A couple CEOs (of an electric car company and a bank) recently announced things like "There's an 80% chance that we're living in a computer simulation." I'm not even going to quote the story correctly or read it because it's nonsense! These are non-scientists making these claims, so it's no surprise that the claims are pseudoscience at best.
The problem with this type of claim is that it's not based on any evidence, but rather on the logically unsound conclusion that if something observed has similarities with something known, then the observed thing must be the same as the known thing. Similarly, atoms can be modelled as spheres around other spheres, just like star systems and galaxies etc. Therefore there is an 80% chance that star systems are the atoms of some larger world, because they're similar. A turtle's back looks a bit similar to the Earth, therefore there's an 80% chance that we live on a giant turtle. One of the only creative things we know of is humankind, therefore it must be that everything we don't understand the origin of has been created by a being that looks like us (ie. that we were created in its image). And: measurements of the universe have some quantum properties, similar to computers (which we understand more), therefore the entire universe must be a computer. The computer simulation hypothesis is not so different from the god delusion or from the plethora of crackpot theories that link any marginally similar phenomena ("my EtherParticles theory explains gravity because gravity restricts movement away from mass, just like trying to move through a dense soup of particles in the ether is predicted by me to restrict movement," etc. etc. etc. etc.)
If the universe is so certainly a computer simulation in some extra-universal world, then what is that world? Why would that world exist "in reality" if ours is so certainly simulated? Wouldn't it mean that it's nearly certain that that world is also a simulation in another world, and so on ad absurdum? And where is the evidence of any of that? There is exactly as much evidence of a turtle that the universe sits upon, as there is of a computer running us.
We must be careful to speak of what the evidence says, and not confuse that with what we imagine it to mean. Extra-universal turtles, universe simulators, alternate realities where the laws of physics are anything we can imagine, are all flights of fantasy. If you have a fantastic idea, and want to speak of it being real, you must find a way to test it. If a test tells you that the universe is similar to a computer simulation, that doesn't mean it is one. You must show that it can't be anything other than a simulation, if you want to be certain that it is. And, "I can't imagine anything else it could be," is not nearly adequate reasoning. In science, unknowns stay as unknowns until there is testable theory to say otherwise. Ruling out everything but what we think we understand, is unscientific and outdated by a few centuries.
What test has been proposed by these CEOs, that could indicate that the universe is a simulation? How do those tests rule out that it could be anything else?
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Cheating on the Turing Test
Continuing from an earlier post...
If a system merely mimics a human, but does so consistently, it may be called intelligent, because it demonstrates intelligent behaviour. You don't need to crack it open and see if it's actually really intelligent or just behaving so, just as we can't crack open a human to see if it's really intelligent or just behaving so.
Suppose that you have a machine with a human inside, and all the machine does is copy the human's behaviour. It behaves as a human, intelligently. The machine without the human is not intelligent, but the whole system is. For example, an old telephone with a human on one end can pass the Turing test, but the telephone on its own can't.
What happens if you have a machine that brainlessly copies or transmits a human's behaviour, but is first separated from the human before it demonstrates that behaviour? Such a thing might not pass a Turing test, but it might be made to behave as a human for as long as necessary, and could be made without intelligence at all, just a behaviour copier.
That would be a poor demonstration of artificial intelligence, and I think it's similar to what today's Turing test candidates are doing. The best Turing candidates that I'm aware of essentially access huge databases of existing human responses, and derive their responses from that. It would be like a machine with thousands of humans in it, brainlessly selecting from the humans' responses. Of course, to do that with AI it needs to be at least clever or sophisticated. But still, the behaviours the AI is demonstrating were copied from a human. They're human behaviours, with the human separated from the copying machine.
Therefore it would be pointless to say such a machine reliably acted as a human. It merely transmitted the actions of humans. I do not think that beating the Turing test that way has anything to do with machine intelligence.
On the other hand, whatever argument can be made against such a machine, can probably be made against a human. Humans are literally human-copying machines, and there's no way to say that it's impossible for a human to go through life without an original thought. One might be able to merely copy what has already been done. If one complains of a machine, "that's not enough to demonstrate true intelligence", the same can be said of a human.
If a system merely mimics a human, but does so consistently, it may be called intelligent, because it demonstrates intelligent behaviour. You don't need to crack it open and see if it's actually really intelligent or just behaving so, just as we can't crack open a human to see if it's really intelligent or just behaving so.
Suppose that you have a machine with a human inside, and all the machine does is copy the human's behaviour. It behaves as a human, intelligently. The machine without the human is not intelligent, but the whole system is. For example, an old telephone with a human on one end can pass the Turing test, but the telephone on its own can't.
What happens if you have a machine that brainlessly copies or transmits a human's behaviour, but is first separated from the human before it demonstrates that behaviour? Such a thing might not pass a Turing test, but it might be made to behave as a human for as long as necessary, and could be made without intelligence at all, just a behaviour copier.
That would be a poor demonstration of artificial intelligence, and I think it's similar to what today's Turing test candidates are doing. The best Turing candidates that I'm aware of essentially access huge databases of existing human responses, and derive their responses from that. It would be like a machine with thousands of humans in it, brainlessly selecting from the humans' responses. Of course, to do that with AI it needs to be at least clever or sophisticated. But still, the behaviours the AI is demonstrating were copied from a human. They're human behaviours, with the human separated from the copying machine.
Therefore it would be pointless to say such a machine reliably acted as a human. It merely transmitted the actions of humans. I do not think that beating the Turing test that way has anything to do with machine intelligence.
On the other hand, whatever argument can be made against such a machine, can probably be made against a human. Humans are literally human-copying machines, and there's no way to say that it's impossible for a human to go through life without an original thought. One might be able to merely copy what has already been done. If one complains of a machine, "that's not enough to demonstrate true intelligence", the same can be said of a human.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Conjecture: Atoms are not entities
Edit, 2.5 months later: Sometimes I don't care if I sound like a crackpot, other times I read what I wrote and cringe. I'm like a split-personality of crackpot and anti-crackpot... the latter says that writing like in this post can be fairly useless because too much of it is vague and over-general to the point that it does not effectively communicate an idea. It merely presents an idea and then rambles around it.
tl;dr: I disagree with the statements "Matter is made up of particles; matter is made up of waves." Instead I think "Matter has properties of particles and properties of waves." Same goes for light. The distinction is 1) That doesn't mean it is waves and particles, and 2) It need not have those properties all the time, in every way meaningful.
