I am fascinated by all of the answers that are not “never,” as this has never happened to me. If any of the answerers were atheists, could any of you briefly describe these experiences and what might have caused them? (I am expecting “psychedelic drugs,” so I will be most surprised by experiences that are caused by anything else.)
Erm...when I was a lot younger, when I considered doing something wrong or told a lie I had the vague feeling that someone was keeping tabs. Basically, when weighing utilities I greatly upped the probability that someone would somehow come to know of my wrongdoings, even when it was totally implausible. That “someone” was certainly not God or a dead ancestor or anything supernatural...it wasn’t even necessarily an authority figure.
Basically, the superstition was that someone who knew me well would eventually come to find out about my wrongdoing, and one day they would confront me about it. And they’d be greatly disappointed or angry.
I’m ashamed to say that in the past I might have actually done actions which I myself felt were immoral, if it were not for that superstitious feeling that my actions would be discovered by another individual. It’s hard to say in retrospect whether the superstitious feeling was the factor that pushed me back over that edge.
Note that I never believed the superstition...it was more of a gut feeling.
I’m older now and am proud to say that I haven’t given serious consideration to doing anything which I personally feel is immoral for a very, very long time. So I do not know whether I still carry this superstition. It’s not really something I can test empirically.
I think part of it is that as I grew older my mind conceptually merged “selfish desire” and “morality” neatly into one single “what is the sum total of my goals” utility function construct (though I wasn’t familiar with the term “utility function” at the time).
This shift occurred sometime in high school, and it happened around the same time that I overcame mind-body dualism at a gut level. Though I’ve always had generally atheist beliefs, it wasn’t until this shift that I really understood the implications of a logical universe.
Once these dichotomies broke down, I no longer felt the temptation to “give in” to selfish desire, nor was I warded off by “guilt” or the superstitious fear. I follow morals because I want to follow them, since they are a huge part of my utility function. Once my brain understood at a gut level that going against my morality was intrinsically against my interests, I stopped feeling any temptation to do immoral actions for selfish reasons. On the flip side, the shift also allows be to be selfish without feeling guilty. It’s not that I’m a “better person” thanks to the shift in gut instinct...it’s more that my opposing instincts don’t fight with each other by using temptation, fear, and guilt anymore.
I think there is something about that “shift” experience I described (anecdote indicates that a lot of smart people go through this at some point in life, but most describe it in less than articulate spiritual terms) which permanently alters your gut feelings about reality, morality, and similar topics in philosophy.
I’m guessing those who answered “never” either did not carry the illusions in question to begin with and therefore did not require a shift in thought, or they did not factor in how they felt pre-shift into their introspection.
Occasionally the fundamental fact that all our inferences are provisional creeps me out. The realization that there’s no way to actually ground my base belief that, say, I’m not a Boltzmann brain, combined with the fact that it’s really quite absurd that anything exists rather than nothing at all given that any cause we find just moves the problem outwards is the closest thing I have to “doubting existence”.
I have been diagnosed with depression in the past, so it’s not terribly surprising to me when “My life is worth living” is considered a foundational belief, that has it’s confidence fade in and out quite a lot. In this case, the drugs would actually restore me back to a more normal level.
Although, considering the frequency with which it is still happening, I may want to reconsult with my Doctor. Saying “I have been diagnosed with mental health problems, and I’m on pills, but really, I still have some pretty bad mental health problems.” pattern matches rather well to “Perhaps I should ask my Doctor about updating those pills.”
Although, considering the frequency with which it is still happening, I may want to reconsult with my Doctor. Saying “I have been diagnosed with mental health problems, and I’m on pills, but really, I still have some pretty bad mental health problems.” pattern matches rather well to “Perhaps I should ask my Doctor about updating those pills.”
Yep. Medical professionals often err on the side of lesser dosage anyway, even for life-threatening stuff. After all, “we gave her medication but she died anyway, the disease was too strong” sounds like abstract, chance-and-force-of-nature-and-fate stuff, and like a statistic on a sheet of paper.
“Doctor overdoses patient”, on the other hand, is such a tasty scoop I’d immediately expect my grandmother to be gossiping about it and the doctor in question to be banned from medical practice for life, probably with their diplomas revoked.
