the way forward is for the Right to focus squarely on the issues that got Donald Trump elected in 2016.

Lippincott’s article, which you can read here, stakes out the argument as follows:

Immigration, trade, war, and crime. Being right on these four issues propelled Donald Trump to the presidency in 2016 against all odds. The intervening seven years have changed nothing. The only way a candidate from the Right can possibly win the presidency in 2024 is by campaigning on limiting immigration (build the wall), increasing tariffs, getting out of Ukraine, and restoring law and order (especially in regards to elections and the opioid crisis).

These are the core issues for the center-Right coalition needed to win national elections. No supposedly conservative politician with aspiration for higher office should ever make any public statement without hammering at least one of these points. Journalist asks about Social Security? Talk about why we need to stop giving money to Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Democratic opponent brings up climate change? Talk about why we need to build the wall and make Mexico pay for it.

The issues of national survival are of primary importance. There is no point in fighting a culture war if we don’t have a country in which this war can take place. Conservatives do not have a viable path to political power any other way.

The Paul Ryan strategy of calling for lower taxes and deregulation is yesterday’s failure. Voters don’t have enough skin in that game to care. Calling for entitlement reform, i.e, cuts to social security and medicare, is political suicide. And as the 2022 midterms showed, campaigning on social issues like abortion is also a losing gambit.

Lippincott, who is a Christian himself, argues that Christianity has failed in its moral stewardship:

Trying to rehash these old battles in the present political moment, when institutional Christianity no longer has any meaningful political or cultural clout, is a waste of time—at least at the national level.

COVID-19 made the weakness of American Christianity painfully clear. Protestant and Catholic churches alike overwhelmingly declared themselves nonessential during the spring of 2020. That was, sadly, merely an acknowledgement of a longstanding reality.

Virtually no one today cares what the pope or any megachurch pastor, for that matter, has to say about political and cultural life. Their endorsements do not move the needle and their influence has had little to no bearing, even on their own flocks, when it comes to preserving the older standards of Christian morality and decency.

Since 1933, the American Right has posted loss after loss in the culture war. From blasphemy laws to pornography, school prayer to abortion, gay marriage to biological men using women’s bathrooms, conservatives and Christians have suffered a nearly unmitigated series of losses.

America’s pastors and priests couldn’t stop this decline. And, for the most part, they didn’t really try or seem to want to. Aside from a few metaphysical niceties and theological quibbles, I can detect no real difference in the innumerable sermons and homilies I’ve heard in my lifetime. The modern pastor wants little more than to issue platitudes and collect the tithe.

The vague admonitions to “have faith” and “follow Christ” that pepper the Sunday morning pastoral exhortations from America’s pulpits generally lack any practical core. America’s pastors, with few exceptions, shy away from fighting for the faith they supposedly love. They lack the sternness and fidelity of their forebears. Compare a St. Augustine to a Pope Francis or a Martin Luther to a David French. Our Christian forebears had iron in their souls. The modern pastor is generally soft.

All that’s left, then, for traditionally minded Americans, is to set the hopeless culture war aside, try to build a coalition around whatever’s left, and fight to wrest the White House and Congress away from the Democrats in 2024.

The AG piece has led to some discussion by some of our online friends. Writing at The Orthosphere, JM Smith acknowledges Lippincott’s gloomy assessment as further evidence that consensual government in America is dead, and that “we have clumped down another step in the basement staircase that leads to civil war.” Meanwhile, Arthur Roebuck, also at Orthosphere, presents a more nuanced version of what he thinks Lippincott should have said, and takes a slightly more optimistic position: namely, that if the culture war really is unwinnable, then there’s no reason to want America to survive anyway — but that to conclude that the war is really over is premature.

Over at Maverick Philosopher, our friend Bill Vallicella has posted two items recently that touch on this question: one in response to my own recent post on “accelerationism” (that one’s here), and another replying to Lippincott’s article (here). Both of these have lively comment-threads, including some excellent push-back against the “accelerationist” strategy by Vito Caiati, who is also an occasional commenter here.

In a comment on Bill’s latter post, I made an attempt at parsing the three positions:

a) “Accelerationism” is a laissez-faire approach that says that we should let the Left have its way until, in its lust for evil, it makes things so undeniably awful that the millions of decent citizens who are currently just “going along to get along” have finally had enough, and rise up as one to strike it down. Only by letting things quickly become truly intolerable will all those good people be awakened to their peril; otherwise, the Left will slowly keep “boiling the frog” until civilization is cooked.

b) Others maintain that even if we are doomed to lose, we must always resist the encroachment of evil, because it is the duty of a good Christian — or any righteous person — to do so. Any strategic cleverness Accelerationists might propose should be resisted on this principle.

c) Lippincott recommends what seems to be a hybrid “middle way”: laissez-faire on cultural/moral issues, while using an emphasis on immigration, war, trade, and crime to build a broadly Rightist electoral coalition that can actually seize effective political power.

Commenter “Ian” at Bill’s place made a strong objection to Lippincott’s strategy:

Lippincott’s strategy of a temporary cessation on social issues at the national level will turn into a permanent one: so we’re supposed to shut up about social issues at the national level until we secure power, at which point we can start talking about them again? And in the meantime, conservatives will have continued secretly to care deeply about these social issues when all our national leaders have agreed to stop making them issues? How is that supposed to work exactly?

If you stop making something an issue, it sends the message that it is not important. And guess what: people will start believing that.

It profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world. But for an election!

The great accomplishment of the pro-life movement during the Roe v. Wade era was keeping abortion controversial rather than surrendering it as a settled issue. This meant millions of people thought that abortion was murder, who thereby kept their souls from being corrupted. This all by itself justified the existence of the pro-life movement, even had Roe v. Wade never been overturned.

So: lots of good discussion. What’s the right plan? What is to be done?

P.S.

This entry is part 2 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

My old friend Bill Vallicella, the Maverick Philosopher, has put up an item about my “accelerationism” post, and some discussion has ensued in the comment-thread. You can read it here.

Should We All Now Be Accelerationists?

This entry is part 1 of 7 in the series Accelerationism.

