You’re allowed to say “X is the action I would want to take, but I wouldn’t be able to”
I don’t think this statement is logically consistent. Unless you’re restrained by some outside force, if you don’t do something, that means you didn’t want to do it. You might hypothesize that you would have wanted it within some counterfactual scenario, but given the actual circumstances, you didn’t want it.
The only way out of this is if we dispense with the concept of humans as individual agents altogether, and analyze various modules, circuits, and states in each single human brain as distinct entities that might be struggling against each other. This might make sense, but it breaks down the models of pretty much all standard ethical theories, utilitarian and otherwise, which invariably treat humans as unified individuals.
But regardless of that, do you accept the possibility that at least in some cases, bullet-biting on moral questions might be the consequence of a failure of imagination, not exceptional logical insight?
I don’t think this statement is logically consistent. Unless you’re restrained by some outside force, if you don’t do something, that means you didn’t want to do it.
It’s not always that simple. It would be inconsistent if our actions could be reduced to a simple utility function and we consistently used the word (and emotion) “want” to refer to actions that maximize that utility function, but neither of those are the case, because we’re not intelligently-designed optimization processes. Our brains don’t act under a single unified goal system, and very often the part of us that says it wants to do x, or the part that believes it wants to do x, or the part that would be happy if it could do x, or the part that feels bad if it doesn’t do x — any of the parts where it feels like “wanting” rather than “doing” — isn’t always the part that makes the decision. (In fact, in a direct causal sense, I’d say it’s not the part that makes the decision, period. Sometimes it just seems like they’re the same when they’re properly synchronized.) Neither is the part that makes moral judgments on one’s own actions and on other’s actions, and so on.
Have you read any of the discussions of akrasia here? That’s essentially shorthand for what we’re talking about here (wanting to do something but not doing it), and if you are willing to discuss it on human terms — in terms of what humans actually mean when they say “want” rather than what a single-minded decision-theoretic reasoner would mean by it* — then such discussions can be quite fruitful, and not logically inconsistent or meaningless at all.
* If such an agent would say it at all, that is. It could be taken as a mistranslation, in the same sense that Eliezer says translating any of the Babyeaters’ words about their own decisions as “right” would be a mistranslation. If a perfect decision-theoretic agent’s utility function specifies some action, then by definition, it will automatically pursue that; there’s no room for any “wanting” there, just deciding and doing. Indeed, the very fact that we have different words for “want” and “pursue” reflects the reality that we can and very frequently do one but not the other.
Have you read any of the discussions of akrasia here? That’s essentially shorthand for what we’re talking about here (wanting to do something but not doing it), and if you are willing to discuss it on human terms — in terms of what humans actually mean when they say “want” rather than what a single-minded decision-theoretic reasoner would mean by it* — then such discussions can be quite fruitful, and not logically inconsistent or meaningless at all.
Yes, I’ve read lots of stuff written about akrasia on this blog. This would be a topic for a whole separate discussion, but to put it as briefly as possible, in general I’m highly suspicious of such concepts. I view them through what Bryan Caplan calls the “Gun-to-the-Head Test” (I had actually come up with the exact same argument independently before I read about it from Caplan):
Can we change a person’s behavior purely by changing their incentives? If we can, it follows that the person was able to act differently all along, but preferred not to; their condition is a matter of preference, not constraint. I will refer to this as the “Gun-to-the-Head Test.” If suddenly pointing a gun at alcoholics induces them to stop drinking, then evidently sober behavior was in their choice set all along.
Note how different this is from people who have no control of their behavior even under this test. A Parkinson patient can’t stop shaking his hands, and a person with normal nerves can’t refrain from the knee jerk when struck into the patellar ligament, no matter what you threaten them with.
Ultimately, I believe that people engage in akrasia and “addictive” behaviors because they sincerely want it. Procrastination and substance abuse are fun and pleasant, and may well be worth a large cost for those sufficiently fond of them. And if these people can subsequently claim that their socially disapproved behaviors were somehow against their will and this way lower their cost by assuaging their reputational consequences—well, no wonder that such excuses are popular. Saying that you would “want” to avoid procrastination is just ritual signaling behavior, just like smokers saying that they “want” to quit.
I should add that this is a complex topic, to which this brief post doesn’t do justice, but this does summarize my view on the matter.
Yes, your comment establishes that there exists a reason to make the following classifications:
a) going for a jog when you say you want to go for a jog and like the health benefits and feel good while jogging → preference for jogging
and
b) smoking despite saying you don’t want to smoke and being aware of the bad consequences for your body and lifespan and wishing smoking did not give you short-term pleasure (and vice versa) → preference for smoking
However, to get to the root of the akrasia question, that’s not enough. You would need to show that there is no significant, useful difference between those “preferences” that would justify having different labels for them. Do you really believe that the same kind of “preferring” is going on in a) as in b)?
However, to get to the root of the akrasia question, that’s not enough. You would need to show that there is no significant, useful difference between those “preferences” that would justify having different labels for them. Do you really believe that the same kind of “preferring” is going on in a) as in b)?
I don’t have a complete theory of akrasia and related behaviors; in fact, I don’t think we know enough about these issues yet to say the final word. However, from what I’ve observed, I do think that the preferences in (a) and (b) are essentially the same, though of course the details of the cost/benefit calculus are different. The relevant difference between them lies in their social signaling consequences, not in the nature of the preferences as such. In the contemporary culture, exercise carries positive signals, so if you exercise, it is, if anything, something to brag about. Smoking carries negative signals, so it’s in your interest to present it as something you can’t control.
My further (and more controversial) relevant observation is that the contemporary public and expert opinion is biased in favor of claims of helplessness and victimhood. Thus, for example, as smoking is considered more and more immoral, smokers will be judged less negatively if they claim to be helpless addicts swindled by the predatory tobacco industry than if they just say “I like it, and it’s none of your business.” Similarly, people who prefer the pleasures of drinking and drugs will be viewed less judgmentally if they plead “addiction” than if they just admit that they accept the costs of these pleasures, which can sometimes be very large. (Note the change in their behavior when the cost is greatly increased in the gun-to-the-head test!)
