Tag: nietzsche


Brexit and globalisation

March 30th, 2017 — 2:37pm

Two momentous events that took place last year were the election of Donald Trump to the presidency of the United States, and the UK’s referendum on EU membership that led to the “Brexit” decision to leave the union. The two are often lumped together and seen as symptoms of a single larger force, which they probably are. But in one respect they are different. The Trump presidency has an expiry date, but it is hard to see how Brexit might be reversed in the foreseeable (or even distant) future.

As a student and then an engineer in London during 2003-2007, one of the first vivid, intense impressions I got was that the UK was a much better integrated society than Sweden. Manifestly, people from all kinds of cultural backgrounds were – it seemed to the 19-year old me – living and working together smoothly on many social levels. During my life in Sweden until then, I had not ever seen immigration working out in this way. It was mostly seen and talked about as a problem that had to be addressed (and on a much smaller scale than what we have now).

This may of course reflect the fact that London has long been, until now, one of the most global cities in the world (Tokyo has nothing on it in this respect, although it has a massive energy and dynamic of a different kind), and the place I came from was rather rural. Countryside Britain was never as well integrated as London. World cities tend to be sharply different from the surroundings that support them. But on balance, the UK came across to me as a successfully global society.

In the years since, Sweden has, it seems to me, successfully integrated a lot of people and there are plenty of success stories. It has become a far more global society than it was in, say, 2003. At the same time, xenophobia has been on the rise, just as it has in the rest of Europe and the US, and now Swedish politics must, lamentably, reckon with a very powerful xenophobic party. Reactive (in the Nietzschean sense) forces are having a heyday. Ressentiment festers.

The global society is probably here to stay. The ways of life and work, the economic entities that now bestride the earth, are all firmly globalised. This is an ongoing process that may not end for some time. (However, this probably will never erase the importance of specific places and communities. To be rooted in something is in fact becoming ever more important.) But globalisation, to use that word, has plainly not brought prosperity to everyone. In fact, many have been torn out of prosperity by economic competition and technological advances. Witness American coal miners voting Trump. In my view, though not everyone will agree, a well-protected middle class is necessary to achieve a stable democratic society. Witness what happens when that protection is too far eroded. Neglecting this – which has been a failure of politics on a broad scale – is playing with fire. General frustration becomes directed at minorities.

Being somewhat confused ourselves, and living with weak or failing, if not xenophobic or corrupt, politicians and governments, we – western/globalised society – may need something that is utterly lacking: new ideology, new thinking, new dreams. Not a wishful return to the 90’s, 70’s or some other imagined lost paradise, but something that we can strive for positively, and in the process perhaps reconfigure our societies, politics and economies. For this to happen, people may need to think more, debate more, read more books, and be more sincere. Sarcasm and general resignation lead nowhere. One needs to look sincerely at one’s own history, inward into the soul, as well as outward.

A successful form of such new politics probably will not involve a departing from the global society. But it may involve a reconfiguration of one’s relationship with it. So as Theresa May’s government proceeds to negotiate the withdrawal of the UK from the EU – which must be a bitter, gruelling task for many of those involved – I hope that what she is initiating is such a reconfiguration. I hope that Britain can draw on its past success as a highly global society and constructively be part of the future of the West.

4 comments » | Life, Philosophy

AI and the politics of perception

August 1st, 2016 — 11:36am

Elon Musk, entrepreneur of some renown, believes that the sudden eruption of a very powerful artificial intelligence is one of the greatest threats facing mankind. “Control of a super powerful AI by a small number of humans is the most proximate concern”, he tweets. He’s not alone among silicon valley personalities to have this concern. To reduce the risks, he has funded the OpenAI initiative, which aims to develop AI technologies in such a way that they can be distributed more evenly in society. Musk is very capable, but is he right in this case?

The idea is closely related to the notion of a technological singularity, as promoted by for example Kurzweil. In some forms, the idea of a singularity resembles a God complex. In C G Jung’s view, as soon the idea of God is expelled (for example by saying that God is dead), God appears as a projection somewhere. This because the archetype or idea of God is a basic feature of the (western, at least) psyche that is not so easily dispensed with. Jung directs this criticism at Nietzsche in his Zarathustra seminar. (Musk’s fear is somewhat more realistic and, yes, proximate, than Kurzweil’s idea, since what is feared is a constellation of humans and technology, something we already have.)

But if Kurzweil’s singularity is a God complex, then the idea of the imminent dominance of uncontrollable AI, about to creep up on us out of some dark corner, more closely resembles a demon myth.

Such a demon myth may not be useful in itself for understanding and solving social problems, but its existence may point to a real problem. Perhaps what it points to is the gradual embedding of algorithms deeply into our culture, down to our basic forms of perception and interaction. We have in effect already merged with machines. Google and Facebook are becoming standard tools for information finding, socialising, getting answers to questions, communicating, navigating. The super-AI is already here, and it has taken the form of human cognition filtered and modulated by algorithms.

It seems fair to be somewhat suspicious — as many are — of fiat currency, on the grounds that a small number of people control the money supply, and thus, control the value of everybody’s savings. On similar grounds, we do need to debate the hidden algorithms, controlled by a small number of people (generally not available for perusal, even on request, since they would be trade secrets), and pre-digested information that we now use to interface with the world around us almost daily. Has it ever been so easy to change so many people’s perception at once?

