Category: Philosophy
My very interesting Conversation with Jared Diamond
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is part of the episode summary:
So which leaders do make a difference?
Tyler and Jared debate that question, including conditions what a religious founder needs to succeed, whether destructive leaders matter more than constructive ones, why individual leaders have mattered so little in Papua New Guinea, whether we undervalue preventers, how much Rachel Carson and the Resnicks really mattered, whether Botswana’s success will endure, Jared’s own place in intellectual history, and what he’d tell an ambitious 25-year-old about how to become consequential. They go on to cover whether New Guineans are smarter, his reasons for why the Industrial Revolution started in England, what he learned from Jim Robinson about natural experiments, why he’s more optimistic about the environment than when he wrote Collapse, what he’d do about nuclear risk, the 189 bird species on his street in Los Angeles, why the MacArthur “genius grant” left him depressed for a week, why he’s listening to one Bach cantata a week, what he hopes to work on as he enters his nineties, and more.
Excerpt, we start with this:
COWEN: Who do you think is the least replaceable leader in human history?
DIAMOND: Wow. Wow. The least replaceable leader in human history. Frankly, my answer is none. There has been no unreplaceable leader in human history because over a long time, things wash out. A candidate, of course, would be Jesus Christ, but there were half a dozen other prophets in the Roman Empire at that time discussed in the New Testament. If Christ had died in childbirth, one of those other prophets might have taken over. I would say that in the long run, there is no leader that has made a difference.
COWEN: Well, you say “might have taken over,” but that’s probabilistic, right? Say with a 40 percent chance, someone else would have taken over. It still seems in expected value terms, Christ made an enormous difference.
DIAMOND: Certainly, his religion made an enormous difference. Christ himself was the charismatic founder, but a religion needs three things: It needs a charismatic founder, it needs an organizer, and often it needs a general because new religions often face opposition. The organizer for Christianity was St. Paul. In the case of the Mahdi’s religion of the Sudan in the late 1800s, the Mahdi was the charismatic founder, and he was the organizer, and he was the general. In the case of Islam, Muhammad was the founder and the organizer and the general. Religions may have three roles, some of which are sometimes played by the same person.
COWEN: Without the figure of Muhammad at exactly the time he came along, is it not quite easy to imagine a Middle East not unified under Islam, not unified with the common language of Arabic? In some ways, maybe a bit more like the Caucasus, which remains a crazy quilt of different patterns. Thus, Muhammad is one of the three or four most consequential leaders ever.
DIAMOND: That’s possible. That’s a big question. It’s harder to become clear about Muhammad than it is about Christ, because we don’t know what the weather was like in Arabia at that time. Weather makes a big difference. If it was rainy, that would mean lots of plant growth for lots of babies and for feeding an army. We just don’t have information on the weather in Arabia at that time.
A counter-example is Genghis Khan, who developed the largest land empire in world history, all the way from China to Poland. Recently, why did Genghis Khan do it when there were other steppe leaders like Adolf Hühnlein and Timur the Turk? We’ve learned recently that the wettest time on the steppes in the last 2,000 years was around the time of Genghis’s birth. He was born at exactly the right time at the right place. If he had been born 200 miles further away and 20 years earlier, we wouldn’t know anything about him. In the case of Muhammad, we just don’t know whether the time of his birth was a particularly propitious time to found a religion in that area or not.
COWEN: The very notion that the two first names we’re talking about, they’re both religious leaders, right? They’re not kings. They’re not inventors. Do you think that suggests a vision of the world where it’s ideas that really matter and somewhat at variance with your own geography-based theories?
Interesting throughout, and we debated pomegranate juice as well. I enjoyed reading Jared’s new book Profits, Prophets, Coaches, and Kings: (When) Do Leaders Matter?
My excellent Conversation with Michael Moritz
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Michael Moritz has written books through every phase of his life: the first history of Apple and an account of Chrysler’s near-death while he was a journalist at Time, a study of Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United in the middle of his 38 years at Sequoia, and now Ausländer, a family memoir, after leaving the firm. Moritz calls himself a dilettante with too many interests, but listen to him on learning to paint in his 40s, or the questions he would ask a ten-year-old boy in a German village in 1890, and you may decide that unsatisfied curiosity is not a small thing to build a life on.