To make such a plea, however, you need to suffer from an officially approved “addiction.” You can’t successfully plead helplessness and victimhood if you suffer from the urge to write blog comments instead of doing work, even though many people will testify that this urge can be far greater than the lure of officially “addictive” behaviors. (Though this might change in the future as the concept of “internet addiction” gains official circulation.) In any case, the important point here is that when you’re tempted to claim that someone honestly “wants” to behave differently from what he actually does, you should consider that your judgment might be skewed by these prevailing biases. (And if you doubt the existence of these biases, just remember the likes of Tiger Woods pleading “sex addiction”!)
That said, I do find the practical discussions of akrasia and similar behaviors valuable. Someone who is truly willing to eliminate some such behavior will want to minimize the costs of eliminating it. Moreover, a good anti-acrasia technique can also work by expanding the set of choices and providing and alternative that offers as much satisfaction even without the damaging behavior.
Please don’t misunderstand. I’m very sympathetic toward that view, and I agree it can explain a great number of cases. Many of the specific points you made there I agree with as well, especially about Tiger Woods and “sex addiction”. I’ve also written diatribes (that I won’t dredge up) about how people go great lengths to rationalize consumption of alcoholic drinks to make them socially acceptable, when really they just want to get high. Heck, I’ve even tried, long ago, getting myself addicted to legal substances that are on the socially-endorsed “addictive” list, and failed.
What I dispute is that it’s a full explanation applicable to all asserted cases of akrasia. For example, it runs into these problems: If you did a gun-to-the-head test on the chain smoker and the jogger over an extended period,
the smoker would go through a kind of negative psychological stress not present in the jogger.
after a long enough time, the smoker would lose the urge to smoke, and thank the gunman[1] for having used such coercion, while the jogger would stay resentful.
ETA: the jogger would probably return to jogging thereafter, while the smoker would not return to smoking, even in private.
Also, it would require that we make no distinction between “this person is doing X because it is painful not to” vs. “this person is doing X because it is pleasurable”. Our own psychological experience tells us that there is a difference between pleasure and the absence of pain, even if that difference is not relevant in every context. (Remember, rejection of the akrasia concept requires that you believe it is never a relevant distinction, not just that it’s an unnecessary distinction in some contexts.)
Furthermore, it’s highly probable that people dislike the impacts of e.g. smoking/drugs on them, above and beyond the social disapproval it brings on them, especially when e.g. it takes a smoker 20 cigarettes to get a minor buzz.
The above considerations keep me from cynically dismissing the concept of akrasia as means of retaining social status while acting out one’s truly fundamental preferences.
[1] ETA: I’m sorry for assuming that someone who threatens lethal force against another over a long period in order to make a philosophical point is a man rather than a woman, but I don’t think it’s incredibly offensive to do so.
What I dispute is that it’s a full explanation applicable to all asserted cases of akrasia. For example, it runs into these problems: If you did a gun-to-the-head test on the chain smoker and the jogger over an extended period,
the smoker would go through a kind of negative psychological stress not present in the jogger.
after a long enough time, the smoker would lose the urge to smoke, and thank the gunman[1] for having used such coercion, while the jogger would stay resentful.
ETA: the jogger would probably return to jogging thereafter, while the smoker would not return to smoking, even in private.
First, I would note that as far as I see, the above model is applicable to a much smaller range of behaviors than commonly believed. More specifically, I think the level of “withdrawal pain” is commonly greatly exaggerated for all but the most extreme physical addictions, like heroin or very extreme alcoholism. And even for these extreme cases, when the relatively brief period of physical withdrawal is bridged, the memories of past pleasures remain a constant temptation; relapses are a notorious problem in all sorts of substance abuse cases. This, I think, shows that even for true physical dependences, a large part of the motivation is seeking pleasure, not avoiding pain.
Thus, for most forms of alleged akrasia, I do think the cynical dismissal is correct even if I grant your above objections, since the pain of quitting is not so high as to be truly relevant. Smoking is a prime example, which I conclude both from my personal experience with quitting and from the apparent ease with which smokers conform to the now ubiquitous smoking bans under which many of them spend most of their waking hours. (Apparently, far lesser threats than the gun-to-the-head test are more than enough!) It definitely seems to me that non-relapsing ex-smokers are those who came to realization that the costs exceed the benefits, not those who successfully bridged a temporary withdrawal pain period.
But otherwise, yes, I grant that your above description could be accurate for some behaviors. However, someone who believes he’d benefit from quitting, but lacks the willpower to endure the withdrawal pain, can make the arrangements to be restrained during that critical period. This indeed happens when people check into rehabs. Yet in reality, bridging the painful withdrawal period is by no means a guarantee against relapse. Now, you say:
Also, it would require that we make no distinction between “this person is doing X because it is painful not to” vs. “this person is doing X because it is pleasurable”.
I accept the difference in case of a heroin addict who will pass through a few days of torment if he doesn’t shoot up, or a delirium tremens-level alcoholic. But would you classify it as avoiding pain, rather than seeking pleasure, when someone who has already passed through this painful period is tempted to re-experience the past thrills? Or when someone is “addicted” to a drug that has no physical withdrawal symptoms (according to the standard terminology)? Or when someone feels that work is intolerably tedious and can’t refrain from procrastinating? Where exactly do you draw that line?
Furthermore, it’s highly probable that people dislike the impacts of e.g. smoking/drugs on them, above and beyond the social disapproval it brings on them, especially when e.g. it takes a smoker 20 cigarettes to get a minor buzz.
Of course—but the question is whether the benefit is worth the cost. I don’t think it’s necessarily irrational to accept lower life expectancy and a certain level of damage to one’s present health in exchange for something that makes life more pleasant, or at least less tedious and nerve-wracking. And regardless of one’s true motivations, pleading addiction can be a successful way to reduce the social disapproval. (By the way, smoking isn’t about buzz, which you stop getting very soon. But I’d rather not start elaborating on that topic...)
Because this exchange is getting complex, and because of the lopsided votes, and because of the lack of involvement of others, I’m going to wait for others to comment on our exchange or for our comments to receive more moderations before replying, just as a “sanity check” that we’re making progress in our disagreement.
I think you’re righter than Vladimir_M, but some Rationalists’ Taboo would be useful. “Preference.” Can both of you formulate your views without using that word? And “akrasia”.
