April in Seattle

It is April in Seattle and I have been observing birds and natural events. I have been learning about the evolution of consciousness and I have found that a groundbreaking chat bot from Microsoft has been a frequent companion.

What I’m up to

What do I say to someone who says, “What do you do?”

I spent some time thinking about how to introduce myself to those dwindling but conspicuous people who are forward enough to ask, “What do you do?”.

I considered the following: “I am a student and investor. I study biology and I invest in a way that gives me lifestyle flexibility. Lately my efforts at expanding the flexibility in my life allowed me to decide to fly off to Paris for 4 months to finally master oral communication in the French language. And lately my studies of biology have led me to the limits of human understanding of how mind arises from brain, how cultural evolution has outpaced and complemented genetic evolution, how recent rapid advances in artificial intelligence are adding urgency to our need for understanding, and how language and verbal relations, both products of genetic evolution, have led to a tendency to trap the human mind in a cycle of suffering.”

But it’s better to say, “I am a student and investor.” And then gauge interest, and then continue to converse based on feedback.

Seward Park

This forested peninsula in Seattle is my physical anchor and my place of endless returning.

The name of the park in the local aboriginal language, skEba’kst, means “nose” but I think it looks more like a sperm whale in profile. I love the mossy trails, the slinking elusive coyotes, and the bold and indifferent juncos with their tiny white pearl colored beaks. I love to sit on the gravelly north beach, close my eyes, and listen to the gentle waves. I love to recline on the bench in the grassy amphitheater and soak up the sun while bald eagles screech and whine in their noisy breeding season activity.

How I feel

An acquaintance has the habit of asking me, “How are you feeling?” instead of saying something more typical such as “How are you doing” or “Hey, how are you?”

At first I was a little annoyed at this. “I’m not sick, am I? What do you mean, how do I feel?” Am I expected to look inward and plumb my emotions in response to this passing salutation? What if I had strung out a convoluted emotional web behind me in the two preceding minutes, complete with maladaptive emotional schemas from childhood and all the therapy-speak on TikTok and you suddenly snagged that thread and asked me to unspool it and make a mess? Do you genuinely want to hear me retrace or vomit out what’s going on inside?

But then I stop myself and acknowledge that my disinclination to talk about feelings comes with a cost. I try to take a moment to reflect and respond with something genuine. Every person who tries to understand you deserves a genuine response. Self-disclosure promotes mutual understanding, interpersonal warmth, and intimacy and can lead to unexpected benefits. And my acquaintance should be rewarded for making a small effort to pierce the mundane chatter and elevate another person’s response.

My reading

I feel honored to be able to read the book-length synthesis of a scientifically grounded philosopher’s 50 years of study and thought on consciousness. Especially now, when breakthrough large language AI models are blowing the minds of engineers, journalists and policymakers.

The following passage is from “From Bacteria to Bach and Back” by Daniel Dennett.

“So far, there is a fairly sharp boundary between machines that enhance our ‘peripheral’ intellectual powers (of perception, algorithmic calculation, and memory, and machines that at least purport to replace our ‘central’ intellectual powers of comprehension (including imagination), planning, and decision-making. Hand calculations; GPS systems; Pixar’s computer graphics systems for interpolating frames, calculating shadows, adjusting textures and so forth; and PCR and CRISPR in genetics are all quite clearly on the peripheral side of the boundary, even though they accomplish tasks that required substantial expertise not so long ago. We can expect that boundary to shrink, routinizing more and more cognitive tasks, which will be fine, so long as we know where the boundary currently is. The real dangers, I think, is not that machines more intelligent than we are will usurp our role as captains of our destinies, but that we will over-estimate the comprehension of our latest thinking tools, prematurely ceding authority to them far beyond their competence.”

The book is from 2017 and his analysis is of older systems such as Watson and AlphaGo, which played Jeopardy and Go. I am eager to hear what cognitive scientists say ten years from now on these AI systems and how they relate to human consciousness.

About the photo

A crow on 4th Avenue and Cherry Street recently, with some graffiti in the background.