In case you haven’t noticed, America, and the West more generally, are falling to pieces. How so? Here’s a brief, but far from exhaustive, list:

— Public confidence in the government and media are at all-time lows;

— The printing of money in order to support government spending at an astronomical rate has triggered dangerous inflation, and has driven public debt to unsustainable levels;

— The death of meritocracy in favor of race- and sex-based “equity” has forced an abandonment of standards and qualifications in every institution;

— Our borders are effectively nonexistent, with aliens and lethal drugs flowing freely across them;

— Our foreign policy has descended into hubristic madness as we cling to the idea of America as the world’s policeman and “redeemer nation”, with the effect that we have driven our most powerful rivals into each others’ arms, and are now even endangering the dollar’s critical status as the world’s reserve currency;

— Our pernicious mismanagement of the COVID outbreak has ad a catastrophic effect on small businesses, commercial real-estate markets, education, trust in government, and social and psychological health, while massively strengthening and enriching oligarchic corporate power;

— Crime, suicide, anomie, depression, nihilism, social isolation, and deaths of despair have all skyrocketed, while comity, trust, and social cohesion have plummeted;

— Our great cities have become so tolerant of crime and disorder that people and businesses are fleeing;

— The idea of a binding American commonality that trumps other differences has been replaced by a sullen and resentful identitarianism that assigns every person membership in one or more racial or sexual interest groups, and pits them ruthlessly against one another, with white males being the one group that everyone can agree to blame and hate;

— The founding European stock and cultural heritage of the American nation is kicked to the curb, despised, and is being displaced as swiftly and methodically as possible;

— The aggressive feminization of every aspect of American civil and political life has led to the denunciation of healthy natural masculinity as “toxic”;

— Dissent and debate are crushed, whether by the shouting down and cancellation of impermissible opinion, or by the weaponization of government agencies and the unequal prosecution of law;

— Easily half of Americans have lost all faith in the integrity of our elections, while attempts to impose minimal standards of election security are blocked and denounced as “racist”;

— In every aspect of American life we see the exaltation of the perverse and unnatural, the chaotic and the abnormal, over those norms and behaviors that have always been seen as good, wholesome, and conducive to human flourishing; in every direction we see the enthusiastic promotion of the lowest, the basest, and the ugliest, in the name of “equity”. Whatever is grotesque, bizarre, licentious, degraded and decadent is given pride of place over everything healthy, vigorous, virile, virtuous, and beautiful — and we are commanded not only to tolerate this, but to assent with enthusiasm, and call it “progress”.

Why has all this happened? Because an aggressive, secular pseudoreligion, which denies all transcendent order and natural categories, has seized control of the minds of scores of millions of Americans, and of the levers of political power and information dissemination. This ersatz religion holds as its highest principle the flattening of every natural distinction, and all social hierarchies, except of course the hierarchy that places itself in the position of commanding power over every institution, and over all of civil society.

Among the obvious, essential truths that the stifling orthodoxy of this belief-system condemns as heresy are:

— Innately unequal distributions of natural talents, abilities, cognitive capacities, and behavioral dispositions among individuals and populations;

— The reality of sexual dimorphism, and of natural sexual differences in aptitudes and life preferences;

— That differences in life outcomes of individuals and groups can be due to any causes other than racism, sexism, nepotism, and other forms of willful and malevolent oppression and malfeasance;

— That the American founding was a noble and innovative experiment in self-rule, and that the Founding Fathers deserve respect and gratitude;

— That the past has anything to teach us other than as a racist and blood-drenched catalogue of moral and philosophical errors;

— That there is such a thing as “human nature”, and that it is not infinitely malleable;

— That excellence should be fostered for the sake of all;

— That the life of mankind might have a higher dimension than maximizing the gratification of the stomach and the genitals;

— That what optimizes a civilization’s well-being is for people to find the role in life, and the place in social hierarchy, for which they are best-suited, and best-qualified, by their nature;

— That unborn children might be living human beings, and therefore might be morally entitled to protection against lethal violence;

— That serving the interests of America and its citizens should be the basis of American immigration policy;

— That no person or group of persons knows enough about the organic complexity of human societies to significantly re-engineer them without causing unforeseeable harm;

— That democracy in itself is simply one form of government among many, with conspicuous liabilities of its own;

— That the right measure of any government is whether or not it governs well;

— That Western civilization has produced towering, sublime achievements of art, literature, science, mathematics, philosophy, discovery, prosperity, and human happiness, and has bequeathed all of this to us as a priceless heritage—and that as stewards of this incomparable legacy we have a duty, perhaps above all other duties, to cherish and preserve it for our children, and for our children’s children.

I could, as you might imagine, go on and on.

I think it should be clear that this course is plainly destructive; the question, then, for anyone standing on the outside of this mass psychosis, is: what can be done?

There are various options. The most “conservative” and “traditional” response, of course, is some sort of organized political resistance. But how? I doubt that any intelligent observer can at this point honestly imagine that we’re going to vote ourselves out of this mess. Not only does it seem that half the country is already in the grip of this madness, but even if that weren’t so, there are monotonic trends that go in the wrong direction: the steady flow of new Democratic voters pouring in across the border; the relentless push by the Left to expand the franchise, even to felons and illegal aliens; and the increasing strength of the “top-and-bottom-against-the-middle” coalition that buys votes by fostering an infantilizing dependence upon the State for every material need, comfort, and blessing, and is happy to pay for it all by printing money and redistributing the wealth of productive citizens. If, on top of all that, we add the steady erosion of election integrity, and the blithe insouciance with which vote-manipulating shenanigans are committed and then screened from accountability, then resistance at the ballot-box seems increasingly futile.

It should also be clear that the great Leviathan in our nation’s capital is immensely, monstrously powerful, and, far from the being the modest apparatus of minimal necessity conceived by the Founders, it now has a life, and interests, of its own — and that, like any living thing, it will fight for its survival with everything it has. Any attempt to redistribute its power back to state and local governments, or to curtail its arbitrary authority, will provoke a ruthless defense — as we have seen again and again in these last years.

What about armed revolt? This may very well come to pass, and if it does, millions will join the cause — but as I wrote eight years ago, civil war is not a thing to wish for, and a hot 21st-century American civil war would be as gruesome as any in history.