To me, the obvious distinction between the joyful jogger and the frustrated smoker is that the smoker has a conflict and the jogger does not. The smoker has both a goal of smoking and a goal of not smoking, and the processes for achieving these goals are fighting each other. It is impossible for both goals to be fulfilled, and as long as both processes are active, dissatisfaction will result. The jogger has a coherent set of motivations for a single goal.
The issue of signalling is a red herring. The smoker can be just as frustrated if no-one but himself knows of his struggle, and the jogger just as joyful if no-one ever sees him going for his 5am run. St. Augustine had his struggles before ever writing about them. Imputing signalling behaviour always sounds to me like just whining.
Thanks for your input, and I agree with your distinction along the lines of conflicting preferences.
I believe I already have implicitly formulated my views with a taboo on akrasia and preference. In my last substantive reply, I basically said that there are two kinds of phenomena going on, as seen by several significant differences, justifying a different term for each one (because they occupy such different clumps of conceptspace). And whatever those terms are, some contexts certainly do justify distinguishing between the two.
The specific differences I stated are that one would involve “retroactive consent” while the other wouldn’t; a long-term period of coerced abstinence would induce psychological stress in one but not the other, and it would permanently alter the target’s behavior in one case but not the other.
Preference, akrasia, whatever. Two different things are going on, warranting different actions in response.
Yes, people lie about addiction for sympathy. A lot. But that doesn’t make it all a scam.
Unfortunately, I’ll be too busy to write anything more than this comment until (at least) tomorrow, and the discussion is indeed getting complex and buried ever deeper into the comment thread, so I’m not sure if we’ll be able to continue. But in any case, I think it’s been a worthwhile exchange, and it has made me rethink my positions on these issues. As a final observation, I’ll just briefly address this comment of yours:
In my last substantive reply, I basically said that there are two kinds of phenomena going on, as seen by several significant differences, justifying a different term for each one (because they occupy such different clumps of conceptspace). And whatever those terms are, some contexts certainly do justify distinguishing between the two.
I agree with this, and in retrospect, I see that due to my own hasty writing and lack of clarity, my comments could have been read as denying this distinction altogether, which was not my intention. Therefore, I think our true disagreement has been about: (1) how widely your “smoker vs. jogger” model is applicable in practice (and in particular, whether it is applicable to typical smokers who plead addiction), and (2) how widely the signaling explanation is applicable instead (i.e. the case where one falsely pleads one’s supposed inability to suffer the withdrawal pains to gain the more respectable victim/sufferer status instead of being condemned for practicing vice willingly).
Maybe my impressions in this regard are biased, perhaps by my personal experiences. For all I know, I might be an atypical individual in this regard; but then, from many anecdotal observations, I have the impression that people around me have often played the above described signaling game, to the point where I see it as a general rule. So at the end, we can probably settle for an empirical disagreement whose resolution would require detailed discussions of a large, representative set of concrete situations, to see how far these alternative explanations are applicable in practice.
It looks like there is indeed quite of bit of overlap between our views. I haven’t had much experience with people using the “addiction” excuse, but I recommend you approach the topic using a broader definition, as I do in this blog post (which I think you’ll enjoy).
Instead of looking at it from the perspective of, “Is this person just making some excuse so they can get away with irresponsibly continuing the addictive behavior?”, look at it from the perspective of, “Does this person get strong urges to do something they know is bad for them, enjoy doing it, but also wish they didn’t get those urges?” And then ask if that’s a very special kind of “preference” (though I think you already agree now).
Excerpt from the blog (emphasis added):
You all know about how society regards certain products as dangerous, … because they are addictive. … Yet I have never been able to get addicted (or near addicted—I’m not going by the rigorous psychological definition here) to such products. …
While I have tried cigarettes before, … beyond the threshold that makes people yearn for a cigarette, I feel no desire whatsoever to smoke. … Now, here’s the kicker: I do get powerful, near-addiction urges to e.g. post on internet forums, eat ice cream/milkshakes (YUM!), play certain video games, and other things I can remember. But EVERY one of those things for which I do get urges … is completely legal!
And again, I believe the addiction excuse is heavily overused; I just don’t think that resolves the akrasia issue.
Can we change a person’s behavior purely by changing their incentives? If we can, it follows that the person was able to act differently all along, but preferred not to; their condition is a matter of preference, not constraint. I will refer to this as the “Gun-to-the-Head Test.” If suddenly pointing a gun at alcoholics induces them to stop drinking, then evidently sober behavior was in their choice set all along.
Stephen King (who is, incidentally, a former alcoholic) wrote a short story, “Quitters, Inc.” with this as the premise. If they catch you smoking, they’ll do horrible things to you and your family members.
It’s not that much of a difference. Such a model could still accept that humans are unified individuals, but also attached to parts (defined as not the relevant part of the human) that interfere with the human’s actions.
Roko’s alternative is just to say, “X is that action that I would attempt; hardware inextricably connected to me would also stop me from doing X.”
Of course, that does run into problems like, “So you agree that you’re running on corrupted hardware that stops you from doing what you believe is morally right—why should I trust you, then?
This might make sense, but it breaks down the models of pretty much all standard ethical theories, utilitarian and otherwise, which invariably treat humans as unified individuals.
Except for very narrow definitions of “standard,” this is just incorrect. Plato, Hume, Kant, and John Stuart Mill all understood and wrote about the difference between what they thought of as the rational or refined will and the more emotional appetite. Likewise Maimonides, St. Augustine, Epictetus, and a 16th century Taoist scholar whose name I can look up for you if it’s actually important. In fact, an enormous part of standard ethics deals with the divergence between what we say is right and what we actually do, and tries to identify ways to help us actually do what we say is right.
The blanket assertion that anything you do without being physically restrained is what you wanted to do under the circumstances is a creature of 20th century free-market economics. While it can be part of a self-consistent moral philosophy (e.g. Ayn Rand’s Objectivism), it’s hardly a litmus test for sound ethical thinking. On the contrary, we should be deeply suspicious of any moral theory that tells us that whatever we do must be what we wanted to do, because it conveniently justifies a set of actions that we (apparently) find quite easy to carry out. What is easy is not always right.
I was replying both to you and to Vladimir_M, because both of you seemed to me to be accepting the premise that humans (however defined) must be unitary actors in order to be amenable to coherent ethical accounts.
