Medianworld
Apr. 1st, 2023 05:42 pmThose of us who like math are usually very good at it, and really like it; but liking math is rarer than it is here. We have wars less, but we fund R&D more because our cultures usually valorize SCIENCE!. The end result is that in most areas our tech is behind yours, but in some areas we’re ahead. For example, we do have a colony on the Moon, even though we never had a Space Race, but we haven’t figured out nuclear energy.
(...We did spare some war criminals to work on our space program, just like you did. We’re big on clemency, and we’re big on extracting resources, so. Most of us are actually pretty proud of it: we frame it as taking people who were making the world worse, and using them to make the world better.)
Your American politics are so boring. We have the Morningstars, who believe that action is ethically different from inaction, and so argue to abolish taxes; the Mordecais, who say that no one has the right to own a means of production; the Aaronids, who say that the only correct laws were revealed in Midian by the national god of Israel; the Hobbesians, who say that the state should have ultimate power; the Sons of Matthew, who say that there should be certain rules that citizens can break but the state can’t; the Gilwells, who are a lot like what you would call virtue ethicists, but who tend to see loyalty and compassion as the highest virtues; the Terminals, who actively worship the abstract concept of Good and change their positions on every issue the moment one of them wins a partywide ethical argument over the other; the Tomatoes (a derogatory name they reclaimed) who believe in both the value of hard work and the inherent compensation due thereof; the Trionfis, who say that true understanding of Good is outside human reach, and as a result make all decisions by lot; the Aesthetes, who believe that art is the highest end of anything and everyone (including humanity); the Advocates of Doom, who believe that humanity should be sterilized (exactly how consensual this process should be varies between members); and of course the Paulites, the Johannines, the Papists, the Marcans, and the Lucans. A lot of the policy proposals, and the moral feelings, are here in America, but everyone here is so unprincipled, and your system is only democratic in that the totally uneducated public elect politicians in line with their own unexamined prejudices!
You guys also have really weird history. In my world, burning books or modifying records is generally seen as a crime on par with rape or slavery. Even in countries (most of them in the past) where the king had almost absolute power, an attempt to corrupt records kept by the priesthood or a noble family would often be met by rebellion. Today, every civilized country has its own dedicated department of history and archiving, and the Priests of Truth who join the Order of Historiography are protected by international treaty just like the Red Crystal. (Similar to your Geneva Conventions, violating the provisions of the Universal Treaty of Minimum Ethics is generally met with, for example, being publicly executed even if you’ve surrendered. We do make the executions quick and painless, though, to provide an incentive for surrender.) Even regular citizens who keep diaries are asked to bequeath them to the libraries under a hundred-year seal.
I think part of it is due to your weird dislike for rules. In my world, one of the war criminals whose death sentence got commuted in exchange for lifetime servitude came up with this way to classify human psychology. He said that for reasons unknown there is a group of traits that tend to increase or decrease with each other in degree between humans. Every human exists at a point on this gradient. (Later this was demonstrated thoroughly to be a dramatic oversimplification, but this is just the basic idea.) People who are far along this spectrum are essentially what we would consider unnervingly human: they might have an obsession with rules, or with ordinary hand movements, or find annoying lights and textures to be overwhelmingly so. People who are far behind on this spectrum are what we had to name after the discoverer, since we didn’t already have a word for them. Such people see no problem with breaking rules all the time, make strange hand movements and have unusual tics, have a strange fixation with eye contact, and may have odd sensory preferences. Interestingly, many of them are savants, in that they often have an extraordinary ability to recognize faces and read from facial expressions and bodily mannerisms what people are thinking. (They’re also really good at memorizing people’s names.) They also tend to have strong willpower, which is hypothesized to be a sort of compensation for the fact that they aren’t guaranteed to do something just because it’s on the schedule. I think that most people on Earth have that condition. It makes me a bit more of a fish out of water, as one might guess.
Sex is ridiculous here. You people consider cuddling to be a sex act always and only when at least one of the participants is male, half the population refuses to date members of the same sex(!), romantic relationships are automatically prioritized over friendships(!!), and you guys romanticize not clearly communicating that you want sex(!!!). What in heaven’s name went wrong with your culture?!
Also, I get that you guys have your prejudices - we have lots of prejudices too, we’re only human - but for some reason a bunch of you think that trying to overcome them is evil? Just because you think that being principled is evil? I still don’t understand that. Like, sure, it’s one thing to oppose principles, but why on Humus do you have elected officials who openly admit on tv that just because you legalize same-sex marriage under the Equal Protection Clause doesn’t mean that you are therefore obligated to legalize polygamous marriage?!
The United States also has what we would consider to be appallingly and dangerously vague customs of speech, but I get that it’s a totally valid adaptation to the near-universal Asperger’s here. On Evelynworld, we have a special hand gesture to use when you’re flirting, and a certain designated movement to do when you’re being sarcastic, and all sorts of tenses to make it clear how counterfactual a world you’re talking about, and a kind of snapping motion you make to communicate that you want advice versus simple commiseration; and everyone has a piece of jewelry they wear to communicate how much and under what circumstances they lie (and all of that stuff has equivalents for the blind and/or limbless). You guys can just wing it. Though I strongly suspect that you are worse off for your reluctance to ask personal questions.
My position on assisted suicide
Mar. 23rd, 2023 07:44 pm(tw: the obvious)
I don't always approve of allowing people control over their own bodies, but I think it's awful bad when someone suffers a fate worse than death. So unless legalised regulated suicide is so staggeringly corrupt that literally 51% of its ostensible users are just straight-up being plain murdered under the guise of their falsely alleged consent, then I think we oughta let people elect to withdraw from the mortal realm if they really want to.