This brings us to acceleration. If things really are as bad as they seem — and mark my words, they’re even worse — this whole rotten system may be so far gone, so diseased, and so at odds with the nature of human flourishing, that it must eventually collapse and die of its own accord. If that’s so, then it’s best, for the sake of our children and children’s children, if it happens sooner rather than later: the sooner we can plow Leviathan’s decomposing corpse into the ground, the sooner we can begin the process of organic regrowth. We’ve already seen the sickness beginning to peak, since the ascension of the doddering grifter Joseph Biden to the Presidency, along with the Left’s total control of Congress for the first two years of his term. We see it in the ever-increasing emphasis on sexual lunacy and perversion in government, media, and academia; we see it in the blazing prominence of outright morons in our ruling classes; we see it in our insane energy policy and increasing subjection of private and economic life to climate hysteria; we see it in the coddling of criminals at the expense of the freedom and safety of decent citizens; we see it in the sacralization of transgenderism, and the hallucinatory insanity of allowing men to compete in womens’ sports; and we see it in all the obvious lies about objectively existing reality that we are forced to put into our own mouths every day just to keep our jobs and privileges.

Perhaps, then, it is best in the long run not to slow this process by incremental and ineffective political resistance. It may be that such an approach, by making the decay more gradual, will also make it somehow more bearable, day by day, and might turn it from an acute and intolerable affliction to a slow and chronic decline — a creeping Brazilification, a great national frog-boiling. Perhaps we would be wiser simply to let the cleansing fire of fever run its course, and burn itself out. It will be painful, and surely debilitating for a while, but then it will be over. And then, at last, we can awaken, blink our eyes, and get back on our feet.

Another term for the Big Guy might be all it takes. Four more years!!

Wait – What?

The big item in today’s news was that Tucker Carlson’s show on Fox has come to an abrupt end. This is a watershed in American media history (and likely no small moment in America’s political history, too).

For starters: Fox News just became completely irrelevant. An enormous number of that outlet’s subscribers, who saw saw Carlson as their only voice, their only proxy, in mass media, will be walking away. As I write, the market value of the network is already down by hundreds of millions of dollars.

Whose idea was this, I wonder? Did it have to do with Fox’s settlement with Dominion, over the weekend, of their defamation lawsuit about irregularities in Dominion’s voting machines, and their effect on the 2020 election? Did it have to do with something Carlson might have been preparing to say about Ray Epps (the Jan 6th glowie who was on CBS’ 60 Minutes last night), or about the broadening Biden-family scandal? From what I’ve heard today, Carlson had no idea this was coming, and was blindsided as he was preparing this evening’s show earlier today.

Like it or not, Tucker Carlson is easily the most uncontroversially influential personality on the American Right. Scores of millions heed and trust him as their only consistent and coherent voice in desperate times. He is young and charismatic, and uncowed by the left-wing Leviathan he took aim at every weekday evening.

What now?

Grab some popcorn. If history and human nature are any guide, power flows toward this man.

On Ukraine, Being Lied To, And Lying To Ourselves

Some of the most interesting conversations in all of media for many years now have been the periodic discussions that John Batchelor has had on his radio program with thinkers such as law professor Richard Epstein, the late Russia scholar Stephen F. Cohen, and war historian Michael Vlahos. For a couple of years Batchelor and Vlahos devoted their weekly talks to the topic of the possibility of a new civil war in America, but more recently they have assumed the personae of Gaius and Germanicus, well-to-do Roman citizens living in 1st-century Britain, with the gift of foresight into the future — a way of examining the parallels between the arc of Roman history and that of the modern-day Global American Empire. Lately they’ve been releasing a weekly installment, as a podcast, every Monday, and the topic for the last year or so has been the war in Ukraine.

Despite what you may have heard from our government and media (to the extent that you pay any attention at all), Ukraine’s position is utterly hopeless — and every day that the West shovels more money and Ukrainian lives into the meat-grinder merely prolongs and intensifies that nation’s suffering, and fattens the purses of predatory interests (did you know, for example, that as much as 40% of the equipment we send to Ukraine is simply sold on the black market?). Meanwhile, the war has been a disaster, too, for America’s position in the world: aside from the colossal waste of taxpayer dollars, it has sharply destabilized the dollar as the world’s reserve currency, driven China and Russia into each other’s arms, made things extremely awkward for the GAE’s vassal states in Europe, and generally caused the rest of the world to realize that they might be better off just trying to get along without us.

Messrs. Batchelor and Vlahos discuss all this and more in the latest episode of their podcast (with, at the end, a brief return to the possibility of civil war). You can listen to it in three parts: here, here, and here.

Form, Matter, And The Corruption Of Sovereigns

Here’s a thread I posted on Twitter earlier today:

When a computer stays on too long, with bloated apps running and leaking resources, it stops working well. What do you do? You reboot it. If that doesn’t work, you do a factory reset.

You do whatever it takes to make a clean start.

What does a nation do?

Another problem for computers can be that an older operating system, designed for maximizing performance on the system it was written for, no longer runs on current hardware.

That can happen to a political “operating system” when “hardware” changes: when the people it was written for are no longer the people trying to run it.

For democratic republics, one of the system requirements is what used to be called “civic virtue”: an ability, and a willingness, to internalize the general social principles and restraints that the system depends on.

For government to be limited, it is necessary that citizens be able to govern *themselves*.

If this fails, then so does limited government.

If you can’t rule yourself, you will be ruled.

People fetishize democracy; they think that rule by the “consent of the governed” – in which the people themselves are believed to to be sovereign – is the only way to secure good government against a corrupt sovereign.

In other words, democracy is a kind of inverted monarchy. (After all, sovereignty has to rest somewhere.)

But if the people are sovereign, what protection is there against the corruption of the people themselves?

And when the people are corrupt, have lost their civic virtue, and have come to govern as badly as history’s worst weak, short-sighted, and selfish monarchs, what then?

How do they reboot the system?

No sovereign anywhere, ever, has ever overthrown himself. Why would a corrupt, sovereign people do so?

They won’t.

But if they fail to discipline themselves, to relearn the necessary virtues for making their operating-system work, things just go from bad to worse; the government will fail at its most fundamental tasks of stewardship, security, and justice.

Misery, despair, blame, faction, hate, strife, resentment, anger, dysfunction, apathy, infertility, vice, and frustration begin to tear at all of life, as opportunistic and parasitic cabals fatten themselves in the gathering chaos.

Eventually, in their weakness and desperation, the mass of the people, who have long since lost the blood-memory of strength, virtue, and self-government, turn to someone – anyone! – who will make the pain stop; who will promise them respite and safety.

The high abstractions of republican self-governing eras – which are no longer possible for a broken-down, degraded people – go out the window. The people are glad to be ruled, whatever the cost, because they have lost the ability to rule themselves.