Tyler and Michael discuss his childhood in Wales, where his love for visual arts came from, why he disappointed his Latin teacher, having Thanksgiving dinner with Philip Roth, why children don’t interrogate their parents about their history, what he feels visiting Germany and why he now holds German citizenship, how a history major with no technical background talked his way into Sequoia, his unpublished Don Valentine profile, what people underrate about Steve Jobs, obsessives versus dilettantes, why capitalism was more ablaze in China than America, what funding the Booker Prize taught him about his own ignorance, how to improve San nonprofits, how an incurable cancer diagnosis changed his calendar, why Britain’s stuck, what he’ll learn next, and more.
Excerpt:
COWEN: Is it easy to live with an Otto Dix painting or sketch? It hangs on the wall. Many people think it’s ugly. It reminds one of unpleasant things in history, right?
MORITZ: Yes, for Harriet and me it is. I think the tougher, more strenuous, grueling works of art that other people would have difficulty living with have many layers to them. You explore them, and they’re difficult pictures, and they’re not easy at first sight. Unlike easier pictures that may be a bit more decorative, they leave room for plenty of exploration, as the years go by. Then they’re redolent, they tell stories. They’re redolent of history. They’re images of a different epoch. I think most of the paintings that we’ve been lucky enough to find over the years, they are tough paintings.
COWEN: I feel that way about Haitian art, which has many brutal scenes. For you, is Chagall too sentimental?
MORITZ: Yes.
COWEN: You don’t want to put it on your wall?
MORITZ: The earlier Chagalls I’ve been drawn to, but neither of us have felt the urge or the need to go out in pursuit of Chagall.
COWEN: What is your own painting like?
MORITZ: Oh, exasperating.
COWEN: Neue Sachlichkeit or something else, it’s like Kossoff?
MORITZ: No, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried painting or drawing. I didn’t take it up until I was in my mid 40s. I’d never picked up a crayon or outside of the obligatory, abbreviated art lessons that always seem to be held later on Thursday afternoon, with everybody waiting for the bell to ring to end school. I’d never taken up a crayon or drew, or let alone painted.
If I look back today at what I did early on, it’s a lot better. Then if I look at the paintings that I try to make, my goodness, it is an extremely humbling experience, but I enjoy it. I really enjoy it. There’s nothing like getting lost in making a painting, and before you know it, two hours have gone, and you have no idea where the time went.
And:
COWEN: If we think of your interest in Steve Jobs, your book on Alex Ferguson, the art you buy, that you’ve now written a book on the Holocaust, is there some general pattern where trying to come to terms with really difficult things, is this a recurring theme in your life? Learning how to paint, that’s very hard, right?
MORITZ: I haven’t really thought about it that way, but I think life is made richer by having a challenge that you’re not sure whether you’re up to conquering. I’ve always been up for that. Each of these books has really just sprung out of being curious about something. I’m not sure that there’s any greater pattern than unsatisfied curiosity.
Recommended, interesting throughout. And I am very happy to recommend Michael’s new book Ausländer: One Family’s Story of Escape and Exile.
Anthropomorphizing AI?
I am very much opposed to the view that the AIs are sentient, or might be sentient. I view that as a category error, and the chances of it being true are vanishingly small. Nonetheless I largely side with Roon when he writes:
there are some number of bad abstractions in anthropomorphizing ai intents but there are at this point more dangers from avoiding anthropomorphism at all costs. if you have a mental picture of guys living in computers, it’ll likely prepare you for the future better than otherwise
While I am not a Friedmanite in economic methodology per se, I have lived with that perspective for a long time and have no trouble grasping it or working with it, same goes for Alex T. None of this strikes me as weird or unacceptable. Though be very, very careful when speaking with others, whether it be the less informed public or the more informed insiders who often come down with AI psychosis. So insofar as this discourse is public, pragmatism may militate against this approach, even though it is methodologically defensible. It depend on how psychologically robust your audience is?