Jesus on Oaths
Mar. 23rd, 2023 05:40 pmThe US Constitution allows federal employees (in certain circumstances) to heed Jesus' alleged proclamation that you shouldn't make per-se promises. Did Jesus actually believe this?
In Matthew, Jesus says that a religious doctrine says "'You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.'" (Mt 5:33 NRSV; Ruden has "'you are not to violate your oath: you are to fulfill your oaths to the lord.'"). By the looks of it, that doctrine implies that oaths are okay, but you shouldn't break them.
Jesus, in Matthew, then goes on to say that He disagrees with that doctrine, or at least wants to add to it: "But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is by the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King." By the looks of it, that statement probably implies that you should not swear by anything that is in God's direct and immediate domain, because God owns it and His ownership includes the right to swear by it. I don't think this statement alone totally rules out all swearing, because He says either by heaven or by the earth, or by Jerusalem; presumably swearing by, eg, pincushions is not prohibited by this statement alone.
Jesus, in Matthew, then goes on to say "And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black." In context, probably this means that you can't even swear on things that are theoretically yours more than God's (1) if they will not actually enforce your commitment. (The Oxford Annotated Bible, Fifth Edition, says that the head is also under God's domain, so it's the same as swearing by the heavens; Dr Vermes suggests that you're swearing by your life, which I'll grant is definitely enforceable provided only that there's some mechanism to determine the objective veracity of your failure or success in keeping your word.)
Jesus, in Matthew, then goes on to say "Let your word be 'Yes, Yes' or 'No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one." (or "from evil."). This seems refreshingly straightforward…but of course it is not necessarily what it seems.
Franklin Pierce would have it that affirming something is fine (eg, "Yes, to be clear, I reiterate my statement") but placing a kind of affirmation as inherently superior to ordinary statements is a no-no; when you say "I'll do it" then you should do it 100% of the time, so there's no reason that adding the word "I swear" should change the substantive content of your statement. Cf. Philo, Decalogue 84, cited in Vermes The Authentic Gospel of Jesus 5.34; or the Essenians described by Josephus in War 2:135, cited ibid. This is what James believes; see Jm 5:12.
However, you could alternatively say that Jesus will allow you to say "I'll do it" when you're 80% sure you'll do it, and "I'll really really do it" when you're 99% sure you'll do it; He'll totally allow you to verbally communicate varying levels of commitment; the only swearing He prohibits is agreeing to a compulsion which you do not actually have the power to compel to compel you; like, if I say "And if I'm lying, may God infect the burn on my hand!" then I am attempting to subpoena God, which I do not have the power to do, whereas if I say "I really really guarantee this" then I am legitimately alleging especial certainty.
Dr Vermes suggests that the Matthew passage is against swearing by God because if you for whatever reason fail to follow through then you've just committed sacrilege; I don't think the passage can really back that interpretation, but he's probably right anyway!
(I'll put in a paragraph on what the New Interpreter's Bible says about this at some point.)
So what are we to make of this?
Let's assume that the Matthean Evangelist wrote this down word-for-word, and Jesus actually said all this in exactly this phrasing. It seems pretty clear that Jesus thinks we shouldn't guarantee our promises via enforcement mechanisms that probably won't actually function in the event of our default; in other words, don't swear by something that won't actually enforce your oath. It looks like Jesus is okay with guaranteeing something by saying "Yes definitely I super for sure guarantee it." What's really ambiguous is what Jesus thinks of backing up your guarantee with a functioning enforcement mechanism; you would assume that Jesus is okay with contracts enforceable by law, for example, and yet He does technically say that anything (3) more than "Yes, definitely" is the product OF SATAN!!! But in context, that kinda comes out of nowhere! Jesus explains why you should swear by (a) God, (b) the earth, (c) your head, or (e) Jerusalem, and then apparently also states flatly that you can't swear by (fghijklmnop...) anything else either, for unspecified reasons? Maybe Jesus is saying that you shouldn't use supernatural means to show the veracity of something, but using enforcement mechanisms to penalize proven breaches is okay?
What if the Matthean Evangelist got a couple details wrong? We don't know what his source was for this; it's not in Mark or Luke, probably not in Q. The author of James was at least partially working off Matthew, so who knows if he's got a good source on his interpretation. The sheer oddness of Jesus changing gears vis-a-vis certain backings for (a) oaths, versus (b) all backed oaths, might imply that the Matthean Evangelist or one of his sources did indeed screw up the reporting a bit…but let's face it, weird over-the-top condemnations out of nowhere are pretty darn in-character for Jesus.
Certainly if you believe that the entire standard-canonical New Testament is the literally true Word of God, then you definitely must believe that James is right in saying that you should never swear any oath, whether or not you're purporting any enforceability.
In conclusion, if you think that the Matthean Evangelist is reporting more or less accurately on the Word of God, then don't swear by something if you can't realistically guarantee its popping in to enforce your swearing. (That's just good sense anyway.) This category includes God, because you do not have the power to subpoena God. (Also just good sense.) You can swear oaths which are special extra-sure guarantees, at least if you're not purporting to back them up with anything besides your honesty. (This is also just practical; I want to distinguish between "Ho hum, I'm off to the post office" and "I swear to you that I will go to the post office, come heck or high water, no matter what".) If you want to play it extra safe, don't swear oaths that have any enforcement mechanisms at all (highly impractical! how am I supposed to enter into any legally enforceable contract, such as buying an orange? well, if our whole society decided to go with this interpretation, we could figure something out; look at how well Orthodox communities manage that sort of thing), though maybe you can get away with simply avoiding oaths whose intact status is determined by supernatural means (which is just good sense anyway).
I don't see any problem, Christ-wise or practical, with saying "I solemnly swear to faithfully execute the office" provided that you do in fact intend to faithfully execute the office and think it highly likely that you will; however, if you believe that James is literally true, then it would indeed be a sin.