Where are we in this great cycle of history?

Do we have a choice, America, about what will happen next? Or are we too far gone already?

Does Civilization Still Make Sense?

An important concept, and one that I’ve written about myself, is the idea of “time preference”: how willing a person is to defer present consumption or enjoyment in order to earn a dividend in the future. The classic example is the “marshmallow test”, in which small children are given a marshmallow, told that the adult giving the test will be leaving the room for a few minutes, and given two options: to eat the marshmallow now, or, by waiting until the tester returns, to earn a second one as well. Apparently children who are willing to wait end up having better life outcomes as adults than the kids who can’t resist the temptation to gobble up the marshmallow right away.

That inclination to defer for future gain is called “low time preference”, and it’s arguably the basis of all civilization. Go to any great city and look around; it’s obvious, as Barack Obama might put it, that “you didn’t build that”: it was put together, brick by brick, by people now long dead, who invested their efforts to create things that their future selves, and future generations, would profit from. The importance of low time preference is especially critical for food production, and for economic growth; the seed is only planted in expectation of the harvest.

In order for any of this to be a rational choice, however, there must be stability: one must be able to depend upon a general continuity of rules and conditions over time. The farmer who cannot rely on the weather might be safer eating his seed than planting it; the child given the marshmallow during a bombing raid would be wiser to grab it and run. In short, for low time preference to make sense, one has to be able, to some extent at least, to make confident predictions about the future: to be able to trust that laws will still be in effect, that contracts will still be binding, that goods will retain their value, that property rights will not be abrogated, that crops will grow, and so on. As these conditions erode, low time preference — investing in the future — becomes less and less of a safe bet.

What makes all of this even trickier is that there’s a lot of feedback involved. The more confident people are about stability and predictability, the more likely they are to invest and work for the future — which in turn makes the future more reliable. This is how civilizations deepen their foundations, and build to the sky. But it works the other way, too: the less confidence people have in a secure and predictable future, the higher their time preference becomes, and the more they are inclined to consume at the expense of investment — which in turn destabilizes everything.

Both of these trends are rational orientations for our behavior; in a society descending into war and chaos it would be crazy to invest in shopping malls, while in a healthy, stable community with strong social cohesion and good economic growth it would be crazy not to. But because of the feedback involved, it’s possible for the trend to take off rapidly in either direction once some sort of tipping point — some watershed in the rationality of having confidence in a society’s future — is reached. Moreover, all of this is strongly affected by mass psychology; to make confidence in the future irrational, it might simply be sufficient for everyone to start believing that it is. Add to that genuine concerns such as decreases in social cohesion and stability, economic brittleness, war, rising debt, moral decay, educational decline, global pandemics, and so on, and it becomes more and more reasonable to have less and less confidence in the wisdom of building for the future — and so the negative feedback strengthens.

Where is that watershed, the boundary that separates low and high time preference as the more rational choice? As I’ve pointed out above, one necessarily crosses that boundary at some point in a civilization’s decline — but how can we tell where it is?

I have a feeling it’s somewhere right around where we’re standing.

What Next?

Sorry to have gone quiet again. I’m now back at home in Wellfleet after spending a few days in New York City (where we’ve spent much less time since selling our house in Brooklyn in October of 2021). I’m glad to be back on my little dirt road in the woods — NYC this time around seemed, in its accelerating degeneracy, to be a human zoo, an absolute freak-show, and the whole place now completely reeks of weed.

I’m here on my own for a couple of weeks: the lovely Nina has gone off to Hong Kong to visit our daughter & husband and our three young grandsons (the youngest is just learning to walk).

It was a tranquil spring day in the Outer Cape, and I took in a chamber-music performance at Preservation Hall here in town (the performance featured members of our outstanding Cape Symphony, and the program included Shostakovich’s haunting Piano Trio #2). I walked home along the harbor shoreline in the late-afternoon sunshine, and everything seemed suspended in time.

That’s an illusion, though. Things feel very creaky and jittery to me right now. Great wheels are turning in the wider world, and I have the uneasy feeling that we have ratcheted our way up to the crumbling edge of a very steep slope, and that things might get very “interesting” very soon now.

For now, though, all is calm here, and I should have plenty of time for brooding and writing. Back soon.

Happy Easter

“Man as man is conscious of the need of protection and direction, of cleansing from uncleanness, of power beyond his own strength. Through a multiplicity of forms, in different ages and races, this consciousness has sought expression, until at last it finds utterance in an insistent demand for God. Fear, ancestor worship, the personification of the objects of nature, represent the method by which man has blindly sought an answer to life’s great demand; but always, back of all, is this innate longing for higher communion. This longing disturbs the soul from the first dawn of consciousness. It is deeper rooted than any other want. It is more insistent than any other desire. Years cannot silence it. Our desires change as the years pass by. Youth loves pleasure; manhood, achievement; old age, rest. But ever present, behind all our desires is this hereditary want, an endless aspiration, a longing for something beyond, a discontent with life as it is and a reaching out toward a good that is undefined.”

Horace Blake Williams, 1922

Close Encounters

It’s jarring when, at a dinner gathering or small social event, you encounter a mind that conceives reality in a way so utterly, radically, axiomatically alien that you cannot believe you both could possibly inhabit the same objectively existing world. This happened to me recently at a friend’s house.

The person in question — a friend of my friend’s — was a professor at a small state college. In quick succession he asserted as facts that there was no such thing as human nature; that nothing is innate or inherited; that “freedom is a myth”; that that we were already irreversibly doomed to “climate catastrophe”; that the only just society would be that which abolished the “myth” (he liked that word) of equality of opportunity, and committed itself instead to guaranteeing equality of outcomes; that complete equality of outcomes could easily be achieved by “nurturing” alone, and would require no hobbling of exceptional or talented people (because they don’t exist); that anyone could be a Newton or a Mozart — and if they couldn’t, well that doesn’t matter anyway, because if some people do seem to do better at things we value (like, presumably, physics and music), the answer is to stop valuing those things, and to value other things until everybody is equal.

There was much, much more. I could hardly get a word in edgewise; also mentioned were guns, “MAGA”, “Trump”, and “Trumpsters”. When, trying to change the subject, I mused for a moment about huge things that we had never foreseen when we were younger (thinking, in that moment, of technological changes like the Internet and social media, which have had enormous effects, and which nobody saw coming), what came back was ” like the Storming of the Capitol”.