Understood, but just to be clear, I was only accepting that premise for purposes of argument, saying that you don’t need to resort to non-unitary models to phrase Roko’s position. I don’t accept that premise as a general rule. (Or at least I recognize that this model quickly runs into problems—see my exchange with Vladimir_M.)
Thanks for the link; it’s an interesting dialogue. May I suggest, by way of constructive criticism, that when someone challenges you to play Rationalist’s Taboo, you respond with a formal definition that uses few or no pronouns, regardless of whether you think you have already defined your terms well?
E.g.:
First-order preference (n): a desire for some state X that, if unopposed, usually leads to actions calculated or assumed to bring X about.
Second-order preference (n): a meta-preference; a desire to have some particular ranking R of first-order preferences that, if unopposed, will usually lead to actions calculated or assumed to bring R about.
Akrasia (n): the state of having a first-order preference A that conflicts with a second-order preference B such that A is stronger, and usually wins.
Addiction (n): a subset of akrasia such that, if the person with akrasia were temporarily and forcibly prevented from acting on A, he/she would (1) be grateful AND (2) likely have a reduced preference for A in the future.
Thank you, that’s a great formalism. Under your terminology, my position is that there is a difference between someone with addiction, vs. someone with consistent first/second-order preferences, and that this difference is so empirically significant as to justify having different terms, and that this difference is experimentally detectable (at least in hypothetical situations).
Of course, your definitions define addiction by that experimental difference, and that’s something I’d want to avoid.
Vladimir_M’s point, in turn, is that people with consistent first/second order preferences that are not socially acceptable try to persuade others it is actually a case of addiction in order to increase the net benefit of indulging that preference. I agree with him that this is often what’s going on, but disagree that it can account for all cases, thereby necessitating the distinction of the separate category of akrasia (and addiction).
You are mostly right, except that I disagree that such simplifications are limited to 20th century economics. I had in mind formal ethical theories that I find discussed in modern analytical philosophy, and especially utilitarianism. I honestly don’t see how utilitarianism can make sense unless humans are modeled as unified agents, each with a single utility function. From what I’ve seen, other popular formal consequentialist approaches make analogous assumptions, for which I don’t see how they could be reconciled with dissolving the concept of humans as unified agents.
But yes, considering the vast philosophical tradition you mention, my above statement definitely doesn’t hold in general. However, to get back to the issue that started this discussion, I don’t think that Aspergery logical consistency—that, according to Roko, apparently makes for a good consequentialist ethicist -- would be a good guide through the works of the authors you mention!
Hm. We’re a few levels down from the parent thread here, so please forgive me if I fail to focus on your main point. I’m aiming for it, but I might miss.
It seems like you’re saying that, in so far as we appear to observe a unified human psychology, it may just be because of myopia—upon truly considering a moral dilemma in all its ugly ramifications, people would approve of and adopt different courses of action.
That seems correct as far as it goes, but what if people’s emotions and logic generally follow the same path? What if, upon reflection, all neurotypicals would agree that, ideally speaking, they would like to live in a world where people slit the throats of trolley-obstructors so that light rail would be safe enough to ride on, but each neurotypical individual also agrees that zie could never actually bring zerself to slit an innocent person’s throat, because it would be too yucky?
That still leaves us with the vast array of neuro-atypicals in our search for diversity, but then the question of whether humankind has a unified psychology is still interesting. Instead of the response being an obvious “no, we’re diverse,” the response becomes an investigation of how many atypicals there are, how different their opinions really are, and perhaps which ones are worth viewing as “healthy” enough to count.
Let me just qualify that last remark. I believe there should be room for many different kinds of minds in our society, but that doesn’t mean there’s no such thing as mental illness. For example, a paranoid schizophrenic might have a different opinion about the trolley problem, but I’m not sure we should ask him—maybe we should just offer him some antipsychotics and see if he calms down.
Tangent: The trolley problem actually seems like a relatively innocuous source of diversity. In terms of designing a world we would want to live in I think there is pretty broad agreement that we want our trolleys to not run out of control. Yes, the principles of the trolley controversy could end up leading to disagreement over something far more important but… right now there are people with deep, powerful desires central to their overall happiness, the fulfillment of which other people find morally repugnant and sinful. That strikes me as in many ways a much bigger problem that the deontology/consequentialism battle.
Well, OK, let’s go ahead and flesh that out. I read your Rorschach blot and the first thing that comes to mind is gay sex vs. Christian fundies. Want to run with that for a few minutes? How does it illustrate psychological diversity? Isn’t it just an example of how different beliefs about reality lead to different moral opinions about specific actions? If you could get a Christian fundamentalist to imagine a world where Jesus was just a charismatic preacher and sexual orientation was caused by genes and hormones, wouldn’t she say that gay sex was OK in that world? For that matter, if you could get an openly gay atheist to imagine a world where the New Testament as it has been traditionally interpreted really was the literal word of a God who for some inexplicable reason was so cool that whatever God’s opinions were automatically became morally correct, wouldn’t the gay atheist say that gay sex was sinful in that world? Where’s the gap in human psychology?
Feel free to pick a different example if you had something else in mind. :-)
I was ambiguous because while gay sex and Christian fundamentalism does come to mind so does the entire gamut of pleasurable activities that people object to as wrong or impure. Sex with multiple partners, sex outside of marriage, polygamy, BDSM, homosexuality, paedophilic and ephebophilic fantasy, etc. And it isn’t just Christian fundamentalists doing the condemning either.
Isn’t it just an example of how different beliefs about reality lead to different moral opinions about specific actions?
I don’t know. While the justification given for the opposition to homosexuality is biblical I’m not confident the given justification is the motivation behind the conservative Christian opposition. To me, at least, the Haidt’s concept of moral purity is what is really at work. And this helps explain the revulsion toward a wide range of sexual activities (which may or may not be discussed in the Bible) from people who may or may not have read the Bible.
If you could get a Christian fundamentalist to imagine a world where Jesus was just a charismatic preacher and sexual orientation was caused by genes and hormones, wouldn’t she say that gay sex was OK in that world?
In addition to the above, it seems to me that for many, even most people, religion, morality and sex are all tangled up in the same memetic mess and that such people may not even have a proper map-territory conceptualization of the world. And this entangled collection of memes may not be the direct output of their psychology but I’m not sure any value system is, it is certainly the case that their psychology is extremely amenable to this collection of memes. And it seems very plausible to me that some people have psychologies more amenable to and comfortable with these memes than other people.