They also often take their guidelines from organizations like the FDA, which are renowned to explicitly delay for five years medications that have a 1 in 10000 side-effect mortality rate versus an 80% cure-and-survival rate for diseases that kill 10k+ annually (bogus example, but I’m sure someone more conscientious than me can find real numbers).
Anyway, sorry for the possibly undesired tangent. It seems usually-optimal to keep returning to your doctor persistently as much as possible until medication really does take noticeable effect.
I believe all kinds of crazy stuff and question everything when I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep, most commonly that death will be an active and specific nothing that I will exist to experience and be bored frightened and upset by forever. Something deep in my brain believes a very specific horrible cosmology as wacky and specific as any religion but not nearly as cheerful. When my faculties are weakened it feels as if I directly know it to be true and any attempt to rehearse my reasons for materialism feels like rationalizing.
I’m neither very mentally healthy nor very neurotypical, which may be part of why this happens.
could any of you briefly describe these experiences and what might have caused them?
Hasn’t happened to me in years. Typically involved desperation about how some aspect of my life (only peripherally related to the beliefs in question, natch) was going very badly. Temptation to pray was involved. These urges really went away when I discovered that they were mainly caused by garden variety frustration + low blood sugar.
I think that in my folly-filled youth, my brain discovered that “conversion” experiences (religious/political) are fun and very energizing. When I am really dejected, a small part of me says “Let’s convert to something! Clearly your current beliefs are not inspiring you enough!”
My own response was “rarely”; had I answered when I was a Christian ten years ago, I would probably have said “sometimes”; had I answered as a Christian five years ago I might have said “often” or “very often” (eventually I allowed some of these moments of extreme uncertainty to become actual crises of faith and I changed my mind, though it happened in a very sloppy and roundabout way and had I had LessWrong at the time things could’ve been a lot easier.)
And still, I can think of maybe two times in the past year when I suddenly got a terrifying sinking feeling that I have got everything horribly, totally wrong. Both instances were triggered whilst around family and friends who remain religious, and both had to do with being reminded of old arguments I used to use in defense of the Bible which I couldn’t remember, in the moment, having explicitly refuted.
Neither of these moods was very important and both were combated in a matter of minutes. In retrospect, I’d guess that my brain was conflating fear of rejection-from-the-tribe-for-what-I-believe with fear of actually-being-wrong.
Not psychedelic drugs, but apparently an adequate trigger nonetheless.
Maybe that’s what my brain does to occupy the excess processing time? In high school, when I still remembered it, I used to recite the litany against fear. But that’s not quite it. When waves toss my little boat around and I ask myself why I’m praying—the answer invariably comes out, ``It’s never made things worse. So the Professor God isn’t punishing me for my weakness. Who knows… maybe it will work? Even if not, prayer beats panic as a system idle process.″
I answered Sometimes. For me the ‘foundational belief’ in question is usually along the lines: “Goal (x) is worth the effort of subgoal/process (y).” These moods usually last less than 6 months, and I have a hunch that they’re hormonal in nature. I’ve yet to systematically gather data on the factors that seem most likely to be causing them, mostly because it doesn’t seem worth the effort right now. Hah.
Seriously, though, I have in fact been convinced that I need to work out a consistent utility function, but when I think about the work involved, I just… blah.
I’m a bit late here, but my response seems different enough to the others posted here to warrant replying!
My brain is abysmally bad at storing trains of thought/deduction that lead to conclusions. It’s very good at having exceptionally long trains of thoughts/deductions. It’s quite good at storing the conclusions of my trains of thoughts, but only as cached thoughts and heuristics. It means that my brain is full of conclusions that I know I assign high probabilities to, but don’t know why off the top of my head. My beliefs end up stored as a list of theorems in my head, with proofs left as an exercise to the reader. I occasionally double-check them, but it’s a time-consuming process.
If I’m having a not very mentally agile day, I can’t off the top of my head re-prove the results I think I know, and a different result seems tempting, I basically get confused for a while until I re-figure out how to prove the result I know I’ve proven before.
Basically on some days past-me seems like a sufficiently different person that I no longer completely trust her judgement.