Here again, as often is the case, nothing is truly new. Maybe we are simply seeing a tendency that started with the printing press and the monotheistic church, taken to its ultimate conclusion. In any case I would paraphrase Musk’s worry as follows: control of collective perception by a small number of humans is the most proximate concern. How we should address this concern is not immediately obvious.

Comment » | Computer science, Philosophy

The struggle over consciousness

October 15th, 2014 — 1:54pm

One of the major themes of Western philosophy since Plato is the elevation and near-deification of consciousness. Conscious thought and reflection have been prized above all else. Suspicion has been directed towards everything that is dark, murky, instinctive, unclear, unreasonable. Spirit has been emphasised above body. Christianity and its penal mechanisms was in no small part the engine used for this process for many centuries.

But what can consciousness really do? Every sequence of words I produce, every line of code I write, every sketch I draw or tune I play on the piano is for the most part not a product of conscious reflection. (Some earlier, unfinished thoughts on the limitations of reason here.) These productions are given to me, just as associations, feelings or moods are given to me – by the Other in me, the unconscious, the body. Through reflection I can remix and arrange these parts, critique them, say yes and no, but I cannot generate these things through purely conscious thought and logic. So what, in fact, was Western society really doing for 2000 years?

Nietzsche heralded the beginning of a reversal of this trend. In him, consciousness turns around, questions itself and finds that in the end, it isn’t all that powerful. A new philosophical school begins: a counter-movement that aimed, and aims to, reaffirm what is unthought, unseen, unreasonable. After him, thinkers like Freud, Jung (with his elaboration of the unconscious and his idea of “individuation”, psychological development understood as a harmonious union with the unconscious), Foucault (whose “History of madness”, if not almost his entire oeuvre, is almost entirely about this theme and the technicalities of how the unreasonable was suppressed) and Heidegger (in part) progressed on this path. But this reversal has only just begun. What are, in the grand scheme of things, the 130 years since Nietzsche’s productive years in the 1880s? The battle over the value of consciousness is in full swing and might be for centuries or millennia yet. And so we find ourselves, for now, living in a schizophrenic society, perhaps on the threshold of crossing over from a value system that praises consciousness to one that gives it a much more modest role.

 

Comment » | Philosophy

Science and non-repeatable events

May 29th, 2014 — 11:33am

Scientific method is fundamentally concerned with repeatable events. The phenomena that science captures most easily may be described using the following formula: once conditions A have been established, if B is done, then C happens. 

This kind of science is a science of reactions, of the reactive. But what about a science of the active? Is such a science possible?

To phrase what I have in mind in a different way, suppose that there are events in our universe that are not reproducible or repeatable. They would not be the consequence of some stimulus or trigger. But neither would they be the act of some imaginary god. They might simply be part of the same underlying, mysterious generator that is responsible for what we call scientific laws (patterns of reproducibility). (So far we have inferred some of the properties of this generator, but we are very far from apprehending it or understanding its totality and boundaries. Intellectual humility is crucial.) Would science be able to record and theorise about such events? Certainly not. Modern scientific method is firmly aimed at eliminating irreproducible results.

To put it in still another way, we are able to verify determinism in those cases where it holds up, but we are always unable to verify the absence of cases (in the past or in the future) where the deterministic rules break down.

This is a quandary, since it does seem that the world contains phenomena that are difficult to reproduce. The belief that the world can ultimately be reduced to a set of deterministic rules is not at all uncontroversial (and perhaps many physicists have given it up already). Particularly in biology, we constantly struggle to understand phenomena in terms of such rules. However, we can perhaps see biology residing at the boundary between the reactive/deterministic and the active/irreproducible. Gradual determinism? —

5 comments » | Bioinformatics, Computer science, Philosophy

Innocent knowing

April 3rd, 2014 — 1:11pm

Megurogawa

Knowledge can be associated with weight, heaviness, obligation, cynicism. Depending on one’s attitude, it can be seen as opposed to more “innocent” qualities such as beauty and play in many cases.

The more we know of our own history, and the more honestly we face it, the more gloomy we might become about the prospects for our future. This is true for individuals and for societies. Truly facing up to our past mistakes might erase all of our faith in a positive future. Thus a negative, passive kind of nihilism is born. On the basis of this, Nietzsche discusses, in “on the use and abuse of history for life”, and in other places, how ignorance actually preserves life and health in many cases. Truth can be a poison. The courage to leap ahead in defiance of the past, trying anew, which is essential for life, can be associated with stupidity as well as with heroism.

The connection between knowledge and guilt/heaviness goes even further back: in the bible, the fall of man in the garden of Eden is associated with the acquisition of knowledge and the shedding of ignorance.

Against this gloomy view Nietzsche later begins to formulate the ideal of “the gay science”, joyful knowing or “wild wisdom”. In Zarathustra he writes:

Three transformations of the spirit I name for you: how the spirit becomes a camel, and the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.

The meaning of these transformations is mysterious and subject to much interpretation. But it is usually understood that becoming a “camel” involves taking on a heavy load – the burden of knowledge, the burden of history and wisdom. The lion involves attaining the power to create new values. Finally, the child is a regained innocence.

Innocence with knowledge, play with science, beauty with honesty. Is this not one of the most difficult and profound, and also most worthy, formulas to strive for?

 

Comment » | Philosophy

Back to top