Showing posts with label abstraction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abstraction. Show all posts

Monday, April 21, 2025

My new-found patriotism @3QD

Here’s my latest 3QD article: Why I am a Patriot: Vietnam, the Draft, Mennonites, and Project Apollo. The opening paragraphs:

Sometime in the past two weeks I found myself feeling patriotic in a way I don’t remember ever having felt before. I accounted for this feeling by invoking that old adage, “you don’t recognize what you have until you lose it.” The current federal administration has stolen my country from me. They’ve highjacked America. The America to which I pledged allegiance every morning in primary and secondary school, that America is being pillaged, plundered, and sold off for parts to greedy megalomaniacs and oligarchs.

Now that the nation is being destroyed, I realize that I’ve been bound to America my entire adult life. If I hadn’t felt those bonds before – except perhaps for a moment in the mid-1980s when I played “The Star Spangled Banner” for 25,000 bikers at Americade in Lake George, me alone on my trumpet, without the rest of the band – that’s because I’d taken the idea of America for granted. To invoke another cliché, just as the fish is oblivious to the water in which it swims, so I was not consciously aware of the freedom and dignity, of the liberty and justice for all, which made our national life possible.

I’d read our founding documents, The Declaration of Independence and The Constitution of the United States, decades ago. I knew about the Boston Tea Party, the midnight ride of Paul Revere, Washington at Valley Forge, all that and more, it was in my blood. And now...well, why don’t I just get on with it and tell my story.

Then the essay. I begin by pointing out that “patriotism” is an abstract thing:

You can’t see it, hear it, touch it, taste it, or smell it. It is abstract, like gravity, the unconscious, evolution, or spirit. Just how abstract concepts are defined and how we come to understand them, that is not at all clear.

I then introduce a definition from Claude 3.7. It ends by asserting:

Different people express patriotism in different ways – from serving in the military to participating in democratic processes, engaging in constructive criticism of government policies, or working to uphold national ideals like freedom, equality, or justice.

The rest of the essay is about how I have experienced and expressed my patriotism at various points in my life. I start with the childhood, where I said the Pledge of Allegiance every day in school, pointing out that the abstract words in the pledge – allegiance, republic, liberty, justice – probably didn’t become meaningful until my adolescence. Before that, just word forms devoid of substantial meaning.

Then I have sections on becoming a conscientious objector during the Vietnam war, travelling to a Mennonite college, Goshen College, to talk about my book on music (Beethoven’s Anvil), finally on Project Apollo, the moon landing in 1969. That’s all about how I became attached to the abstract ideas on which the United States of America was founded. When I talk of attachment I mean, fundamentally, the biological mechanisms by which infants become attached to their mothers.

I learned about attachment when I was an undergraduate at Johns Hopkins. I took a course in developmental psychology from Mary Ainsworth and then went on to do an independent study with her. Attachment was the subject. She was one of the co-founders of attachment theory. She’d worked with John Bowlby, the first founder, and then done field research in Uganda where she looked at how infants became attached to their mothers. She introduced me to Bowlby’s Attachment (1969) before the manuscript had been published and had me read some of the early ethological studies of primate behavior in the wild.

However, it is one thing for infants to become attached to their mothers, and mothers to their infants. That’s done by biological mechanisms. How then can those same mechanisms be directed toward abstract objects, like nations in the case of patriotism. As far as I can tell, not much is known about that, though there has been some work. Clearly extensive cultural mechanisms are involved.

My 3QD article isn’t about those mechanisms. Rather, it shows the kinds of behavior that are made possible through those mechanisms. If you want a glimpse of the mechanisms, I have a long and complex paper that examines how they operate in a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Talking with Nature in “This Lime-Tree Bower My Prison”.

Friday, April 11, 2025

What is patriotism?

As I have indicated in my ramble of April 9, I have decided to write an article about patriotism for 3 Quarks Daily. My tentative title: “My New-Found Patriotism: Vietnam, the Draft, Mennonites, and Apollo.” I expect the article to appear during the week of April 21.

If I’m going to write about patriotism, then perhaps I should define it. That’s tricky. Why? Because patriotism isn’t a concrete phenomenon. You can’t see it, hear it, touch it, taste it, or smell it. It is abstract, like gravity, the unconscious, evolution, spirit, or sodium chloride. Just how abstract concepts are defined is not at all clear.

David Hays, my teacher, mentor, and colleague, proposed that abstract concepts are defined over patterns of concrete events. Our standard example is “charity.” What is charity? Charity is when someone does something nice for some else without thought of reward. Any pattern of events that fits that pattern qualifies as an act of charity.

When a Boy Scout helps a little old lady to cross the street, that’s an act of charity. When Girl Scouts go to the Old Folks Home, serve a meal to the residents, and then play cards and board games with them in the evening, that’s an act of charity as well, several acts in fact. Giving alms to the poor, charity. When a rich nation donates food, clothing, and medical supplies to a poor nation, that too can be an act of charity. Acts of charity come in all shapes and sizes, and can be performed by both real actors, like those Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, but also artificial actors (“juristic persons” in legal parlance) like nation states.

With that in mind, I consulted Claude 3.7 Sonata, asking it to define patriotism. Here’s what it said:

Patriotism is a feeling of love, devotion, and attachment to one's country or homeland. It encompasses a sense of pride in a nation's achievements, culture, and values, as well as a commitment to supporting its interests and well-being.

True patriotism often includes:

  • A deep appreciation for one's country's positive attributes while acknowledging its imperfections
  • A desire to contribute to national improvement through civic engagement
  • Respect for national symbols, traditions, and institutions
  • A connection to shared national history and identity

Patriotism differs from nationalism in that patriotism is generally considered more moderate and inclusive, focusing on love of country without necessarily claiming superiority over others, while nationalism often emphasizes national identity and interests above all else, sometimes leading to an attitude of superiority.

Different people express patriotism in different ways - from serving in the military to participating in democratic processes, engaging in constructive criticism of government policies, or working to uphold national ideals like freedom, equality, or justice.

Notice that that final paragraph lists some general classes of actions through which one exhibits, through which one enacts, patriotism. Thus, my article will, at least in part, be about some of the actions I have taken that exhibit patriotism.

After Claude had offered that definition, I continued our discussion. I have appended that to this post. As always, my statements are in bold face type while Claude’s are plain face.

* * * * *

Can one commit civil disobedience and still be a patriot?

Yes, civil disobedience and patriotism can absolutely coexist and often have throughout history. In fact, many who engage in civil disobedience view their actions as deeply patriotic for several reasons:

Civil disobedience can reflect a commitment to a nation's highest ideals rather than blind allegiance to its current policies or laws. Those who practice it often do so precisely because they love their country and want it to live up to its professed values. Historical examples illustrate this relationship:

  • Henry David Thoreau, who wrote the influential essay "Civil Disobedience," refused to pay taxes to protest the Mexican-American War and slavery, based on his understanding of American ideals of freedom and justice.
  • Martin Luther King Jr. explicitly framed his civil rights activism as patriotic, arguing that by challenging unjust laws, he was calling America to fulfill its promise of equality for all citizens.
  • The suffragettes who broke laws to advocate for women's voting rights did so because they believed in the democratic principles their nation espoused.

Patriotism that includes critical engagement with one's country's flaws can be more substantive than patriotism that demands unquestioning loyalty. As James Baldwin noted, "I love America more than any other country in the world, and exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually."

In this view, working to reform one's country through peaceful but unlawful protest when other avenues have failed demonstrates a deeper commitment to national improvement than passive acceptance of the status quo.