I still like the idea but the following post is content-free.
As of today, I do not believe in the existence of atoms apart from their measured properties. Specifically, I think that matter will exhibit particular properties when measured on a quantum scale, but not otherwise.
To avoid this degenerating into a purely philosophical idea, such as "nothing exists when it is not measured to exist", which probably can't be falsified, I'll qualify the idea. I think that matter can be measured to behave not as particles in certain cases, such as in macroscopic observations (everyday human interaction with most matter) [edit: this is an example of a uselessly vague idea. The macroscopic behavior of large bits of matter is consistent with it being made of particles, and there's no point to asking "yeah but what if it's not?", and no test, at least none that I've identified], interaction with light as a wave (a glass lens bends light as though it has smooth homogeneous surfaces rather than individual particles), and the behaviour of Bose-Einstein condensates (the "particles" of the matter seem to take up the entire space of the matter, and are I think not distinguishable from each other as particles).
I think that the mainstream view of this would be that matter exists as particles, that it always is made up of particles, and that those particles exhibit different behaviours depending on how they're observed. My view is that the particles are emergent and only show up as a consequence of the measurement, and are not actually there otherwise.
I've long figured this is true for light, that it isn't made up of particles, but merely is quantified when measured. It doesn't "exist both as a wave and a particle"---its existence is best described in terms of conserved quantities, stuff that's always there no matter how you measure it, such as its energy; wavelike and particle-like nature is not conserved---it merely has measurable particular properties specific to certain measurements. For example, when measuring "where" some quantity of light energy is, it will be quantified into individual particular locations, but that doesn't make it necessary that the energy moved as those photons between places where it is measured, and certainly not that "it moves as a particle through both slits of a double-slit experiment at the same time," which is something that is not measured and is true only if the particle-like nature of light is persistent and not emergent from measurement. I believe the particle nature of light is not persistent between measurement, and I now believe the same is true of matter.
I don't know enough to make any claims, but I think that this alternative view could be made compatible with mainstream quantum mechanics, and might let other sciences more easily harmonize with quantum mechanics if they were forced to adopt it. Roughly, any 'weirdness' of quantum mechanics is not due to inherent properties of things and reality, but just quirks of how reality may be measured [edit: this is an example of over-generalizing an idea to justify a belief. The belief does not follow logically, it's just what I want the idea to mean]. If the particle nature of matter displays weird properties when measured one way vs. another, such nature and weirdness are not aspects of the matter independent of the measurements.
tl;dr: I disagree with the statements "Matter is made up of particles; matter is made up of waves." Instead I think "Matter has properties of particles and properties of waves." Same goes for light. The distinction is 1) That doesn't mean it is waves and particles, and 2) It need not have those properties all the time, in every way meaningful.
I still like the idea but the following post is content-free.
As of today, I do not believe in the existence of atoms apart from their measured properties. Specifically, I think that matter will exhibit particular properties when measured on a quantum scale, but not otherwise.
To avoid this degenerating into a purely philosophical idea, such as "nothing exists when it is not measured to exist", which probably can't be falsified, I'll qualify the idea. I think that matter can be measured to behave not as particles in certain cases, such as in macroscopic observations (everyday human interaction with most matter) [edit: this is an example of a uselessly vague idea. The macroscopic behavior of large bits of matter is consistent with it being made of particles, and there's no point to asking "yeah but what if it's not?", and no test, at least none that I've identified], interaction with light as a wave (a glass lens bends light as though it has smooth homogeneous surfaces rather than individual particles), and the behaviour of Bose-Einstein condensates (the "particles" of the matter seem to take up the entire space of the matter, and are I think not distinguishable from each other as particles).
I think that the mainstream view of this would be that matter exists as particles, that it always is made up of particles, and that those particles exhibit different behaviours depending on how they're observed. My view is that the particles are emergent and only show up as a consequence of the measurement, and are not actually there otherwise.
I've long figured this is true for light, that it isn't made up of particles, but merely is quantified when measured. It doesn't "exist both as a wave and a particle"---its existence is best described in terms of conserved quantities, stuff that's always there no matter how you measure it, such as its energy; wavelike and particle-like nature is not conserved---it merely has measurable particular properties specific to certain measurements. For example, when measuring "where" some quantity of light energy is, it will be quantified into individual particular locations, but that doesn't make it necessary that the energy moved as those photons between places where it is measured, and certainly not that "it moves as a particle through both slits of a double-slit experiment at the same time," which is something that is not measured and is true only if the particle-like nature of light is persistent and not emergent from measurement. I believe the particle nature of light is not persistent between measurement, and I now believe the same is true of matter.
I don't know enough to make any claims, but I think that this alternative view could be made compatible with mainstream quantum mechanics, and might let other sciences more easily harmonize with quantum mechanics if they were forced to adopt it. Roughly, any 'weirdness' of quantum mechanics is not due to inherent properties of things and reality, but just quirks of how reality may be measured [edit: this is an example of over-generalizing an idea to justify a belief. The belief does not follow logically, it's just what I want the idea to mean]. If the particle nature of matter displays weird properties when measured one way vs. another, such nature and weirdness are not aspects of the matter independent of the measurements.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Interstellar Is a Terrible Movie. Matthew McConaughey is terrible.
Famous physicist Kip Thorne is a producer on Interstellar, and worked to ensure that nothing in the film disobeys accepted laws of science, and among other things that the black hole visuals were based on sciencey equations. That's great, but there were not nearly enough awe-inspiring scenes of science to save the film.
Kip Thorne probably knows more about relativity than I know about anything. In his book The Science of Interstellar, he writes
SPOILER WARNING...