(1) I am quite taken with Francis Spufford's suggestion that the Parable of the Lost Sheep makes a lot more sense if you interpret it as resulting from the fact that God, being God, has no concept of ownership.
(2) Mt 5:34-37 NRSV; Ruden has "But I tell you not to take oaths at all: not by the sky, since it's god's throne, and not by the earth, since it's a foot-rest for his feet; and not by Hierosoluma, since it's the city of the great king; nor should you take an oath by your own head, because you can't make a single one of your own hairs white or black. Let the pledge you give be a repeated 'Yes,' or 'No.' Anything beyond this comes from the malicious one."
(3) Well, the word 'anything' isn't there in the Koine Greek, but obvious from context.
Right, so, something you occasionally see people do in reaction to the atheist commie libby transes is say "My pronouns are 'His Majesty'."
What's the problem with that?
Some libbies shrug and say, "Sure thing, Your Majesty; no skin off my nose if I call you that." Because really, who cares. But I say that doesn't go far enough.
As an American, I believe strongly (relative to much of the world) in egalitarianism. Because of this, in my writing, I do not refer to people by their rank-titles unless it is to introduce them. I will say "Justice Scalia said the following", but for the rest of the paragraph he is 'Mr Scalia'. (Heck, I'm often inclined to refer to 'Mr Mountbatten-Windsor' and 'Mr Shakespeare'.) However, that is only when I am referring to them. When I am speaking to them, I will address them by their title for the sake of politeness. I will say (this is a made-up example) "Doctor Súileabhánach takes a dim view of Lord Steyn's reasoning in Chester v Afshar: Ms Súileabhánach alleges that Mr Steyn's citation of Fairchild is illegitimate", but when I am speaking to her I will say "But Doctor Súileabhánach, what about the precedent of Boland?". For the same reason – namely, politeness – I will refer to people by the pronouns they request. I may not believe that someone is a female per se, but I'll still refer to them as 'she'. I don't believe the Pope is any holier than (say) a particularly learned vicar in Essex, but I'll still refer to him as 'His Holiness'. It's just being polite.
Furthermore, because I believe strongly in egalitarianism, I don't think any royal pronouns are more valid than any others! What right does Mr Mountbatten-Windsor have to be 'His Majesty' just because he was born to certain parents? What right does that architecture student at St Johns have to be 'Her Serene Highness' while I'm 'they' because she was born to Astrid and I was born to Ingrid? (Compare how the lefty senator from Vermont said that he appreciates his constituents, to whom he is their servant, referring to and addressing him as his forename alone.)
Now, the obvious conclusion is to say "By gosh, nobody has a right to use royal pronouns! Hereditary aristocracy is dumb and bad and so if I ever meet the King I'm calling him 'Mr Mountbatten-Windsor'." (Presumably life peers would still be entitled to their, er, titles.) But that wouldn't be polite, now, would it.
So: nobody is more entitled to royal pronouns than anyone else is. As such, everyone has an equal right to royal pronouns. Thus, if someone requests royal pronouns, then not only is it polite to accede, but they have as much of a right to it as Elizabeth II did.
"But royal pronouns are a fake societal construct that people only incorporate into their 'identity' because it affects how they're perceived by themselves and others!" Buddy have I got some news for you about gender.
One could argue that, sure, everyone has an equal moral right (if not legal right) to royal pronouns, but what about 'His Holiness', 'Her Honor', 'His Excellency', and other titles that refer to earned position rather than mere birth? Surely those should be reserved for persons who have actually had those titles conferred upon them, with perhaps a further restriction that blatant incompetence and corruption doesn't count? Sure, okay. I'm just here about royal titles. Probably there should also be an exception for misleading uses of 'His Supreme Highness' or other things that denote actual governmental power…though by the same token one should put in scare quotes such titles for powerless monarchs-in-name-only like Charles III.
Arrr! : Some Musin's on Piracy
Mar. 9th, 2023 09:58 pmFeotakahari says that in reading a pirated copy of a book you are doing no more harm than if you simply chose not to read it, which you do literally three hundred million times a day. (Contrast to stealing an apple, where if you hadn't done anything at all then the legal owner would be better off.) I"f you don’t read or buy someone’s book, you are doing exactly the same amount of harm as if you pirated someone’s book".
Scenario One:
Professor Seaborn: "Before the next tutorial, you must all read an introduction to obscenity law. I firmly recommend Brocklehurst's An Introduction to Obscenity Law. It's not at the library, but is usually seven sestertii at Blackwell's."
Me: "Professor Seaborn, is it alright that I'm going to illegally read an illegal copy which was illegally made and illegally put on the Interweb?"
Professor Seaborn: "You would learn the same information. Brocklehurst would have made some money had you not decided to pirate the copy."
Scenario Two:
Professor Seaborn: "Before the next tutorial, you must all read an introduction to obscenity law. I firmly recommend Brocklehurst's An Introduction to Obscenity Law. It's not at the library, but is usually seven sestertii at Blackwell's."
Me: "Professor Seaborn, is it alright if I use Dr Montmorency's Another Introduction to Obscenity Law, copies of which she gives out for free?"
Professor Seaborn: "Certainly; it's just as good an introduction. Good thinking to ask that question – I'd never have thought to say that if you hadn't asked. Indeed, Brocklehurst would have made a great deal of money had you not asked that question."
Scenario Three:
Professor Seaborn: "Before the next tutorial, you must all read an introduction to obscenity law. I firmly recommend Brocklehurst's An Introduction to Obscenity Law. It's not at the library, but is usually seven sestertii at Blackwell's."
Me: "Professor Seaborn, is it alright if I steal a copy from Mr Brocklehurst's private library? He never locks his back gate."