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Current Perspectives on Abstract Concepts and Future Research Directions

Banks, B., Borghi, A. M., Fargier, R., Fini, C., Jonauskaite, D., Mazzuca, C., Montalti, M., Villani, C., & Woodin, G. (2023). Consensus Paper: Current Perspectives on Abstract Concepts and Future Research Directions. Journal of Cognition, 6(1): 62, pp. 1–26. DOI: https://doi.org/10.5334/joc.238

Abstract: Abstract concepts are relevant to a wide range of disciplines, including cognitive science, linguistics, psychology, cognitive, social, and affective neuroscience, and philosophy. This consensus paper synthesizes the work and views of researchers in the field, discussing current perspectives on theoretical and methodological issues, and recommendations for future research. In this paper, we urge researchers to go beyond the traditional abstract-concrete dichotomy and consider the multiple dimensions that characterize concepts (e.g., sensorimotor experience, social interaction, conceptual metaphor), as well as the mediating influence of linguistic and cultural context on conceptual representations. We also promote the use of interactive methods to investigate both the comprehension and production of abstract concepts, while also focusing on individual differences in conceptual representations. Overall, we argue that abstract concepts should be studied in a more nuanced way that takes into account their complexity and diversity, which should permit us a fuller, more holistic understanding of abstract cognition.

From the article:

For example, when contrasted with concrete concepts, abstract concepts are typically expressed by words with a later Age of Acquisition, and through linguistic explanations rather than denoting their referents directly (linguistic Modality of Acquisition; Wauters et al., 2003). They also tend to be less imageable, have lower Body Object Interaction scores (BOI: Tillotson et al., 2008; Pexman et al., 2019), and be less easily linked to specific contexts (contextual availability; Schwanenflugel & Stowe, 1989). Abstract concepts are also more variable across participants and cultures (Wang & Bi, 2021) and are generally less iconic (Lupyan & Winter, 2018) than concrete concepts.

Later:

The multidimensional nature of abstract concepts means that defining them purely based on whether they are perceivable or not (i.e., as concrete or abstract) fails to capture their complexity (e.g., Barsalou, Dutriaux & Scheepers, 2018; Borghi et al., 2017), and indeed can even be misleading. Banks and Connell (2022) used the Brysbaert et al. (2014) concreteness ratings to analyze the structure of semantic categories collected in a category production (semantic fluency) task, examining the concreteness of the concepts that comprise ostensibly concrete (e.g., animal, furniture) and abstract (e.g., science, unit of time) categories. Although members of concrete categories overall were more highly rated on concreteness, many (e.g., metal: silver, hat: beret) unexpectedly had similarly high concreteness ratings to more abstract category members (e.g., profession: lawyer, social relationship: teammate). Indeed, certain abstract concepts such as beauty or fitness have been associated with sensory and motor areas of the brain (temporo-occipital visual and fronto-parietal motor areas, respectively; Harpainter et al., 2020). Furthermore, when sensorimotor experience is measured via multiple individual modalities (e.g., Lynott et al., 2020; Speed & Brysbaert, 2021; Vergallito et al., 2020), the concrete-abstract distinction becomes even less clear. When the verbally-produced category members from Banks and Connell (2022) were analyzed based on their grounding in multiple perceptual modalities (vision, hearing, touch, smell, taste, interoception) and actions involving specific parts of the body (the head, hands/arms, feet/legs, torso and mouth) many abstract category members were in fact found to be strongly grounded in sensorimotor experience (e.g. sport, social gathering, art form; Banks & Connell, 2021) – that is, the concrete-abstract distinction was much less apparent.

Comment: I note, as an extreme example, that sodium chloride is a concrete physical substance, but the concept is abstract, as opposed to the concept, salt, which is concrete. Less, extreme, animals are all physical things, but the concept, animal, seems to be abstractly defined, the same with plant. Try to produce compact physical descriptions that encompass all plants or all animals. It is between difficult and impossible. What all animals seem to have in common are the roles they can play with respect to verbs such as see, hear, smell, run, jump, eat, and so forth, in contrast to plants and mere physical objects. Similarly, plants can live, grow, and die, while physical objects cannot. And then we have terms such as chair and table, which seem best defined in terms of their affordances for people rather than their physical characteristics, which can vary widely.

The article continues with some more discussion and offers this: "many theories have also argued that our understanding and representation of abstract concepts relies more on language than the sensorimotor dimension, and particularly linguistic distributional relations (e.g., Borghi, 2020; Crutch & Warrington, 2005; Dove et al., 2020; Vigliocco et al., 2009)."

And so forth. An interesting and useful piece of work.

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Abstraction in neural networks & Abstract concepts

W. Jeffrey Johnston & Stefano Fusi, Abstract representations emerge naturally in neural networks trained to perform multiple tasks, Nature Communications 14: 1040 (2003), https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-023-36583-0

Abstract: Humans and other animals demonstrate a remarkable ability to generalize knowledge across distinct contexts and objects during natural behavior. We posit that this ability to generalize arises from a specific representational geometry, that we call abstract and that is referred to as disentangled in machine learning. These abstract representations have been observed in recent neurophysiological studies. However, it is unknown how they emerge. Here, using feedforward neural networks, we demonstrate that the learning of multiple tasks causes abstract representations to emerge, using both super- vised and reinforcement learning. We show that these abstract representations enable few-sample learning and reliable generalization on novel tasks. We conclude that abstract representations of sensory and cognitive variables may emerge from the multiple behaviors that animals exhibit in the natural world, and, as a consequence, could be pervasive in high-level brain regions. We also make several specific predictions about which variables will be represented abstractly.

Banks, B., Borghi, A. M., Fargier, R., Fini, C., Jonauskaite, D., Mazzuca, C., Montalti, M., Villani, C., & Woodin, G. (2023). Consensus Paper: Current Perspectives on Abstract Concepts and Future Research Directions. Journal of Cognition, 6(1): 62, pp. 1–26. DOI: https://doi.org/10.5334/joc.238

ABSTRACT: Abstract concepts are relevant to a wide range of disciplines, including cognitive science, linguistics, psychology, cognitive, social, and affective neuroscience, and philosophy. This consensus paper synthesizes the work and views of researchers in the field, discussing current perspectives on theoretical and methodological issues, and recommendations for future research. In this paper, we urge researchers to go beyond the traditional abstract-concrete dichotomy and consider the multiple dimensions that characterize concepts (e.g., sensorimotor experience, social interaction, conceptual metaphor), as well as the mediating influence of linguistic and cultural context on conceptual representations. We also promote the use of interactive methods to investigate both the comprehension and production of abstract concepts, while also focusing on individual differences in conceptual representations. Overall, we argue that abstract concepts should be studied in a more nuanced way that takes into account their complexity and diversity, which should permit us a fuller, more holistic understanding of abstract cognition.

Saturday, September 2, 2023

Steven Harnad: Symbol grounding and the structure of dictionaries

Stevan Harnad: AI's Symbol Grounding Problem, The Gradient podcast, August 31, 2023

Stevan Harnad is professor of psychology and cognitive science at Université du Québec à Montréal, adjunct professor of cognitive science at McGill University, and professor emeritus of cognitive science at the University of Southampton. His research is on category learning, categorical perception, symbol grounding, the evolution of language, and animal and human sentience (otherwise known as “consciousness”). He is also an advocate for open access and an activist for animal rights.