That's what made the film not great. Here are some of the things that made it bad:
Kip Thorne probably knows more about relativity than I know about anything. In his book The Science of Interstellar, he writes
I suggested [...] two guidelines for the science of Interstellar:However, there is a great divide between what can be predicted by physical laws, and what silly speculations technically avoid disobeying them. Interstellar does nothing to separate what is science from what is fantasy that might not yet be known to be impossible. I don't think Interstellar could be called a science movie. It's not even nearly plausible science fiction. At best it is science fantasy that is speculatively not proven to be completely impossible according to "some 'respectable' scientists".
1. Nothing in the film will violate firmly established laws of physics, or our firmly established knowledge of the universe.
2. Speculations (often wild) about ill-understood physical laws and the universe will spring from real science, from ideas that at least some “respectable” scientists regard as possible.
SPOILER WARNING...
That's what made the film not great. Here are some of the things that made it bad:
- The whole "average farmer/world's greatest pilot gets to fly the space shuttle and save the planet" trope. Why go from "even his kids' teachers don't respect him" to "he's flying manoeuvres that none of the scientists or flight computers knew were possible," over the length of the film? Why does there have to be a single space cowboy superhero who outdoes everyone else in existence and is constantly impressing everyone (and us!) by doing the implausible? In a real scientific movie, such as Apollo 13, great feats were pulled off by teams of cowboys and engineers, with no super-human individuals, but achieving superhuman greatness by all working together as a sum of parts. Why do we need the unlikely "every human is useless except the chosen one" crap?
- Matthew McConaughey. Props to the filmmakers for hiring someone with such a disabling speech impediment, but anyone else would have been a better choice.
- Square robots. Someone really liked the shape of the 2001 A Space Odyssey monoliths, but for robots and TV panel display cases they are entirely inconvenient. The robots are awkward and ungainly. Worse, where they could have showed off how a well-designed robot might adapt to handle different situations, the filmmakers instead get to show off how a poorly designed robot might be (implausibly!) forced to do so, and in doing so become a superhero too, eg. conveniently forming a self-propelled paddle wheel out of its inconvenient big-metal-box components.
- "Dudes, let's surf this gravitational wave!" The science of black holes and junk is fascinating on its own. It doesn't have to be turned into an adventure sport to hold our interest.
Overall I give it a 4/10 thumbs up and would recommend watching it for the visuals and the rare moments of interesting science. If you are not able to easily switch your brain off for the rest of the film to enjoy it despite the dumbness, then I'd avoid this film because it might cause brain damage.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Turing Test
The Turing test is an historical milestone goal in artificial intelligence, whereby a machine that passes is able to converse with someone and be indistinguishable from a human. In lay and pop science it is viewed by many as the single defining achievement of AI, but is seen as a distraction by many in the field. An example argument against the Turing test is that human communication isn't the only aspect of intelligence that exists, and reasoning and awareness without modern language could still indicate intelligence. An example argument in favour of it is that a system's intelligence is something that is measured in terms of its behaviour, and if its behaviour is indistinguishable from a known system defined as intelligent, then it is by definition measurably intelligent.
In my opinion, the Turing test isn't a test of intelligence at all, but of ability to mimic intelligence. For that reason alone I think it is more harmful than good, evolving AI work toward robust scripted responses instead of problem solving, cognition, thinking---the "hard" AI.
We're still in the infancy of AI, and it hasn't progressed as quickly as we once imagined (think Hal 9000 envisioned for the year 2001). Imagine if before air planes were invented, someone simply declared that the pinnacle of aircraft design would be if a person could fly between New York and Paris. It is arbitrary and does not directly evaluate design. This is like the Turing test. It has probably endured, because we haven't developed a truly intelligent system yet, and don't even know what it will end up looking like. A test of intelligence will evolve along with the technology, and we're just not there yet.
What might be a better test of artificial intelligence? I think that a more interesting milestone will be reached when an AI, instead of convincing a human that it is a person, is able to convince itself that it is. Surely a system that can think it is intelligent, is?
But then there is the problem that the easier it is to trick a system, the less indicative of intelligence it must be. We could not simply write a program that mimics the belief of introspective intelligence. And then again, how do we evaluate whether any system is mimicking belief, or truly believes? How do we do this when we do not even understand the process in humans? How can we be sure that our own thoughts are not just the product of patterns, of mimicking past thought processes? In that sense, mimicking a person well enough might be a sufficient test of intelligence. If a being (human or machine) convincingly argues that it is thinking or is conscious, and we're unable to probe it to tell if it is just saying so, thoughtlessly producing some programmed output, or is genuinely reasoning, how can we know?
The Turing test evaluates ability to display intelligent behaviour. Another important goal would be to solve a problem (but not a programmed one, or one of a class it is designed to solve. So I suppose the AI would need to figure out how to solve a new problem, and so evolve or rewrite itself, or at least build knowledge and ability). Another is to have self-awareness and feelings.
But the test... how do you test these things? Say an AI passes the Turing test and behaves like a human when probed. How then can one be convinced that it is thinking, having original thoughts, and not just producing them but... thinking... them... and how do we know that humans are really doing anything special anyway? We have our internal experience of thought... How can we prove that, or how do we internally know it's more than boring repetition of patterns?...
If we can't speak for certain about these things, I think we are not yet ready to define an ultimate test of what a true AI would be.
In my opinion, the Turing test isn't a test of intelligence at all, but of ability to mimic intelligence. For that reason alone I think it is more harmful than good, evolving AI work toward robust scripted responses instead of problem solving, cognition, thinking---the "hard" AI.
We're still in the infancy of AI, and it hasn't progressed as quickly as we once imagined (think Hal 9000 envisioned for the year 2001). Imagine if before air planes were invented, someone simply declared that the pinnacle of aircraft design would be if a person could fly between New York and Paris. It is arbitrary and does not directly evaluate design. This is like the Turing test. It has probably endured, because we haven't developed a truly intelligent system yet, and don't even know what it will end up looking like. A test of intelligence will evolve along with the technology, and we're just not there yet.
What might be a better test of artificial intelligence? I think that a more interesting milestone will be reached when an AI, instead of convincing a human that it is a person, is able to convince itself that it is. Surely a system that can think it is intelligent, is?
