“I drive an Infiniti. That’s really evil. There are people who just starve to death – that’s all they ever did. There’s people who are like, born and they go ‘Uh, I’m hungry’ then they just die, and that’s all they ever got to do. Meanwhile I’m driving in my car having a great time, and I sleep like a baby.
It’s totally my fault, ’cause I could trade my Infiniti for a [less luxurious] car… and I’d get back like $20,000. And I could save hundreds of people from dying of starvation with that money. And everyday I don’t do it. Everyday I make them die with my car.”
Let us suppose that the great empire of China, with all its myriads of inhabitants, was suddenly swallowed up by an earthquake, and let us consider how a man of humanity in Europe, who had no sort of connexion with that part of the world, would be affected upon receiving intelligence of this dreadful calamity. He would, I imagine, first of all, express very strongly his sorrow for the misfortune of that unhappy people, he would make many melancholy reflections upon the precariousness of human life, and the vanity of all the labours of man, which could thus be annihilated in a moment. He would too, perhaps, if he was a man of speculation, enter into many reasonings concerning the effects which this disaster might produce upon the commerce of Europe, and the trade and business of the world in general. And when all this fine philosophy was over, when all these humane sentiments had been once fairly expressed, he would pursue his business or his pleasure, take his repose or his diversion, with the same ease and tranquillity, as if no such accident had happened. The most frivolous disaster which could befal himself would occasion a more real disturbance. If he was to lose his little finger to-morrow, he would not sleep to-night; but, provided he never saw them, he will snore with the most profound security over the ruin of a hundred millions of his brethren, and the destruction of that immense multitude seems plainly an object less interesting to him, than this paltry misfortune of his own. To prevent, therefore, this paltry misfortune to himself, would a man of humanity be willing to sacrifice the lives of a hundred millions of his brethren, provided he had never seen them? Human nature startles with horror at the thought, and the world, in its greatest depravity and corruption, never produced such a villain as could be capable of entertaining it. But what makes this difference? When our passive feelings are almost always so sordid and so selfish, how comes it that our active principles should often be so generous and so noble? When we are always so much more deeply affected by whatever concerns ourselves, than by whatever concerns other men; what is it which prompts the generous, upon all occasions, and the mean upon many, to sacrifice their own interests to the greater interests of others? It is not the soft power of humanity, it is not that feeble spark of benevolence which Nature has lighted up in the human heart, that is thus capable of counteracting the strongest impulses of self-love. It is a stronger power, a more forcible motive, which exerts itself upon such occasions. It is reason, principle, conscience, the inhabitant of the breast, the man within, the great judge and arbiter of our conduct. It is he who, whenever we are about to act so as to affect the happiness of others, calls to us, with a voice capable of astonishing the most presumptuous of our passions, that we are but one of the multitude, in no respect better than any other in it; and that when we prefer ourselves so shamefully and so blindly to others, we become the proper objects of resentment, abhorrence, and execration. It is from him only that we learn the real littleness of ourselves, and of whatever relates to ourselves, and the natural misrepresentations of self-love can be corrected only by the eye of this impartial spectator. It is he who shows us the propriety of generosity and the deformity of injustice; the propriety of resigning the greatest interests of our own, for the yet greater interests of others, and the deformity of doing the smallest injury to another, in order to obtain the greatest benefit to ourselves. It is not the love of our neighbour, it is not the love of mankind, which upon many occasions prompts us to the practice of those divine virtues. It is a stronger love, a more powerful affection, which generally takes place upon such occasions; the love of what is honourable and noble, of the grandeur, and dignity, and superiority of our own characters.
And when all this fine philosophy was over, when all these humane sentiments had been once fairly expressed, he would pursue his business or his pleasure, take his repose or his diversion, with the same ease and tranquillity, as if no such accident [as the destruction of China] had happened.
Now that we are informed of disasters worldwide as soon as they happen, and can give at least money with a few mouse clicks, we can put this prediction to the test. What in fact we see is a very great public response to such disasters as the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
What in fact we see is a very great public response to such disasters as the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
True, but first of all, the situation posited is one in which China is “swallowed up”. If a disaster occurred, and there was no clear way for the generous public to actually help, do you think you would see the same response? I’m sure you would still have the same loud proclamations of tragedy and sympathy, but would there be action to match it? I suppose it’s possible that they would try to support the remaining Chinese who presumably survived by not being in China, but it seems unlikely to me that the same concerted aid efforts would exist.