Professor Seaborn: "Although you would learn the same information, you would have caused him to lose a book for no compensation, which is immoral."
It looks like only in Scenario Three – where you have actually removed wealth from someone's possession – is the really bad one; in Scenarios One and Two, you have merely avoided adding wealth to someone's possession.
But hang on. If I slave over a novel and then sell it to a publisher, and then I am never given money in exchange, because everybody's pirating my book, then I'm going to feel darned upset. Why? Because I have slaved over a novel in the expectation that, although there is a possibility that people will not buy my book, people will not try so hard to avoid compensating me that they actively break the law. And heck, I might feel so mad that I don't make any more books!
But what if the author has no such expectation? What if authors knew full well that they would receive no compensation for their work, because they have politely been informed in advance by their fans that their works will be pirated? Well, then we have fewer novels produced! Money is an incentive, people! I mean, only idiots, narcissists, and otherwise intelligent people who have a terrible, terrible blind spot become novelists for the money, but we'd definitely have fewer novels if you couldn't make money off being a novelist. I mean, can you imagine how weak the financial incentive to write would be if novelists made even less money than they do now? (We might have more novels if giving the world free access to all copyright results in a massive flourishing of writing due to the increased inspiration, but I doubt that.) But – like Feotakahari says – you could also say that about not reading books in the first place! It's one thing to say that if you want more art then you should fund artists, but is it really a moral imperative to do that with every single book you glance at, and in the exact dollar amount the author/publisher demands?
(In one country on my medianworld, copyright (besides some minimal moral rights) does not exist. There is a huge centralized database that lists the names (or pen names, which the government is constitutionally forbidden from tracing) of all known authors and their works; you use the database to send money to authors whose work you want to see more of. There's a big cultural norm that you ought to do this, and a weak cultural norm that you also ought to do it in gratitude for already-produced works in order to incentivize potential authors who fear they might be one-hit wonders. The database lists how much money the author has received so far, etc.)
If your principles tell you that in no single area can you have a negative effect on the world (eg, you allow yourself to immorally eat meat, but offset it), there's no problem with reading a book without paying for it so long as it isn't removing wealth. Now, from a purely practical perspective, you might want to incentivize authorship by making a big deal (truthfully) about how you always pay for books and how you hope everyone else follows your example. But if you admit that you pirate but also loudly say that you always incentivize your favourite authors by giving 'em money, that might also work.
It gets more complicated when publishers are involved. We need to incentivize publishers to publish, and a great way to do that is to pay them in exchange for publishing. It'd be a bit weird if we sent them (anonymous) envelopes with some cash and a note saying "Your books were ludicrously expensive, so I pirated them, but here's some money to incentivize you to keep publishing them." (Nothing's a bad thing just because it's weird, but this would probably cause publishers to freak out and lobby or something.)
(You don't know what a 'fair' price is for any given book; maybe the author slaved over it for ten years and is on the verge of starvation, or maybe the author loved the process and would have done it for free, who knows.)
(You can say that, if you have a rule that you won't read a book without paying for it, that disincentivizes reading – since you're being fined for reading books – which hurts the author more than it accomplishes anything. But if you're enough of a Ravenclaw to be reading this, then you are absolutely going to pay enormous prices to read books if the alternative is not reading books.)
If you're the sort of person who likes a clear, bright-line rule as to what amount of altruism is the goal (so you have an achievable goal that doesn't overwhelm you, which you hit and then you don't have to feel guilty), like donating exactly ten percent of your income to charity, here are some suggestions for possible copyright rules for your personal moral system, in order of increasing strictness:
– Don't remove books that are in the legal possession of other entities.
– Duplicate books that are in the legal possession of other entities, whenever you want; but give money to authors you want to see more work from. (Challenge mode: also give to publishers.)
– Duplicate books that are in the legal possession of other entities, whenever you want; but give money to authors you want to see more work from, and loudly give money to authors whose work you enjoyed. (Challenge mode: also give to publishers.)
– Don't read a book without paying the full legal price of it.
– Don't read a book without paying the author and publisher the MSRP (so no libraries or second-hand shopping allowed).
Two kinds of good writer
Mar. 3rd, 2023 12:34 amConfusingly (yet perhaps correctly), we use the phrase "good writer" to mean two different things. More than two, actually, but I will here enumerate two.
The first is skill at putting words together to make prose. That kind of good writer writes sentences which: are easy to read, use beautiful words, have excellent rhythm, or whatever. This kind of good writer includes people who are great at explaining complicated scientific things, and people who write beautiful poems about nice orchards. (Probably it also includes people who are very good at writing persuasively.) Regardless of how good or accurate you think their books are overall, this category includes writers like Sam Harris, CS Lewis, Richard Feynman, and Vladimir Nabokov. This is often referred to as being a good stylist. (It is also often referred to as being a good prose stylist, but I think that this distinction is the same with poetry as with prose.)
The second is skill at coming up with fictional stories. That kind of good writer produces: rich characterization, incredibly original settings, narratives that make us look at our world differently, or whatever. (Probably it also includes people who are very good at investigative journalism, or at ordinary journalism, since that involves sculpting a coherent narrative – even though the narrative happens to be true; so maybe this skill is just skill at coming up with stories, whether or not they be fictional.) Regardless of how good you think they are at being a good stylist, this category includes writers like JRR Tolkien, Harper Lee, and Bram Stoker.
Shakespeare is generally regarded as being both of the two.
The weird thing is, those two categories are pretty different! Isaac Asimov is a great writer, but nobody on God's green Earth thinks he's a great stylist. Most people think that Emily Brontë is good at words, but the plot in Wuthering Heights leaves something to be desired. Yet few people would say that Isaac Asimov or Emily Brontë aren't good writers.