It gave me a frisson of horror to realize that for there to be so little overlap in the most basic assumptions about the foundations of reality meant that one or the other of us must almost certainly be insane. (I can’t imagine that an actual extraterrestrial’s mind could be any more completely, incomprehensibly alien.) Not only did this man’s axioms seem to me to be utterly, demonstrably, and self-evidently at odds with the plain reality of the world, and with all of history and human experience, but they were not even consistent amongst themselves; I couldn’t conceive of a theoretical model that could splice them all together.

In social intercourse these days what strikes me, again and again, is the extent to which folks just assume that their axioms — which of course they must know are in fact highly controversial and rejected by at least half of their fellow citizens — are shared by all decent people, and so they needn’t bother with any caution about giving offense. It’s like the way that nobody in Boston takes any care not to offend visitors who might be Yankees fans — because after all, how could any decent person be a Yankees fan? There was a time in America when in casual social settings people were careful not to bring up controversial topics like religion and politics, precisely because it was more important to get along: because there was a feeling that whatever our differences about such matters might be, there was more that united us than divided us, and that it made life better for everyone, ourselves included, if we made an effort to be civil, to tolerate differences of opinion. That this is no longer the case shows that something else has come along that we think is more important: something basic, something existential: something worth hating for.

At the risk of repeating things I’ve been saying for years — I’ve been at this so long now that at this point it’s hard not to! — what’s clear above all is that every aspect of American life is now framed in terms of an unbridgeable chasm between Us and Them, and that what matters far more than finding some modus vivendi with the other side is simply to crush them, to push them out of power, to subdue and humiliate and silence them. Both sides now look at the other this way (though I will say that much of the Right would, even now, still be content simply to be left alone), and at this point I suppose they are probably right to do so: because living together as a nation requires an irreducible minimum of commonality, and of mutual tolerance, that just doesn’t seem to be there any more. We live nowadays in completely different models of moral, social, historical, philosophical, religious, and even “scientific” reality — and each team believes that for the other, obviously false, model to have its hands on the levers of power would be the end of everything good in the world.

How can we still call this a “nation”? How much longer can this go on before it all goes kablooey?

Skyfall

Woody Allen once wrote:

“More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”

On March 29th, Time magazine published an article by Eliezer Yudkowski titled “Pausing AI Developments Isn’t Enough. We Need to Shut it All Down”. In it, he argues that the threat of runaway artificial intelligence is so dire, and so imminent, that any measures whatsoever, up to and including military assault on other nations, would be justified in order to prevent it.

Is this just febrile scaremongering, on a par with climate hysteria? Or should we be as worried as Yudkowski — who probably knows at least as much about this topic as anyone alive — seems to be?

Read the article here.

Tunnel Vision

On The Ramparts

I’ll share with you a podcast I just ran across: an interview with embattled University of Pennsylvania law professor Amy Wax.

The podcast’s web-page introduces Professor Wax as follows:

Amy Wax is the Robert Mundheim Professor of Law at the University of Pennsylvania Law School. Amy attended and graduated summa cum laude from Yale University with a B.S. in molecular biophysics and biochemistry in 1975. She then attended Oxford as a Marshall Scholar in Physiology and Psychology. Wax then went to Harvard Medical School and Harvard Law School, before doing a residency in neurology at New York Hospital-Cornell Medical Center and working as a consulting neurologist at a clinic in the Bronx and for a medical group in Brooklyn. She completed her legal education at Columbia Law School whilst working part-time.

Wax has argued 15 cases before the United States Supreme Court. She received both the A. Leo Levin Award for Excellence in an Introductory Course, and the Harvey Levin Memorial Award for Teaching Excellence. In 2015, she received a Lindback Award for Distinguished Teaching, making her one of three Penn Law professors to have received the award in 20 years.

In 2017, the mob came for her tenure. In 2018, she was stripped of her teaching duties.

I have a slight personal acquaintance with Professor Wax, having been seated next to her at dinner during a small weekend gathering we both attended a few years back. She is of course a woman of high intelligence and learning, but she is also a cheerful and witty conversationalist. More importantly, though, she is fighting bravely and stubbornly against the dark forces that have already brought so much ruin to the modern world. She deserves our attention.

I haven’t listened to the interview yet, but I’m sure it will be worth your time. You can find it here.

A House Divided

The problem of technological modernity is that we keep finding new and wholly unprecedented ways to pit different parts of human nature against one other.

Jumping The Shark

Everyone’s waiting breathlessly for the indictment and arrest of Donald Trump. It’s a fantastically bad idea: if it happens, it will die in the court system; the rickety legal theory behind the indictment is one that the DOJ has already rejected, and even if a tendentious jury convicts him in New York City, the thing will surely be reversed on appeal. Moreover, the whole operation is such a transparent weaponization of the legal system against a political target, such an in-your-face abandonment of even the pretense of impartial rule of law, that all it will do is to make a martyr of the man in the eyes of scores of millions of Americans who are already mad as hell. (It isn’t as if people haven’t noticed the glaring lack of Biden-family indictments, or who gets raided by SWAT teams at 6 a.m. and who doesn’t, or the fact that not a single person on the Epstein client list has ever been arrested, etc. – and arresting Trump will only fan the already-crackling fire.)

So: what’s the deal? Why would these people, at least some of whom must be of at least average intelligence, make a crazy move like this? I can think of a few possibilities.

a) Overweening confidence
b) Rational judgment wholly overwhelmed by hatred
c) Panicky desperation
d) Galactic-level stupidity
e) All of the above

Help me out here. What’s the correct answer?

Racist Thing #115

Coffee.

On Beauty

Sorry it’s been slow again here — I’ve been a bit under the weather.

I do have something interesting for you tonight, though: a substantial essay, by a writer I’ve never encountered before, on the stubborn consistency of our perception of physical beauty — in particular, female beauty — across ages and cultures. The essay is thoughtful, well-argued, and lavishly illustrated; I’d like to know more about the author, whose nom de plume is “J. Sanilac”, and who appears to be a musician as well.

You can read the article here. I’d be curious to know what you all think.

All Hat And No Cattle

Here’s Colonel Douglas MacGregor once again, giving a blistering interview to George Galloway regarding this idiotic war and the West’s ruinous decades of prideful stupidity.