Outline:

  • (00:00) Intro
  • (05:20) Professor Harnad’s background: interests in cognitive psychobiology, editing Behavioral and Brain Sciences
    • (07:40) John Searle submits the Chinese Room article
    • (09:20) Early reactions to Searle and Prof. Harnad’s role
  • (13:38) The core of Searle’s argument and the generator of the Symbol Grounding Problem, “strong AI”
  • (19:00) Ways to ground symbols
  • (20:26) The acquisition of categories
  • (25:00) Pantomiming, non-linguistic category formation
  • (27:45) Mathematics, abstraction, and grounding
  • (36:20) Symbol manipulation and interpretation language
  • (40:40) On the Whorf Hypothesis
  • (48:39) Defining “grounding” and introducing the “T3” Turing Test
  • (53:22) Turing’s concerns, AI and reverse-engineering cognition
  • (59:25) Other Minds, T4 and zombies
  • (1:05:48) Degrees of freedom in solutions to the Turing Test, the easy and hard problems of cognition
  • (1:14:33) Over-interepretation of AI systems’ behavior, sentience concerns, T3 and evidence sentience
  • (1:24:35) Prof. Harnad’s commentary on claims in The Vector Grounding Problem
  • (1:28:05) RLHF and grounding, LLMs’ (ungrounded) capabilities, syntactic structure and propositions
  • (1:35:30) Multimodal AI systems (image-text and robotic) and grounding, compositionality
  • (1:42:50) Chomsky’s Universal Grammar, LLMs and T2
  • (1:50:55) T3 and cognitive simulation
  • (1:57:34) Outro

The podcast site also has links to Harnad’s webpages and to five selected articles. One of them in particular, about the structure of dictionaries, interested me. Here’s the citatioin, abstract, and a link:

Philippe Vincent-Lamarre, Alexandre Blondin Massé, Marcos Lopes,Mélanie Lord, Odile Marcotte, Stevan Harnad. The Latent Structure of Dictionaries. Topics in Cognitive Science 8 (2016) 625–659. DOI: 10.1111/tops.12211. (Open Access)

Abstract: How many words—and which ones—are sufficient to define all other words? When dictionaries are analyzed as directed graphs with links from defining words to defined words, they reveal a latent structure. Recursively removing all words that are reachable by definition but that do not define any further words reduces the dictionary to a Kernel of about 10% of its size. This is still not the small- est number of words that can define all the rest. About 75% of the Kernel turns out to be its Core, a “Strongly Connected Subset” of words with a definitional path to and from any pair of its words and no word’s definition depending on a word outside the set. But the Core cannot define all the rest of the dictionary. The 25% of the Kernel surrounding the Core consists of small strongly connected subsets of words: the Satellites. The size of the smallest set of words that can define all the rest— the graph’s “minimum feedback vertex set” or MinSet—is about 1% of the dictionary, about 15% of the Kernel, and part-Core/part-Satellite. But every dictionary has a huge number of MinSets. The Core words are learned earlier, more frequent, and less concrete than the Satellites, which are in turn learned earlier, more frequent, but more concrete than the rest of the Dictionary. In principle, only one MinSet’s words would need to be grounded through the sensorimotor capacity to recognize and categorize their referents. In a dual-code sensorimotor/symbolic model of the mental lexicon, the symbolic code could do all the rest through recombinatory definition.

Finally, somewhere latish in the conversation Harnad made an incisive remark about the vexed issue of whether or not LLMs really understand language. The issue, he remarked, is not whether or not they understand language as we do, but how they can do so much without such understanding. YES, a thousand times yes.

He also noted that he enjoys working with, what was it? ChatGPT. So do I, so do I. And I haven’t the slightest suspicion, worry, or hope that it might be sentient. It is what it is.

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Some comments on “intelligence” for jinzo ninge (Japanese for “artificial beings”)

Back in mid-March Scott Aaronson made a post entitled: On overexcitable children. The post begins:

Wilbur and Orville are circumnavigating the Ohio cornfield in their Flyer. Children from the nearby farms have run over to watch, point, and gawk. But their parents know better.

An amusing toy, nothing more. Any talk of these small, brittle, crash-prone devices ferrying passengers across continents is obvious moonshine. One doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry that anyone could be so gullible.

Or if they were useful, then mostly for espionage and dropping bombs. They’re a negative contribution to the world, made by autistic nerds heedless of the dangers.

And so forth. He’s obviously using Wilbur and Orville as figures for the developers of AI and their toy as a figure for current devices.

The ensuing discussion was variously interesting, even exiting, mediocre and boring, and pointless, as such things are on the web tubes. But the good stuff makes it worthwhile for me to follow along and occasionally throw in my 2¢. Here’s a nickel’s worth.

General intelligence

@Scott #101: You observe:

On the other hand, with GPT, the world has just witnessed a striking empirical confirmation that, as you train up a language model, countless different abilities (coding, logic puzzles, math problems, language translation…) emerge around the same time, without having to be explicitly programmed. Doesn’t this support the idea that there is such a thing as “general intelligence” that continues to make sense for non-human entities?

I’m going to go all-out weasel and say, I don’t know what it does.

One problem is that “intelligence” isn’t just a word that means “can do a lot of cognitive stuff.” At some point in the last 100 years or so it has become surrounded by a quasi-mystical aura that gets in the way. Saying that “as we scale up GPTs they become more capable” doesn’t have quite the same oomph that “as we scale up GPTs they become more intelligent” does.

We know right now that GPT-3 to 4 can do a lot more stuff at a pretty high level than any human being can do. We’ve got other more specialized systems that can do a few things – play chess, Go, predict protein folding, design a control regime for plasma containment – better than any human can. For that matter, we’ve long had computers that can do arithmetic way better than any humans. We think nothing of that because it’s merely routine and long has been. But things were trickier before the adoption of the Arabic notation.

Getting back to the GPTs, are there any specialized cognitive tasks they can do better than the best human? I don’t know off hand, I’m just asking. But I suppose that’s what the discussion is about, better than the best human. What if GPT-X turns out to prove one of those theorems you’re interested in? What then? But what if that’s the only thing it does better than the best human, but in many other areas it’s better than GPT-4, but not up to merely superior (as opposed to the best) human performance? What then? I don’t know.

And I’m having trouble keeping track of my line of thought. Oh, OK, so GPT-4 knows lots more stuff than any one human. But it also messes up in simple ways. Given that it has some visual capabilities, I wonder if it would go “off the reservation” when confronted with The Towers of Warsaw* in the hilarious way that ChatGPT did? That’s a digression. Even within its range of capabilities, though, GPT-4 hallucinates. What are we to make of that?

What I make of it is that it’s a very difficult problem. I’m guessing that Gary Marcus would say that to solve the problem you need a world model. OK. But how do you keep the world model accurate and up-to-date? That, it seems to me, is a difficult problem for humans, very difficult. As far as I can tell, we deal with the problem by constantly communicating with one another on all sorts of things at all sorts of levels of sophistication.

Let me take another stab at it.

Given the interests of the people who comment here, examples of Ultimate Problems tend to be drawn from science and math. While I’ve got an educated person’s interest in those things, I’m driven by curiosity about other things. While I’ve got a general interest in language and the mind, I’m particularly interest in literature and, above all else, one poem in particular, Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan.” Why that poem?

Because I discovered that, by treating line-end punctuation like nested parentheses in a Lisp expression, the poem is structured like a pair of matryoshka dolls. The poem has two parts, the first twice as long as the second. Each of them is divided into three, the middle is in turn divided into three, and once more, divided into three. All other divisions are binary. And the last line of the first part turns up in the structural center of the second part. So: line 36, “A stately pleasure-dome with caves of ice!”, line 47: “That sunny dome! those caves of ice!”

The whole thing smelled like computation. But computation of what, and how? That’s what drove me to computational linguistics, which I found very interesting. But it didn’t solve my problem. So I’ve been working on that off and on ever since. Oh, I’ve spent a lot of time on other things, a lot of time, but I still check in with “Kubla Khan” every now and then.

I took another look last week (you'll find diagrams at the link that make this is lot clearer). Between vector semantics and in-context learning I’ve made a bit more progress. Who knows, maybe GPT-X will be able to tell me what’s going on. And if it can tell me that, it’ll be able to tell us all a lot more about the human mind and about language.

Short of that, it would be nice to have a GPT, or some other LLM, that’s able to examine a literary text and tell me whether or not it exhibits ring-composition, which is generally depicted like this:

A, B, C...X...C’, B’, A’

It’s an obscure and all-but forgotten topic in literary studies, more prominent among classicists and Biblical scholars. I learned about it from the late Mary Douglas, an important British anthropologist who got knighted, or whatever it is called for women, in recognition of her general work in anthropology. The two parts of “Kubla Khan” exhibit that form. But so do many other texts, like Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Obama’s Eulogy for Clementa Pinckney, or, of all things, Pulp Fiction, perhaps Shakespeare’s Hamlet as well. Figuring that out is not rocket science. But it’s tricky and tedious.