But then there is the problem that the easier it is to trick a system, the less indicative of intelligence it must be. We could not simply write a program that mimics the belief of introspective intelligence. And then again, how do we evaluate whether any system is mimicking belief, or truly believes? How do we do this when we do not even understand the process in humans? How can we be sure that our own thoughts are not just the product of patterns, of mimicking past thought processes? In that sense, mimicking a person well enough might be a sufficient test of intelligence. If a being (human or machine) convincingly argues that it is thinking or is conscious, and we're unable to probe it to tell if it is just saying so, thoughtlessly producing some programmed output, or is genuinely reasoning, how can we know?
The Turing test evaluates ability to display intelligent behaviour. Another important goal would be to solve a problem (but not a programmed one, or one of a class it is designed to solve. So I suppose the AI would need to figure out how to solve a new problem, and so evolve or rewrite itself, or at least build knowledge and ability). Another is to have self-awareness and feelings.
But the test... how do you test these things? Say an AI passes the Turing test and behaves like a human when probed. How then can one be convinced that it is thinking, having original thoughts, and not just producing them but... thinking... them... and how do we know that humans are really doing anything special anyway? We have our internal experience of thought... How can we prove that, or how do we internally know it's more than boring repetition of patterns?...
If we can't speak for certain about these things, I think we are not yet ready to define an ultimate test of what a true AI would be.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Evolution will treat hostility with hostility
Here's an idea that might apply to all three of humans vs. nature, humans vs. humans, and disease vs. humans: A system in which one group negatively affects the survival of another group is not stable, even if the hostile group attempts to keep it stable. A hostile entity must either completely eradicate another, or the other will evolve to disrupt the system. This would predict that humans cannot indefinitely harm nature without nature putting a stop to it, and that murderous tyrants cannot maintain power over oppressed people, and that since we try to kill all germs, superbugs will evolve to kill us.
Why? First let's assume that group A has a negative influence on the survival of group B, but with an intention to control its survival rather than wipe it out. Then, any evolved behavior in group B that circumvents death by group A, is an evolutionary advantage. So on the surface, behavior that allows B to "get along" with A is an advantage, but unless it is effective enough to disrupt the system (and make A no longer a negative influence on B's survival) thus making it an unstable system, then it is not good enough to prevent A's influence. It's not good enough for B to change its behavior to adapt to A, because A can also adapt, so if its hereditary advantage is to oppress or control B, A may also evolve to maintain control. This is what should happen if the system is evolving and stable. For example, if new superbugs evolve ways to survive disinfection, we will look for new ways to kill them. So unless the system becomes symbiotic, it is an insufficient evolutionary advantage for B to only find a way to put up with A. A better advantage would be to disrupt A, and disruptive evolved behaviors may provide the only way for B to ensure its survival. It either dies by group A, or it stops group A.
This means that superbugs aren't busy evolving a way to avoid being killed by us, they must be evolving a way to kill us, because only the group that does so will survive. A disease that can take us down will be more successful than a disease that can survive as we look for new ways to kill it.
As per the other examples, it would mean that humans cannot be sustainably harmful to nature, without either destroying it completely or inducing evolution that is harmful to humans. It also suggests that murderers are never really safe. In a stable system, neither group must be trying to kill the other, because only then would there be no certain evolutionary advantage to killing the other first before they kill you.
The hypothesis assumes that such system-disrupting evolved behaviors are always possible, and likely enough to rely on one happening eventually, but I think it's true of the examples given at least.
Why? First let's assume that group A has a negative influence on the survival of group B, but with an intention to control its survival rather than wipe it out. Then, any evolved behavior in group B that circumvents death by group A, is an evolutionary advantage. So on the surface, behavior that allows B to "get along" with A is an advantage, but unless it is effective enough to disrupt the system (and make A no longer a negative influence on B's survival) thus making it an unstable system, then it is not good enough to prevent A's influence. It's not good enough for B to change its behavior to adapt to A, because A can also adapt, so if its hereditary advantage is to oppress or control B, A may also evolve to maintain control. This is what should happen if the system is evolving and stable. For example, if new superbugs evolve ways to survive disinfection, we will look for new ways to kill them. So unless the system becomes symbiotic, it is an insufficient evolutionary advantage for B to only find a way to put up with A. A better advantage would be to disrupt A, and disruptive evolved behaviors may provide the only way for B to ensure its survival. It either dies by group A, or it stops group A.
This means that superbugs aren't busy evolving a way to avoid being killed by us, they must be evolving a way to kill us, because only the group that does so will survive. A disease that can take us down will be more successful than a disease that can survive as we look for new ways to kill it.
As per the other examples, it would mean that humans cannot be sustainably harmful to nature, without either destroying it completely or inducing evolution that is harmful to humans. It also suggests that murderers are never really safe. In a stable system, neither group must be trying to kill the other, because only then would there be no certain evolutionary advantage to killing the other first before they kill you.
The hypothesis assumes that such system-disrupting evolved behaviors are always possible, and likely enough to rely on one happening eventually, but I think it's true of the examples given at least.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Wikipedia Is a Terrible Reference to Cite
Wikipedia is viewed by many[citation needed] to be an inferior reference, because anyone can edit its pages. I disagree that it is, and find that much relevant information is expertly written, and the fact that it can be corrected by anyone may sometimes improve its reliability.
Referenced information can change through later edits, and that is a problem. If a paper is influential enough to induce changes in an applicable wiki, the paper may end up referencing itself, which we all know can cause pretty serious spacetime anomalies. However, these issues can resolved by referencing a specific dated version of a wiki page.
So it's settled. Citing wikipedia is no problem. I decided to do so and before finishing the paper, found that my first reference no longer existed. That is a problem!
It turned out that the entire topic that I'd referenced was deleted, because it "appears to be original research and has no relevant citations". Unfortunately, old versions of any deleted pages are not publicly visible, in case they contain plagiarized material. The irony of course is that if the page is correctly deleted because it is original material, it is incorrectly hidden because it might not be! In this case, the information must be removed from public sight because it might be both original and copied.
It must be an indication of unreliability if your wikipedia reference ends up deleted. If the wiki is well-cited, it might be better to copy the citations from the wiki rather than reference the wiki itself. If it is not well-cited, it might be better to include the "original research" in your paper.
This is an example of perverse results of the law of unintended consequences; Pages are purged from view to prevent copyright infringement, making it now preferable to copy information from a wiki page than to properly cite it.