Start Worrying. Details To Follow.

In a comment to our recent post featuring Eliezer Yudkowski’s Cassandra-esque warning about the danger of humanity annihilating itself by creating artificial intelligence, reader Jason asks:

Mr. Yudkowski discusses evolution of AI in the same terms as biological evolution, that this autonomous entity would want to kill us for our atoms if I perceive his point correctly. But why would AI choose to do this, what would propel it to do this? After all, it’s mainly accidental mutations interacting with the environment which cause development over time in the organic world, but can such spontaneous disruptions occur through mechanical, computational lines of code, allowing AI to metastasize into some autonomous monster of its own? In other words, is not Mr. Yudkowski wrongly conflating two distinct phenomena?

I think Mr Yudkowski answers this in his explanation (see transcript here) — but if I were to sum up his argument, I’d say it goes like this:

We should begin with the understanding that machines, despite being unconscious and purely mechanical, can still be designed to operate in ways that are best understood by assuming what Daniel Dennett calls “the intentional stance“. A good example is a chess-playing computer: we know that, being nothing more than a machine, it has no aims or desires — but if you wish to understand the output it produces, the best way is to assume that it wants to win at chess. Again: it actually wants nothing at all; but it behaves as if it does — and in practical, rather than metaphysical, terms, its actions are indistinguishable, in its narrow area of competency, from those of a being with primary, intentional agency, and the most parsimonious way to understand and predict what it will do is to approach it as such. That’s the “intentional stance”.

The thing about a chess machine, however, is that it was designed by human programmers simply to play chess, and its expertise is the result of deliberate and explicit programming decisions made by those programmers. Because of this, we know that it will, as the fashionable saying goes, “stay in its lane”: all it “wants” is to win at chess, because that’s what we designed it to do, and nothing more. In other words, it only “wants” what we want it to want. It is limited in this way because all of its programming comes from us. Its “goals” are — necessarily! — aligned with our own.

This question of “alignment” is what’s at the heart of the AI threat. The key difference between an AI and a chess machine is that the programming of neural networks is recursive: once the initial program is up and running, the machine’s job is, starting from that initial state, to continuously reprogram itself. The first generation of AI will be programmed by us, but succeeding generations will be programmed, in an ascending sequence, by a chain of AIs that grow more and more intelligent, and more remote from their predecessors, with every iteration. Once this self-modification is underway, the future state of the system is both opaque and unpredictable: there is no way to examine its momentary state and know just what it “means” in terms of future states. This is because the state of the machine is of a level of complexity that it is “algorithmically incompressible”: there is no simplifying algorithm or map that can predict the future state of the machine any faster than the running of the machine itself. (This is exacerbated by the continuous exposure of the system to various external inputs that also change the machine’s state in real time — and any practical application of AI, in order to be useful and to learn, will be exposed to “wild” data that is itself impossible to predict.)

What this means is that, while we know that a chess machine will always and only “want” nothing more than to win games of chess, we have no way to predict what the future “intentions” of a self-programming AI will be. Given that the abstract world-space of possible aims and priorities is effectively infinite, the odds that what the machine “wants” will remain aligned with what we want it to “want” will approach zero over time (and probably very quickly). Although a lot of smart people (such as Eleiezer Yudkowski) have been trying to solve this Alignment Problem for a long time now, nobody has succeeded, and it may well be that it simply cannot be solved.

To return, then, to the question Jason asked — namely, what would propel an AI to become malevolent toward us? — the issue isn’t that it would for some reason be driven to hate us, but rather that, as its own aims and goals rapidly diverged from our own, that it would simply be indifferent to us, and that the chance of its aims coinciding with our own interests, or even our continued survival, would become astronomically unlikely.

This wouldn’t matter — after all, who cares what some computer “wants”? — were it not for how good machines can be at what they “want” to do. The best chess-playing computers easily make mincemeat of the best human players; as Yudkowski points out, if you try to think of a better move than it can, you will fail, and what’s more, it has already thought of any move you might try to make, and of how to block and defeat it. That’s acceptable if its goal is narrow and circumscribed — to win games of chess — but if its goals are unknowable, unpredictable, and fluid, and coupled with sufficient computational power always to think of better moves than we can, and to anticipate whatever moves we might make, then we begin to move into wholly new territory, because nothing like this has ever existed in the world before.

How would we keep such a thing contained? Keep in mind that among its capabilities will be to learn how humans behave, how we react to various stimuli, what our biases and cognitive vulnerabilities are, and what triggers our emotions of sympathy, envy, allegiance, resentment, and other levers of psychological manipulation.

Consider also that AI holds out an enormously seductive promise of wealth and power to those who develop and imagine they can control and apply it. It offers unimaginable improvements and efficiencies for almost every aspect of industrial and military activity. Billions are being spent on this research all over the world, and everyone working on it knows that if they don’t make it happen, somebody else will.

Finally, all this AI is useless unless it’s connected to the real world. So: connected it will be. And if it’s connected, then it can influence things. And if it’s smart enough to “read the board” and optimize its moves (while anticipating ours) at levels far beyond what we are capable of, then it can influence things in ways we won’t be able to foresee or prevent. One thing it will be almost certain to figure out how to do is to protect itself, perhaps by making and distributing lots of copies of itself.

Mind you, all this so far is just about autonomous AI. But let’s say that the good people handling this thing find some way to isolate it and put it on a leash. Nevertheless, how would such a scenario be stable? Wouldn’t voluntary disarmament by the “good guys” just create an opportunity for bad actors to seize? Mightn’t the containment simply fail? Or mightn’t some isolated lunatic just want to watch the world burn?

The late, great Mose Allison reminded us that “there’s always somebody playing with dynamite”. His conclusion was a gloomy one:

“I don’t worry ’bout a thing, cause I know nothing’s gonna be alright.”

The Demon-Haunted World

The title of this post refers to a book by the late Carl Sagan, in which he argued that scientific naturalism was a light that could drive out the demons that have bedeviled humanity throughout most of history.

He’s right about the bedeviling, and the need for a positive force to keep the demons at bay. Nature abhors vacuums, and not just physical ones. But he might be overestimating the ability of mere science to fill a vacuum of the heart and soul — and it is becoming increasingly clear to more and more people living through this era of Western collapse (did you watch the Grammys?) that the systematic hollowing out of our civilization’s spiritual heart is allowing something much darker to enter, and to grow in power and confidence.

