The site includes the cutest images. The cuteness response can be set off strongly by a cute creature associating with human stuff or (just a few of them) seeming to do a distinctively human gesture. Any theories about what’s going on there?
It might be an awful experiment to perform, but if we can find a parent with a newborn child and sufficient self-honesty to be trustworthy, we can ask them whether or not, in all honesty, their own baby is cuter than those images, which were cute enough to make my head explode into candy.
If a trustworthy self-honest rationalist parent looks at that and says “yes, my baby is cuter”… I’d have to say that explains a lot about parents and a lot about the continued survival of the human species.
As a fairly observant and (as far as I can tell) realistic parent, I have noticed that both of my children have (up to their current ages of four years and 19 months) had several peak periods for cuteness.
So far they have had peaks centred at the same ages: 5 months, 15 months and (oldest only so far) 3 years.
This is not to say that they are not cute at any other ages, but at these ages they have been radiantly, eye-wateringly cute.
Also, Alicorn’s image found on a Google search is the cutest image on the top of TheCutest.Info. No matter how she found the image to begin with, this seems like highly relevant data! Even a search procedure that seems fair can manage to turn up an unfair point of comparison.
Albeit some of the other images in the top 40 seemed far cuter than that to me—cuter than babies. Maybe I just don’t like bunnies? How could evolutionary psychology explain that?
My name is not Allison. “Alicorn” is not my real name, related to my real name, derived from my real name, similar to my real name, or otherwise indicative on any level of my real name.
Even if it were, I prefer not to disseminate my real name in most online contexts. For this reason SIAI-house-inhabiting persons have continued to refer to me as Alicorn, to avoid leakage of their knowledge of my real name. So even if you knew my real name, you should not use it.
I initially commented to the above effect that it was just a random brain-bleep and I did not remember your True Name if indeed I had ever been told it, but then deleted the comment, since if I had known your name to be Allison and genuinely slipped up, I would want to be the sort of person who simply wouldn’t say whether or not it was a revealing slip-up, one way or the other, so as to maintain Plausible Deniability. To put it another way, if it had been your real name, I would want to be able to truthfully say, “Whether it was her real name or just a brain-cache substitution, I would not confirm or deny it one way or the other, so you cannot take any evidence from the fact that I am being apparently evasive.” This requires that I say the same thing whether your name is Allison or not, since otherwise people can take Bayesian evidence from it. However since in this case you have already commented to this effect, I suppose I might as well confirm it.
I did once know an Allison and my brain seems to repeatedly substitute that name for yours. I usually catch it before commenting, but not this time. There are other bizarre things my brain does along the same lines, for example, I simply cannot remember, even after having been told a dozen times or more, whether Peter Thiel’s last name is pronounced Thee-el or Tee-el.
For my part, my brain automatically interprets your pseudonym as a portmanteau of “Allison” and “unicorn”, and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it. (Not that I would be any more tempted to refer to you as “Allison” than I would be to refer to you as “Unicorn”, of course.)
Actually, I don’t particularly know/recall Alicorn’s real name, and that’s a common mistake I have to correct whenever I write it—my brain seems to substitute the cache.
My name is not “Allison”. “Alicorn” is not my real name, related to my real name, derived from my real name, or otherwise similar to my real name. And Eliezer has not met me in person yet, although he may have heard my real name from SIAI-house-inhabiting people, all of whom know it (though many call me Alicorn anyway).
I think that may have the effect of crosswiring with the funniness reaction, although I can’t access introspective data on the subject because I generally prefer my cute animal pictures to be devoid of humans and human artifacts.
Mothers praise and fuss over human babies that cutely imitate adults. It seems like good training for a critter that’s going to grow mirror neurons and a sense of empathy.
There’s a website like hot-or-not for cuteness. Highly relevant.
The site includes the cutest images. The cuteness response can be set off strongly by a cute creature associating with human stuff or (just a few of them) seeming to do a distinctively human gesture. Any theories about what’s going on there?
It might be an awful experiment to perform, but if we can find a parent with a newborn child and sufficient self-honesty to be trustworthy, we can ask them whether or not, in all honesty, their own baby is cuter than those images, which were cute enough to make my head explode into candy.
If a trustworthy self-honest rationalist parent looks at that and says “yes, my baby is cuter”… I’d have to say that explains a lot about parents and a lot about the continued survival of the human species.
What would be even more interesting would be to do a time-series. When do human infants have peak cuteness?