Interesting. I’ve only had this experience in very restricted contexts, e.g. I noticed recently that I shouldn’t trust my opinions on movies if the last time I saw them was more than several years ago because my taste in movies has changed substantially in those years.
Sometimes, I am extremely unconvinced in the utility of “knowing stuff” or “understanding stuff” when confronted with the inability to explain it to suffering people who seem like they want to stop suffering but refuse to consider the stuff that has potential to help them stop suffering. =/
Interesting. My confidence in my beliefs has never been tied to my ability to explain them to anyone, but then again I’m a mathematician-(in-training), so…
Well, it’s not that I’m not confident that they’re useful to me. They are! They help me make choices that make me happy. I’m just not confident in how useful pursuing them is in comparison to various utilitarian considerations of helping other people be not miserable.
For example, suppose I could learn some more rationality tricks and start saving an extra $100 each month by some means, while in the meantime someone I know is depressed and miserable and seemingly asking for help. Instead of going to learn those rationality tricks to make an extra $100, I am tempted to sit with them and tell them all the ways I learned to manage my thoughts in order to not make myself miserable and depressed. And when this fails spectacularly, eating my time and energy, I am left inclined to do neither because that person is miserable and depressed and I’m powerless to help them so how useful is $100 really? Blah! So, to answer the question, this is the mood in which I question my belief in the usefulness of knowing and doing useful things.
I am also a computer science/math person! high five
So, to answer the question, this is the mood in which I question the usefulness of doing useful things.
Aren’t useful things kind of useful to do kind of by definition? (I know this argument is often used to sneak in connotations, but I can’t imagine that “is useful” is a sneaky connotation of “useful thing.”)
What you describe sounds to me like a failure to model your friend correctly. Most people cannot fix themselves given only instructions on how to do so, and what worked for you may not work for your friend. Even if it might, it is hard to motivate yourself to do things when you are miserable and depressed, and when you are miserable and depressed, hearing someone else say “here are all the ways you currently suck, and you should stop sucking in those ways” is not necessarily encouraging.
In other words, “useful” is a two- or even three-place predicate.
I am fascinated by all of the answers that are not “never,” as this has never happened to me. If any of the answerers were atheists, could any of you briefly describe these experiences and what might have caused them? (I am expecting “psychedelic drugs,” so I will be most surprised by experiences that are caused by anything else.)
Erm...when I was a lot younger, when I considered doing something wrong or told a lie I had the vague feeling that someone was keeping tabs. Basically, when weighing utilities I greatly upped the probability that someone would somehow come to know of my wrongdoings, even when it was totally implausible. That “someone” was certainly not God or a dead ancestor or anything supernatural...it wasn’t even necessarily an authority figure.
Basically, the superstition was that someone who knew me well would eventually come to find out about my wrongdoing, and one day they would confront me about it. And they’d be greatly disappointed or angry.
I’m ashamed to say that in the past I might have actually done actions which I myself felt were immoral, if it were not for that superstitious feeling that my actions would be discovered by another individual. It’s hard to say in retrospect whether the superstitious feeling was the factor that pushed me back over that edge.
Note that I never believed the superstition...it was more of a gut feeling.
I’m older now and am proud to say that I haven’t given serious consideration to doing anything which I personally feel is immoral for a very, very long time. So I do not know whether I still carry this superstition. It’s not really something I can test empirically.
I think part of it is that as I grew older my mind conceptually merged “selfish desire” and “morality” neatly into one single “what is the sum total of my goals” utility function construct (though I wasn’t familiar with the term “utility function” at the time).
This shift occurred sometime in high school, and it happened around the same time that I overcame mind-body dualism at a gut level. Though I’ve always had generally atheist beliefs, it wasn’t until this shift that I really understood the implications of a logical universe.
Once these dichotomies broke down, I no longer felt the temptation to “give in” to selfish desire, nor was I warded off by “guilt” or the superstitious fear. I follow morals because I want to follow them, since they are a huge part of my utility function. Once my brain understood at a gut level that going against my morality was intrinsically against my interests, I stopped feeling any temptation to do immoral actions for selfish reasons. On the flip side, the shift also allows be to be selfish without feeling guilty. It’s not that I’m a “better person” thanks to the shift in gut instinct...it’s more that my opposing instincts don’t fight with each other by using temptation, fear, and guilt anymore.