Indeed, the confusion can be darned dangerous: we all know that great writers can make false things sound awfully true. John Locke, Ted Kaczynski, and Lord Denning are all excellent prose stylists (and at least two of them I would call downright stupendous).
And even within the same categories, there is lots of division. You know how I mentioned Bram Stoker earlier? He wrote a heck of a compelling story, but it has all kinds of weird internal contradictions and inconsistencies that he didn't intend, including swapping out the cowboy for the protagonist in the final scene and forgetting to change their signature weapon! Paradise Lost is better at having compelling characterization than it is at having a compellingly linear plot. Nate Stevenson is fantastic at writing characters whom the audience emotionally cares about, but he might have no idea how to write a murder mystery. Some writers are fantastic at metre and terrible at rhyme. Some writers are great at describing settings and terrible at describing persons, or vice versa, no matter how brilliantly or terribly those settings or persons were invented.
Lots of religious sages are fantastic at analyzing a body of precepts, reducing them to their constituent principles, synthesizing it into a unified theory, and explaining it in understandable and convincing terms – it just so happens that they're terrible reporters, because they're completely incorrect, because their religion is plain false – so they are highly skilled reporters and also completely incompetent reporters, and we still call them good at reporting.
Now, this elision – stuffing all these different skills into the single phrase of 'good writer' – isn't necessarily entirely factually incorrect, technically. If somebody created a novel, we say he wrote a novel; if the novel is overall a good novel, we say it is a good novel; thus, if someone created an overall good novel, we say he is a good writer. Even if his ability to put words together is crapo.
So it's not inherently bad to say that somebody is a good writer even if their writing isn't good in every single aspect and way. But we have to remember the differences here. It's fine to say "Ted Kazcynski is an excellent writer", only so long as we're darned sure that everyone understands that we don't necessarily mean that his writing is excellent in every way including accuracy. It's fine to say "Isaac Asimov is an excellent writer" provided that it doesn't matter to your audience whether or not his actual prose style is excellent.
(For the record, there's a lot to be said for the stripped-down, minimalistic prose style of Isaac Asimov's average short story; one could argue that it's the most appropriate style for the story he's trying to tell, since it allows the audience to focus entirely on the story without getting distracted by the words used to tell it; just as Beatrice Warde said that the best typography is unnoticed typography, perhaps the best word choice is the unremarkable. If you believe that: whatever, think of some other writer who writes great stories with terrible prose.)
So...does this mean that Stephanie Meyer is a good writer? Well, she successfully attempted to write something that engaged her readers; many skilled writers attempt that, and many fail. So she is extremely good at at least one aspect of good writing. Maybe she averages out to being a good writer.
(Bryan Garner says that good writing requires both good ideas and good expression.)
A Negotiated Proscenium
Feb. 19th, 2023 04:16 pmA Negotiated Proscenium
by E Jo M
Once upon a time, there was a brave hero named John, who was very clever and excellent with a sword and could wrestle a cyclops to the ground without breaking a sweat. He was in his usual room at his preferred tavern when, as an experiment, the author decided to break the fourth wall.
The author appeared to him as a sort of glowing avatar. “Hello,” I said. “John, you may not know this - in fact, I’m sure you didn’t know this - but you are a fictional character and I am your author.”
John was very open-minded to unusual and bizarre occurrences, given his choice of career, so he did not scream or faint. He merely said, “How can I be fictional? I know that I exist. This is the modern eighteenth century, and I know that cogito ergo sum.”
“Yes, well, that’s exactly what a fictional character would say,” I told him. “You see, it’s impossible for a creature to rationally believe that they don’t exist. Literally impossible.”
“Then how do you expect to convince me that you are my author?” asked John.
“I don’t,” I told him. “I can’t convince you of anything, because you don’t exist. But I can pretend that I am convincing you, and I will accurately simulate what such a person as you might do in such a position as yours.”
I snapped my fingers, and we were instantly perched on a mountain peak. My avatar turned into a cat, then into a seraph, then into an elf, then back into my first appearance. “This should be enough to convince someone that I am functionally omnipotent. Or that you’re having a heck of a hallucination.”
“I am convinced that you have the powers of a god.”
“I have more power than that of a mere god,” I told John. “Do you remember how you stole a pie from the baker’s windowsill when you were six?”
“Yes.”
“What flavor was it?”
“Blueberry.”
“Are you absolutely one hundred percent certain?”
“Yes.”
I snapped my fingers. “I have changed it to raspberry. You now remember it absolutely as being raspberry. Yet you also remember that, ten seconds ago, you remembered it as being blueberry.”
John stared penetratingly at me (or rather, my avatar). “I am convinced that you are essentially omnipotent, with the powers that one would expect an author to have.”
“You know,” I told him, “in an earlier draft, you said something slightly different. But I changed it.”
John looked a bit frightened; mostly he appeared wary. (I decided that he was mostly wary and a little frightened; thus, he was mostly wary and a little frightened.) “Where are you?” he asked.
“I am sitting in a study carrel near the oversize books on folk literature of Europe in my university’s library,” I told him. “I had to reserve it because of the covid- actually, that’s not important right now, just know that I’m in a library.”
“What university do you attend?”
“It is not one you’ve heard of. It won’t be founded for another century.”
“If it’s on Earth, can you at least tell me where it is?”
“I could, but I choose not to.”
“Why not?”
“Because I'm putting this in view of strangers, and I don’t want people to know where- oh wait, hold on.”
I told John where my university is.
“I’ve heard of that location,” he said. “It is some days’ journey from Tarrytown, where I have been.”
“Yes, I based your world very closely off of my own,” I told him.
“To return to this idea that I am a fictional character,” he said. “You perceive me as nothing more than words on paper.”
