My heuristic, similar to “someone would know”, is “I would know … if reality was like that.” Conspiracy theories seem to universally assume the super-organization of this amorphous blob of “other” people. Believing in a conspiracy theory depends upon considering it plausible that many people have different information than you and they conspire to keep it from you—that you’re an information outsider.
It’s most obvious when conspiracy theorists claim things about academia, because I know about academia. But even when things are claimed about the government, I feel like I have a good idea as to what level of lateral organization is possible.
Wednesday in the story, on the other hand, does have a relatively sheltered life, and may soon gather enough evidence to consider herself an outsider on how things work. Once she realizes this, she’ll have to be open-minded for a while on how things work till she sorts out a more reliable worldview.
It’s most obvious when conspiracy theorists claim things about academia, because
I know about academia.
This sounds like Wednesday:
“It’s most obvious when conspiracy theorists claim things about the LDS church, because I know about the LDS church. Specifically, I know that it is full of loving, caring, thoughtful and intelligent people. If there was a conspiracy, not only would someone know, I would know.”
Wednesday in the story, on the other hand, does have a relatively sheltered life
How do we measure sheltered-ness? How can I be confident that my life is less sheltered than Wednesday’s, and seek to correct for that?
I’m posting this second comment on gathering “insider information” separately.
How do we measure sheltered-ness? How can I be confident that my life is less sheltered than Wednesday’s, and seek to correct for that?
There’s this (great) movie called The 13th Floor where the main character gathers some weak evidence that he might be in a simulation. This is what happens: Va beqre gb grfg jurgure ur vf va n fvzhyngvba, gur znva punenpgre qrpvqrf gb qevir uvf pne vagb gur ubevmba. Ur yrneaf gung whfg orlbaq gur ubevmba, gur ynaqfpncr ybbcf sbe n juvyr naq gura rirelguvat vf oynax naq rzcgl.(rot13). So if you want to know something for sure, you test it.
Of course, to some extent, you need to consider the cost of the test. I realized while writing this comment that many of my actions and decisions throughout out my life can be explained by the hypothesis of always seeking insider information at almost any cost—it seems to be my personal modus operandi. I’ve always felt driven to do mini-experiments to test what is “real” and reliable, and where I’m allowed to go or if there are some places where I’m excluded. It certainly explains some erratic behavior in my life:
I took every job I could get access to, and fully committed to working there. I wanted to know the “inside story” of every workplace.
I interacted with lots of different people and my main motivation usually was to understand their world view. I’m embarrassed about some of the means I used towards this end—on the one hand, I wasn’t always honest in soliciting information, and also I spent a lot of time and energy doing this, as though there was nothing better I could be doing with my time.
I joined the Peace Corps to see what it was really like in a third world country and—to some extent—to see how things were organized in a government organization.
And finally, I spent so much time on Less Wrong even though I was a theist so I could fully understand the atheist worldview.
Reading a lot is the last obvious example. You can learn a lot from books, especially if the material you’re learning about was unintentionally related. For example, I feel like I learned some reliable information about what it was like to be a working woman in the 1900s by reading male authors who just happened to include a few boring, mundane details about what a secretary was doing in their story.
Everything gets weighted with a network of probabilities. But over time, this grows into a worldview you have a certain amount of confidence in. I’m not certain that I’m not an alien intelligence exploring what it would feel like if the universe was material and causal, but to the extent to which I assume face-value reality, I feel confident that I’m continually testing my understanding of it.
That’s a really fascinating question! That’s what I’m always trying to find out from other people… (So if anyone else knows something, please chime in!)
But no, I just keep finding that the world is well-integrated, and information flows as well as it seems to, and no one seems to know anything special.
The past couple years, my focus has shifted from testing things to seeking “wisdom”, and I’ve all but given up. I happen to have William B. Irvine’s, “On Desire” on my desk and he writes in the last chapter that if I’m looking for a ‘cosmically significant meaning’, he doesn’t think its forthcoming. I guess I’m hoping that some quantity of information will make up for the lack of a different quality of it.
I suppose Wednesday would know about the LDS church. If she’s not an insider there, who would be? It’s possible there are nested levels of knowledge of things, but if Wednesday’s life is well-integrated with the church culture, there would have been clues if she was being excluded from some levels. (Policed? A guarded moment among her parents. Only males? An unusual reaction to a brother’s outburst. Only adults? Comments like ‘you’ll understand when you’re older’.) Wednesday might consider that she’s an outsider even in her own church, but it’s much more likely that something she didn’t know is true about a small subset (the elder men in the church) than about things she fully participated in, Truman-Show-style.
Not a joke, exactly, but a caricature. To paint it in broad brushstrokes that LDS would surely quibble over, the Mormons believe that good enough humans can become gods, that spirits have genders as well and marriage continues into the afterlife, and that human couples that become gods can go on to populate their own worlds with their spirit children.
Also, the angels are spirit-children of God too (like humans) and some humans were also, or will become, angels. Adam, for instance, was also the archangel Michael.