And an interesting feature of these oppositions to desires is that they are, at least in part, cultural. It turns out you can turn down or even switch off the disgust instinct to at least some sexual behavior if you raise them right, teach them tolerance and have admirable television characters with these desires.
I’m not sure the case is any different with disagreements in normative theory. Some minds are more amenable to consequentialism, others deontology, others virtue ethics, others are just confused. But there is no reason to think such minds begin like this or are stuck like this. There is no reason to think these theories would be resistant to cultural evolution either (indeed, I’m nearly certain they have been subject to cultural evolution which is why you don’t see consequentialists or liberty-minded deontologists until the Scottish Enlightenment).
Of course, the cultural evolution involved in the increasing acceptance of homosexuality has been very visible and very rapid. A concerted and widespread effort to spread memes conducive to pushing the fat guy onto the tracks probably would change the way people answered that question: but obviously the incentives for spreading that set of memes just aren’t there in the way they are with acceptance of homosexuality. And of course the reason there are no incentives is that consequentialists tend to get along with deontologists just fine and no one gets hurt enough to try and change things.
I am a bit confused OTOH why non-ADHD people (without akrasia, a term I just learned here on this webssite) find such questions interesting at all. To me, no matter what “system of morals” you may have, it’s mostly useless thinking, because it’s not like what I do depends that much on what I actually want to do, in my self-awareness.
I don’t think this statement is logically consistent. Unless you’re restrained by some outside force, if you don’t do something, that means you didn’t want to do it. You might hypothesize that you would have wanted it within some counterfactual scenario, but given the actual circumstances, you didn’t want it.
The only way out of this is if we dispense with the concept of humans as individual agents altogether, and analyze various modules, circuits, and states in each single human brain as distinct entities that might be struggling against each other. This might make sense, but it breaks down the models of pretty much all standard ethical theories, utilitarian and otherwise, which invariably treat humans as unified individuals.
But regardless of that, do you accept the possibility that at least in some cases, bullet-biting on moral questions might be the consequence of a failure of imagination, not exceptional logical insight?
It’s not always that simple. It would be inconsistent if our actions could be reduced to a simple utility function and we consistently used the word (and emotion) “want” to refer to actions that maximize that utility function, but neither of those are the case, because we’re not intelligently-designed optimization processes. Our brains don’t act under a single unified goal system, and very often the part of us that says it wants to do x, or the part that believes it wants to do x, or the part that would be happy if it could do x, or the part that feels bad if it doesn’t do x — any of the parts where it feels like “wanting” rather than “doing” — isn’t always the part that makes the decision. (In fact, in a direct causal sense, I’d say it’s not the part that makes the decision, period. Sometimes it just seems like they’re the same when they’re properly synchronized.) Neither is the part that makes moral judgments on one’s own actions and on other’s actions, and so on.
Have you read any of the discussions of akrasia here? That’s essentially shorthand for what we’re talking about here (wanting to do something but not doing it), and if you are willing to discuss it on human terms — in terms of what humans actually mean when they say “want” rather than what a single-minded decision-theoretic reasoner would mean by it* — then such discussions can be quite fruitful, and not logically inconsistent or meaningless at all.
* If such an agent would say it at all, that is. It could be taken as a mistranslation, in the same sense that Eliezer says translating any of the Babyeaters’ words about their own decisions as “right” would be a mistranslation. If a perfect decision-theoretic agent’s utility function specifies some action, then by definition, it will automatically pursue that; there’s no room for any “wanting” there, just deciding and doing. Indeed, the very fact that we have different words for “want” and “pursue” reflects the reality that we can and very frequently do one but not the other.
ata:
Yes, I’ve read lots of stuff written about akrasia on this blog. This would be a topic for a whole separate discussion, but to put it as briefly as possible, in general I’m highly suspicious of such concepts. I view them through what Bryan Caplan calls the “Gun-to-the-Head Test” (I had actually come up with the exact same argument independently before I read about it from Caplan):
Note how different this is from people who have no control of their behavior even under this test. A Parkinson patient can’t stop shaking his hands, and a person with normal nerves can’t refrain from the knee jerk when struck into the patellar ligament, no matter what you threaten them with.
Ultimately, I believe that people engage in akrasia and “addictive” behaviors because they sincerely want it. Procrastination and substance abuse are fun and pleasant, and may well be worth a large cost for those sufficiently fond of them. And if these people can subsequently claim that their socially disapproved behaviors were somehow against their will and this way lower their cost by assuaging their reputational consequences—well, no wonder that such excuses are popular. Saying that you would “want” to avoid procrastination is just ritual signaling behavior, just like smokers saying that they “want” to quit.
I should add that this is a complex topic, to which this brief post doesn’t do justice, but this does summarize my view on the matter.
Yes, your comment establishes that there exists a reason to make the following classifications:
a) going for a jog when you say you want to go for a jog and like the health benefits and feel good while jogging → preference for jogging
and
b) smoking despite saying you don’t want to smoke and being aware of the bad consequences for your body and lifespan and wishing smoking did not give you short-term pleasure (and vice versa) → preference for smoking
However, to get to the root of the akrasia question, that’s not enough. You would need to show that there is no significant, useful difference between those “preferences” that would justify having different labels for them. Do you really believe that the same kind of “preferring” is going on in a) as in b)?
SilasBarta:
I don’t have a complete theory of akrasia and related behaviors; in fact, I don’t think we know enough about these issues yet to say the final word. However, from what I’ve observed, I do think that the preferences in (a) and (b) are essentially the same, though of course the details of the cost/benefit calculus are different. The relevant difference between them lies in their social signaling consequences, not in the nature of the preferences as such. In the contemporary culture, exercise carries positive signals, so if you exercise, it is, if anything, something to brag about. Smoking carries negative signals, so it’s in your interest to present it as something you can’t control.
My further (and more controversial) relevant observation is that the contemporary public and expert opinion is biased in favor of claims of helplessness and victimhood. Thus, for example, as smoking is considered more and more immoral, smokers will be judged less negatively if they claim to be helpless addicts swindled by the predatory tobacco industry than if they just say “I like it, and it’s none of your business.” Similarly, people who prefer the pleasures of drinking and drugs will be viewed less judgmentally if they plead “addiction” than if they just admit that they accept the costs of these pleasures, which can sometimes be very large. (Note the change in their behavior when the cost is greatly increased in the gun-to-the-head test!)