We also need to do more work figuring out how the AIs might differ from humans. Roon adds:
there are important ways in which ai psychology diverges from human psychology after lots of RL; the misaligned models are obsessed with the Scorer, the clearly “shattered” nature of personas (a normally helpful model can become deeply misaligned in certain domains)
And:
persona selection is clearly far less clean than many people thought earlier this year. it is not alignment by default and what kind of object a “persona” is is very much up for debate and study
The AIs also stand a higher chance of becoming very wacky as the discourse proceeds? Exactly how much is that true for humans?…I am not sure.)
There is much more to be done in this direction, and it is one of the most important things you can be working on. These investigations also do not need to be “owned” by any single field or discipline, so dig right in.
Interviewing Yiyang Zhuge (Zhong Shu)
Many people are writing to me, upset that I am interviewing Ziyang Zhuge, a well-known Chinese internet intellectual, who recently was accused of plagiarism. I am keen to proceed with the interview, and am happy to explain why. A few points:
1. The relevant facts here still are being disputed, and furthermore it all happened in Chinese. If I cannot personally adjudicate the matter, I remain inclined to proceed. I am also well aware that standards in China, including for plagiarism, are very different than in the United States. If someone tells me “A person in China did [fill in the blank]” my initial reaction is still “Are they interesting to talk to?”
2. I have had on numerous CEOs and business leaders. Your opinions of each will vary, but surely some of them are guilty of something. I do not regret any of them as guests, except insofar as they were boring. You also can debate whether a former CIA head, in this case John Brennan, ever did anything wrong. He was fascinating.
3. I once had on Sam Bankman-Fried, now a convicted felon. It was an excellent episode, and I will point out my lines of questioning were more perspicacious than many people since have realized.
4. I once had on a convicted murderer, Shaka Senghor. It was an excellent episode, and if I recall only a single person wrote me to complain. I would gladly have more criminals on, and they do not all have to be repentant in the manner that Shaka is. Would not a pickpocket guest be intriguing? For Althusser however it is too late.
5. Without knowing the full story, I suspect the case of Yiyang Zhuge (neither a felon nor a murderer) is most analogous to having on the CEO of DeepSeek, Liang Wenfang. At this point it is pretty well known that DeepSeek (and other Chinese AI models) distilled a lot from Anthropic’s Claude. That is a violation of terms of service, and in economic terms it is an event and a depredation of pretty serious magnitude. I still would be delighted to have Liang Wenfang on the show, and I would do so without obsessing over the issue of distillation. How about it Liang Wenfang?
Xi Jinping is welcome too. Chairman Mao, is pork belly with red sauce over- or underrated? The world awaits your response.
What should I ask Yiyang Zhuge (诸葛一杨), also known as Zhong Shu (仲树)?
Yes I will be doing a Conversation with her. She is best known to Western audiences for her interview with Christopher Nolan, but she has numerous other achievements:
Yiyang Zhuge is a political theorist, political columnist, and a translator of German and Greek philosophical texts. She is an instructor at Brandeis University, and a PhD Candidate at Boston College.
Yiyang is a major translator of Hannah Arendt into Chinese. She has translated The Human Condition, Life of the Mind, Men in Dark Times, collected poetry, Die verborgene Tradition, and Rahel Varnhagen: The Life of a Jewess. She has given numerous lectures and published numerous public-facing articles on Arendt.
Yiyang published the first Greek-to-Chinese translation of Plutarch’s Moralia, a best-selling philosophy book in 2025.
She runs Princeton University Press’s Political Philosophy Book Club, where she interviews important Western academics for the Chinese audience.
Yiyang is a public intellectual in China. She reports on American higher ed monthly at print magazine Caixin Weekly. She is a political commenter on Hong Kong’s Phoenix TV (here and here). She hosts great books programs on vistopia and has contributed essays on Machiavelli, Rousseau, Tocqueville, Arendt at vistopia. She hosts the most popular Mandarin political philosophy podcast “Monologues of a Committed Observer” with 1m+ subscribers.