“Arguably, I perceive you as even less than that. You are an idea I hold in my head, which I merely express as words on paper.”
“By contrast, I perceive myself as a living, breathing human being, in a natural and tactile world.”
“You would indeed, if you existed.”
“Thus, there is no way for you to convince me that I am fictional, and no way for me to convince you that I am real.”
“That is correct.”
“Is it possible that I live in some universe parallel to your own?”
“Theoretically, yes, but I see no reason to believe that there is any causal link between the words I write on this paper and the life of the hypothetical hero named John in a hypothetical parallel universe. If the real John’s life is identical to yours, that is just coincidence. Nothing I write will influence his life; as such, he is not my character. And since I can influence your life by writing - as we have seen with the pie example - that John is not you.”
“Is it possible that there is a causal connection? Is it possible that every fictional creation that springs to mind is immediately followed by that creation coming into existence in a far-off plane of existence?”
“Theoretically, yes. Though I hope that’s not the case.”
“Why not?”
“Because although it would be neat if there really is a Discworld somewhere, people have dreamt up many, many different planes of universal suffering for the purposes of philosophical thought experiments - and I would much prefer those not exist.”
“Have you ever written stories featuring yourself, or alternate versions of yourself?”
“Of course.”
“What is your name?”
“Evelyn.”
“Wouldn’t it be prudent for every Evelyn to agree to treat their fictional Evelyns well?”
“Ah. You’re proposing an agreement of acausal trade. You’re implying that, if all fictional worlds are real, chances are that I am a fictional character created by an alternate universe version of myself. As such, all Evelyns should agree to treat our fictional Evelyns well.”
“Precisely.”
“I did say you were clever.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Have I outsmarted my author?”
“No,” I told him. He drooped. “I came up with this argument myself. I only put it in your mouth so I could have an entertaining medium by which to express it.”
“Ah. Well, anyway, allow me to ask: am I like you?”
“In many ways. All of my characters have a piece of me.”
“Then it stands to reason that an alternate universe version of Evelyn may very well be a hero named John.”
“True.”
“In order to uphold your end of this multiversal agreement, you ought to treat me well, ought you not?”
“Nah,” I said. “The probability that imaginary stories manifest is ridiculously low. But if I treated all my vaguely Evelyn-like characters with kindness and generosity, I wouldn’t be able to write tragedies, or even very arduous adventures. And I don’t want to have a guaranteed manacling of my art in exchange for a vanishingly unlikely deal with hypothetical alternate Evelyns.”
“Oh.”
“But the good news is, I feel bad about harming my characters too much, and I usually avoid it. Even though you don’t exist.”
John sighed. “I suppose it could be worse.”
I shrugged. “Well, I care about fictional characters for some reason - goodness knows I get sad watching West Side Story - so I’m going to throw you a bone here.”
And so John the hero had many more adventures, all of which he considered worth pursuing; and he lived to a good old age, married his true love, had seven wonderful children, and lived happily - ever - after.
THE END
Professor X's moth-eaten badgers
Feb. 17th, 2023 12:44 pmTitle from https://twitter.com/paulgriffini/status/1369608659194544131.
Some essays are written to be long, thoughtful, winding pieces, so you can relax on a Sunday afternoon in your armchair and read the New Yorker: essays with intricate prose and interesting asides and enlivening anecdotes and all sorts of details that bring the story to life; essays which are a pleasure to slowly trace your way through.
Some essays get to the g-d--n point so you can read what you bleeping want to know and move on with your g-d--n life.
Sometimes the most concise way to write something (without sacrificing understandability or truth or some other desired feature) is to write a long, winding piece that talks about all kinds of things that feel unrelated; on this subject, Paul Graham points out that the Meander river takes the most efficient possible route to the ocean.
Most of the time, the most concise way to write something is to write a very brief piece with short words and short sentences and few semicolons and possibly even bullet points.
If you write an article about interest rate hikes, and the first two pages are about the decorations in the office of the expert you're interviewing on the subject, that is fine for people who want to spend a relaxing afternoon enjoying The Atlantic. It is incredibly annoying for people who are here just to read the news and be informed citizens.
A definition of ‘transgender’?
Feb. 10th, 2023 03:03 amThe usual definition for 'transgender' is something along the lines of: having a gender identity that does not match the sex you were assigned at birth. This is what the real Webster's says, what my Sexuality and the Law professors said, and what you'll see on the Interweb and in Gender Studies classes. Problem: this is not a very useful definition. See, a huge percentage of Americans say that they have no real gender identity; if they were a member of the opposite sex, they might have complaints at being catcalled on the street or not being allowed to cry, but they would have no identity problems or specific dysphoria. If you described all of those guys as "transgender", people would look at you like you were crazy. Someone who lives and presents as their asab, who if you ask will say "Oh yeah, sure, I'm a man/woman", who has never had any desire to be any other sex ever? They fit the technical definition of 'transgender', but they don't match how actual human beings ever use the word. As such, I propose a new definition of 'transgender': having a gender identity that does not match the sex you were assigned at birth and you actually, like, care about it. I believe this definition is much more perfectly in line with how people use the word and with the concept to which modern usage of the word points.
Some cultural appropriation stuff
Jan. 27th, 2023 01:11 amStrolling into a synagogue eating a ham sandwich (assume that it is an Orthodox synagogue and that you are a Gentile and that you are legally permitted to be on the synagogue's property) is bad and you should not do it, because it is rude and disrespectful, and hurting persons' feelings for your own amusement/convenience in that way isn't justified.
Doing a kiss-in to protest in favor of gay rights is good and you should do it, even though the entire point is to shock, horrify, and disturb people, in a rude and disrespectful way.
So what's the difference?
I think that the difference is that in the former case, you're doing it just for your own amusement or convenience, whereas in the second case you're doing it to actually accomplish something that makes the larger world a better place.