To make such a plea, however, you need to suffer from an officially approved “addiction.” You can’t successfully plead helplessness and victimhood if you suffer from the urge to write blog comments instead of doing work, even though many people will testify that this urge can be far greater than the lure of officially “addictive” behaviors. (Though this might change in the future as the concept of “internet addiction” gains official circulation.) In any case, the important point here is that when you’re tempted to claim that someone honestly “wants” to behave differently from what he actually does, you should consider that your judgment might be skewed by these prevailing biases. (And if you doubt the existence of these biases, just remember the likes of Tiger Woods pleading “sex addiction”!)
That said, I do find the practical discussions of akrasia and similar behaviors valuable. Someone who is truly willing to eliminate some such behavior will want to minimize the costs of eliminating it. Moreover, a good anti-acrasia technique can also work by expanding the set of choices and providing and alternative that offers as much satisfaction even without the damaging behavior.
Please don’t misunderstand. I’m very sympathetic toward that view, and I agree it can explain a great number of cases. Many of the specific points you made there I agree with as well, especially about Tiger Woods and “sex addiction”. I’ve also written diatribes (that I won’t dredge up) about how people go great lengths to rationalize consumption of alcoholic drinks to make them socially acceptable, when really they just want to get high. Heck, I’ve even tried, long ago, getting myself addicted to legal substances that are on the socially-endorsed “addictive” list, and failed.
What I dispute is that it’s a full explanation applicable to all asserted cases of akrasia. For example, it runs into these problems: If you did a gun-to-the-head test on the chain smoker and the jogger over an extended period,
the smoker would go through a kind of negative psychological stress not present in the jogger.
after a long enough time, the smoker would lose the urge to smoke, and thank the gunman[1] for having used such coercion, while the jogger would stay resentful.
ETA: the jogger would probably return to jogging thereafter, while the smoker would not return to smoking, even in private.
Also, it would require that we make no distinction between “this person is doing X because it is painful not to” vs. “this person is doing X because it is pleasurable”. Our own psychological experience tells us that there is a difference between pleasure and the absence of pain, even if that difference is not relevant in every context. (Remember, rejection of the akrasia concept requires that you believe it is never a relevant distinction, not just that it’s an unnecessary distinction in some contexts.)
Furthermore, it’s highly probable that people dislike the impacts of e.g. smoking/drugs on them, above and beyond the social disapproval it brings on them, especially when e.g. it takes a smoker 20 cigarettes to get a minor buzz.
The above considerations keep me from cynically dismissing the concept of akrasia as means of retaining social status while acting out one’s truly fundamental preferences.
[1] ETA: I’m sorry for assuming that someone who threatens lethal force against another over a long period in order to make a philosophical point is a man rather than a woman, but I don’t think it’s incredibly offensive to do so.
First, I would note that as far as I see, the above model is applicable to a much smaller range of behaviors than commonly believed. More specifically, I think the level of “withdrawal pain” is commonly greatly exaggerated for all but the most extreme physical addictions, like heroin or very extreme alcoholism. And even for these extreme cases, when the relatively brief period of physical withdrawal is bridged, the memories of past pleasures remain a constant temptation; relapses are a notorious problem in all sorts of substance abuse cases. This, I think, shows that even for true physical dependences, a large part of the motivation is seeking pleasure, not avoiding pain.
Thus, for most forms of alleged akrasia, I do think the cynical dismissal is correct even if I grant your above objections, since the pain of quitting is not so high as to be truly relevant. Smoking is a prime example, which I conclude both from my personal experience with quitting and from the apparent ease with which smokers conform to the now ubiquitous smoking bans under which many of them spend most of their waking hours. (Apparently, far lesser threats than the gun-to-the-head test are more than enough!) It definitely seems to me that non-relapsing ex-smokers are those who came to realization that the costs exceed the benefits, not those who successfully bridged a temporary withdrawal pain period.
But otherwise, yes, I grant that your above description could be accurate for some behaviors. However, someone who believes he’d benefit from quitting, but lacks the willpower to endure the withdrawal pain, can make the arrangements to be restrained during that critical period. This indeed happens when people check into rehabs. Yet in reality, bridging the painful withdrawal period is by no means a guarantee against relapse. Now, you say:
I accept the difference in case of a heroin addict who will pass through a few days of torment if he doesn’t shoot up, or a delirium tremens-level alcoholic. But would you classify it as avoiding pain, rather than seeking pleasure, when someone who has already passed through this painful period is tempted to re-experience the past thrills? Or when someone is “addicted” to a drug that has no physical withdrawal symptoms (according to the standard terminology)? Or when someone feels that work is intolerably tedious and can’t refrain from procrastinating? Where exactly do you draw that line?
Of course—but the question is whether the benefit is worth the cost. I don’t think it’s necessarily irrational to accept lower life expectancy and a certain level of damage to one’s present health in exchange for something that makes life more pleasant, or at least less tedious and nerve-wracking. And regardless of one’s true motivations, pleading addiction can be a successful way to reduce the social disapproval. (By the way, smoking isn’t about buzz, which you stop getting very soon. But I’d rather not start elaborating on that topic...)
Because this exchange is getting complex, and because of the lopsided votes, and because of the lack of involvement of others, I’m going to wait for others to comment on our exchange or for our comments to receive more moderations before replying, just as a “sanity check” that we’re making progress in our disagreement.
(Pardon the long sentence.)
I think you’re righter than Vladimir_M, but some Rationalists’ Taboo would be useful. “Preference.” Can both of you formulate your views without using that word? And “akrasia”.
To me, the obvious distinction between the joyful jogger and the frustrated smoker is that the smoker has a conflict and the jogger does not. The smoker has both a goal of smoking and a goal of not smoking, and the processes for achieving these goals are fighting each other. It is impossible for both goals to be fulfilled, and as long as both processes are active, dissatisfaction will result. The jogger has a coherent set of motivations for a single goal.
The issue of signalling is a red herring. The smoker can be just as frustrated if no-one but himself knows of his struggle, and the jogger just as joyful if no-one ever sees him going for his 5am run. St. Augustine had his struggles before ever writing about them. Imputing signalling behaviour always sounds to me like just whining.