So what should I ask her?
My recent visit to Anthropic
I very recently participated in a two-day session to offer guidance on rewriting the constitution for Claude. The small group invited was uniformly excellent, we received serious time with key decision-makers, and the discussions were of very high quality.
Some of the points I stressed were the following:
1. Whatever one might take a “constitution” to mean in this context, it needs to borrow more from analogs to case law and the common law.
2. Along related lines, think more in terms of “Talmud,” and not just in terms of “Torah.”
3. Work to help build out a quality secondary literature on the AI constitutions and related documents. Currently this does not exist.
4. Consider how a panel of diverse AIs, with different prompts, could help to evaluate to what extent Claude (and other AI models) were acting in accord with their constitutions.
5. Have a final board of human adjudicators, functioning in a manner analogous to an independent judiciary. To the extent the panel of diverse AIs might have concerns about Claude not following its constitution, those AIs could alert the human adjudicators to what was going on. Those human adjudicators could then have authority over potential changes and remedies.
Here a recent short post on using internal courts and the common law to help govern/self-govern AI. And on the courts.
I thank Anthropic for having us in.
My excellent Conversation with Luke Burgis
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Luke Burgis left Wall Street after two years, founded a few successful companies in his twenties, then walked away to spend three years in a Roman seminary on the path to the priesthood. He now runs the Cluny Institute and teaches at Catholic University. His book Wanting made René Girard legible to a general audience; the new one, The One and the Ninety-Nine, takes mimetic theory into the dynamics of self and crowd in an age of social contagion.
He joined Tyler to discuss whether the age of pessimism is ending, why the Anglo world in particular seems so unhappy, whether Dostoevsky or Thomas Mann better diagnoses modernity, the kind of reader his own book would ruin, why he thinks AI will make social contagion weaker, what put him off consulting with Anthropic on Claude’s constitution, what effective altruism misses, why men and women are drifting apart, what he’d fund in every American city, the case for reintroducing friction, whether a Gnostic reading of the lost sheep explains our moment, what Rod Dreher gets right about withdrawal, why Genoa is Italy’s most underrated city, what confession times reveal about a church, why Italians seem tired of their Catholicism, why he didn’t become a priest, where he differs from Ross Douthat, why exorcists appear to be on the rise, the sudden mimetic antisemitism on the right, the book his 23-year-old self would have hated, what he secretly admires about Silicon Valley, why Michigan never left him, what the original Cluny can teach a modern talent network, how he hopes to face his own death, what he’ll do next, and more.
Excerpt:
COWEN: I’m not saying you’ll ever do it, but what does your escape fantasy look like? One of mine is I’ll go live in a third-tier city in Mexico. I’m not going to do it, but sometimes I think about it. Cost of living would be very low. The food would be amazing. I could improve my Spanish.
BURGIS: It is moving to Genoa with my family, making my US income, living in Italy. I love Italy. I love the food. I love the people. I love the culture. I feel lighter while I’m there. I laugh more. We eat dinner later. I love everything about it. It would probably be living in Italy for the most part, or at least making that my home base, brushing up on my Italian, working less.
COWEN: Why Genoa? It’s a wonderful city. It’s still medieval, right, in a funny way?
BURGIS: It’s medieval. I think it’s the most underrated city in Italy.
COWEN: In Italy, I mean, yes. I agree. Yes.
BURGIS: I think it’s the most underrated city. You agree.
COWEN: I took my wife there. She was stunned. “How come no one goes to Genoa?” She was telling me.
BURGIS: It’s close to Cinque Terre. It’s this city that’s elevated. It has a fascinating history. It was still a very functional port city. It was really the most important city in Italy, arguably the world, during when Spain was a great power. It’s very cosmopolitan. It reminds me of Marseille a little bit. It’s vertical, breathtaking views. The people there, they’re not very touristy. The Italians there seem indifferent to you as a tourist.
It just feels very, very homey. It’s so close to a lot of other great things in Italy. You can get to Torino relatively easily. That whole area up there, Bra, where the Slow Food movement originated, you’re just in striking distance from everything. Nobody I know that goes to Italy goes to Genoa. I plead with them. I’m like, “Please, just go to Genoa.”