Secondly, it seems to me that Smith is talking more about genuine emotional distress and lasting life changes than simply any kind of reaction. Yes, people donate money for disaster relief, but do they lose sleep over it? (Yes, there are some people who drop everything and relocate to physically help, but they are the exception.) Is a $5 donation to the Red Cross more indicative of genuine distress and significant change, or the kind of public sympathy that allows the person to return to their lives as soon as they’ve sent the text?
I support this motion, and further propose that formatting and other aesthetic considerations also be inferred from known data on the authors to fully reflect the manner in which they would have presented their work had they been aware of and capable of using all our current nice-book-writing technology.
...which sounds a lot like Eliezer’s Friendly AI “first and final command”. (I would link to the exact quote, but I’ve lost the bookmark. Will edit it in once found.)
I think much of it is that brevity simply wasn’t seen as a virtue back then. There were far fewer written works, so you had more time to go through each one.
I think it’s the vagary of various times. All periods had pretty expensive media and some were, as one would expect, terse as hell. (Reading a book on Nagarjuna, I’m reminded that reading his Heart of the Middle Way was like trying to read a math book with nothing but theorems. And not even the proofs. ‘Wait, could you go back and explain that? Or anything?’) Latin prose could be very concise. Biblical literature likewise. I’m told much Chinese literature is similar (especially the classics), and I’d believe it from the translations I’ve read.
Some periods praised clarity and simplicity of prose. Others didn’t, and gave us things like Thomas Browne’s Urn Burial.
(We also need to remember that we read difficulty as complexity. Shakespeare is pretty easy to read… if you have a vocabulary so huge as to overcome the linguistic drift of 4 centuries and are used to his syntax. His contemporaries would not have had such problems.)
I’m told much Chinese literature is similar (especially the classics), and I’d believe it from the translations I’ve read.
For context, the first paragraph-ish thing in Romance of the Three Kingdoms covers about two hundred years of history in about as many characters, in the meanwhile setting up the recurring theme of perpetual unification, division and subsequent reunification.
Ancient Greek writing not only lacked paragraphs, but spaces. And punctuation. And everything was in capitals. IMAGINETRYINGTOREADSOMETHINGLIKETHATINADEADLANGUAGE.
When our passive feelings are almost always so sordid and so selfish, how comes it that our active principles should often be so generous and so noble?
Why do some people so revile our passive feelings, and so venerate hypocrisy?
Why do some people so revile our passive feelings, and so venerate hypocrisy?
Because it helps coerce others into doing things that benefit us and reduces how much force is exercised upon us while trading off the minimal amount of altruistic action necessary. There wouldn’t (usually) be much point having altruistic principles and publicly reviling them.
That’s quite a theory. It’s like the old fashioned elitist theory that hypocrisy is necessary to keep the hoi polloi in line, except apparently applied to everyone.
Or not? Do you think you are made more useful to yourself and others by reviling your feelings and being hypocritical about your values?
The standard one. I was stating the obvious, not being controversial.
Do you think you are made more useful to yourself and others by reviling your feelings and being hypocritical about your values?
I never said I did so. (And where did this ‘useful to others’ thing come in? That’s certainly not something I’d try to argue for. The primary point of the hypocrisy is to reduce the amount that you actually spend helping others, for a given level of professed ideals.)
The primary point of the hypocrisy is to reduce the amount that you actually spend helping others, for a given level of professed ideals.
Sorry, I wasn’t getting what you were saying.
People are hypocritical to send the signal that they are more altruistic than they are? I suppose some do. Do you really think most people are consciously hypocritical on this score?
I’ve wondered as much about a lot of peculiar social behavior, particularly the profession of certain beliefs—are most people consciously lying, and I just don’t get the joke? Are the various crazy ideas people seem to have, where they seem to fail on epistemic grounds, just me mistaking what they consider instrumentally rational lies for epistemic mistakes?
Wedrifid is not ignorant enough to think that most people are consciously hypocritical. Being consciously hypocritical is very difficult. It requires a lot of coordination, a good memory and decent to excellent acting skills. But as you may have heard, “Sincerity is the thing; once you can fake that you’ve got it made.” Evolution baked this lesson into us. The beliefs we profess and the principles we act by overlap but they are not the same.
If you want to read up further on this go to social and cognitive psychology. The primary insights for me were that people are not unitary agents; they’re collections of modules who occasionally work at cross purposes, signalling is realy freaking important, and that in line with far/near or construal theory holding a belief and acting on it are not the same thing.
I can’t recommend a single book to get the whole of this, or even most of it across, but The Mating Mind and The Red Queen’s Race are both good and relevant. I can’t remember which one repeats Lewontin’s Fallacy. Don’t dump it purely based on one brainfart.