Thanks for your input, and I agree with your distinction along the lines of conflicting preferences.
I believe I already have implicitly formulated my views with a taboo on akrasia and preference. In my last substantive reply, I basically said that there are two kinds of phenomena going on, as seen by several significant differences, justifying a different term for each one (because they occupy such different clumps of conceptspace). And whatever those terms are, some contexts certainly do justify distinguishing between the two.
The specific differences I stated are that one would involve “retroactive consent” while the other wouldn’t; a long-term period of coerced abstinence would induce psychological stress in one but not the other, and it would permanently alter the target’s behavior in one case but not the other.
Preference, akrasia, whatever. Two different things are going on, warranting different actions in response.
Yes, people lie about addiction for sympathy. A lot. But that doesn’t make it all a scam.
Unfortunately, I’ll be too busy to write anything more than this comment until (at least) tomorrow, and the discussion is indeed getting complex and buried ever deeper into the comment thread, so I’m not sure if we’ll be able to continue. But in any case, I think it’s been a worthwhile exchange, and it has made me rethink my positions on these issues. As a final observation, I’ll just briefly address this comment of yours:
I agree with this, and in retrospect, I see that due to my own hasty writing and lack of clarity, my comments could have been read as denying this distinction altogether, which was not my intention. Therefore, I think our true disagreement has been about: (1) how widely your “smoker vs. jogger” model is applicable in practice (and in particular, whether it is applicable to typical smokers who plead addiction), and (2) how widely the signaling explanation is applicable instead (i.e. the case where one falsely pleads one’s supposed inability to suffer the withdrawal pains to gain the more respectable victim/sufferer status instead of being condemned for practicing vice willingly).
Maybe my impressions in this regard are biased, perhaps by my personal experiences. For all I know, I might be an atypical individual in this regard; but then, from many anecdotal observations, I have the impression that people around me have often played the above described signaling game, to the point where I see it as a general rule. So at the end, we can probably settle for an empirical disagreement whose resolution would require detailed discussions of a large, representative set of concrete situations, to see how far these alternative explanations are applicable in practice.
It looks like there is indeed quite of bit of overlap between our views. I haven’t had much experience with people using the “addiction” excuse, but I recommend you approach the topic using a broader definition, as I do in this blog post (which I think you’ll enjoy).
Instead of looking at it from the perspective of, “Is this person just making some excuse so they can get away with irresponsibly continuing the addictive behavior?”, look at it from the perspective of, “Does this person get strong urges to do something they know is bad for them, enjoy doing it, but also wish they didn’t get those urges?” And then ask if that’s a very special kind of “preference” (though I think you already agree now).
Excerpt from the blog (emphasis added):
And again, I believe the addiction excuse is heavily overused; I just don’t think that resolves the akrasia issue.
Thanks for the link! I just posted a reply at your blog.
Thanks for the comment. I posted a reply with a link to another LW thread you might find interesting.
Related: The Medicalization of Everyday Life.
Stephen King (who is, incidentally, a former alcoholic) wrote a short story, “Quitters, Inc.” with this as the premise. If they catch you smoking, they’ll do horrible things to you and your family members.
It’s not that much of a difference. Such a model could still accept that humans are unified individuals, but also attached to parts (defined as not the relevant part of the human) that interfere with the human’s actions.
Roko’s alternative is just to say, “X is that action that I would attempt; hardware inextricably connected to me would also stop me from doing X.”
Of course, that does run into problems like, “So you agree that you’re running on corrupted hardware that stops you from doing what you believe is morally right—why should I trust you, then?
Except for very narrow definitions of “standard,” this is just incorrect. Plato, Hume, Kant, and John Stuart Mill all understood and wrote about the difference between what they thought of as the rational or refined will and the more emotional appetite. Likewise Maimonides, St. Augustine, Epictetus, and a 16th century Taoist scholar whose name I can look up for you if it’s actually important. In fact, an enormous part of standard ethics deals with the divergence between what we say is right and what we actually do, and tries to identify ways to help us actually do what we say is right.
The blanket assertion that anything you do without being physically restrained is what you wanted to do under the circumstances is a creature of 20th century free-market economics. While it can be part of a self-consistent moral philosophy (e.g. Ayn Rand’s Objectivism), it’s hardly a litmus test for sound ethical thinking. On the contrary, we should be deeply suspicious of any moral theory that tells us that whatever we do must be what we wanted to do, because it conveniently justifies a set of actions that we (apparently) find quite easy to carry out. What is easy is not always right.
Was this intended as a reply to the parent of my comment?
I was replying both to you and to Vladimir_M, because both of you seemed to me to be accepting the premise that humans (however defined) must be unitary actors in order to be amenable to coherent ethical accounts.
Understood, but just to be clear, I was only accepting that premise for purposes of argument, saying that you don’t need to resort to non-unitary models to phrase Roko’s position. I don’t accept that premise as a general rule. (Or at least I recognize that this model quickly runs into problems—see my exchange with Vladimir_M.)
Thanks for the link; it’s an interesting dialogue. May I suggest, by way of constructive criticism, that when someone challenges you to play Rationalist’s Taboo, you respond with a formal definition that uses few or no pronouns, regardless of whether you think you have already defined your terms well?
E.g.:
First-order preference (n): a desire for some state X that, if unopposed, usually leads to actions calculated or assumed to bring X about.
Second-order preference (n): a meta-preference; a desire to have some particular ranking R of first-order preferences that, if unopposed, will usually lead to actions calculated or assumed to bring R about.
Akrasia (n): the state of having a first-order preference A that conflicts with a second-order preference B such that A is stronger, and usually wins.
Addiction (n): a subset of akrasia such that, if the person with akrasia were temporarily and forcibly prevented from acting on A, he/she would (1) be grateful AND (2) likely have a reduced preference for A in the future.
Thank you, that’s a great formalism. Under your terminology, my position is that there is a difference between someone with addiction, vs. someone with consistent first/second-order preferences, and that this difference is so empirically significant as to justify having different terms, and that this difference is experimentally detectable (at least in hypothetical situations).
Of course, your definitions define addiction by that experimental difference, and that’s something I’d want to avoid.