As a fairly observant and (as far as I can tell) realistic parent, I have noticed that both of my children have (up to their current ages of four years and 19 months) had several peak periods for cuteness. So far they have had peaks centred at the same ages: 5 months, 15 months and (oldest only so far) 3 years.
This is not to say that they are not cute at any other ages, but at these ages they have been radiantly, eye-wateringly cute.
My baby boy was at or near the top of all the images for cuteness for about 1 year. Or I would have said so at the time.
Also, Alicorn’s image found on a Google search is the cutest image on the top of TheCutest.Info. No matter how she found the image to begin with, this seems like highly relevant data! Even a search procedure that seems fair can manage to turn up an unfair point of comparison.
Albeit some of the other images in the top 40 seemed far cuter than that to me—cuter than babies. Maybe I just don’t like bunnies? How could evolutionary psychology explain that?
“Allison”?
My name is not Allison. “Alicorn” is not my real name, related to my real name, derived from my real name, similar to my real name, or otherwise indicative on any level of my real name.
Even if it were, I prefer not to disseminate my real name in most online contexts. For this reason SIAI-house-inhabiting persons have continued to refer to me as Alicorn, to avoid leakage of their knowledge of my real name. So even if you knew my real name, you should not use it.
I initially commented to the above effect that it was just a random brain-bleep and I did not remember your True Name if indeed I had ever been told it, but then deleted the comment, since if I had known your name to be Allison and genuinely slipped up, I would want to be the sort of person who simply wouldn’t say whether or not it was a revealing slip-up, one way or the other, so as to maintain Plausible Deniability. To put it another way, if it had been your real name, I would want to be able to truthfully say, “Whether it was her real name or just a brain-cache substitution, I would not confirm or deny it one way or the other, so you cannot take any evidence from the fact that I am being apparently evasive.” This requires that I say the same thing whether your name is Allison or not, since otherwise people can take Bayesian evidence from it. However since in this case you have already commented to this effect, I suppose I might as well confirm it.
I did once know an Allison and my brain seems to repeatedly substitute that name for yours. I usually catch it before commenting, but not this time. There are other bizarre things my brain does along the same lines, for example, I simply cannot remember, even after having been told a dozen times or more, whether Peter Thiel’s last name is pronounced Thee-el or Tee-el.
I apologize to all for making such a big issue about the typo. (I removed the flamebaitish part of my earlier comment.)
For my part, my brain automatically interprets your pseudonym as a portmanteau of “Allison” and “unicorn”, and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it. (Not that I would be any more tempted to refer to you as “Allison” than I would be to refer to you as “Unicorn”, of course.)
Exactly the interpretation my brain had. Until, of course, Alicorn told me she is named for the horn of a unicorn.
Obligatory wiki link. It isn’t the most reputable wiki link.
Yeah, “unicorn” would be a much better slip-up to make in terms of what the name actually means than “Allison”.
Her real name is Carmen Sandiego.
It can’t be, because I’m willing to reveal my location relative to the Earth.
True, but you haven’t revealed your temporal location relative to me.
I am at the same time as you, moving in the same direction at the same speed, barring relativistic complications that are unlikely to be significant.
Yes, but how do I know you’re telling the truth? Carmen Sandiego is purported to be very devious.
Well, but she wouldn’t outright lie, would she?
Honestly, I’m sufficiently young not to know about the non-trivial characteristics of Carmen Sandiego.
We have? I’d assumed it was just habit =)
There are multiple reasons at work, but that’s one of them, yes.
There is no user named Allison.
[rest of post deleted]
Actually, I don’t particularly know/recall Alicorn’s real name, and that’s a common mistake I have to correct whenever I write it—my brain seems to substitute the cache.
My name is not “Allison”. “Alicorn” is not my real name, related to my real name, derived from my real name, or otherwise similar to my real name. And Eliezer has not met me in person yet, although he may have heard my real name from SIAI-house-inhabiting people, all of whom know it (though many call me Alicorn anyway).
Looking through those pictures, I get cuted-out, and want to go find that site about bunny suicides.
I think that may have the effect of crosswiring with the funniness reaction, although I can’t access introspective data on the subject because I generally prefer my cute animal pictures to be devoid of humans and human artifacts.
Mothers praise and fuss over human babies that cutely imitate adults. It seems like good training for a critter that’s going to grow mirror neurons and a sense of empathy.