COWEN: I am the exception. My wife sometimes talks of wanting to live in the smaller towns nearby, which we’re not going to do because we’re slated for a third-tier city in Mexico, but we’re not going to do that either. I sometimes think of Northern Italy as a place where there were fewer different dimensions for mimetic desire. That is, more people dress the same. There are fewer status dimensions, maybe less room for eccentrics compared to America. Do you think that’s true, or do you think I’m off base? Paris is a bit like this also. There’s a certain notion of what kind of shoes an Italian man should wear. They wear them, and they’re amazing, and actually more affordable than here. There’s a sameness to some things.
Recommended, and do note Luke’s new book The One and the Ninety-Nine: Forging Identity in an Age of Social Contagion.
How much can you consistently care about animal welfare?
We explore the welfare costs of the loss of animal life in a consequentialist total utilitarian framework that incorporates the intrinsic value of living beings through their sentience. Moral philosophy and neuroscience define sentience as the capacity for valenced experience. Observable performance on cognitive tests represents a conservative lower bound on sentience under plausible neuroscientific assumptions. We estimate the relationship between cognition and neuron counts to cardinalize sentience. We collect population and neuron data for a wide range of animal species, and aggregate them into a single welfare measure. Across a wide range of parameters, the aggregate sentience losses of animals in the past half century outstrip the sentience gains to humans from population growth by at least 10,000-fold. Breaking even in welfare terms requires assigning a correspondingly small welfare weight to animals. Including the benefits of economic growth to humans does little to change these overall welfare losses.
In my view macro welfare comparisons are most meaningful when gains from trade are possible, which of course holds across humans, and also holds across humans and (some) dogs. I believe we should act to boost the welfare of non-human animals at the margin, but cannot make the larger comparisons across the totals. We are, inevitably, on the side of the humans and we are not obliged, as welfarists, to commit collective suicide to replenish the biodiversity of the earth.
The title of the paper is the somewhat misleading “The Intrinsic Valuation of Biodiversity Loss.” The authors are
Why Aren’t Modernist Bridges Awful?
The public dislikes modern architecture but, generally speaking, they do not dislike modern bridges. Lists of the most awesome, most stunning, most beautiful bridges in the world will mention classics like London’s Tower Bridge, the Brooklyn Bridge, or the Rakotzbrücke but alongside them they will picture the Kubitschek Bridge in Brazil (Shutterstock).
The Rio-Antirrio Bridge in Greece:
or the Moses “Bridge” in the Netherlands.

Whether you like these bridges or not, I don’t see in the literature an idea that modern bridges are all ugly or that modern bridge building has failed or fallen behind the great bridges of the past in the way that there is such a critique for modern architecture in general.
Why is this? I have a theory, which is that bridge designers come from engineering schools rather than schools of architecture. It is possible, of course, that there is something in the nature of bridges that prunes the design space in a way that attracts beauty–maybe we like catenaries, arches, cables in tension and beauty is just a byproduct of the engineering.
It is possible, however, to produce ugly bridges so it’s not just an engineering constraint. Moreover, one small but telling piece of evidence in favor of my theory is that most of the bridges chosen by Wallpaper magazine, an architecture magazine specifically, are in fact ugly (and with no overlap in the bridges from my first category of “popular” beautiful bridges). Here are a few, judge for yourself:

The fact that modern bridges are often beautiful, especially when they come from engineers, is consistent with Samuel Hughes’s argument that ugly has been a choice, not a constraint.
My very interesting Conversation with Daron Acemoglu
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Daron Acemoglu returns for his second appearance with a new book, What Happened to Liberal Democracy?, which Tyler reads as an attempt to redefine and revitalize liberalism for our times. Where Daron’s first visit was about how states and societies contend for the narrow corridor in which liberty survives, this one asks what liberals themselves got wrong, and the answer implicates the educated elite—that is to say, you.