I’m afraid I’ve strayed rather far afield, Scott. But that’s more or less how I think about “intelligence” or whatever the heck it is. My interest in these matters seems to be dominated by a search for mechanisms, like those in literary texts. Thus, while I’m willing to take ChatGPT’s performance at face value – and believe there’s more coming down the pike, I really want to know how it works. That’s a far more compelling issue that whatever the heck intelligence is. [BTW, the Chatster can tell stories exhibiting ring-composition. That’s one kind of skill, but entirely different from being able to analyze and identify ring-composition in texts (or movies).]

*A variant of The Towers of Hanoi. The classic version is posed with three pegs and five graduated rings. Back in the early 70s some wise guys at Carnegie-Mellon posed a variant with five pegs and three rings.

Scale & intelligence

Scott, let me take another crack at the question you posed in #101, if I may paraphrase: What do we make of the fact that all sorts of capabilities just keep showing up in GPTs without any explicit programming? First, let’s put on the table the work the Anthropic people have done on In-context Learning and Induction Heads. They are circuits that emerge at a certainly (relatively early) point during training and seem to be capable of copying a sequence of tokens, completing a sequence, even pattern matching. What can you do with general pattern matching? Lots of things.

What follows is hardly a rigorous argument, but it’s a place to start. Consider the idea of a tree, by which I mean a kind of plant, not a mathematical object. Though trees are physical objects, they are conceptually abstract. No one ever saw a generic tree. What you see are individual examples of maple trees, or palm trees, or pine trees. Maples, palms, and pines appear quite different. Why would anyone ever think of them as the same kind of thing? Well, consider them in the context of bushes and shrubs, grasses, and flowers. In that context, their size would bring them together in similarity space, just as bushes and shrubs would have their region, grasses would have theirs, flowers would have theirs, and we’ll have to have a region for vines as well. So now we have trees, and bushes, etc. and what are they? They’re all plants. As such, they are distinguished from animals.

So now we have all these abstract or general categories for plants and animals. Let’s take the whole abstraction process up a level and talk about species and genera and biological taxonomy in general. Perhaps we go up another level of abstraction from there and arrive at graph theory.

But to keep climbing to these higher levels of abstraction, we need more and more examples to deal with, and more compute to make all the comparisons and sort things out. And GPTs, of course, aren’t dealing with patterns over physical objects. They’re dealing with patterns over tokens. But those tokens encode all kinds of statements about physical and other kinds of objects. So it is not deeply surprising to me that when you through enough compute at enough texts, all sorts of interesting capabilities show up. I’m not saying or implying that I understand how this works. I don’t. But it doesn’t violate my sense of how the world works.

Now, Jean Piaget, the great developmental psychologist, had this idea of reflective abstraction. He’s the one who elaborated on the idea that cognitive development happens in stages during a child’s life. Children aren’t just learning more and more facts. They’re developing more sophisticated ways of thinking. Thinking processes at a higher level take as their objects, processes at a lower level. He was unclear on just how this works & I’m not sure anyone has tried to figure it out – but then I haven’t looked into the stuff in a while. The general idea is simply that more sophisticated levels of thinking are built on lower-level processes. And, while he was mostly interested in child development, he also applied the idea to the cultural development of ideas.

So maybe one thing we’re seeing as GPTs scale up is phase changes in capability as we use more compute and more examples. The basic architecture remains the same, but significant jumps in capacity allow for new capabilities. To return to maple tree and cows, it’s one thing to encompass more plants and animals in the system. But maybe he takes a major leap in compute to be able to abstract over that whole system and come up with the ideas of family, genus, species and so forth.

Setting that aside, Richard Hanania has just done a podcast with Robin Hanson. In the section on Intelligence and “Betterness” Hanson observes:

So the issue is the kind of meaning behind various abstractions we use. So abstractions are powerful. We use abstractions to organize the world, and abstractions embody similarities between the things out there. And we care about our abstractions, and which pool we use.

But for some abstractions, they well summarize our ambitions and our hopes, but they don’t necessarily correspond to a thing out there, where there’s a knob on them you can turn and change things. So it’s important to distinguish which of our abstractions correspond to things that we can have more direct influence over, and which abstractions are just abstractions about our view of the world and our desires about the world. So that’s the key distinction here. We could talk about a good world and a happy world and a nice world, but there isn’t a knob in the world to turn out and make the world nicer in some sense.

In the next two sections (Knowledge Hierarchy and Innovation, The History of Economic Growth) Hanson tosses out some ideas about abstraction that are useful in thinking about these matters. Later:

And now we have this parameter intelligence, and the question is, what’s that? How does that fit in with all these other parameters? We don’t usually use intelligence, say, as a measure of a country or a measure of a firm. We use wealth or other parameters. If it’s equivalent, then fine. If it’s something separate then we want to go, “Well, what is that exactly?”

For an individual, we have this measure of intelligence for an individual in the sense that there’s a correlation across mental tasks and which ones they can do better. And then the question is, what’s the cause of that correlation? One theory is that some people’s brains just trigger faster, and if I got a brain that triggers faster, it can just think faster and then overall it can do more.

There are other theories, but there are ways to cash out, what is it that makes one person smarter than another? Maybe they just have a bigger brain. That’s one of the stories, a brain that triggers faster. Maybe a brain with certain modules that are more emphasized than others. Then that’s a story of the particular features of that brain, that makes it be able to do many more tasks.

And so on.

Saturday, April 1, 2023

Ramble into Spring with AI doom, deep learning vs. cultural evolution, and meaning in LLMs and literary texts

Obviously I’ve been much taken with ChatGPT and the issues it raises. Here’s some quick thoughts on some of them.

Why I’m skeptical of AI Doom

This issue, however, is not specifically about ChatGPT, but is something I think about a lot, under the heading of rogue AI, and is on my mind as a result of the hue and cry raised in the past week over the moratorium letter and Yudkowsky’s over-the-top piece in Time.

In the first place, the whole mythology of AI existential risk tends to be unmoored from technological plausibility, relying as it does on ideas of AGI and super-intelligence, which aren’t coherent. No one has any idea about how those things might work. Steven Pinker has made such arguments, as has Rodney Brooks, which I’ve linked here and there at New Savanna.

Secondly, millennial cults are a dime a dozen, and AI doom, on the face of it, acts like a millennial cult. The organizing belief, after all, is about the end of the world. Moreover, the believers are somewhat insular in their use of information – here I’m thinking particularly of LessWrong. That is to say, we’ve seen this kind of behavior before, why should this iteration be any more credible than others? Do we have good reason to believe that science fiction is a more reliable guide to the end of the world than Biblical prophesy?

AIs are strange, inanimate devices that have linguistic capabilities. Two centuries ago steam locomotives were strange in a similar way, inanimate devices capable of autonomous movement in a world where that capacity had previously been confined to animals and humans. This oddness makes it difficult to figure out how to deal with them. [David Hays and I wrote about this in The Evolution of Cognition (1990).]

Moreover, I have a somewhat different view of the future, that it will involve new modes of thought. This is implied by the evolution of cognition paper. I don’t need a belief in super-intelligence in order to imagine a future that is radically different from the present.

Is the culture of deep learning a drag on cultural evolution?

I hadn’t thought of this before. It goes like this: Nothing has been so intellectually fruitful over the last 3/4s of a century as the cross fertilization between computation, on the one hand, and the study of the mind and nervous system on the other. To the extent that the culture of deep learning opposes – or is at best indifferent to – understanding how artificial neural network models work, it works against this intellectual cross fertilization.