Wikipedia seems to be trying to avoid being a citable reference.
Referenced information can change through later edits, and that is a problem. If a paper is influential enough to induce changes in an applicable wiki, the paper may end up referencing itself, which we all know can cause pretty serious spacetime anomalies. However, these issues can resolved by referencing a specific dated version of a wiki page.
So it's settled. Citing wikipedia is no problem. I decided to do so and before finishing the paper, found that my first reference no longer existed. That is a problem!
It turned out that the entire topic that I'd referenced was deleted, because it "appears to be original research and has no relevant citations". Unfortunately, old versions of any deleted pages are not publicly visible, in case they contain plagiarized material. The irony of course is that if the page is correctly deleted because it is original material, it is incorrectly hidden because it might not be! In this case, the information must be removed from public sight because it might be both original and copied.
It must be an indication of unreliability if your wikipedia reference ends up deleted. If the wiki is well-cited, it might be better to copy the citations from the wiki rather than reference the wiki itself. If it is not well-cited, it might be better to include the "original research" in your paper.
This is an example of perverse results of the law of unintended consequences; Pages are purged from view to prevent copyright infringement, making it now preferable to copy information from a wiki page than to properly cite it.
Wikipedia seems to be trying to avoid being a citable reference.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
More Tips on Writing a Bad Crackpot Paper
Continued from a previous post...
- Don't worry about being able to understand what you're writing. The point of a paper isn't to figure it all out (especially the maths and the experimental verification, which of course can be left to someone else to contribute), but to explain things as you see them, so that some other "smart" scientist is able to figure out if you're right or not. It is best to use as many obscure technical words as you can, which increases the chance that the paper will inspire in someone an idea of what you might be talking about. Also, those who can't make sense of your technical jargon will nevertheless be impressed by it, and will commit themselves to putting in the extra time needed to figure it out. Essentially, if you think your theory might have anything to do with some words that you've heard before, use those words, and hopefully someone will see how you might be right. Eg. "Unified Theory of Quantum Super-symmetry" sounds excellent.
- If you can't explain it concisely, then explain it repetitively. If this were easy to explain, it wouldn't be a work of genius, now would it!? If an explanation doesn't come out right the first time, keep adding to it. Try different wording, too. If you try to convey the same idea many times, eventually it's going to make sense to someone.
- It's okay to be vague. Intelligent readers can fill in the details themselves (again, applies to maths, specific results, etc.).
Monday, May 28, 2012
Metabeing
1. The Economy is a metahuman.
I've become increasingly suspicious of the phrase "It's good for the economy." Whom does this Economy represent? It is not individuals who benefit directly when the Economy does well, yet most feel their livelihoods depend on the Economy being looked after first and foremost, no matter how indirectly (how low one is on the ladder) one's own well-being is impacted by Its well-being.
The Economy seems to be an artificial being, created by humans, and increasingly given greater importance over its creators. Sacrifice yourselves; protect the Economy! I imagine this is what it must have felt like for single-celled organisms to begin organizing into multi-celled organisms, and to increasingly give up their own interests for the sake of the collective Being. And I'm sure that those single cells thought about it and realized what was happening, about the same amount that humans seem to. Perhaps these cells increasingly gave up their individuality until some moment when they were no longer functional alone. At that point the collective becomes a necessity, and doing what's best for the Being is what is best for the individual. Are we there yet with the Economy? Are we able to live completely care-free and ruled only by individual will, or must we put the Economy first in order to make survival as an individual possible? We are still individual cells, but we cannot survive without the collective we've become.
2. A metahuman is not a human.
Cells come together to form a Being, which will have some goals similar to the cells and some goals that are completely new. Similarly, the metahuman that is formed by a collection of humans will have its own goals that do not apply to individual humans. In the case of the Economy, unrestrained and unrelenting growth is an example of a non-goal of a human body.
We expected the metahuman to be something created in our likeness. Namely we expected it to be The Singularity. We pictured it very human-like---a brain in a computer that thinks the way we do, and perhaps takes over from its creators by scheming the way we do. And it would be like this because we were to design it. It would be like us because we would make it that way. But as we all know, beings are evolved, not designed. A metahuman, whether a Singularity or an Economy, will not have human goals because we made it so, but rather it will possess evolved, metahuman, inhuman goals.
I don't think we can plan it. I don't even know if we could kill it. But I think we can observe it, as cells, and watch or even steer to a degree the evolution of the metabeing that will make us obsolete except as interchangeable parts.
What goals might the Economy be evolving on its own? Unsustainable growth is unsustainable and would need to be evolved out one way or another, but what other goals might be imagined using the multi-celled Being as an analogy?
I've become increasingly suspicious of the phrase "It's good for the economy." Whom does this Economy represent? It is not individuals who benefit directly when the Economy does well, yet most feel their livelihoods depend on the Economy being looked after first and foremost, no matter how indirectly (how low one is on the ladder) one's own well-being is impacted by Its well-being.
The Economy seems to be an artificial being, created by humans, and increasingly given greater importance over its creators. Sacrifice yourselves; protect the Economy! I imagine this is what it must have felt like for single-celled organisms to begin organizing into multi-celled organisms, and to increasingly give up their own interests for the sake of the collective Being. And I'm sure that those single cells thought about it and realized what was happening, about the same amount that humans seem to. Perhaps these cells increasingly gave up their individuality until some moment when they were no longer functional alone. At that point the collective becomes a necessity, and doing what's best for the Being is what is best for the individual. Are we there yet with the Economy? Are we able to live completely care-free and ruled only by individual will, or must we put the Economy first in order to make survival as an individual possible? We are still individual cells, but we cannot survive without the collective we've become.
2. A metahuman is not a human.
Cells come together to form a Being, which will have some goals similar to the cells and some goals that are completely new. Similarly, the metahuman that is formed by a collection of humans will have its own goals that do not apply to individual humans. In the case of the Economy, unrestrained and unrelenting growth is an example of a non-goal of a human body.