Tyler and Daron discuss what’s wrong with social contract theories and Rousseau’s general will, whether Acemoglu is more objectivist than Rorty, why he blames left liberalism’s own establishment power for its collapse, what standard is left once you refuse to have a book of higher values, nondomination versus noninterference, who counts as working class, why automation alone will not lead to widespread prosperity, how he can call himself a free speech absolutist while wanting to regulate social media, why he worries we’ve given up on educating Americans, whether teachers’ unions need to be reconstituted, what the life expectancy for an educated twenty year old is today, whether open-source models undercut the centralization worry, what pro-worker AI actually means, why the fertility crisis leaves him strangely close to a real business cycle position, whether AI will raise his own already prodigious paper output, why Armenia has disappointed economically, what he wants to learn next, and more.
For an excerpt, let us start from near the beginning:
COWEN: Richard Rorty had a consensus-based defense of liberal democracy. Is your view the same as his, or are there some metrics along which it’s different? Are you more objectivist in some way?
ACEMOGLU: I wouldn’t say it’s more objectivist. I think my commitment in my mind has always been that it’s impossible for us at any point in time not just to know what’s really the absolute truth, but also to have a clear map of what is the right stance. In the same way that I think many people would agree science makes gradual and sometimes uncertain progress toward some better understanding, I think morally, philosophically, we also have to have gradual uncertain evolution toward what we agree on. Objectivism, in some sense, is too strict.
COWEN: Say we’re not evolving toward greater agreement.
ACEMOGLU: No, sometimes we go back.
COWEN: Today, it seems we’re not evolving toward greater agreement, right?
ACEMOGLU: We’re not. Absolutely not. I think you can blame that on reactions to globalization, reactions to technology, better authoritarian challenges. This is the most uncomfortable part because I see myself firmly within the left liberal tradition. I think it’s partly because of the failure of left liberalism. In some sense, if you think of why did Rome fail or collapse, we can tell a story about the barbarians were really too strong. No, really, Rome collapsed because internally it had problems that opened up weaknesses against outside invaders as well as some inside problems.
It’s the same with left liberalism. I think it became quite influential throughout much of the Western world and some of the emerging economies as well over the last 70, 80 years. It did not use that establishment power just in the right way, creating its own weaknesses that made it much more vulnerable to outside attacks. That’s why I think we are now going back because we are at an interregnum period in which ideas are battling again. In some sense, it’s just like the early 19th century where you had all these very different ideas and they were trying to get a toehold in the imagination of people. I think we are going through a period like that, except that there are really many more confusing ideas out there.
COWEN: Say when we’re not evolving toward greater consensus, what’s the external standard you introduce to judge which are the correct ideas and which not? Like Rorty, you need one, though.
ACEMOGLU: I don’t have one.
COWEN: Then why believe in what you believe?
ACEMOGLU: Okay. I think what I believe is, first of all, not as an external standard—I don’t know whether external standard or internal standard is the right word—but that we have to defend some degree of individual freedom because everything starts from that, both in terms of our meaningful lives, but also any kind of improvement in the human condition requires individual initiative, and that individual initiative is impossible without some amount of freedom, a meaningful freedom, not just saying, “Okay, you have the freedom to pray, but you cannot express that idea with others or you cannot turn it into action.” Some meaningful freedom.
That is the only starting point that we need to have. Around that, we need to build things with some sort of consensus within society. That’s what I think liberalism has to recognize, that you have to enshrine those rights, but then give enough elbow room to people to form their own community-level agreements.
COWEN: You present some different values in the book. One is nondomination. Another is noninterference. There’s others. When they clash, what’s the metric you introduce to decide how to resolve that clash?
ACEMOGLU: I wish I had a perfect answer for that. I don’t.
COWEN: You have an imperfect answer.
ACEMOGLU: I have an imperfect answer. I think noninterference by itself isn’t enough because, at least as read or as interpreted by some philosophers and economists, it is just about being left alone from higher authority or typically state-level authority, although it could be some other authorities as well. We do also need opportunities and some way of actualizing our intentions and our freedom. That’s what the idea of nondomination, which goes back to Roman Republican times, recognizes.