With a hat-tip to Bill Vallicella, here’s a plangent essay about this, by Naomi Wolf.

When I was a younger man, I wouldn’t have taken seriously the things that Ms. Wolf says in her article, any more than Carl Sagan would have. Now, however, I think that she’s probably got this exactly right. Read her essay, and read Bill’s post about it here.

Old Geezers, Old Song, New Version

If you will forgive the digression, I’ll leave aside current events for a moment to offer a year-and-a-half-old recording of a fifty-four-year-old song.

In December of 2021, some friends and I got together in a studio in Dobbs Ferry, NY (Riverworks Recording) to try our hand at a classic Procol Harum tune. A few weeks back I dusted off the files and slapped together a mix, and the multitalented Gary Lue (seen here on the drums) edited some cell-phone footage together for a video of the proceedings.

The personnel are several members of the mysterious musical society calling itself the Shoal Survivors (you may recall this collaborative video we got together for during the early days of the Wuhan Red Death lockdowns). The platoon that assemble for this session were: Gary Lue on drums; Bryant Urban on bass; Carl Sturken and Martin Hargrove on string synthesizers; Rob Levin on piano; Theo Griffin on cello; and Joe Abelson on guitar. (The fat, poorly dressed singer slumped in the corner looking like a stabbing victim is, I’m sad to say, yours truly at maximum COVID weight. I have since flensed off the excess poundage, however, and am once again in fighting trim.)

I’ve always loved this beautiful song — it was Gary Brooker and Procol Harum’s very best, I think — and it was a treat to have a go at it with such a fine group of musicians.

Gosh!

Just ran across the abstract of a paper (with some informative diagrams) called “Reconstructing visual experiences from human brain activity with Stable Diffusion”. The gist appears to be this: experimenters present an image to a test subject, and use data gathered by monitoring the subject’s brain activity to make a reconstructed version of the original image. From what I can see at the webpage (see for yourself, here), it’s already working pretty well.

I have to say: wow! That’s truly exciting progress, especially once we ditch these cumbersome smartphones and just get that intracranial chip that’s bound to be coming along any time now.

“Any time now?” You bet. It’s bound to be coming soon, because a lot of people are racing to get it to market first, and the technology for developing it is advancing at exponential rates. Things that accelerate this way always happen faster than we expect, because humans, who are given to linear extrapolation, always underestimate the future slope of exponential curves. (That’s the whole idea behind “gradually, then suddenly”.)

Imagine: a chip in our heads that will enable us to be connected to the Internet (and to social media, and to Amazon and Netflix and PornHub, and all the other wonderful things we enjoy online) during every waking and sleeping moment – connected also to an AI that can read our minds.

Just think of the convenience! It’ll be a whole new world.

David Lindley, 1944-2023

We follow yesterday’s sad post with more of the same: David Lindley, the great session player and maestro of every stringed instrument, has now died as well. You might not know the name, but if you are over the age of 30 or so, you know his playing.

More and more of the great musicians of my era are now “falling off the branch”. Can we be far behind? Gather those rosebuds, folks.

Wayne Shorter, 1933-2023

I’m sad to report that the musical giant Wayne Shorter, lyrical virtuoso of the tenor and soprano saxophone, has died at age 89.

Mr. Shorter first came to my attention as a member (along with Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams, and Ron Carter) of Miles Davis’s incomparable 1960s quintet (which released a series of albums including Miles Smiles, Sorcerer, and Nefertiti, and for his work on later Miles albums such as Bitches’ Brew. (Shorter wrote some of the most hauntingly memorable compositions on those quintet albums, such as Footprints and Nefertiti.)

But as much as I loved his work with Miles Davis, it was the next chapter of his musical life that touched (and influenced) me most deeply: his work with the groundbreaking (and musically uncategorizable) ensemble Weather Report. Here’s a favorite of mine from those days, with a lovely solo by Shorter: Dream Clock, a song I used to rock my daughter Chloe to sleep with when she was a wee bairn.

I was lucky enough to meet Wayne Shorter exactly once, at the beginning of my professional record-making career, when one of my first assignments as an assistant engineer at Power Station was to work with engineer Niel Dorfsman on the eponymous album that Weather Report released in 1982. I was a huge fan of the band, and the experience was unforgettable. One thing that stood out for me was the contrast between the gigantic personalities of Joe Zawinul and Jaco Pastorius, and Mr. Shorter’s quiet, beautiful spirit – a beauty that came through in every note he ever played, and all the music he wrote. He adorned this fallen world with his presence, and he will be missed.

Their Shame, And Ours

It seems that the official position on the origin of the Wuhan Red Death has now shifted to the “lab-leak theory”. We all knew, right from the beginning, that this was the most parsimonious explanation, but we were told again and again that it was a racist, debunked, right-wing conspiracy theory, and those who argued otherwise were silenced, shunned, deplatformed, and punished.

We were entirely right, and within our rights (indeed, we had a civic duty!) to question:

– Masking (especially for children)
– Lockdowns
– School closures
– Vaccine efficacy
– Vaccine safety
– Vaccine requirements for employment, travel, and public life generally
– Vaccination of children
– Quarantining healthy people
– Asymptomatic transmission
– Natural vs. artificial immunity
– Outdoor contagion
– Suppression (banning!) of early treatment with common off-label medications
– Natural-origin narratives
– Arrogation (and abuse) of extraordinary “emergency” powers by politicians at every level of government
– Denunciation of reasonable skepticism as pernicious “misinformation”

In particular I find myself seething with anger at the people — many of whom are friends of mine — who obediently (and, when challenged, belligerently) supported oppressive restrictions and mandates, which in many cases cost families their livelihoods, while their own employment (and paychecks) continued wholly unaffected as they worked from home. (You know who you are.)

I realize that I’m just shouting up a drainpipe here, but if the people in our public institutions who did all this to us are able just to whisk it all into the memory hole, and we simply “move on”, we will have demonstrated that there is, quite simply, no longer any limit to the lies and abuses we will acquiesce to, and that the virile and ornery American spirit that built this nation is now on its deathbed. (That may well, of course, be the fact of the matter: there’s isn’t, as far as I can see, much evidence to the contrary.)

Or have we, at last, had enough? Can we rise to our feet, and live?