We expected the metahuman to be something created in our likeness. Namely we expected it to be The Singularity. We pictured it very human-like---a brain in a computer that thinks the way we do, and perhaps takes over from its creators by scheming the way we do. And it would be like this because we were to design it. It would be like us because we would make it that way. But as we all know, beings are evolved, not designed. A metahuman, whether a Singularity or an Economy, will not have human goals because we made it so, but rather it will possess evolved, metahuman, inhuman goals.
I don't think we can plan it. I don't even know if we could kill it. But I think we can observe it, as cells, and watch or even steer to a degree the evolution of the metabeing that will make us obsolete except as interchangeable parts.
What goals might the Economy be evolving on its own? Unsustainable growth is unsustainable and would need to be evolved out one way or another, but what other goals might be imagined using the multi-celled Being as an analogy?
- The collective is more important than the individual. Our lives are secondary to the health of the Economy.
- The collective may need to sacrifice groups of cells. No need to go into morbid details; safe to say this already happens.
- The collective has goals that the cells are incapable of understanding. The Economy might have plans that we could not even possibly understand.
- The collective becomes the individual, but then may become just a cell in another collective. If we end up creating multiple individual economies, will they begin to interact and form a Meta-economy that we couldn't even fathom at this point? And so on, until we're no longer cells in a Being, but only quarks in an atom in a molecule in a cell in a Being.
And so... ?
I hadn't yet figured out where I was going with this...
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
The problem with Why
I've heard it said that "Why?" is not a question for science, but a question for philosophy. Science is only about the "What". It describes the behavior of things, not the reasons for it.
That's simply not true. Science answers every "Why" question that it can competently answer, and it would answer more questions if we had more knowledge to be able to.
The issue comes up a lot with quantum mechanics, such as "Why is a photon's behavior probabilistic for example in the double-slit experiment?"
It is however not necessarily a problem of "not enough knowledge".
I think that one of the main problems with "Why?" is that the asker is not just looking for a cause or a description of a mechanism as an answer to the question, but instead is unintentionally asking "What explanation is there that can be described in terms of things that I've experienced?" The asker is looking for a "common sense" answer, and there is no reason why every physical phenomenon should have an analogue in human experience. Thus, it may be that a satisfactory answer for something like "Why do things behave probabilistically?" might not exist in common-sense English, using words that describe things that we experience directly.
The answer to every "Why?" might be "That's the way it is." It might not be possible to always break down the answer into simple-to-visualize concepts.
Addendum: To paraphrase Richard Feynman, "why?" is not a good question to ask, because it can be asked again of any answer given, until eventually there is no possible answer. However, I feel there is no problem in answering every "why?" that can be answered, so long as the asker understands that not all of them can be.
That's simply not true. Science answers every "Why" question that it can competently answer, and it would answer more questions if we had more knowledge to be able to.
The issue comes up a lot with quantum mechanics, such as "Why is a photon's behavior probabilistic for example in the double-slit experiment?"
It is however not necessarily a problem of "not enough knowledge".
I think that one of the main problems with "Why?" is that the asker is not just looking for a cause or a description of a mechanism as an answer to the question, but instead is unintentionally asking "What explanation is there that can be described in terms of things that I've experienced?" The asker is looking for a "common sense" answer, and there is no reason why every physical phenomenon should have an analogue in human experience. Thus, it may be that a satisfactory answer for something like "Why do things behave probabilistically?" might not exist in common-sense English, using words that describe things that we experience directly.
The answer to every "Why?" might be "That's the way it is." It might not be possible to always break down the answer into simple-to-visualize concepts.
Addendum: To paraphrase Richard Feynman, "why?" is not a good question to ask, because it can be asked again of any answer given, until eventually there is no possible answer. However, I feel there is no problem in answering every "why?" that can be answered, so long as the asker understands that not all of them can be.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Guide to writing a bad crackpot paper
- The abstract should introduce the topic on which you will be speaking. The first couple sentences should read like those of a wikipedia entry on the related branch of science, in case the reader has never heard of that branch before. Your target audience doesn't know anything about science; they are blank pages ready to be filled with your knowledge! General statements alluding to great accomplishments made in the paper are good because they build anticipation, but no specific details should be given in an abstract. It is better not to spoil the surprise!
- Ensure to include an acknowledgments section, but acknowledge only yourself. This emphasizes your "lone wolf" status. Impressing the reader is paramount, and the reader will understand the gravity of the paper's genius when she realizes that you did this all by yourself.
An allowed exception is to acknowledge God for His contributions to and inspirations for your work. - End on an inspirational note. Scientists are very dogmatic, and may not accept your work... mainly due to prejudice. It may sway their favor to remind them of Galileo or other revolutionaries who, like you, also wrote groundbreaking papers that bucked the standard. Some readers need to be reminded to keep an open mind, or that a positive, accepting attitude will make them feel better than would remaining a curmudgeony old scientist.
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.
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.)
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.
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.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Convergent superficial alternate realities
A typical interpretation of the Schrodinger's cat thought experiment is that in one reality, the cat will die, and in another it will continue to live a long and prosperous life. If every probabilistic event has each outcome realized in a different reality, the butterfly effect implies that any 2 similar realities would quickly become very different. These could be called divergent alternate realities.
Special relativity can describe a much milder interpretation. If we assume that any cat must at some time die, then relativity of simultaneity tells us that that moment isn't the same for all possible observers. It's possible that for one observer the cat is dead, and for another it is still alive. This is the reality for each observer, however these might be called superficial alternate realities. The details such as timing of events are different in the different realities, but the cat's eventual death and the cause of its death are common. Further, if you bring any 2 observers to the same location and velocity, the description of their separate realities should merge. This might be called convergent alternate realities.
With these definitions and an acceptance of special relativity, convergent superficial alternate realities are a fact of nature. But are divergent alternate realities also real?
...
We would then be interested in determining the furthest extent to which alternate realities can diverge. We might do this by separating the properties of the universe into two categories: those that change depending on how they are observed (subjective), and those that don't (objective, absolute, or invariant).
Subjective aspects of reality:
time
distance
Invariant aspects of reality:
c
causality
Causality is a significant property in the Schrodinger's cat experiment. If indeed it is invariant, then it is possible for the experiment to be viewed with multiple superficial outcomes by multiple observers, but the state of the cat (dead or alive) as determined by the causal connection between events, would be convergent among different realities. It would either remain alive, or eventually die by the same causes in all realities.
