Thursday, March 24, 2011

The problem with science snobs

1. Science snobs expect you to fail.
2. Science snobs make pessimistic false assumptions.
3. Science snobs have no imagination.

It's no secret that crackpots are quickly dismissed without a "fair" evaluation of their work; nor should it be any other way. We crackpots kind of ruined it for ourselves, making it a chore for scientists to try to listen to us. Yet, regardless of blame, the science snobs have been ruined.

For example, if one claims "I will be the next Einstein" or "I will win a Nobel prize", those are treated as properties of a crackpot, and one's work is treated as pseudoscience. These statements should be independent of a crackpot's work. Science snobs are making a false assumption (another trait usually attributed to crackpots) in assuming that it means your work is valueless, just because you may overstate its value.

Contrast this with sports. If someone says, "I'm going to go to the olympics!", they are encouraged and their lofty goals are admired. In various sports, there are scouts who are looking out for undiscovered talent. When found, that talent is valued and nurtured. There are no crackpot scouts, whose job is to evaluate crackpot theories, find the hidden gems, and then nurture the talent (with scholarships to schools that provide various other perks). No one accepts crackpots as "young" talent with potential to be properly developed.

If a child says "I'm going to grow up to be the president!", would a science snob parent say "Statistically speaking, you are almost certainly not. It is far more likely that you will grow up to have a job that you despise, and you are almost certain to be miserable."?

That brings us to imagination, and unrealistic hope. Many science snobs don't believe in the power of positive thinking. They probably wouldn't believe in thinking at all, if there were not a scientific principle to say it was so. While others may consider things like "I think, therefore I am", a science snob would rather hold that "There is insufficient evidence to assume that I am at all." Yes, for most, claiming "I will win a Nobel prize" is crazy, but crazy wishful thinking is not necessarily a bad thing.

To wit: If I believe I will win a Nobel prize, and operate on that assumption, I will not be blocked by any mental barriers that tell me I won't. If I assume that I won't win one -- that I won't discover anything new, that I won't be great -- then I will not even waste my time trying. And if I don't even try, I most certainly will not succeed. If I don't believe I will discover something amazing, then I will assume that any potential discoveries I make are not amazing, and I won't bother exploring them. Not everyone who has an improbable goal will succeed, but those who succeed the most never let themselves be limited by probability of failure.

I'm not saying that any individual should assume that any other individual will be great; I'm saying that assuming that any given individual will not be great is just as incorrect. Further, I think it is a certainty that eventually, a crackpot will prove to be correct. It's rare, but it's happened before and it will happen again. And for that matter, I will do it. I will win a Nobel prize. I will be the next Einstein. This is not a fact; it is a goal. But I can work to make it a reality. To make an improbable goal a reality, one must balance unrealistic hope with practical realism, and possess both simultaneously.

In this, we crackpots might typically benefit with a little more realism. We must pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and transform our crackpot theories into "proper science", generally doing so by ourselves, before we will be appreciated. And that's fine. It is the price of greatness. The value of an idea isn't the idea itself, but in how it can change yourself and others. The work of making an idea valuable is difficult.

It's unfortunate that our many failures have led others to discourage us from trying.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

No time for elaboration

After more thought on black hole singularities being coordinate singularities (or if I'm using the term wrong, rather: singularities that disappear depending on where you view them from), I figure that the solution that makes the most sense is that, uh...

Say you're outside a black hole and that most of its mass is in the singularity, but not all of it is. As you pass the event horizon and approach the singularity, suppose that rather than the singularity disappearing, that more and more of its mass appears as "normal matter" outside the singularity, which itself becomes less massive. You could approach it "forever" as it expands spatially the closer you are to it, and more of its mass would expand out of it until you realize that you're surrounded by a universe that came from the "shrinking" singularity that you're still chasing.

In order for that to be possible, the mass distribution of a black hole cannot be uniform or homogeneous or whatever. There would not be a hard boundary between outside and inside it (other than the event horizon, which is a precise boundary but there is no physical wall of matter or energy there). It would be distributed along something that looks like f(r) = 1/r or 1/r2, with the density at 0 undefined (representing the singularity), and the density approaching infinity as r approaches 0.


Extrapolating this idea from black holes to all matter, we get the following conjecture:

- All mass is non-homogeneous in terms of energy or mass distribution.
- All mass has a singularity at its center.

