I disagree, FWIW. It seems to me that “desire for infamy” may be rolled into “people are bad”, but not the other two. I do not consider either personal antipathy nor spite to be necessarily negative qualities.
Well, I could note that reactive spite is game-theoretically correct; this is well-documented and surely familiar to everyone here.
But that would not be the important reason. In fact I take spitefulness to be a terminal value, and as a shard of godshatter which is absolutely critical to what humans are (and, importantly, what I take to be the ideal of what humans are and should be).
It is not always appropriate, of course; nor even usually, no. Someone who is spiteful all or most of the time, who is largely driven by spite in their lives—this is not a pleasant person to be around, and nor would I wish to be like this. But someone who is entirely devoid of spite—who does not even understand it, who has never felt it nor can imagine feeling spite—I must wonder whether such a one is fully human.
There is an old Soviet animated short, called “Baba Yaga Is Opposed” (which you may watch in its entirety on YouTube; link to first of three episodes; each is ~10 minutes).
The plot is: it’s the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Misha the bear has been chosen as the event’s mascot. Baba Yaga—the legendary witch-crone of Russian folklore—is watching the announcement on TV. “Why him!” she exclaims; “why him and not me!” “The entire world is in favor!” proclaims the television announcer; whereupon the witch declares: “But Baba Yaga is opposed!”—and embarks on a mad scheme to kidnap Misha and … well, it’s not clear what her plan is, exactly; but hijinks predictably ensue.
After “Baba Yaga Is Opposed” was aired in the Soviet Union, the cartoon’s title passed into the vernacular, referring to someone who opposes something, or refuses something, for no reason but a contrarian nature; a refusal to conform, on general principles; in short—spite.
I think we need such people. I think that “Baba Yaga is opposed” is, at times, all that stands between humanity and utter catastrophe and horror; and, much more often, all that stands in the way of plans and schemes that threaten to make our lives more dull and grey. We need there to be, always, people who will simply not go along with our grand plans, no matter how well-intentioned; who refuse to conform, to participate, not from any specific principles, but simply because they don’t want to. We need to know that however reasonable our arguments, some people won’t agree with us, and nothing we can say will make them agree. We need to know that we will never be able to convince everyone or to get everyone to go along.
I fear to imagine what will happen on the day when there is no Baba Yaga to stubbornly and spitefully oppose our best-laid plans; and I can only hope that the stories are true, that say she is immortal.
Indeed, Eliezer has written extensively about this very phenomenon. No argument is universally compelling—there is no sequence of propositions so self evident that it will cause our opponents to either agree or spontaneously combust.
I disagree, FWIW. It seems to me that “desire for infamy” may be rolled into “people are bad”, but not the other two. I do not consider either personal antipathy nor spite to be necessarily negative qualities.
I would be interested to know how you see spite as “not necessarily negative”.
Well, I could note that reactive spite is game-theoretically correct; this is well-documented and surely familiar to everyone here.
But that would not be the important reason. In fact I take spitefulness to be a terminal value, and as a shard of godshatter which is absolutely critical to what humans are (and, importantly, what I take to be the ideal of what humans are and should be).
It is not always appropriate, of course; nor even usually, no. Someone who is spiteful all or most of the time, who is largely driven by spite in their lives—this is not a pleasant person to be around, and nor would I wish to be like this. But someone who is entirely devoid of spite—who does not even understand it, who has never felt it nor can imagine feeling spite—I must wonder whether such a one is fully human.
There is an old Soviet animated short, called “Baba Yaga Is Opposed” (which you may watch in its entirety on YouTube; link to first of three episodes; each is ~10 minutes).
The plot is: it’s the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Misha the bear has been chosen as the event’s mascot. Baba Yaga—the legendary witch-crone of Russian folklore—is watching the announcement on TV. “Why him!” she exclaims; “why him and not me!” “The entire world is in favor!” proclaims the television announcer; whereupon the witch declares: “But Baba Yaga is opposed!”—and embarks on a mad scheme to kidnap Misha and … well, it’s not clear what her plan is, exactly; but hijinks predictably ensue.
After “Baba Yaga Is Opposed” was aired in the Soviet Union, the cartoon’s title passed into the vernacular, referring to someone who opposes something, or refuses something, for no reason but a contrarian nature; a refusal to conform, on general principles; in short—spite.
I think we need such people. I think that “Baba Yaga is opposed” is, at times, all that stands between humanity and utter catastrophe and horror; and, much more often, all that stands in the way of plans and schemes that threaten to make our lives more dull and grey. We need there to be, always, people who will simply not go along with our grand plans, no matter how well-intentioned; who refuse to conform, to participate, not from any specific principles, but simply because they don’t want to. We need to know that however reasonable our arguments, some people won’t agree with us, and nothing we can say will make them agree. We need to know that we will never be able to convince everyone or to get everyone to go along.
I fear to imagine what will happen on the day when there is no Baba Yaga to stubbornly and spitefully oppose our best-laid plans; and I can only hope that the stories are true, that say she is immortal.
Indeed, Eliezer has written extensively about this very phenomenon. No argument is universally compelling—there is no sequence of propositions so self evident that it will cause our opponents to either agree or spontaneously combust.