I think there is something about that “shift” experience I described (anecdote indicates that a lot of smart people go through this at some point in life, but most describe it in less than articulate spiritual terms) which permanently alters your gut feelings about reality, morality, and similar topics in philosophy.
I’m guessing those who answered “never” either did not carry the illusions in question to begin with and therefore did not require a shift in thought, or they did not factor in how they felt pre-shift into their introspection.
Occasionally the fundamental fact that all our inferences are provisional creeps me out. The realization that there’s no way to actually ground my base belief that, say, I’m not a Boltzmann brain, combined with the fact that it’s really quite absurd that anything exists rather than nothing at all given that any cause we find just moves the problem outwards is the closest thing I have to “doubting existence”.
I have been diagnosed with depression in the past, so it’s not terribly surprising to me when “My life is worth living” is considered a foundational belief, that has it’s confidence fade in and out quite a lot. In this case, the drugs would actually restore me back to a more normal level.
Although, considering the frequency with which it is still happening, I may want to reconsult with my Doctor. Saying “I have been diagnosed with mental health problems, and I’m on pills, but really, I still have some pretty bad mental health problems.” pattern matches rather well to “Perhaps I should ask my Doctor about updating those pills.”
Yep. Medical professionals often err on the side of lesser dosage anyway, even for life-threatening stuff. After all, “we gave her medication but she died anyway, the disease was too strong” sounds like abstract, chance-and-force-of-nature-and-fate stuff, and like a statistic on a sheet of paper.
“Doctor overdoses patient”, on the other hand, is such a tasty scoop I’d immediately expect my grandmother to be gossiping about it and the doctor in question to be banned from medical practice for life, probably with their diplomas revoked.
They also often take their guidelines from organizations like the FDA, which are renowned to explicitly delay for five years medications that have a 1 in 10000 side-effect mortality rate versus an 80% cure-and-survival rate for diseases that kill 10k+ annually (bogus example, but I’m sure someone more conscientious than me can find real numbers).
Anyway, sorry for the possibly undesired tangent. It seems usually-optimal to keep returning to your doctor persistently as much as possible until medication really does take noticeable effect.
I put sometimes.
I believe all kinds of crazy stuff and question everything when I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep, most commonly that death will be an active and specific nothing that I will exist to experience and be bored frightened and upset by forever. Something deep in my brain believes a very specific horrible cosmology as wacky and specific as any religion but not nearly as cheerful. When my faculties are weakened it feels as if I directly know it to be true and any attempt to rehearse my reasons for materialism feels like rationalizing.
I’m neither very mentally healthy nor very neurotypical, which may be part of why this happens.
Hasn’t happened to me in years. Typically involved desperation about how some aspect of my life (only peripherally related to the beliefs in question, natch) was going very badly. Temptation to pray was involved. These urges really went away when I discovered that they were mainly caused by garden variety frustration + low blood sugar.
I think that in my folly-filled youth, my brain discovered that “conversion” experiences (religious/political) are fun and very energizing. When I am really dejected, a small part of me says “Let’s convert to something! Clearly your current beliefs are not inspiring you enough!”
My own response was “rarely”; had I answered when I was a Christian ten years ago, I would probably have said “sometimes”; had I answered as a Christian five years ago I might have said “often” or “very often” (eventually I allowed some of these moments of extreme uncertainty to become actual crises of faith and I changed my mind, though it happened in a very sloppy and roundabout way and had I had LessWrong at the time things could’ve been a lot easier.)
And still, I can think of maybe two times in the past year when I suddenly got a terrifying sinking feeling that I have got everything horribly, totally wrong. Both instances were triggered whilst around family and friends who remain religious, and both had to do with being reminded of old arguments I used to use in defense of the Bible which I couldn’t remember, in the moment, having explicitly refuted.
Neither of these moods was very important and both were combated in a matter of minutes. In retrospect, I’d guess that my brain was conflating fear of rejection-from-the-tribe-for-what-I-believe with fear of actually-being-wrong.
Not psychedelic drugs, but apparently an adequate trigger nonetheless.