Wedrifid is not ignorant enough to think that most people are consciously hypocritical.
Would that be ignorant? I’m not sure. Certainly, there are sharks. Like you, I’d tend to think that most people aren’t sharks, but I consider the population of sharks an open question, and wouldn’t consider someone necessarily ignorant if they thought there were more sharks than I did.
Dennett talks about the collection of modules as well. I consider it an open question as to how much one is aware of the different modules at the same time. I’ve had strange experiences where people seem to be acting according to one idea, but when a contradictory fact is pointed out, they also seemed quite aware of that as well. Doublethink is a real thing.
I think it means you’re underread within that period, for what it’s worth.
The voice in that quote differs from Twain’s and sounds neither like a journalist, nor like a river-side-raised gentleman of the time, nor like a Nineteenth Century rural/cosmopolitan fusion written to gently mock both.
The math here is scary. If you spitball the regulatory cost of life for a Westerner, it’s around seven million dollars. To a certain extent, I’m pretty sure that that’s high because the costs of over-regulating are less salient to regulators than the costs of under-regulating, but taken at face value, that means that, apparently, thirty-five hundred poor African kids are equivalent to one American.
Hilariously, the IPCC got flak from anti-globalization activists for positing a fifteen-to-one ratio in the value of life between developed and developing nations.
Aren’t you using different measures of what ‘saving a life’ is, anyway? The starving-child-save gives you about 60 years of extra life, whereas the FAI save gives something rather more.
Louis C.K.
-Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments
Now that we are informed of disasters worldwide as soon as they happen, and can give at least money with a few mouse clicks, we can put this prediction to the test. What in fact we see is a very great public response to such disasters as the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
True, but first of all, the situation posited is one in which China is “swallowed up”. If a disaster occurred, and there was no clear way for the generous public to actually help, do you think you would see the same response? I’m sure you would still have the same loud proclamations of tragedy and sympathy, but would there be action to match it? I suppose it’s possible that they would try to support the remaining Chinese who presumably survived by not being in China, but it seems unlikely to me that the same concerted aid efforts would exist.
Secondly, it seems to me that Smith is talking more about genuine emotional distress and lasting life changes than simply any kind of reaction. Yes, people donate money for disaster relief, but do they lose sleep over it? (Yes, there are some people who drop everything and relocate to physically help, but they are the exception.) Is a $5 donation to the Red Cross more indicative of genuine distress and significant change, or the kind of public sympathy that allows the person to return to their lives as soon as they’ve sent the text?
If help is not possible, obviously there will be no help. But in real disasters, there always is a way to help, and help is always forthcoming.
Even if help is not possible, there will be “help.”
.
Paragraphs cost lines, and when each line of paper on average costs five shillings, you use as many of them as you can get away with.
.
I support this motion, and further propose that formatting and other aesthetic considerations also be inferred from known data on the authors to fully reflect the manner in which they would have presented their work had they been aware of and capable of using all our current nice-book-writing technology.
...which sounds a lot like Eliezer’s Friendly AI “first and final command”. (I would link to the exact quote, but I’ve lost the bookmark. Will edit it in once found.)
.
Some writers were paid by the word and/or line.
I think much of it is that brevity simply wasn’t seen as a virtue back then. There were far fewer written works, so you had more time to go through each one.
I think it’s the vagary of various times. All periods had pretty expensive media and some were, as one would expect, terse as hell. (Reading a book on Nagarjuna, I’m reminded that reading his Heart of the Middle Way was like trying to read a math book with nothing but theorems. And not even the proofs. ‘Wait, could you go back and explain that? Or anything?’) Latin prose could be very concise. Biblical literature likewise. I’m told much Chinese literature is similar (especially the classics), and I’d believe it from the translations I’ve read.
Some periods praised clarity and simplicity of prose. Others didn’t, and gave us things like Thomas Browne’s Urn Burial.
(We also need to remember that we read difficulty as complexity. Shakespeare is pretty easy to read… if you have a vocabulary so huge as to overcome the linguistic drift of 4 centuries and are used to his syntax. His contemporaries would not have had such problems.)
For context, the first paragraph-ish thing in Romance of the Three Kingdoms covers about two hundred years of history in about as many characters, in the meanwhile setting up the recurring theme of perpetual unification, division and subsequent reunification.
Sure, but popular novels like RofTK or Monkey or Dream of the Red Chamber were not really high-status stuff in the first place.
I detect a contradiction between “brevity not seen as virtue” and “they couldn’t afford paragraphs”.
Yes, I don’t think “couldn’t afford paper” is a good explanation, books of this nature were for wealthy people anyway.
