You’ve never enjoyed a pleasant surprise? I can imagine not being pleasantly surprised at largish changes in your life, like where you live, work, have relationships, etc. But what about littler things? Like reading a book you thought would be good, but have it turn out to be GREAT instead? Or finding a five-dollar bill on the ground?
I think maybe a good corollary to 9 might be “Different people appreciate different scales of pleasant surprises. Some people will be delighted to find out they can switch to an awesome new career. Other would prefer something smaller-scale, like finding a little money on the ground. Adjust accordingly”
But in one world, the abilities that come with seniority are openly discussed, hence widely known; you know what you have to look forward to.
In the other world, anyone older than you will refuse to talk about certain aspects of growing up; you’ll just have to wait and find out.
I ask you to contemplate—not just which world you might prefer to live in—but how much you might want to live in the second world, rather than the first. I would even say that the second world seems more alive; when I imagine living there, my imagined will to live feels stronger. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, right?
I take the first option.
My problem with the second is that the real world contains enough surprise already, without having to add artificial, fake surprise. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, anyway, and I can do without UFNIs sticking their oar in and treating me like their pet cat. (“Oh yes, you do like a surprise, don’t you, I just know you do, yes you do, it will be a wonderful surprise yes it will etc.etc.”)
I think you’re fighting the facts. I don’t know Alicorn, but the message I get from what she has posted is that for her, the optimal size of surprise is zero, and that offering her just a tiny little wafer-thin surprise is missing her point.
I actually talked to her about it, and while I’m not sure she’d agree with my assessment, the issue seems to be something like type, not something like size. We did establish that finding unexpected blueberries at a farmer’s market would be considered a good thing, though that definitely doesn’t extend to being given an unexpected gift, even at a culturally-expected gift-giving time.
We did establish that finding unexpected blueberries at a farmer’s market would be considered a good thing
Is that because they’re blueberries, or because they’re unexpected? It may be that the surprise of unexpected blueberries is bad, but the blueberries themselves are good, so that “expected blueberries” > “unexpected blueberries” > “expected lack of blueberries” > “unexpected lack of blueberries”.
The “unexpected blueberries” kind of surprise doesn’t bother me as much as what I think the surprise-related law [AAAAAH] is getting at because the space in which blueberries are to be found is known to me and unrestrictedly open for my inspection. I also don’t mind books being presented linearly if I can look on Wikipedia for the ending whenever I want, presents being wrapped under the Christmas tree if I have a reasonable expectation that I will get most of the things on my wishlist and few other things and I can look up what I asked for at will, people around me laughing at funny things they think of as long as they’ll say what they were on request, etc. This even if I don’t happen to look up/ask every time.
Here are some different kinds of surprises I can think of, it is not a complete schema and I’m not even sure I’ve picked the most natural boundaries—but I do think it’s better than just using the word “surprise” as if we could talk about all these things at once:
S1) Being surprised to get something, when I would have been able to predict in advance how I would respond to it. (E.g. a spontaneous gift of chocolate.)
S2) Having knowledge withheld in order to experience a more gradual unfolding of knowledge.
S2a) Dramatic surprises; getting to follow the story as it progresses without knowing the ending already; being ignorant along with the characters (e.g. No Spoilers!)
S2b) Having the answer to a problem or theoretical insight withheld and finding it myself. (E.g. there are only solutions to the odd-numbered problems in the back of the book, or the proof is omitted as an exercise for the reader.)
S3) Having future experiences that are good in a way I couldn’t even understand now. (There are plenty of experiences I have as a grown-up that would have been incomprehensible to me as a child.)
S4) Watching a scary movie and strongly suspecting that a scary monster is about to jump out soon, but not knowing exactly when, or what it will look like.
At different times in my life I’ve had different levels of liking/tolerance/disliking for different types of surprise.
I’m generally content not to look them up until I start wondering if somebody’s going to die, or any time the suspense is being laid on with a ladle, or when I’m confused about what I have already read. I read really fast and I’ll get to the relevant part soon enough. I don’t know about fractions, and it’s usually not the ending I’m itching to read—endings need lots of plot setup, I could read them and not understand what was going on. I just want to know if so-and-so lives or if such-and-such disaster occurs.
Once I stopped a TV show my best friend was showing me in the middle, when she wouldn’t tell me a spoiler answer to a question I asked, so I could leave the room and look it up on Wikipedia. She knew all about me and spoilers, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.
How much does this inform your fiction-writing? In most story-telling there is some pretense of unpredictability. Some TV shows are exceptions, the kind where the producers basically promise the audience that nothing will change over the half-hour.
Another sort of exception is history. Some readers might be upset to have events of The Surgeon of Crowthorne spoiled for them, but for the most part it is not regarded as cheating to put down a history book to look up a character bio on Wikipedia. I think it would be an interesting constrained writing experiment to structure a novel in the same way, where the author couldn’t rely on suspense to keep you interested in the plot. Perhaps there could be appendices with an encyclopedia style entry for each main character and each main event in the book, that the reader was encouraged to skip to as they pleased.