Meaning in LLMs and literary texts

Intentionalists have argued that the natural language texts produced by computers cannot have meaning because computers lack intention – a problem I’ve thought about from time to time, most recently in the post, MORE on the issue of meaning in large language models (LLMs). Back in the 1960s and 1970s literary critics faced a similar problem with respect to literary text. The problem wasn’t whether or not they are meaningful, of course they are, but about the determination of that meaning through the process of interpretation. Many argued that authorial intention was the touchstone of meaning and that the aim of interpretation was to recover authorial intention. The deconstructionists argued that authorial intention was, at best, inaccessible.

In a famous essay, “Form and Intent in the American New Criticism,” (collected in Blindness and Insight) de Man argued:

“Intent” is seen, by analogy with a physical model, as a transfer of a psychic or mental content that exists in the mind of the poet to the mind of a reader, somewhat as one would pour wine from a jar into a glass. A certain content has to be transferred elsewhere, and the energy necessary to effect the transfer has to come from an outside source called intention.

When someone reads a literary text, it is their intention that animates the word forms, giving them meaning, not the author’s. 

Can we apply similar reasoning to texts from LLMs? Is it practical matter of how we are to interact and use these devices? Is it an engineering question about how they work? Or is it a metaphysical question about what kind of thing they are, in the universe at large, with all its various kinds of things?

Rationalization: Propositional reconstruction of gestalts

David Hays and I talked of the distinction between rationalizations and the ‘true’ abstractions, but never really wrote about it. It was, however, on our minds in the metaphor paper, Metaphor, Recognition, and Neural Process (1987), and the brain paper (at the end), Principles and Development of Natural Intelligence (1988). The idea is that the ‘true’ abstraction is a gestalt over a wide range of material, and the rationalization is a propositional reconstruction. of it. It is not at all clear to me that such a process is possible in LLMs, or any other device proposed in artificial intelligence, whether current or in the past. 

More later. Perhaps.

Wednesday, December 28, 2022

Felix Culpa [the Fortunate Fall] – To justify the ways of God to man [ChatGPT, theologian]

While I was quizzing ChatGPT on its knowledge of basic legal concepts – ChatGPT the legal beagle: Concepts, Citizens United, Constitutional Interpretation – I decided, Why not? Let’s head toward Shakespeare – which turned out to be a disaster, did it not? So I decided to ease into it by way of an interesting bit of medieval doctrine, The Fortunate Fall, felix culpa (NOT Felix catus). Why felix culpa? Because, I argued way back in the ancient days, that’s the pattern that underlies that Shakespeare sonnet we’re stalking.

Let’s get to it!

* * * * *

Moving away from the law, what about Felix Culpa?

Felix culpa is a Latin phrase that means "happy fault" or "fortunate fall." In Christian theology, it refers to the belief that the fall of man in the Garden of Eden, as described in the Bible, was actually a good thing because it allowed for the possibility of salvation and redemption.

According to this belief, God allowed Adam and Eve to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, despite having warned them not to do so, in order to create the opportunity for humanity to be saved through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This belief is based on the idea that the fall of man was necessary for the fulfillment of God's plan for the salvation of humanity.

The phrase "felix culpa" is often used to refer to the idea that something that seems like a misfortune or an obstacle can actually be a blessing in disguise, as it can lead to unexpected opportunities or positive outcomes. This concept is similar to the idea of "making lemonade out of lemons," which suggests that it is possible to find value or benefit in difficult or adverse situations.

Is the idea of Felix Culpa relevant to Milton’s Paradise Lost?

Yes, the idea of felix culpa plays a significant role in John Milton's epic poem Paradise Lost. In the poem, Milton explores the biblical story of the fall of man, as described in the book of Genesis, and presents his own interpretation of the events and their significance.

Milton's portrayal of the fall of man in Paradise Lost is rooted in the idea of felix culpa. According to Milton, the fall was not a tragic event but rather a necessary step in the fulfillment of God's plan for humanity. In Milton's view, the fall allowed for the possibility of redemption and salvation through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and it ultimately led to the triumph of good over evil.

Throughout the poem, Milton presents the fall of man as a complex and nuanced event that has both positive and negative consequences. On the one hand, the fall brings suffering and death into the world, and it causes humanity to be separated from God. On the other hand, the fall also gives humanity the freedom to choose between good and evil, and it allows for the possibility of redemption and salvation.

In this way, Milton's portrayal of the fall in Paradise Lost reflects the idea of felix culpa, as he presents the fall as a "happy fault" that ultimately leads to a greater good.

What does it mean "to justify the ways of God to men?"

"To justify the ways of God to men" is a phrase that appears in John Milton's epic poem Paradise Lost, in which the narrator (the archangel Michael) tells the story of the fall of man and the biblical account of the creation of the world. The phrase appears in the following lines:

"To justify the ways of God to men
Doth God Himself in human form display,
Revealing His own Son, and that His Son
By His own choice subjected to the law
Which he Himself had made."

In this passage, the phrase "to justify the ways of God to men" refers to the idea of explaining or making sense of God's actions or decisions to human beings. The phrase suggests that God's ways are sometimes difficult for humans to understand or comprehend, and that it is necessary for God to reveal Himself and His intentions in order to help humans understand and accept them.

The phrase has become famous and is often quoted or referred to as a way of expressing the idea that it can be challenging for humans to understand or reconcile the actions or decisions of a higher power, especially when they seem difficult or mysterious. It is often used in discussions about religion, faith, and the relationship between humans and a higher power.

Tuesday, December 27, 2022

ChatGPT the legal beagle: Concepts, Citizens United, Constitutional Interpretation

Though I wasn’t looking for this when I started playing with ChatGPT on December 1st, it has turned out that I spent a lot of time exploring its capacity to deal with abstract concepts of a kind whose meaning is defined by patterns of other words, in particular, by stories. That’s an intellectual territory I know well, having spent a great deal of time exploring it in graduate school in the Ancient Days (the 1970s) in the computational linguistics work group led by David Hays – something I’ve discussed briefly in the post, Abstract concepts and metalingual definition: Does ChatGPT understand justice and charity?

Thus it is natural, I suppose, that I would head for home territory in my first major “interrogation” of ChatGPT. Steven Spielberg’s Jaws is a movie, I am trained in interpreting movies – actually, I was trained in interpreting literary texts, but movies are texts as well, no? – so I put ChatGPT through its paces in an interpretation of Jaws. I did more of that, with Spielberg’s A.I. Artificial Intelligence and with Tezuka’s Astro Boy stories.

So it’s natural that I would think of the law. Laws are texts. Trials are transcribed into texts. Judges and juries are asked to apply the law, a body of abstract concepts, to particular cases, cases they know through evidence presented to them, often in the form of stories.

In this post I present transcripts of three recent sessions I had with ChatGPT. The first considered a few general concepts. The second consists of a single issue involving Citizens United, the distinction between natural and juristic persons. The third session concerned Constitutional interpretation.

Session of 12.25.22: Legal Concepts

In law, what is a juristic person? Give me a definition and some examples.

A juristic person, also known as a "legal person" or "artificial person," is a non-human entity that is treated as a person in the eyes of the law. This means that the law recognizes the entity as having certain rights and responsibilities that are similar to those of a natural person (a human being).

Examples of juristic persons include:

  • Corporations: A corporation is a business entity that is legally separate from its owners (known as shareholders). This means that the corporation can enter into contracts, own property, and incur debts in its own name.
  • Limited liability companies (LLCs): An LLC is a business entity that combines elements of both a corporation and a partnership. Like a corporation, an LLC is a separate legal entity from its owners (known as members), and it can enter into contracts and own property in its own name.
  • Nonprofit organizations: Nonprofit organizations, such as charitable foundations or religious institutions, are often treated as juristic persons under the law. This allows them to enter into contracts and own property in their own name, as well as to receive tax-exempt status.
  • Governments: Governments, including local, state, and federal governments, are often treated as juristic persons under the law. This allows them to enter into contracts, own property, and exercise certain powers and duties in their own name.
  • Trusts: A trust is a legal arrangement in which one or more persons (called trustees) hold property on behalf of one or more beneficiaries. The trust itself is often treated as a juristic person, which allows it to own property and enter into contracts in its own name.
  • Can officers of a corporation be held personally liable for acts committed by the corporation?