Ancient Greek writing not only lacked paragraphs, but spaces. And punctuation. And everything was in capitals. IMAGINETRYINGTOREADSOMETHINGLIKETHATINADEADLANGUAGE.
Why do some people so revile our passive feelings, and so venerate hypocrisy?
Because it helps coerce others into doing things that benefit us and reduces how much force is exercised upon us while trading off the minimal amount of altruistic action necessary. There wouldn’t (usually) be much point having altruistic principles and publicly reviling them.
That’s quite a theory. It’s like the old fashioned elitist theory that hypocrisy is necessary to keep the hoi polloi in line, except apparently applied to everyone.
Or not? Do you think you are made more useful to yourself and others by reviling your feelings and being hypocritical about your values?
The standard one. I was stating the obvious, not being controversial.
I never said I did so. (And where did this ‘useful to others’ thing come in? That’s certainly not something I’d try to argue for. The primary point of the hypocrisy is to reduce the amount that you actually spend helping others, for a given level of professed ideals.)
Sorry, I wasn’t getting what you were saying.
People are hypocritical to send the signal that they are more altruistic than they are? I suppose some do. Do you really think most people are consciously hypocritical on this score?
I’ve wondered as much about a lot of peculiar social behavior, particularly the profession of certain beliefs—are most people consciously lying, and I just don’t get the joke? Are the various crazy ideas people seem to have, where they seem to fail on epistemic grounds, just me mistaking what they consider instrumentally rational lies for epistemic mistakes?
Wedrifid is not ignorant enough to think that most people are consciously hypocritical. Being consciously hypocritical is very difficult. It requires a lot of coordination, a good memory and decent to excellent acting skills. But as you may have heard, “Sincerity is the thing; once you can fake that you’ve got it made.” Evolution baked this lesson into us. The beliefs we profess and the principles we act by overlap but they are not the same.
If you want to read up further on this go to social and cognitive psychology. The primary insights for me were that people are not unitary agents; they’re collections of modules who occasionally work at cross purposes, signalling is realy freaking important, and that in line with far/near or construal theory holding a belief and acting on it are not the same thing.
I can’t recommend a single book to get the whole of this, or even most of it across, but The Mating Mind and The Red Queen’s Race are both good and relevant. I can’t remember which one repeats Lewontin’s Fallacy. Don’t dump it purely based on one brainfart.
Would that be ignorant? I’m not sure. Certainly, there are sharks. Like you, I’d tend to think that most people aren’t sharks, but I consider the population of sharks an open question, and wouldn’t consider someone necessarily ignorant if they thought there were more sharks than I did.
Dennett talks about the collection of modules as well. I consider it an open question as to how much one is aware of the different modules at the same time. I’ve had strange experiences where people seem to be acting according to one idea, but when a contradictory fact is pointed out, they also seemed quite aware of that as well. Doublethink is a real thing.
And thanks for the reference to Lewontin’s Fallacy—I didn’t know there was a name for that. The Race FAQ at the site is very interesting.
I was expecting the attribution to be to Mark Twain. I wonder if their style seems similar on account of being old, or if there’s more to it.
I think it means you’re underread within that period, for what it’s worth.
The voice in that quote differs from Twain’s and sounds neither like a journalist, nor like a river-side-raised gentleman of the time, nor like a Nineteenth Century rural/cosmopolitan fusion written to gently mock both.
Though the voice isn’t, the sentiment seems similar to something Twain would say. Though I’d expect a little more cynicism from him.
Tentatively: rhetoric was studied formally, and Twain and Smith might have been working from similar models.
According to GiveWell, you could save ten people with that much.
The math here is scary. If you spitball the regulatory cost of life for a Westerner, it’s around seven million dollars. To a certain extent, I’m pretty sure that that’s high because the costs of over-regulating are less salient to regulators than the costs of under-regulating, but taken at face value, that means that, apparently, thirty-five hundred poor African kids are equivalent to one American.
Hilariously, the IPCC got flak from anti-globalization activists for positing a fifteen-to-one ratio in the value of life between developed and developing nations.
To save ten lives via FAI, you have to accelerate FAI development by 6 seconds.
...then what are you doing here? Get back to work!
Advocacy and movement-building?
Aren’t you using different measures of what ‘saving a life’ is, anyway? The starving-child-save gives you about 60 years of extra life, whereas the FAI save gives something rather more.
You can do a thousand times better (very conservatively) if you expand your domain of consideration beyond homo sapiens.
Even better!
Ten is better than hundreds?
No, but people act like it is.