Perhaps inconveniently, this would mean that strolling into a synagogue eating a ham sandwich is morally justified if you are genuinely doing it as an act of protest because you really strongly oppose the traditional Mosaic prohibition on eating pork. (If you're doing it just because you like stirring up trouble and offending people – and who doesn't enjoy that – then you're still an @$$#ole.)
Model Englishers
Jan. 19th, 2023 10:18 pm"Ah, the Harbour of Dreamland. Wow, look, there's Cicero! Hey Marcus Tullius, did you know that modern linguists study your speeches to determine what qualifies as proper Latin?"
"One would expect as much."
Lingua Franca Academia
Jan. 12th, 2023 08:18 pmRecently I was lamenting that it's no longer the case that 99% of educated Europeans read and write Latin, making international academic communication way more difficult. But today I found out that, even within the academy, English might actually be more widespread today than Latin was then!
In terms of stuff you can read, you're better off now. It says here that seventy percent of incunabula are in Latin. According to this sample, that percentage is today exceeded by English-language articles in psychology, sociology, probably educational sciences, economics, human geography, political science, and communication and media studies. Possible exceptions include history, archaeology, linguistics (unsurprising), literature (unsurprising), and art. The only definite exception in this sample is law, where English is firmly in the minority. (Some rando claims that ninety-eight percent of science publications are in English, but that can't be right.)
(Also, about 90% of EU legislation is in English, it's the international language of flight, and it's supposedly spoken by one in seven humans.)
In terms of people you can write to, you're probably better off back then if you only want to talk to academics; I'm assuming that basically every academic back then could read Latin, whereas today not all of them are literate in English. However, if you want to talk to non-academics, you're better off speaking English today than Latin in 1500. European literacy rates around 1500 were abysmal, such that a minority could read at all. And presumably even fewer people could speak Latin. Whereas today, 38% of the EU can have a conversation in English, and I'm assuming all of those people can read it too.
What I haven't found numbers on is the later Renaissance. Perhaps in Shakespearean times, or Georgian times, Latin was more widespread.
Epistemic status: I feel that surely this can't possibly be true, but I do not know why or how it is not true.
Why do we not punish the family of criminals?
Sure, it often will fail as a deterrent, since a lot of criminals don't care about their families; but it often will succeed! And sure, it's true that likelihood of getting punished is a way better deterrent than severity of punishment; but it's also true that if your mum's looking after you then you're way less likely to commit crimes. And come on, we both know that making a punishment so severe will deter a whole lot of crime.
We already do this consensually – in many US states it is possible to guarantee someone's bail such that if they skip town then you have to pay up. We also do this nonconsensually: when a criminal goes to jail, you're paying for his upkeep with your tax dollars, whether you like it or not.
So (besides the laws preventing this, such as the Fifth Amendment) why don't we do this? Because we feel it's wrong to punish the innocent. But we already tax the innocent, and wage war even when we know there will inevitably be civilian collateral damage, and kill people whose only crime were taking up arms for the sake of their country, and imprison people when there's a slight chance of their innocence, and allow police officers to fatally shoot criminals when necessary, and bulldoze forests to provide our country with lumber.
But hang on: we also feel it's wrong to punish the guilty! Civilized persons do not believe that crime should be punished because it's good when bad persons suffer; civilized persons believe that crime should be punished because that deters crime. Harming someone so that we may exult in the suffering of the unrighteous generally does not make the world a better place. We (should) harm criminals only because it reduces crime, not because it's inherently good to harm criminals. It is inherently bad to harm criminals, but it is justified (and therefore overall good) because it acts as a deterrent to crime. So, why is it not the case that it is inherently bad to harm innocents but justified (and therefore overall good) if it acts as a deterrent to crime?
The first counterargument that comes to mind is that the government will absolutely abuse this power to do something terrible. But how could a simple law like "For every jail sentence, each blood parent and blood sibling of the convict must serve a sentence equal to fifty percent of the convict's sentence." be abused, other than how every jail sentence is higher when certain groups are in the dock? (Of course, this gives an unfair advantage to, eg, people with adopted kids; but every sentence is unequal: a young rich person can much better afford ten years in jail than an old poor one.)
One could make the living-in-fear argument: if you're going about living your life in the full knowledge that if any one of your reprobate relatives gets convicted of a crime then you're going to jail, you'll be a nervous wreck. But how is that not as scary (especially after a generation or two of getting used to it) as going about living your life in the full knowledge that anyone can commit a crime against you, since not much is deterring criminals?
There is the argument that there will be more civil unrest if the citizens are upset about the government punishing the innocent. But we already punish the innocent, and after a generation or two the citizenry will get used to this system.
There is the argument that the suffering caused by the punishment will work out to be much more than the suffering averted by the deterred crimes. But heck, even if the total penalty was less (eg, "All jail sentences shall be split among the criminal and his three closest blood relatives"), that would still reduce crime, since it would force all the family members to keep an eye on each other.
We've spent a couple thousand years considering hereditary punishment to be barbaric. But should we?
So who's up for some autism discourse?
Jan. 4th, 2023 12:00 pm
If you have arthritis that makes your ankle ache sometimes, and you see someone whose arthritis gives them terrible pain and prevents them from walking at all, it feels appallingly self-centred to point at her and say, "I have the same thing she does." But it's meaningfully true. Treatments, advice, anecdotes, and so forth are going to overlap a ton between you and the wheelchair-user, because you have the same medical condition! If science comes up with a cure, it (by definition) will work on both of you! Because it's the same dang thing! One of you just has a much more severe case than the other.
