Proof-of-work is a radical and relatively recent idea which does not yet have a direct correspondent in philosophy. Here, cryptographic proofs witness the expenditure of resources like physical energy to commit to particular beliefs. In this way, the true scale of the system which agrees on certain beliefs can be judged, with the largest system being the winner.
I think this relates to the notion that constructing convincing falsehoods is more difficult and costly than discovering truths, because (a) the more elaborate a falsehood is, the more likely it is to contradict itself or observed reality, and (b) false information has no instrumental benefit to the person producing it. Therefore, the amount of “work” that’s been put into a claim provides some evidence of its truth, even aside from the credibility of the claimant.
Example: If you knew nothing about geography and were given, on the one hand, Tolkien’s maps of Middle-Earth, and on the other, a USGS survey of North America, you’d immediately conclude that the latter is more likely to be real, based solely on the level of detail and the amount of work that must’ve gone into it. We could imagine that Tolkien might get to work drawing a fantasy map even more detailed than the USGS maps, but the amount of work this project would require would vastly outweigh any benefit he might get from it.
Curb Your Enthusiasm—I didn’t know you could be anonymous and tell people! I would’ve taken that option!
This is a good chance for me to interrogate my priors because I share (although not very strongly) the same intuitions that you criticize in this post. There’s tension between the following and my desire not to live in a bland tall-poppy-syndrome dystopia where nobody ever wants to accomplish great things; I don’t really know how I’d resolve it.
Intuition 1: Social praise is a superstimulus which titillates the senses and disturbs mental tranquility. When I tell a joke that lands well, or get a lot of upvotes on a post, or someone tells me that something I did years ago affected them in a good way and they still remember it, I feel a big boost to my ego and I’m often tempted to mentally replay those moments over and over. However, too much of this is a distraction from what’s really important. If I were a talented stock trader I’d be spending my time doing that rather than lying in bed obsessively refreshing my portfolio valuation; analogously, if I did actually possess the traits for which I received praise, I wouldn’t be so preoccupied with others’ affirmations.
More generally, we don’t want people to get addicted to social status, because then they’ll start chasing highs to the point where their motivation diverges from actual altruism. It’s better to nip this tendency in the bud.
Intuition 2: Social status is zero-sum, which means that if I spend money to gain status, I am necessarily making it more costly for others to do so. Therefore, telling people about your altruism is a “public bad” which we try to discourage through teasing/shaming. Now, some altruistic acts inherently cannot be done in a status-indifferent way (e.g. working full-time for a charity), but for something like donating money, which can easily be kept private, the reaction against doing it publicly is proportionally harsh.