My heuristic, similar to “someone would know”, is “I would know … if reality was like that.” Conspiracy theories seem to universally assume the super-organization of this amorphous blob of “other” people. Believing in a conspiracy theory depends upon considering it plausible that many people have different information than you and they conspire to keep it from you—that you’re an information outsider.
It’s most obvious when conspiracy theorists claim things about academia, because I know about academia. But even when things are claimed about the government, I feel like I have a good idea as to what level of lateral organization is possible.
Wednesday in the story, on the other hand, does have a relatively sheltered life, and may soon gather enough evidence to consider herself an outsider on how things work. Once she realizes this, she’ll have to be open-minded for a while on how things work till she sorts out a more reliable worldview.
This sounds like Wednesday:
“It’s most obvious when conspiracy theorists claim things about the LDS church, because I know about the LDS church. Specifically, I know that it is full of loving, caring, thoughtful and intelligent people. If there was a conspiracy, not only would someone know, I would know.”
How do we measure sheltered-ness? How can I be confident that my life is less sheltered than Wednesday’s, and seek to correct for that?
I’m posting this second comment on gathering “insider information” separately.
There’s this (great) movie called The 13th Floor where the main character gathers some weak evidence that he might be in a simulation. This is what happens: Va beqre gb grfg jurgure ur vf va n fvzhyngvba, gur znva punenpgre qrpvqrf gb qevir uvf pne vagb gur ubevmba. Ur yrneaf gung whfg orlbaq gur ubevmba, gur ynaqfpncr ybbcf sbe n juvyr naq gura rirelguvat vf oynax naq rzcgl.(rot13). So if you want to know something for sure, you test it.
Of course, to some extent, you need to consider the cost of the test. I realized while writing this comment that many of my actions and decisions throughout out my life can be explained by the hypothesis of always seeking insider information at almost any cost—it seems to be my personal modus operandi. I’ve always felt driven to do mini-experiments to test what is “real” and reliable, and where I’m allowed to go or if there are some places where I’m excluded. It certainly explains some erratic behavior in my life:
I took every job I could get access to, and fully committed to working there. I wanted to know the “inside story” of every workplace.
I interacted with lots of different people and my main motivation usually was to understand their world view. I’m embarrassed about some of the means I used towards this end—on the one hand, I wasn’t always honest in soliciting information, and also I spent a lot of time and energy doing this, as though there was nothing better I could be doing with my time.
I joined the Peace Corps to see what it was really like in a third world country and—to some extent—to see how things were organized in a government organization.
And finally, I spent so much time on Less Wrong even though I was a theist so I could fully understand the atheist worldview.
Reading a lot is the last obvious example. You can learn a lot from books, especially if the material you’re learning about was unintentionally related. For example, I feel like I learned some reliable information about what it was like to be a working woman in the 1900s by reading male authors who just happened to include a few boring, mundane details about what a secretary was doing in their story.
Everything gets weighted with a network of probabilities. But over time, this grows into a worldview you have a certain amount of confidence in. I’m not certain that I’m not an alien intelligence exploring what it would feel like if the universe was material and causal, but to the extent to which I assume face-value reality, I feel confident that I’m continually testing my understanding of it.
Have you found out things that you don’t think most people know?
That’s a really fascinating question! That’s what I’m always trying to find out from other people… (So if anyone else knows something, please chime in!)
But no, I just keep finding that the world is well-integrated, and information flows as well as it seems to, and no one seems to know anything special.
The past couple years, my focus has shifted from testing things to seeking “wisdom”, and I’ve all but given up. I happen to have William B. Irvine’s, “On Desire” on my desk and he writes in the last chapter that if I’m looking for a ‘cosmically significant meaning’, he doesn’t think its forthcoming. I guess I’m hoping that some quantity of information will make up for the lack of a different quality of it.
I suppose Wednesday would know about the LDS church. If she’s not an insider there, who would be? It’s possible there are nested levels of knowledge of things, but if Wednesday’s life is well-integrated with the church culture, there would have been clues if she was being excluded from some levels. (Policed? A guarded moment among her parents. Only males? An unusual reaction to a brother’s outburst. Only adults? Comments like ‘you’ll understand when you’re older’.) Wednesday might consider that she’s an outsider even in her own church, but it’s much more likely that something she didn’t know is true about a small subset (the elder men in the church) than about things she fully participated in, Truman-Show-style.
It does take a while before you get told about the eternally-pregnant fertility goddess you’ll become in the afterlife.
Say what?
Hold on. There’s too much information about LDS around, and I’m having trouble narrowing down their beliefs to confirm or deny your statement.
Off-hand, I’d assume it’s a joke, but I’ve seen weirder things in religion. Could you clarify?
Not a joke, exactly, but a caricature. To paint it in broad brushstrokes that LDS would surely quibble over, the Mormons believe that good enough humans can become gods, that spirits have genders as well and marriage continues into the afterlife, and that human couples that become gods can go on to populate their own worlds with their spirit children.
Also, the angels are spirit-children of God too (like humans) and some humans were also, or will become, angels. Adam, for instance, was also the archangel Michael.
The belief in people becoming angels is not unique to Mormonism. For example, some Jewish kabbalists claimed that the archangel Metatron was Enoch.