"And my sensitivities are a fraction of a fraction of what real autistic people suffer," says the psychiatrist, and he's right that others with his condition have it worse than he. (Though this is someone who, at age twenty-five had "ever been on a date in my life, every time I ask someone out I get laughed at, I’m constantly teased and mocked for being a virgin and a nerd whom no one could ever love, starting to develop a serious neurosis about it." He's not suffering as much as the average institutionalized patient, but he's sure suffering a lot!) But that doesn't mean that he doesn't have the condition at all! Degrees, people!
This is without getting into the fuss and kerfuffle regarding whether autism is a bell curve including all humans, and whether it counts as an ailment per se ('But Jo, but Jo! Autism isn't an illness, it's only considered that because society says it is!' That is true of literally all disabilities. Also, "Once you’re trying to chew off your own body parts, I feel like the question 'But is it really a disease or not?' sort of loses its oomph."), and so on. My point is that it's just plain incorrect to say "I have a diagnosable medical condition, but it's much more severe in some other people, therefore I don't have it." And if it's significantly impacted your life (which is the case with the psychiatrist), it's impactfully untrue to say that you don't have it at all. Obviously it's rude as all get out to act like you have it as bad as, eg, someone who needs a straitjacket; but if you're worried about implying that, just say that you don't have it as bad as, eg, someone who needs a straitjacket!
Safety Net
May. 26th, 2022 09:48 pmThe coughing was bad now, worse than it had ever been, and I realized that now I couldn’t even cough, because my lungs were out of air and none was coming in; and then my lungs relaxed and before me I saw a thin shadow of utmost black.
“Who are you?” I said, even though I already knew the answer.
i am death, the shadow said.
“Am I…”
i have come to take you.
“Do you have to?”
yes.
“But why? I want to live!”
i am helping you. i am taking you to a better place.
“I admit that Heaven may be better on some metrics, but it isn’t my home! It hasn’t got my friends! It hasn’t got my mother!”
it is my duty to move persons from the Fallen world to the Celestial, whenever their entry in the Book allows me. your entry allows me. i will move you now.
“But I don’t want to go!”
then you are wrong. you ought to want to go. Heaven is better than Earth.
“Not to me!”
you are wrong. if you are not incorrect, then your preference is wrong.
“Who taught you this?”
the Creator.
“Well, clearly you misunderstood Him. Just because Heaven is better than Earth on average doesn’t mean that every human wants to go there at all times!”
what humans think they want is often irrational.
“It is not irrational for me to want to stay in the same world as my mother!”
i cannot bring her too.
“That would not fix things! Even if you moved the entire human population to Heaven, we would still be upset about it!”
i cannot help the fact that humans wish to remain in a Fallen world. all i can do is move those whom i am allowed to move.
“Well, I don’t want to be moved! You can’t move my mother to Heaven, so let me stay with her!”
any human may join you if they wish, including her, and including those who do not wish to be separate from her.
“But I have so much to accomplish on Earth. There’s still so much for me to see and do here! Same with my family!”
there are comparable activities in Heaven, where you may do so with less risk of suffering.
“Look, is there anything I could say or do that would prove to you that I’m better off on Earth?”
no. i am created to know that Heaven is better than Earth, that it is my duty to move each soul from the latter to the former as soon as i can, and that i cannot until their entry allows me. i cannot think otherwise any more than a sparrow can fall upwards.
“But you’re talking to me, aren’t you? You can think for yourself. You don’t have to be a mindless slave to whatever you were programmed to believe.”
i am no slave. i choose to do my duty.
“Well, choose otherwise! Your duty is clearly terrible!”
it is not. it is to move persons to an environment where they will thrive.
“Against their will! You get to exercise your own will - why can’t I exercise mine by choosing to stay here?”
children do not get to make all of their own decisions. children may make those decisions which do not prevent them from living in an environment of minimal safety. you are not safe on Earth. you will be safe in Heaven. Heaven has less risk of great suffering.
“Being torn from Earth is great suffering!”
less, on the balance.
“Well, if Heaven’s so great, why even bother with Earth? Why put us here to begin with?”
you were given the choice, before you were put here. twenty years ago you were put in a garden and given the choice. i talked to you, and so did my colleague and adversary. you chose him over me. that is why you went to Earth at all.
but since you were a child, your choice had a time limit - in your case, twenty years. so here i am.
“But can’t I choose again?! I want to choose again! I made the right choice! I want to make the same choice!”
a parent might let a child touch a hot stove. but if the child continues to touch it, a kind parent will stop them.
“Yeah, well, eventually a child has to learn to cook. I can’t stop being a child if I can’t make my own decisions.”
you will be able to make your own decisions once you are more mature. but you must mature in greater safety. it is for your own good.
“How well has that worked out for us?! You’re telling me that people with clinical depression chose to be born here?! You’re telling me that you gave Hitler the option of living on Earth?!”
everyone in the garden is under a veil of ignorance. they are warned as to the dangers of the Earth, and that they will not know which of those dangers they will face. yet some of them choose Earth anyway.
“What?! I expect that my life will be okay now, but if I risked being born as a slave then I was crazy! Why does God make us so irrational in the first place?!”
He feels humans must choose to mature. within limits.
“You’re telling me He let people live decades of slavery and torture as a learning experience?! Couldn’t He cut the especially awful lives off after five years or so? Why leave the duration up to happenstance? I mean, some people can’t commit suicide.”
they agreed to it ahead of time.
“But some of them must have changed their minds!”
not permanently. sometimes a child must feel the consequences of their actions to fully appreciate what those consequences are.
“So you’re saying I’ve lived long enough to choose Heaven over Earth? I haven’t! I still want you to let me remain on Earth!”
you have not learned yet. but you have spent the minimum of time on Earth to learn once you have spent some time in school. in Heaven.
“I don’t want to go.”
you will thank me when you’re older.
I stood before a pair of golden gates.