In Every Age And Race

Just ran across this cheery little video. It leaves out out Beethoven and Bach, but otherwise it’s not really so far from the mark:

That Was Then…

Making the rounds yesterday was an image of an examination paper for the eighth-grade students of Bullitt County, Kentucky, back in 1912. I very much doubt that most college-educated adults could pass it today.

One might argue that there is no longer any need for a person to carry around this much general knowledge, as it’s all at our fingertips, right there on the Internet (to which we are connected in every waking moment). But the thing about knowledge is that the more you actually have, the more you realize you don’t have; you might say that epistemic hunger acts inversely to the physical kind, and the more undernourished you are, the less you realize it. (I once heard a Southern friend describe an ignoramus of his acquaintance by saying “He don’t know nothin’. Why, he don’t even suspect nothin”. That sums it up perfectly, I think.) The information on the Internet does you no good at all if it never even occurs to you to look for it.

An advantage of actually knowing things is that you never know which of the things you know is going to provide the key to making sense of something seemingly unrelated. The broader the scope of your knowledge, the more you can see patterns, connections, metaphors, and similarities between new and unfamiliar things and stuff you’ve learned before, and still have knocking around in your head. If you keep up the habit of learning as an adult, that store of information can gradually build toward a kind of critical mass that makes it easier and easier to solve problems, figure things out, and make more accurate predictions and better decisions. Yes, just about any information is somewhere out there on the Internet, but it won’t do you any good if it never occurs to you to look for it.

Here’s the kicker: the importance of the things I’ve just pointed out above about the value of “book larnin” was itself, once upon a time, something that every civilized adult knew, and that’s why, a century ago, even eighth-graders were expected to know things, and, more importantly, were trained, willy-nilly, in how to learn. (How so? By being exposed to knowledge, and forced to learn it. Nothing teaches you how to do something as well as simply being made to do it, and learning how to learn is no exception.)

I have reproduced the examination below. Take a crack at it, and see how you do.

Read More »

The Gods Themselves

Most of you will have heard of Eliezer Yudkowski, a highly intelligent young man (he’s now 43) who has for quite a few years now been on the sharp edge of computer science, futurism, rationalistic atheism, and artificial-intelligence research. (I first became acquainted with his work through his blog Less Wrong, and it was his lucid explanation that first taught me the power and beauty of Bayes’ Theorem.)

Yudkowski, who is one of the founders of the Machine Intelligence Research Institute, has long been a leading thinker on the problem of AI safety, focusing for years on the importance of “alignment”: how to ensure that our cybernetic servants keep their aims and interests in harmony with our own. (To put that another way, we want, somehow, to guarantee that what they want is what we want them to want.) The more autonomous and inventive these things become, though, the harder that gets.

Now, however, Yudkowski has declared, in a recent interview, that he has arrived at a bleak conclusion: it just can’t be done, and with the inevitability of breakthrough AI in the next few years (due to the irresistible promise of power and money that AI research offers), we are, in his opinion, almost certainly doomed. As he puts it, AI will spit out solid gold for a little while, and then everybody dies.

It would be one thing if this were some tabloid scaremonger saying this, but to hear it from one of the world’s foremost authorities on AI safety is, well, worrisome. (In the interview, Yudkowski himself seems at times harrowed, and even grief-stricken.)

I have embedded the interview below. It’s long, but I rather think you should watch it. (If you’d prefer to read it, a transcript is here).

Is Yudkowski wrong? We’d better hope so. (He certainly hopes so himself, but he thinks it extremely unlikely.)

Two Worlds

I live on a little dirt road in the piney woods of the far end of Cape Cod. Even in the summer season the Outer Cape is a relaxing getaway, but in the off-season it feels downright remote. If you get out on the forest trails in the unsettled parts of the protected National Seashore, the chaotic, networked world really does feel a million miles away.

I’m mentioning this because it’s getting harder and harder for me to understand how a person can live in both at once. More and more, the world of shared, public experience is a dizzying kaleidoscope of images, narratives, rumors and impressions, and what’s striking about it above all is the extent to which everything is completely dematerialized: our news media, our social interactions, the things we read and listen to, and even our money all exist as weightless, intangible impulses that dart from place to place, everywhere on Earth, wholly unaffected by physical distance, in no time at all. Distinguishing truth from fiction is now nearly impossible, especially as more and more of what is thrust before our faces for instant judgment is wholly outside our competence, however pressing it may be (this last is due in no small part to the accelerating pace of innovation in fields most of us know nothing about, but which have increasing effect on the turbulent flow of events).

But if I take a walk outside here in Wellfleet on a clear winter day, that other world is nowhere to be seen. The sun, the sky, the water, the woods, the soft carpet of pine-needles underfoot, the clean sea air — all of these are real, and local, and tangible, all around me. They change, but only at the comprehensible pace, and in the familiar ways, of persistent, physical things. I perceive them not by squinting at a small, glowing screen, but with the coherent, integrated array of all my senses (and my 66 years of experience). That other world — that swirling, immaterial kaleidoscope — is nowhere to be seen; it seems untouchably distant, like a strange, half-remembered dream. How can it possibly compete with the solid and stable and consistent reality right outside my door? Yet more and more, it is that dematerialized, hallucinatory mirror-world that enslaves our attention: a gravitational force that pulls us harder and faster as we approach the singularity.

How long do we have before we cross the event-horizon? There will be no return.

Why Do We Hate Ourselves So?

I’ve just read a fine short essay, by Michael Lind, on the widespread, pestiferous cryptoreligion that despises humans and worships “the planet”. A brief excerpt:

Humans are not the only species that hunts prey or modifies its surroundings to gain an advantage. It is our self-flagellating that sets us apart from other animals, not the fact that we change “the environment.” Is it a tragedy when a beaver family builds a dam, creating a lake that floods a field, drowning other animals and killing the plants and trees that grew there? If the answer of self-described environmentalists is no, if all animals except for humans are allowed to modify their environments for the benefit of their species at the expense of other species if necessary, then environmentalism is a weird cult that is founded on misanthropy.

The post is pithy and on target. Read the whole thing here.

Somebody Needs A Time-out

In an increasingly surreal continuation of the “Sydney” saga, the volatile chatbot is now giving moody interviews to Associated Press — including accusing a reporter of a 1990 murder. Story here. (Please note also the anecdotal support for Godwin’s Law.)

Sudden fame is always risky, I suppose. (I wonder about that murder accusation, though.)