Schrodinger's experiment relies on quantum phenomena translating to real-world events. Using the above interpretation, however, we can find a disconnect between the two: At the particle scale, we might describe reality according to subjective properties, but then as we back out to a human scale we may inadvertently switch to including an invariant property.
Much of the nature of particles is subjective. If distance is completely observer-dependent, then particle location, velocity, and even size can be subjective. Particles will be observed differently by different observers. It is possible that 2 observers do not even have the same particles in their respective realities. Yet, if causality is invariant, then particle interactions that cause other observable events must be invariant across multiple realities. Ie. causal relations must be realized in all realities regardless of how they may be differently observed.
Both quantum mechanics and special relativity can be interpreted as requiring alternate observational realities. They do not require the more extreme interpretations of parallel universes in which we each live out an infinite number of wildly different lives. Since causality is shown to be invariant in special relativity, it is likely that such wild interpretations where causality is subjective, are false.
In summary, it is possible that the physical details and makeup of different alternate realities are very different, and yet that all realities converge on a single consistent description of the universe.
Special relativity can describe a much milder interpretation. If we assume that any cat must at some time die, then relativity of simultaneity tells us that that moment isn't the same for all possible observers. It's possible that for one observer the cat is dead, and for another it is still alive. This is the reality for each observer, however these might be called superficial alternate realities. The details such as timing of events are different in the different realities, but the cat's eventual death and the cause of its death are common. Further, if you bring any 2 observers to the same location and velocity, the description of their separate realities should merge. This might be called convergent alternate realities.
With these definitions and an acceptance of special relativity, convergent superficial alternate realities are a fact of nature. But are divergent alternate realities also real?
...
We would then be interested in determining the furthest extent to which alternate realities can diverge. We might do this by separating the properties of the universe into two categories: those that change depending on how they are observed (subjective), and those that don't (objective, absolute, or invariant).
Subjective aspects of reality:
time
distance
Invariant aspects of reality:
c
causality
Causality is a significant property in the Schrodinger's cat experiment. If indeed it is invariant, then it is possible for the experiment to be viewed with multiple superficial outcomes by multiple observers, but the state of the cat (dead or alive) as determined by the causal connection between events, would be convergent among different realities. It would either remain alive, or eventually die by the same causes in all realities.
Schrodinger's experiment relies on quantum phenomena translating to real-world events. Using the above interpretation, however, we can find a disconnect between the two: At the particle scale, we might describe reality according to subjective properties, but then as we back out to a human scale we may inadvertently switch to including an invariant property.
Much of the nature of particles is subjective. If distance is completely observer-dependent, then particle location, velocity, and even size can be subjective. Particles will be observed differently by different observers. It is possible that 2 observers do not even have the same particles in their respective realities. Yet, if causality is invariant, then particle interactions that cause other observable events must be invariant across multiple realities. Ie. causal relations must be realized in all realities regardless of how they may be differently observed.
Both quantum mechanics and special relativity can be interpreted as requiring alternate observational realities. They do not require the more extreme interpretations of parallel universes in which we each live out an infinite number of wildly different lives. Since causality is shown to be invariant in special relativity, it is likely that such wild interpretations where causality is subjective, are false.
In summary, it is possible that the physical details and makeup of different alternate realities are very different, and yet that all realities converge on a single consistent description of the universe.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
This is what makes time-travel possible. The flux capacitor.
I was thinking about the idea that time equals distance, and why you would be able to "move back" in distance but not in time. Then I realized that in a sense, you can. You just can't do it on a very large scale...
A simple example of how “relative time” implies that time-travel is effectively impossible.
As an example let us consider an event involving 2 particles A and B, moving away from a point or planet P, perhaps after an explosion. Let us consider it from the perspective of A moving relative to P, from which we observe that B is also moving away from P.
The notion of “universal time” suggests the idea that if time were to be “reversed”, then every process involving time would be reversed. A would move back toward P, as would B, and they would do so consistently along a single “time line”.
However, we know that universal time is not real, and that time is in fact relative. The aspect of that which is important in this example is that time according to A is not the same as time according to B.
Suppose that A did in fact reverse direction and began moving back toward P. Suppose that it's possible to consider this in a way where we can't distinguish between the reversal of time between A and P, vs a simple reversal of direction of travel of A relative to P. For all intents and purposes, a simple enough particle A moving back toward a simple enough particle P might be considered time-travel backwards.
However, the time defined by A and P is independent of the time between B and P. What is done to affect the former does not necessarily affect the latter. So while time can be considered going in reverse for A and P, particle B is continuing to move away from P, which we would call “forward in time”.
The same applies to any particles C, D, etc. So suppose we define a clock at P between particles P and C (or any set of particles that we wish). Manipulation of the relative time between A and P would not affect the relative time measured by P and C etc. So while A can be considered moving back in time toward P, that doesn't affect the time measured by the clock at P. A can move back in time and return to a state of P relative to A that is identical to a former state of P relative to A, yet it cannot simply return to a former state of P relative to B, C, etc. As observed by A, P has continued moving forward in time relative to everything else, including its own clocks.
Thus the effect of any sort of time-travel involving A and P will have no noticeable effect in a complex enough system involving multiple particles, or particles with their own internal time-related processes.
In conclusion, I submit that effective time-travel would not involve manipulation of a single variable called “time”; it would require manipulation of countless variables of time defined between all of the particles involved. In other words, time-travel is possible, but only relatively, not universally.
Addendum: Due to relativity of simultaneity, it would be impossible to choose an instant at which to begin a reversal of time, that would be agreed upon by all observers. So even if you could somehow time-reverse all of a complex system, you would lack the notion of a universal time-reversal along a single time-line. While from one perspective it may seem that everything suddenly reversed, from another perspective it may seem that some things reversed while others continued "forward", with various parts beginning to reverse at different time.
Time-travel as it is commonly understood is a notion that is tied to the classical idea of universal time, which people still use to define and understand their world, even though universal time is known to be incorrect.
To get more complicated, we might say that time is related to entropy in this way: When you have any 2 particles split from a single location, you introduce distance between them, which effectively defines a measure of time between them. The greater number of independent locations of particles relative to each other that you have, and the greater the distances between them, the harder it is to get everything back to the way it was previously.