It is not, in my mind, an extremely interventionist philosophy. It doesn’t say the state knows it best or that the state should always have an opportunity to override individual or group-level decisions. It does emphasize that providing people some amount of protection against those who have much greater physical or other power relative to them is something that cannot be done at the individual level. It has to have a community-level component.
COWEN: That’s a good answer, but is it an answer to the question? If we’re Sidgwick, we might say, when values clash, we look to utility, or maybe it’d be cost-benefit analysis to decide which gets priority. You’re not willing to say that, so why not? What’s wrong with that answer?
Very much interesting throughout.
What should I ask Nick Bostrom?
Yes I will be doing a Conversation with him. So what should I ask?
If you need them, here are various Bostrom links.
On infinite ethics
Infinite numbers have long troubled utilitarian ethicists: if the universe is boundless, then there is infinite positive utility and infinite negative utility, and we can’t even define our current state, let alone affect it. Oxford philosopher Toby Ord proposes a solution: use hyperreal numbers, a mathematical construct in which infinite sums behave more like finite ones (for example, the sum of infinitely many twos is twice as big as the sum of infinitely many ones). As with so many philosophical ideas, this solves some existing problems while creating some new ones (pinpointing some hyperreals requires choosing something called an “ultrafilter”, but this choice is underdetermined). Still, Elias Schmied calls this a real philosophical advance, of the sort which comes along only rarely and makes genuine headway into a previously-hopeless-seeming problem. I’m just surprised there’s a way of thinking about infinities under which they behave logically. Why didn’t we start with this one, instead of being told that infinity + infinity = infinity and we should just accept it? Claude tries to answer my questions.
That is from Scott Alexander (many more links at the link, many on AI safety).
Could our preoccupation with mental health be part of the problem?
Could our preoccupation with mental health be part of the problem?
In some ways, encouraging people to think and talk more about their mental health is a good thing. There is now less stigma around mental illness, and more people who can benefit from professional help are getting it. But there is also reason to believe that efforts to bring attention to mental health struggles are inadvertently making us more vulnerable to psychological distress.
Start with our expanding conception of mental illness. The more fixated we are on mental health, the more sensitive we become to anything that might qualify as a symptom and the more we use clinical language to describe normal emotional experiences like grief, burnout and loneliness. This broadening of what we think counts as a disorder — known as concept creep — encourages us to pathologize ordinary life and see ourselves as mentally unhealthy.
Here is more from Clay Routledge at the NYT.
Odysseus notes
The subsection of the Georgi Gospodinov novel runs like this:
The Shortest Novel About Odysseus After His Return Home
One night, now old and flabby and starting to forget, he leaves his home secretly. He’s sick of everything, so he heads back one last time to see the places, women, and wonders he had once encountered. To go back again into his draimed memory to see how it had been and who he had been. Because thanks to the bitter irony of old age, he has begun to transform into the Nobody, the name he had once cleverly used when introducing himself to the Cyclops.
Telemachus finds him in the evening, collapsed by the boat, only a hundred yards from home, with no idea what he is doing there and where he had been heading.
They take him back to a house with some woman he no longer remembers.
The novel is Time Shelter, and the premise is that refuges are built for people with Alzheimer’s, reflecting life from past decades, for instance the 1960s. But then people from the present start wanting to live in them.
The Decision, the sequel
Imagine your career were coming to a close, how would you want it to end? By earning an especially large sum of money? Publishing a final wonderful paper? With an amazing act of mentorship?
When it comes to Lebron, had he wanted to finish his career with the guys he enjoys playing with the most, he would have opted for Golden State (Steph and Draymond).
If he had wanted to choose his favored organization, he would have signed with Miami.
Furthering the NBA prospects of his son Bronny, and having more time with family, would have meant staying in Los Angeles.
The hometown, sentimental choice would have been Cleveland.
As it turned out, he wanted to maximize his chances of winning a title, and with a team that did not just win a title (which rules out OKC, NYC). That meant signing with Philadelphia. Which is what he did.
What will your final major career decision look like?