Basically this would mean that the concentration of any distinct quantity of mass is greatest at its center, and tapers off to blend seamlessly into the surrounding nothingness, rather than there being a distinct boundary between mass and surrounding space. Depending on how you look at the mass, it could be that it has no size and 100% of its mass is contained in a singularity, or half of its mass is, or just a tiny fraction of its mass is contained in the singularity, yet that still represents infinite density for that small mass.



We can extrapolate further and imagine that any mass can be described as a distinct unit in the same way. On the smallest scale, all particles could be viewed as individual masses with individual singularities. On a larger scale: If you were far enough away or warped space in the right way, all of Earth could be viewed as a combined mass with most of its matter contained in one singularity at its center. If you were outside the universe, most of it would be in one singularity, with some of its mass outside the singularity (and each particle of that outside mass containing its own singularity).



Then since we're speculating without restraint anyway, why not conjecture that all fundamental forces are due to non-homogeneity of geometry, IE. curvature of spacetime. Just as large-scale curvature effects gravity, small-scale curvature may effect electromagnetism and/or nuclear force.



Thrown in there is the idea that any mass might be described as a particle, depending on how and from where you viewed it. Thus, particles might be defined as an observer-defined quantization of matter into individual indivisible components. Then, just as a universe might be fully contained in a singularity, or might "spill out" into something with size (eg. a black hole) and divisible mass, so too might an elementary particle be a singularity or a divisible mass, depending on how it is viewed.



A simplification of this idea might be:
- All mass results in space-time curvature (already accepted with general relativity?)
- The point of maximum curvature of any curve in spacetime is always a singularity. (There are no "gentle bumps" in spacetime.)

The problem with crackpots

1. Crackpots do not form cohesive groups.

It may seem on the surface that there is a "scientists vs the cranks" team deathmatch going on, but the cranks don't make a good team. Sure, if you have a crackpot idea, often it is only other crackpots who will try to accept it, but they probably won't understand it. The same problem that crackpots have with science, they will have with other crackpots. If they were adept at understanding complex ideas, they would take to science. Instead, they take some variable knowledge of science, apply a thick layer of interpretation and imagination, and come to their own understanding independent of the rest of the world's knowledge. The same is done with other crackpot theories. The same minimal understanding combined with maximal interpretation and imagination is applied, and one crackpot's crackpot theory becomes another crackpot's alternate crackpot theory.

Similarly, cranks tend to be poor at the other side of communication: not just understanding ideas but expressing their own ideas clearly. This may simply be due to a lack of experience with the language of accepted science; ignoring convention in theory coincides with ignored convention in verbal expression.

Trying to have crackpots collaborate is a situation where someone with some degree of misunderstanding of science and some degree of inability to communicate their ideas, shares an idea with someone else with an overstated understanding of scientific principles and a tendency to invent interpretations of what they learn. The former crackpot will express an idea that is not only poorly supported, but likely poorly expressed. The latter crackpot will treat as science the former's ideas: Either it is misunderstood and claimed to be something it is not, or it is misunderstood and claimed to be wrong. Meanwhile the first crackpot gets to see what dealing with crackpots is like for scientists: They don't get your idea, but that doesn't stop them from talking about their own interpretations or take on the idea.

As a team, the crackpots consist of individuals who are not team players.

2. Crackpots do not accept that their idea is wrong.

A key distinguishing point between scientists and crackpots is that only the former will follow the math, and allow it to change their understanding. Crackpots tend not to need math to "believe in" a theory. The importance of math is almost like a light bulb in your head, that has to be switched on, and seen before it can be believed... All it takes is once that you have an idea that seems so right that you're certain of it, but then you see that the math says something different, and then you realize that what the math says makes more sense -- only you were previously blind to the alternatives. If you never experience that, you may never know the amazing truth in it, and being told so by scientists is just like being told more science: "I'll just believe my own interpretation of it, thanks."

The problem is that if math is never used to show the validity of a crackpot theory, it will certainly never be used to show the fallacy of a crackpot theory. So, just as a theory that "makes sense" is never shown to be correct, a theory that doesn't make sense is never shown to be false. As a crackpot, I may realize a false assumption or come to an incorrect consequence of my theory, yet there's no math to back it up, so it forever "still might be true". There are other interpretations and even wilder speculation to get around any problem in logic.

It is almost as if the crackpot is waiting for final proof of either the truth or fallacy of their theory, which never comes, and as long as it never comes, they will continue believing in it.

3. Crackpots are delusional nuts.