Oh, I’m perfectly capable of inflicting suspense on other people. I’ve seen it done enough. (But there are spoilers available to be clicked open on all the character pages on http://elcenia.com and I’ll provide spoilers to anyone who asks nicely.)
What I had more in mind was a pleasant surprise with these characteristics:
You go do some activity you know you are going to enjoy.
You have planned this activity in advance.
You end up enjoying the activity even more than you anticipated you would.
Your enhanced enjoyment is due to the properties of the activity, not because an someone drugged you or something.
In other words, the pleasant surprise is the strength of your positive emotional reaction to an event, not the event itself. That was the sort of pleasant surprise that I have trouble believing no one would enjoy, and that I would unreservedly not mind an FAI planning for me.
It wouldn’t be superior for you, but if an FAI, (or just a person trying to live by the principles of Fun Theory) to, is at some point required to simultaneously optimize an environment for both you, and someone who likes pleasant surprises, that would be an effective way to satisfy the other person’s desire for pleasant surprises while simultaneously satisfying your desire to never be surprised in certain ways. It would be a good way to fulfill that Principle of Fun without harming any of the people whom it doesn’t apply to.
I think that one way to generalize this preference would be as follows:
“The Utopia should allow me to voluntarily—and temporarily—limit my own capabilities if I so choose, but it should never impose limits on them. In fact, the Utopia should provide me with vastly enhanced capabilities, if I so choose.”
Thus, you could voluntarily turn down the gain on your Omni-Sensors when browsing the Farmer’s Market, while knowing that you could turn them on at any time. Simliarly, you could disengage your Anti-Grav Flight Module in order to climb a mountain, as long as you knew that you could turn it back on at a moment’s notice (or even faster than that).
My point was more “unexpected blueberries in the context of a farmer’s market” > “no blueberries” > “unexpected blueberries in the context of an unexpected gift”.
But in one world, the abilities that come with seniority are openly discussed, hence widely known; you know what you have to look forward to.
In the other world, anyone older than you will refuse to talk about certain aspects of growing up; you’ll just have to wait and find out.
I ask you to contemplate—not just which world you might prefer to live in—but how much you might want to live in the second world, rather than the first. I would even say that the second world seems more alive; when I imagine living there, my imagined will to live feels stronger. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, right?
My problem with this is that the real world contains enough surprise already, without having to add artificial, fake surprise. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, anyway, and I can do without UFNIs sticking their oar in and treating me like their pet cat. (“Oh yes, you do like a surprise, don’t you, I just know you do, yes you do, it will be a wonderful surprise yes it will etc.etc.”)
You’ve never enjoyed a pleasant surprise? I can imagine not being pleasantly surprised at largish changes in your life, like where you live, work, have relationships, etc. But what about littler things? Like reading a book you thought would be good, but have it turn out to be GREAT instead? Or finding a five-dollar bill on the ground?
I think maybe a good corollary to 9 might be “Different people appreciate different scales of pleasant surprises. Some people will be delighted to find out they can switch to an awesome new career. Other would prefer something smaller-scale, like finding a little money on the ground. Adjust accordingly”
Actually, going back to Eliezer’s article expanding rule 9, Justified Expectation of Pleasant Surprises, he imagines two possible worlds:
I take the first option.
My problem with the second is that the real world contains enough surprise already, without having to add artificial, fake surprise. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, anyway, and I can do without UFNIs sticking their oar in and treating me like their pet cat. (“Oh yes, you do like a surprise, don’t you, I just know you do, yes you do, it will be a wonderful surprise yes it will etc.etc.”)
Though the context dampened it, I was surprised to hear that anyone at all would even slightly prefer the second option.
I think this may constitute the first time that I’ve felt a serious and noticeable disconnect with Eliezer.
I think you’re fighting the facts. I don’t know Alicorn, but the message I get from what she has posted is that for her, the optimal size of surprise is zero, and that offering her just a tiny little wafer-thin surprise is missing her point.
I actually talked to her about it, and while I’m not sure she’d agree with my assessment, the issue seems to be something like type, not something like size. We did establish that finding unexpected blueberries at a farmer’s market would be considered a good thing, though that definitely doesn’t extend to being given an unexpected gift, even at a culturally-expected gift-giving time.
Is that because they’re blueberries, or because they’re unexpected? It may be that the surprise of unexpected blueberries is bad, but the blueberries themselves are good, so that “expected blueberries” > “unexpected blueberries” > “expected lack of blueberries” > “unexpected lack of blueberries”.
Your ordering is correct.
The “unexpected blueberries” kind of surprise doesn’t bother me as much as what I think the surprise-related law [AAAAAH] is getting at because the space in which blueberries are to be found is known to me and unrestrictedly open for my inspection. I also don’t mind books being presented linearly if I can look on Wikipedia for the ending whenever I want, presents being wrapped under the Christmas tree if I have a reasonable expectation that I will get most of the things on my wishlist and few other things and I can look up what I asked for at will, people around me laughing at funny things they think of as long as they’ll say what they were on request, etc. This even if I don’t happen to look up/ask every time.