    In general, officers of a corporation are not personally liable for the debts or obligations of the corporation. This is because a corporation is a separate legal entity from its owners and officers, and the law generally treats the corporation as being responsible for its own actions and liabilities.

    However, there are certain situations in which the personal liability of corporate officers may be imposed. For example:

  • Personal guarantees: If an officer of a corporation personally guarantees a debt or obligation of the corporation, he or she may be held personally liable for that debt or obligation if the corporation is unable to pay.
  • Fraud or wrongdoing: If an officer of a corporation engages in fraud or other wrongdoing, he or she may be held personally liable for the damages caused by that conduct. This can include situations where the officer has acted outside the scope of his or her authority or has breached a fiduciary duty owed to the corporation or its shareholders.
  • Piercing the corporate veil: In some cases, a court may "pierce the corporate veil" and hold the owners or officers of a corporation personally liable for the debts or obligations of the corporation. This is typically done when the corporation has not been operated as a separate legal entity (for example, if the owners or officers have commingled personal and corporate assets or have not kept proper corporate records).
  • It is worth noting that the liability of corporate officers can vary from jurisdiction to jurisdiction. In some cases, the laws of the state in which the corporation is incorporated may govern the liability of its officers, while in other cases the laws of the state where the corporation does business may apply.

    What can you tell me about when the idea of a corporation arose in Western history? The concept of a corporation as a separate legal entity from its owners has a long history in Western legal traditions.

    One of the earliest forms of the corporation was the Roman "collegium," which was a group of individuals who were united for a common purpose, such as a trade guild or religious association. The Roman concept of the collegium was later adopted and developed in medieval Europe, where it was used to create associations such as town guilds and religious orders.

    The modern corporation, as we know it today, began to take shape in the 16th and 17th centuries. During this time, European monarchs and governments began to grant charters to private companies that were formed to engage in trade or exploration. These charters granted the companies certain privileges and protections, such as the right to own property and enter into contracts, and treated the companies as separate legal entities from their owners.

    In the United States, the first corporations were chartered by the individual states. The first corporate charter was granted by the state of Massachusetts in 1629 to the Massachusetts Bay Company, which was formed to engage in trade and colonization in the New World. Over time, the concept of the corporation spread and was adopted by other countries around the world.

    What can you tell me about the legal organization of the Catholic Church in the Middle Ages? For example, who owned church property, the local bishop?

    In the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church was a major landowner and had a complex legal organization. The church's property and assets were typically held by religious orders, such as monasteries or convents, or by individual churches or cathedrals. These entities were often treated as juristic persons, which meant that they were recognized as having certain rights and responsibilities under the law.

    The local bishop was responsible for the administration and oversight of the church's property and assets within his diocese (a geographic region comprising a group of parishes). However, the ultimate ownership of church property was typically vested in the pope or the Holy See (the central governing body of the Catholic Church).

    The Catholic Church also had a system of canon law, which was a separate legal system that applied to matters within the church. Canon law dealt with a wide range of issues, including the governance of the church, the conduct of clergy, and the regulation of religious orders. Canon law was administered by church courts, which were headed by bishops and other church officials.

    In addition to its legal organization, the Catholic Church also played a significant role in the political and social life of medieval Europe. The church was often a major landowner and had significant influence over the rulers and governments of the time. As a result, the legal organization of the church was closely intertwined with the broader legal and political landscape of the period.

    What is meant by habeus corpus?

    Habeas corpus is a legal principle that requires a court to review the lawfulness of a person's detention and to order the release of the person if the detention is found to be unlawful. The writ of habeas corpus, also known as the "great writ," is a court order that requires a person who is being detained to be brought before a court or judge so that the court can determine whether the detention is lawful.

    The principle of habeas corpus is designed to protect individuals from arbitrary or unlawful detention by the government. It allows individuals who are being detained to challenge their detention in court and to have their case reviewed by an independent judicial authority.

    The writ of habeas corpus has a long history and has played an important role in protecting the rights of individuals throughout the world. It is considered a fundamental principle of the rule of law and is protected by various international human rights instruments.

    In the United States, the writ of habeas corpus is protected by the Constitution, which states that "The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it." This means that, in most cases, the government cannot lawfully detain an individual without judicial review and cannot suspend the writ of habeas corpus without just cause.

    Friday, December 16, 2022

    Abstract concepts and metalingual definition: Does ChatGPT understand justice and charity?

    Our conceptual worlds are filled with abstract concepts, such as truth, love, beauty, and justice. Such concepts cannot be defined in physical terms. You can’t see them, taste them, hear them, touch them, or smell them. And yet for human society they are as real as sticks and stones, thunder and lightning, a horse, a sparrow, cherry blossoms, or Mt. Fuji.

    We can learn about abstractions through stories that exhibit them. Rene Girard’s concepts of mimetic desire and of sacrifice are abstract. They characterize patterns of action that people take in their interactions with one another. Whether he realized it or not – probably not – Steven Spielberg showed us those concepts in Jaws. And I demonstrated that ChatGPT was able to recognize them, to interpret the film as exhibiting them: Conversing with ChatGPT about Jaws, Mimetic Desire, and Sacrifice.

    * * * * *

    I begin this post by examining ChatGPT’s ability to work with the concept of justice. First I ask it to define justice, and then to say a little about how Plato treated it in The Republic. Then we see how Chat deals with justice in stories, creating stories about justice, but also recognizing justice, or its lack, in stories. I then introduce Chomsky’s well-known, albeit somewhat obscure, distinction between competence and performance. Next, another example, charity, which I use to set-up a discussion of semantic or cognitive networks, a formalism from the now ‘classic’ symbolic AI and computational linguistics from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. Would that notation be suitable for characterizing some (non-trivial) aspect of ChatGPT’s behavioral competence? I conclude by tempting the reader – that’s you – to consider the implications, suggesting that Neil Stephenson’s The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illusttrated Primer might be a useful source of insight.

    What is justice?

    Let’s start by asking ChatGPT to define justice, which it does. I then asked about Plato’s treatment of justice in The Republic.

    What is justice?

    Justice is the concept of fairness and equality. In the legal context, it refers to the fair and proper administration of laws. In a broader sense, justice is the ideal state in which individuals are treated equally and without prejudice, and in which the laws and institutions of society are fair and just. It is often considered to be one of the fundamental principles of society, and it is an important concept in many ethical and philosophical systems.

    What does Plato say about justice in The Republic.

    In Plato's dialogue The Republic, the character of Socrates discusses the concept of justice with several other characters. Plato's view of justice is closely tied to his concept of the ideal state, in which individuals are divided into different classes based on their natural abilities and inclinations. According to Plato, the just state is one in which each individual performs the function for which they are best suited, and in which the rulers are those who are most wise and just.

    Socrates argues that justice is the quality that allows individuals to perform their proper functions and to live a good life. He also argues that justice is necessary for the health and stability of the state, and that a just state is one in which everyone works together for the common good. Furthermore, Plato's Socrates asserts that justice is an inherent virtue that is present in the soul of every individual, and that it can be nurtured and developed through education and experience.

    Overall, Plato's view of justice is focused on the idea that individuals should be guided by reason and that they should strive to live in harmony with one another and with the laws of the state. He believes that justice is essential for the well-being of both individuals and society as a whole.

    On the response to the Plato prompt, though I don’t actually know this, I assume that ChatGPT is summarizing and/or paraphrasing material that it found on the web as this is perhaps the central topic of discussion about The Republic. That is to imply, ChatGPT did not arrive at those three paragraphs by applying a definition of justice directly to Plato’s text. And that is fine with me. Competent summary and paraphrase are worthwhile intellectual tasks.