Vladimir_M’s point, in turn, is that people with consistent first/second order preferences that are not socially acceptable try to persuade others it is actually a case of addiction in order to increase the net benefit of indulging that preference. I agree with him that this is often what’s going on, but disagree that it can account for all cases, thereby necessitating the distinction of the separate category of akrasia (and addiction).
You are mostly right, except that I disagree that such simplifications are limited to 20th century economics. I had in mind formal ethical theories that I find discussed in modern analytical philosophy, and especially utilitarianism. I honestly don’t see how utilitarianism can make sense unless humans are modeled as unified agents, each with a single utility function. From what I’ve seen, other popular formal consequentialist approaches make analogous assumptions, for which I don’t see how they could be reconciled with dissolving the concept of humans as unified agents.
But yes, considering the vast philosophical tradition you mention, my above statement definitely doesn’t hold in general. However, to get back to the issue that started this discussion, I don’t think that Aspergery logical consistency—that, according to Roko, apparently makes for a good consequentialist ethicist -- would be a good guide through the works of the authors you mention!
Hm. We’re a few levels down from the parent thread here, so please forgive me if I fail to focus on your main point. I’m aiming for it, but I might miss.
It seems like you’re saying that, in so far as we appear to observe a unified human psychology, it may just be because of myopia—upon truly considering a moral dilemma in all its ugly ramifications, people would approve of and adopt different courses of action.
That seems correct as far as it goes, but what if people’s emotions and logic generally follow the same path? What if, upon reflection, all neurotypicals would agree that, ideally speaking, they would like to live in a world where people slit the throats of trolley-obstructors so that light rail would be safe enough to ride on, but each neurotypical individual also agrees that zie could never actually bring zerself to slit an innocent person’s throat, because it would be too yucky?
That still leaves us with the vast array of neuro-atypicals in our search for diversity, but then the question of whether humankind has a unified psychology is still interesting. Instead of the response being an obvious “no, we’re diverse,” the response becomes an investigation of how many atypicals there are, how different their opinions really are, and perhaps which ones are worth viewing as “healthy” enough to count.
Let me just qualify that last remark. I believe there should be room for many different kinds of minds in our society, but that doesn’t mean there’s no such thing as mental illness. For example, a paranoid schizophrenic might have a different opinion about the trolley problem, but I’m not sure we should ask him—maybe we should just offer him some antipsychotics and see if he calms down.
Tangent: The trolley problem actually seems like a relatively innocuous source of diversity. In terms of designing a world we would want to live in I think there is pretty broad agreement that we want our trolleys to not run out of control. Yes, the principles of the trolley controversy could end up leading to disagreement over something far more important but… right now there are people with deep, powerful desires central to their overall happiness, the fulfillment of which other people find morally repugnant and sinful. That strikes me as in many ways a much bigger problem that the deontology/consequentialism battle.
Well, OK, let’s go ahead and flesh that out. I read your Rorschach blot and the first thing that comes to mind is gay sex vs. Christian fundies. Want to run with that for a few minutes? How does it illustrate psychological diversity? Isn’t it just an example of how different beliefs about reality lead to different moral opinions about specific actions? If you could get a Christian fundamentalist to imagine a world where Jesus was just a charismatic preacher and sexual orientation was caused by genes and hormones, wouldn’t she say that gay sex was OK in that world? For that matter, if you could get an openly gay atheist to imagine a world where the New Testament as it has been traditionally interpreted really was the literal word of a God who for some inexplicable reason was so cool that whatever God’s opinions were automatically became morally correct, wouldn’t the gay atheist say that gay sex was sinful in that world? Where’s the gap in human psychology?
Feel free to pick a different example if you had something else in mind. :-)
I was ambiguous because while gay sex and Christian fundamentalism does come to mind so does the entire gamut of pleasurable activities that people object to as wrong or impure. Sex with multiple partners, sex outside of marriage, polygamy, BDSM, homosexuality, paedophilic and ephebophilic fantasy, etc. And it isn’t just Christian fundamentalists doing the condemning either.
I don’t know. While the justification given for the opposition to homosexuality is biblical I’m not confident the given justification is the motivation behind the conservative Christian opposition. To me, at least, the Haidt’s concept of moral purity is what is really at work. And this helps explain the revulsion toward a wide range of sexual activities (which may or may not be discussed in the Bible) from people who may or may not have read the Bible.
In addition to the above, it seems to me that for many, even most people, religion, morality and sex are all tangled up in the same memetic mess and that such people may not even have a proper map-territory conceptualization of the world. And this entangled collection of memes may not be the direct output of their psychology but I’m not sure any value system is, it is certainly the case that their psychology is extremely amenable to this collection of memes. And it seems very plausible to me that some people have psychologies more amenable to and comfortable with these memes than other people.
And an interesting feature of these oppositions to desires is that they are, at least in part, cultural. It turns out you can turn down or even switch off the disgust instinct to at least some sexual behavior if you raise them right, teach them tolerance and have admirable television characters with these desires.
I’m not sure the case is any different with disagreements in normative theory. Some minds are more amenable to consequentialism, others deontology, others virtue ethics, others are just confused. But there is no reason to think such minds begin like this or are stuck like this. There is no reason to think these theories would be resistant to cultural evolution either (indeed, I’m nearly certain they have been subject to cultural evolution which is why you don’t see consequentialists or liberty-minded deontologists until the Scottish Enlightenment).
Of course, the cultural evolution involved in the increasing acceptance of homosexuality has been very visible and very rapid. A concerted and widespread effort to spread memes conducive to pushing the fat guy onto the tracks probably would change the way people answered that question: but obviously the incentives for spreading that set of memes just aren’t there in the way they are with acceptance of homosexuality. And of course the reason there are no incentives is that consequentialists tend to get along with deontologists just fine and no one gets hurt enough to try and change things.
That make sense?
Yes! This is very enlightening; thank you for your thoughtful response. I am convinced, for now. :-)
I am a bit confused OTOH why non-ADHD people (without akrasia, a term I just learned here on this webssite) find such questions interesting at all. To me, no matter what “system of morals” you may have, it’s mostly useless thinking, because it’s not like what I do depends that much on what I actually want to do, in my self-awareness.
So true. That’s what akrasia is. But I’d be surprised if there were people who didn’t experience that at least a little bit.