Here are some different kinds of surprises I can think of, it is not a complete schema and I’m not even sure I’ve picked the most natural boundaries—but I do think it’s better than just using the word “surprise” as if we could talk about all these things at once:
S1) Being surprised to get something, when I would have been able to predict in advance how I would respond to it. (E.g. a spontaneous gift of chocolate.)
S2) Having knowledge withheld in order to experience a more gradual unfolding of knowledge.
S2a) Dramatic surprises; getting to follow the story as it progresses without knowing the ending already; being ignorant along with the characters (e.g. No Spoilers!)
S2b) Having the answer to a problem or theoretical insight withheld and finding it myself. (E.g. there are only solutions to the odd-numbered problems in the back of the book, or the proof is omitted as an exercise for the reader.)
S3) Having future experiences that are good in a way I couldn’t even understand now. (There are plenty of experiences I have as a grown-up that would have been incomprehensible to me as a child.)
S4) Watching a scary movie and strongly suspecting that a scary monster is about to jump out soon, but not knowing exactly when, or what it will look like.
At different times in my life I’ve had different levels of liking/tolerance/disliking for different types of surprise.
How often do you take advantage of this sort of thing? To be specific, what fraction of books’ endings do you look up?
I’m generally content not to look them up until I start wondering if somebody’s going to die, or any time the suspense is being laid on with a ladle, or when I’m confused about what I have already read. I read really fast and I’ll get to the relevant part soon enough. I don’t know about fractions, and it’s usually not the ending I’m itching to read—endings need lots of plot setup, I could read them and not understand what was going on. I just want to know if so-and-so lives or if such-and-such disaster occurs.
Once I stopped a TV show my best friend was showing me in the middle, when she wouldn’t tell me a spoiler answer to a question I asked, so I could leave the room and look it up on Wikipedia. She knew all about me and spoilers, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Interesting. For more evidence of human diversity, I often have difficulty not telling people unrequested spoilers in otherwise-similar situations.
How much does this inform your fiction-writing? In most story-telling there is some pretense of unpredictability. Some TV shows are exceptions, the kind where the producers basically promise the audience that nothing will change over the half-hour.
Another sort of exception is history. Some readers might be upset to have events of The Surgeon of Crowthorne spoiled for them, but for the most part it is not regarded as cheating to put down a history book to look up a character bio on Wikipedia. I think it would be an interesting constrained writing experiment to structure a novel in the same way, where the author couldn’t rely on suspense to keep you interested in the plot. Perhaps there could be appendices with an encyclopedia style entry for each main character and each main event in the book, that the reader was encouraged to skip to as they pleased.
Oh, I’m perfectly capable of inflicting suspense on other people. I’ve seen it done enough. (But there are spoilers available to be clicked open on all the character pages on http://elcenia.com and I’ll provide spoilers to anyone who asks nicely.)
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What I had more in mind was a pleasant surprise with these characteristics:
You go do some activity you know you are going to enjoy.
You have planned this activity in advance.
You end up enjoying the activity even more than you anticipated you would.
Your enhanced enjoyment is due to the properties of the activity, not because an someone drugged you or something.
In other words, the pleasant surprise is the strength of your positive emotional reaction to an event, not the event itself. That was the sort of pleasant surprise that I have trouble believing no one would enjoy, and that I would unreservedly not mind an FAI planning for me.
That wouldn’t bother me, but it is in no way superior to knowing in advance that I will enjoy the activity the larger amount ahead of time.
It wouldn’t be superior for you, but if an FAI, (or just a person trying to live by the principles of Fun Theory) to, is at some point required to simultaneously optimize an environment for both you, and someone who likes pleasant surprises, that would be an effective way to satisfy the other person’s desire for pleasant surprises while simultaneously satisfying your desire to never be surprised in certain ways. It would be a good way to fulfill that Principle of Fun without harming any of the people whom it doesn’t apply to.
I think that one way to generalize this preference would be as follows:
“The Utopia should allow me to voluntarily—and temporarily—limit my own capabilities if I so choose, but it should never impose limits on them. In fact, the Utopia should provide me with vastly enhanced capabilities, if I so choose.”
Thus, you could voluntarily turn down the gain on your Omni-Sensors when browsing the Farmer’s Market, while knowing that you could turn them on at any time. Simliarly, you could disengage your Anti-Grav Flight Module in order to climb a mountain, as long as you knew that you could turn it back on at a moment’s notice (or even faster than that).
Sure :)
My point was more “unexpected blueberries in the context of a farmer’s market” > “no blueberries” > “unexpected blueberries in the context of an unexpected gift”.
Actually, going back to Eliezer’s article expanding rule 9, Justified Expectation of Pleasant Surprises, he imagines two possible worlds:
My problem with this is that the real world contains enough surprise already, without having to add artificial, fake surprise. I’ve got to stay alive to find out what happens next, anyway, and I can do without UFNIs sticking their oar in and treating me like their pet cat. (“Oh yes, you do like a surprise, don’t you, I just know you do, yes you do, it will be a wonderful surprise yes it will etc.etc.”)