I am firmly atheist right now, lounging in my mom’s warm living room in a comfy armchair, tipity-typing on my keyboard. But when I go out to sea, alone, and the weather turns, a storm picks up, and I’m caught out after dark, and thanks to a rusty socket only one bow light works… well, then, I pray to every god I know starting with Poseidon, and sell my soul to the devil while at it.
I’m not sure why I do it.
Maybe that’s what my brain does to occupy the excess processing time? In high school, when I still remembered it, I used to recite the litany against fear. But that’s not quite it. When waves toss my little boat around and I ask myself why I’m praying—the answer invariably comes out, ``It’s never made things worse. So the Professor God isn’t punishing me for my weakness. Who knows… maybe it will work? Even if not, prayer beats panic as a system idle process.″
I answered Sometimes. For me the ‘foundational belief’ in question is usually along the lines: “Goal (x) is worth the effort of subgoal/process (y).” These moods usually last less than 6 months, and I have a hunch that they’re hormonal in nature. I’ve yet to systematically gather data on the factors that seem most likely to be causing them, mostly because it doesn’t seem worth the effort right now. Hah. Seriously, though, I have in fact been convinced that I need to work out a consistent utility function, but when I think about the work involved, I just… blah.
I’m a bit late here, but my response seems different enough to the others posted here to warrant replying!
My brain is abysmally bad at storing trains of thought/deduction that lead to conclusions. It’s very good at having exceptionally long trains of thoughts/deductions. It’s quite good at storing the conclusions of my trains of thoughts, but only as cached thoughts and heuristics. It means that my brain is full of conclusions that I know I assign high probabilities to, but don’t know why off the top of my head. My beliefs end up stored as a list of theorems in my head, with proofs left as an exercise to the reader. I occasionally double-check them, but it’s a time-consuming process.
If I’m having a not very mentally agile day, I can’t off the top of my head re-prove the results I think I know, and a different result seems tempting, I basically get confused for a while until I re-figure out how to prove the result I know I’ve proven before.
Basically on some days past-me seems like a sufficiently different person that I no longer completely trust her judgement.
Interesting. I’ve only had this experience in very restricted contexts, e.g. I noticed recently that I shouldn’t trust my opinions on movies if the last time I saw them was more than several years ago because my taste in movies has changed substantially in those years.
Sometimes, I am extremely unconvinced in the utility of “knowing stuff” or “understanding stuff” when confronted with the inability to explain it to suffering people who seem like they want to stop suffering but refuse to consider the stuff that has potential to help them stop suffering. =/
Interesting. My confidence in my beliefs has never been tied to my ability to explain them to anyone, but then again I’m a mathematician-(in-training), so…
Well, it’s not that I’m not confident that they’re useful to me. They are! They help me make choices that make me happy. I’m just not confident in how useful pursuing them is in comparison to various utilitarian considerations of helping other people be not miserable.
For example, suppose I could learn some more rationality tricks and start saving an extra $100 each month by some means, while in the meantime someone I know is depressed and miserable and seemingly asking for help. Instead of going to learn those rationality tricks to make an extra $100, I am tempted to sit with them and tell them all the ways I learned to manage my thoughts in order to not make myself miserable and depressed. And when this fails spectacularly, eating my time and energy, I am left inclined to do neither because that person is miserable and depressed and I’m powerless to help them so how useful is $100 really? Blah! So, to answer the question, this is the mood in which I question my belief in the usefulness of knowing and doing useful things.
I am also a computer science/math person! high five
Aren’t useful things kind of useful to do kind of by definition? (I know this argument is often used to sneak in connotations, but I can’t imagine that “is useful” is a sneaky connotation of “useful thing.”)
What you describe sounds to me like a failure to model your friend correctly. Most people cannot fix themselves given only instructions on how to do so, and what worked for you may not work for your friend. Even if it might, it is hard to motivate yourself to do things when you are miserable and depressed, and when you are miserable and depressed, hearing someone else say “here are all the ways you currently suck, and you should stop sucking in those ways” is not necessarily encouraging.
In other words, “useful” is a two- or even three-place predicate.
I should think most of them were. Of course, “foundational belief” is a subjective term.