Bravo! This would be a good rite of passage for aspiring rationalists, which could also be carried out with a wishing well.
Magical thinking really can make some people worried and contribute an extra jot of misery. This seems like it should help.
But you really should write down “I wish I would die in 2 weeks”, because if, you know, everyone does this, sooner or later someone’s family is going to die in 2 weeks.
Perhaps the wish should be “I wish to no longer be a rationalist.” If the wishing well is the real deal, and it comes true, then it is clearly not desirable to be a rationalist, which makes the wish a genuine one. If you remain a rationalist, you have proved that the wishing well does not work. A win-win situation!
Not so. If the wall works, then being a rationalist will allow you to correctly interpret the evidence of that fact, while irrationality might cause you to ignore the evidence and incorrectly conclude that the wall has no effect.
Something other than the wall could grant your wish to believe that the wall grants wishes, and then you would believe a falsehood. (Unless the wall grants wishes, too, but ignored yours in particular for some reason. But that’s a Gettier case.)
I don’t think this is so easy. I am sure you do not wish to die in two weeks. You are pretending to wish and thus you are lying. Why should the wishing well fulfill a pretend wish? Writing “I wish my family wil die in two weeks” is surely irresponsible. What if your family discovers the note, do you explain that it was a scientific experiment? What if something happens to your family after 10⁄20 days—are you free of guilt by a rational act of will? Words hurt. Words can boomerang. And the heart has its Reason. This experiment is a betrayal of the heart committed by logical arrogance (and inexperience).
I didn’t say the rock was listening. You are listening. And thus you can lie or tell the truth—or maybe both lie and tell the truth at the same time and change your mind about them after a short while.
Bravo! This would be a good rite of passage for aspiring rationalists, which could also be carried out with a wishing well.
Magical thinking really can make some people worried and contribute an extra jot of misery. This seems like it should help.
But you really should write down “I wish I would die in 2 weeks”, because if, you know, everyone does this, sooner or later someone’s family is going to die in 2 weeks.
Perhaps the wish should be “I wish to no longer be a rationalist.” If the wishing well is the real deal, and it comes true, then it is clearly not desirable to be a rationalist, which makes the wish a genuine one. If you remain a rationalist, you have proved that the wishing well does not work. A win-win situation!
Not so. If the wall works, then being a rationalist will allow you to correctly interpret the evidence of that fact, while irrationality might cause you to ignore the evidence and incorrectly conclude that the wall has no effect.
A better wish might be “I wish to believe that this wall grants wishes.” If the wish is granted, then you will believe truth; and if it is not granted, then you will also believe truth.
Something other than the wall could grant your wish to believe that the wall grants wishes, and then you would believe a falsehood. (Unless the wall grants wishes, too, but ignored yours in particular for some reason. But that’s a Gettier case.)
p(wishgranted|~wallgrants) is negligible, I think. Still, I suppose you could just recite the entire Litany of Tarski.
What is p(wish is answered by Murphy the mad god of irony)?
If you think that’s proof then it sounds like you are half way there!
I don’t think this is so easy. I am sure you do not wish to die in two weeks. You are pretending to wish and thus you are lying. Why should the wishing well fulfill a pretend wish? Writing “I wish my family wil die in two weeks” is surely irresponsible. What if your family discovers the note, do you explain that it was a scientific experiment? What if something happens to your family after 10⁄20 days—are you free of guilt by a rational act of will? Words hurt. Words can boomerang. And the heart has its Reason. This experiment is a betrayal of the heart committed by logical arrogance (and inexperience).
You can neither speak truth nor lie to a rock.
I didn’t say the rock was listening. You are listening. And thus you can lie or tell the truth—or maybe both lie and tell the truth at the same time and change your mind about them after a short while.