    I tweeted this interaction to a friend of mine, John Holbo, who teaches philosophy at the National University of Singapore. Working with Beth Waring as translator, he’s produced Reason and Persuasion: Three Dialogues By Plato: Euthyphro, Meno, Republic Book I. Here’s what he said:

    The next day, using a story as a prompt

    The next day I decided to try something different. In the previous session I’d started by prompting ChatGPT with an abstract concept, justice, and then asked him to expand upon that. Let’s see if we can work it in the opposite direction, starting with a story about injustice and asking if ChatGPT can identify it as such, and the produce a new story in which justice is served.

    I used a story that Chat had produced in an earlier session. While Chat keeps track of everything that happens within a session, it doesn’t retain what happened in previous sessions – though I’m pretty sure that OpenAI is keeping records of all these interactions so that it can do something or other with them. So, Chat is facing this new prompt with a properly empty “mind.”

    Notice that the first sentence in my prompt is ungrammatical. That was an accident. ChatGPT was unfazed.

    In the following story, do we justice being served?

    Once upon a time, in a busy city, there was a fire that broke out in a tall office building. People were panicking and trying to escape, but the fire was spreading quickly and the exits were blocked.

    Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a brave and selfless hero stepped forward to save the day. He bravely fought his way through the flames and smoke, risking his own life to rescue as many people as he could.

    Despite the danger, the hero managed to lead many people to safety, and the fire department arrived just in time to put out the blaze. Thanks to the hero's quick thinking and bravery, no lives were lost.

    But instead of thanking the hero and giving him the recognition he deserved, the media and the public focused on the wealthy CEO of the company who was inside the building at the time of the fire. They praised him for being "brave" and "selfless," despite the fact that he had done nothing to help anyone.

    The hero was heartbroken and disillusioned by the lack of gratitude and fairness. He had risked his life to save others, and yet he was being ignored and cheated out of the fame and recognition he deserved.

    But despite the unfairness of it all, the hero held his head high and continued to be a shining example of courage and selflessness. He knew that the true reward for his actions was not fame or recognition, but the satisfaction of knowing that he had made a difference and saved lives.

    Based on the story, it does not seem that justice is being served. The hero performed a selfless and courageous act by risking his own life to save others, but instead of being recognized and thanked for his actions, he was ignored and overshadowed by the media and public's focus on the wealthy CEO, who did not do anything to help. This is not fair to the hero, as he deserves to be recognized and celebrated for his bravery and the difference he made. The hero's true reward of knowing that he saved lives is important, but it is not a substitute for the recognition and appreciation that he deserves.

    What is justice?

    Justice is the principle of fairness and the concept of moral rightness. It refers to the fair treatment of individuals and the upholding of their rights and duties within a society. In legal terms, justice refers to the fair and impartial administration of the law, where all individuals are treated equally under the law and have the right to a fair and unbiased legal process.

    Justice is an important concept in many societies, as it helps to ensure that individuals are treated fairly and with respect, and that there is a sense of balance and fairness in the way that laws and rules are enforced. It is often considered to be a fundamental principle of a just and fair society, and it is often upheld through the legal system and other institutions that are responsible for promoting and enforcing justice.

    Sunday, July 10, 2022

    Picasso, the bull, and visual abstraction

    Wednesday, June 22, 2022

    Some Post-Publication Thoughts on the RNA Primer [Design for a Mind]

    I’m talking about:

    Relational Nets Over Attractors, A Primer: Part 1, Design for a Mind, https://www.academia.edu/81911617/Relational_Nets_Over_Attractors_A_Primer_Part_1_Design_for_a_Mind

    While I’ve got some ideas about what might go into Part 2, some of which I’ve mentioned in a Coda to Part 1, I have no definite plans to go to work on it.

    What I’ve been thinking about is the scope of the piece. It’s not the first time I’ve written seriously about the brain. I’ve got a good bit of material in my book on music, Beethoven’s Anvil, and in several articles. The most important of those, by far, is the one David Hays and I published in 1988, Principles and Development of Natural Intelligence. That article is about the whole brain, developing five principles and relating them to: behavior, computational principle, neuroanatomy, phylogeny, and ontogeny.

    I bring that up three times in the primer. The first time is in the introduction, where I introduce Mirian Yevick’s work, which is the basis of our fourth principle (figural). Then I mention it in discussing language, the fifth principle (indexing). Finally I introduce the modal principle (first) while discussing types of minds in order to make that point that, while the primer is about the cortex, it does not assume that the cortex is somehow isolated or autonomous. On the contrary, activity in the cortex is affected by the whole brain, with the modal principle being the deepest example. For it is implemented in the reticular formation, which is the phylogenetically oldest part of the brain. And yet it affects, in a broad way, what areas of the cortex are active during any given stretch of time.

    So, the paper implies the action of the whole brain, not just the cortex. What does the primer add to what Hays and I did in Principles? It provides a way of thinking about how the cortex implements highly differentiated cognitive processes and, in particular, natural language semantics. And natural language semantics is the lever through which the mind develops abstract concepts and elaborates on them over the long-haul of cultural evolution. That’s what’s new in the primer.

    And that, it seems to me, “closes the space” on how the mind works, at least informally. The burden of working out how abstract concepts are developed will not, of course, fall directly on neural analysis. We’ll need other mechanisms for that. That’s why I introduced the relational network notation. That’s how we’re going to have to understand the mind’s construction of concepts. There is the logic inherent in the notation itself, and there are the implications of that logic for neurodynamics.

    On the one hand we have global neurodynamics, something Freeman talked about. But then we have the local neurodynamics of the cortical neurofunctional areas (NFAs). I am assuming that the the dynamics of each NFA have a measure of autonomy from both global dynamics and from adjacent NFAs. Otherwise it makes no sense to select them as units for analysis. Sure, each cortical NFA receives inputs from other cortical NFAs and sends outputs to them (to and from subcortical NFAs as well). But the activity with an NFA is dominated by signals passed between neurons within it.

    And then we have grand mal epileptic seizures, which often start locally in one hemisphere, but then engulf the entire brain. Local autonomy is lost. But then so is consciousness.

    More later.

    Monday, February 24, 2020

    Abstract words in prose fiction [#DH]

    Wednesday, August 28, 2019

    Abstraction: 1600-2012

    Wednesday, August 7, 2019

    The matrix of abstract thought

    The following paragraphs are from section 4.3 “The child is father to the man” in “The Evolution of Cognition” [1]:
    In general we assume that the growth of thinking and knowledge in individuals is epigenetic, that later mechanisms of thought are constructed from the materials made available by earlier mechanisms (Benzon and Hays 1988: 314-319). In particular we remain partial to the concept of stages pioneered by Jean Piaget (Piaget and Inhelder 1969). The abstractions one begins learning in adolescence are based on the more concrete structures of thought acquired earlier. The preadolescent matrix will vary from rank to rank.

    Let us begin by considering Rank 2. The child of Rank 2 parents will be exposed to the Rank 2 cultural environment of those parents. Much of that world will be as mysterious to the Rank 2 child as the world of Rank 1 adults is mysterious to the Rank 1 child. But, for example, the Rank 2 child can see his parents read and write, while the Rank 1 child cannot, for that is a mystery which doesn't exist in the Rank 1 world.

    Consider, specifically, the language to which a Rank 2 child is exposed. It will have a more deeply developed system of superordinate and subordinate categories, including categories such as plant and animal. The child may not have an immediate grasp of the conceptual structure underlying these categories—such ontological knowledge develops gradually (Keil 1979) — but he or she can learn to use those words correctly in many contexts and that knowledge will be a good foundation on which to construct the appropriate abstract justification for the categories. The conceptual environment of the Rank 2 child is thus significantly different from that of the Rank 1 child, and the difference is of the sort which will make it easier for the Rank 2 child to acquire the abstractions necessary for a Rank 2 adult.
    Consider the world of a very young child. In our culture (21st century America) the child will be playing with alphabet blocks before she can talk. She won’t understand the significance of those images, but she will be thoroughly familiar with them. Similarly, she will be familiar with simple picture books. This is laying a foundation, a matrix, that eases the way for reading and writing a few years later.

    My guess is that it will be difficult, though perhaps not impossible, for an adult of rank N to acquire ideas of rank N+1, certainly more difficult than raising a child to N+1 thought in a rank N+1 environment. Why? Because that rank N adult will not have a N+1 preadolescent matrix.

    This has some bearing on the difficulty of paradigm change (in Kuhn’s sense). Changing from one paradigm to another within a given rank will be easier than changing from a paradigm of rank N to one of rank N+1. How many of the cases considered by Kuhn involve rankshift between paradigms vs. change from one paradigm to another within rank? I’m guessing that most of them were rankshift changes. That’s what’s difficult, moving from one rank to another.

    * * * * *

    Here’s the last two paragraphs from “The Evolution of Cognition”:
    We expect childhood exposure to computing to have a similar effect. But we do not as yet see anything significant happening on a large scale. There may be computers in every primary school in the nation, and in a small percentage of homes, but children do not spend much time on these computers. And most, if not all, of the time they do spend is devoted to using the computer in the most superficial way, not in learning to program it. And that, programming, is where the major benefit lies. It is in programming that the child has to deal with control structure, the element which is new to Rank 4 thought.

    We know that children can learn to program, that they enjoy doing so, and that a suitable programming environment helps them to learn (Kay 1977, Pappert 1980). Seymour Pappert argues that programming allows children to master abstract concepts at an earlier age. In general it seems obvious to us that a generation of 20-year-olds who have been programming computers since they were 4 or 5 years old are going to think differently than we do. Most of what they have learned they will have learned from us. But they will have learned it in a different way. Their ontology will be different from ours. Concepts which tax our abilities may be routine for them, just as the calculus, which taxed the abilities of Leibniz and Newton, is routine for us. These children will have learned to learn Rank 4 concepts.
    How many of the people currently running the world – in government or private industry – grew up programming computers from a young age, before adolescence? Very few, I warrant, very few.

    * * * * *

    [1] William Benzon and David Hays, The Evolution of Cognition, Journal of Social and Biological Structures 13(4): 297-320, 1990, https://www.academia.edu/243486/The_Evolution_of_Cognition.

    Sunday, November 25, 2018

    The emergence of Rank 4 thought in evolutionary biology, with some reflections on the reconstruction of the study of literature in our current era

    A week ago I ran up a post, Innovation, stagnation, and the construction of ideas and conceptual systems, where I argued that conceptual exhaustion is one reason for the intellectual and economic stagnation economists have been observing for years. By conceptual exhaustion I mean that the systems of thought employed here, there, and perhaps everywhere (by now) no longer have anything new to tell us, no really new opportunities for invention and development. At this point it’s all about dotting i’s and crossing t’s. I offered that suggestion in the context of the theory of cognitive development that David Hays and I began with out paper, “The Evolution of Cognition” [1].

    Such stagnation has been evident in academic literary criticism for some time now. I saw it two or three decades ago, at least, and the profession has more or less seen it for a decade or so. I have a few things to say about that in the last section, but I want to preface that with some observations about evolutionary biology in the penultimate section. That’s important because evolutionary biology was built on careful naturalistic description and that, naturalistic description, is what I think literary criticism must do. Before I do either, however, I want to say a few words about the general model Hays and I developed.

    Cognitive rank

    The idea is simple enough. Over the long course of human history new modes of thought emerge. These modes of thinking are grounded in very basic ‘information processing’ technologies – for want of a better generic term.

    This is the scheme Hays and I developed and set forth in that initial paper:


    Process
    Mechanism
    Medium
    Rank 1
    Abstraction
    Metaphor
    Speech
    Rank 2
    Rationalization
    Metalingual Definition
    Writing
    Rank 3
    Theory
    Algorithm
    Calculation
    Rank 4
    Model
    Control
    Computation

    By process we mean a general mode of thought and by mechanism we mean a particular conceptual device characteristic of that method. The medium is the external physical matrix in/on which the mechanism operates while enacting the general thought process. The emergence of speech and writing are widely recognized as important ‘break points’ or ‘singularities’ in cultural history. Where we have calculation the printing press is more commonly recognized but, regardless, the early modern era (aka Renaissance) is widely recognized as a major watershed. As is the late 19th and early 20th century, where we place computation. That is to say, the historical eras we recognize are not of our making; others recognize them as well.[2] Our contribution is to suggest/align specific cognitive mechanisms with those eras.  

    Evolutionary biology as Rank 4 thought 

    Hays and I argued that starting around the turn of the 20th century culture began
    evolving toward a new rank and that most of the intellectual and artistic displacement we are seeing reflects these growing pains. This new cognitive rank, Rank 4, has its origins in two developments in late nineteenth century thought: the creation of formal systems of logic and metamathematics and the emergence of non- mechanistic science.
    We then went on to assert:
    The new scientific style was forced further and further from a mechanistic universe by hard facts of the most intransigent and nonmechanistic sort. Thermodynamics provides the prototype, with biology (evolution) right behind (Prigogine and Stengers 1984). Perhaps the most deeply unnerving case, however, is that of quantum mechanics. That light behaved in some experiments like waves and in other experiments like particles was uncomfortable. To explain what they could see, physicists had to imagine a quantum world that they could not see: In principle and not in mere practice, the quantum world is not observable (Penrose 1989). Yet it provides a framework for mathematical derivations that explain, if that is the right word, the observations that can be made in our world. The fact of the matter is, Rank 4 science is as different from Rank 3 science as Rank 3 science is from Rank 2 natural philosophy. Sophisticated logic and mathematics become ever more necessary to thought. To admit the forces and the intangible particles without logic and mathematics to regulate explanation would be to readmit magic and superstition.
    Time itself comes under new scrutiny. It was only around the turn of the 20th century that motion was studied in enough detail so as to provide descriptions of complex irregular movement. Motion pictures, photographs showing the paths taken by hands performing a task, time-motion studies in factories, and paintings of a single subject at several stages of an action all turned up more or less together. This conceptual foregrounding of temporality, when combined with metamathematical and logical reasoning, led to the development of the abstract theory of computing between the world wars.
    The central work is Turing's explication of the algorithm. Rank 3 had concocted and used algorithms, but Turing explained what an algorithm was. In order to formulate the algorithm Turing had to think explicitly about the control of events in time. He described his machines as performing an action at a certain time; then another action at the next moment; and so on for as many consecutive moments and actions as necessary. His universal machine, a purely abstract construction, was an algorithm for the execution of any algorithm whatsoever. With it, he showed that no interesting formal system can be complete in the sense of furnishing a proof for every true statement.
    Let’s go back to biology. Darwin is the major thinker and his theory of evolution is his major thought.

    That thinking was grounded three centuries of careful naturalistic observation and description resulting in museums full of reference collections and volumes of verbal and graphic description. And this descriptive work went hand-in-hand with the classification system set forth by Carl Linnaeus in his Systema Naturae (1735). This would, in our terms, be the fruit of Rank 3 thinking.

    It was Darwin’s achievement to examine that record and see in it a causal mechanism at work, a non-teleological mechanism. And thus Darwin’s thinking was necessarily embedded in a conception of time (cf. the second paragraph in quotation). And he had to imagine some mechanism capable of producing the lineages one observes in the historical record. In general terms the mechanism is descent with modification (third paragraph). That, if you will, is his “algorithm”. I realize that, in fact, the term “evolutionary algorithm” is much in use in this context, though I’m not sure how useful it is. But one can see easily enough how it would arise.

    It would be three-quarters of a century from Darwin’s full-scale exposition of this theory to Turing’s explication of algorithms. Is it too much to assert that that explication was somehow implicit in Darwin’s thought? Perhaps so, perhaps so. But it is nonetheless useful to see a connection, however distant.