We could say that time is simply the measure of distance between everything.
I've talked about the idea that time and distance are simply perceptual side-effects of the consistency of the underlying physical nature of the universe.
If this is so, then the mysterious imaginary spherical surface that you can describe around any point, which is defined by geometry or perhaps even defines geometry, may be a reflection of entropy. As time (radius) increases, the possible configurations that can fit on the sphere, ie entropy (sphere's surface), increases. This could be why at distances r from you, more "stuff" in the universe can fit around you the bigger r is.
If you have a strictly expanding universe (where no energy reverses outward direction, ie "goes back in time") then its entropy would be proportional to the area of the surface of a sphere of radius t (the age of the universe).
I'm sure that this is related to the holographic principle, which suggests something similar... but I'm not sure if it's a meaningful idea or not.
I'd like to think so, though. :) Time relativity has suggested that time and distance are illusory, and because I don't know of any need for additional dimensions, I've had this hunch-like feeling that the universe can be described completely in 2 dimensions. I've also figured that the universe is exactly like a black hole (and looks like a singularity from the outside), and so I've taken the holographic principle to heart as "something else that also suggests the universe might be 2 dimensional". It seems believable or somehow right -- I have "faith" in it -- yet I don't understand it enough to say why. It would certainly be nice if everything came together.
It certainly feels like a simplification of everything. Working with time relativity is "weird" and confusing, but in the end if it yields other interesting results everything might disappear in a puff of equivalence.
What is the universe? A singularity, which appears to be more due to geometry.
What is geometry? An effect of entropy.
What is entropy? An effect of distance, which is equivalent to time.
What is time? Nothing.
Could it be that the universe came from nothing, and all along, it has remained nothing?
...
Possibly, but until I can make sense of the meaning of that, I'm not going to claim it is so.
The ideas don't stop.
Perhaps then, a two dimensional universe with perceptual side-effects of time and length appears to us consistently as a 3-dimensional thing.
But, since entropy is proportional to the surface area (square of r) around any volume, yet the possible amount of matter in the volume is proportional to the cube of r, the same "magic" that allows us to consistently see a 2D universe in 3D would require that the more matter you pack into a volume, the smaller r must appear.
The result: space-time curvature.
A simple example of how “relative time” implies that time-travel is effectively impossible.
As an example let us consider an event involving 2 particles A and B, moving away from a point or planet P, perhaps after an explosion. Let us consider it from the perspective of A moving relative to P, from which we observe that B is also moving away from P.
The notion of “universal time” suggests the idea that if time were to be “reversed”, then every process involving time would be reversed. A would move back toward P, as would B, and they would do so consistently along a single “time line”.
However, we know that universal time is not real, and that time is in fact relative. The aspect of that which is important in this example is that time according to A is not the same as time according to B.
Suppose that A did in fact reverse direction and began moving back toward P. Suppose that it's possible to consider this in a way where we can't distinguish between the reversal of time between A and P, vs a simple reversal of direction of travel of A relative to P. For all intents and purposes, a simple enough particle A moving back toward a simple enough particle P might be considered time-travel backwards.
However, the time defined by A and P is independent of the time between B and P. What is done to affect the former does not necessarily affect the latter. So while time can be considered going in reverse for A and P, particle B is continuing to move away from P, which we would call “forward in time”.
The same applies to any particles C, D, etc. So suppose we define a clock at P between particles P and C (or any set of particles that we wish). Manipulation of the relative time between A and P would not affect the relative time measured by P and C etc. So while A can be considered moving back in time toward P, that doesn't affect the time measured by the clock at P. A can move back in time and return to a state of P relative to A that is identical to a former state of P relative to A, yet it cannot simply return to a former state of P relative to B, C, etc. As observed by A, P has continued moving forward in time relative to everything else, including its own clocks.
Thus the effect of any sort of time-travel involving A and P will have no noticeable effect in a complex enough system involving multiple particles, or particles with their own internal time-related processes.
In conclusion, I submit that effective time-travel would not involve manipulation of a single variable called “time”; it would require manipulation of countless variables of time defined between all of the particles involved. In other words, time-travel is possible, but only relatively, not universally.
Addendum: Due to relativity of simultaneity, it would be impossible to choose an instant at which to begin a reversal of time, that would be agreed upon by all observers. So even if you could somehow time-reverse all of a complex system, you would lack the notion of a universal time-reversal along a single time-line. While from one perspective it may seem that everything suddenly reversed, from another perspective it may seem that some things reversed while others continued "forward", with various parts beginning to reverse at different time.
Time-travel as it is commonly understood is a notion that is tied to the classical idea of universal time, which people still use to define and understand their world, even though universal time is known to be incorrect.
To get more complicated, we might say that time is related to entropy in this way: When you have any 2 particles split from a single location, you introduce distance between them, which effectively defines a measure of time between them. The greater number of independent locations of particles relative to each other that you have, and the greater the distances between them, the harder it is to get everything back to the way it was previously.
We could say that time is simply the measure of distance between everything.
I've talked about the idea that time and distance are simply perceptual side-effects of the consistency of the underlying physical nature of the universe.
If this is so, then the mysterious imaginary spherical surface that you can describe around any point, which is defined by geometry or perhaps even defines geometry, may be a reflection of entropy. As time (radius) increases, the possible configurations that can fit on the sphere, ie entropy (sphere's surface), increases. This could be why at distances r from you, more "stuff" in the universe can fit around you the bigger r is.
If you have a strictly expanding universe (where no energy reverses outward direction, ie "goes back in time") then its entropy would be proportional to the area of the surface of a sphere of radius t (the age of the universe).
I'm sure that this is related to the holographic principle, which suggests something similar... but I'm not sure if it's a meaningful idea or not.
I'd like to think so, though. :) Time relativity has suggested that time and distance are illusory, and because I don't know of any need for additional dimensions, I've had this hunch-like feeling that the universe can be described completely in 2 dimensions. I've also figured that the universe is exactly like a black hole (and looks like a singularity from the outside), and so I've taken the holographic principle to heart as "something else that also suggests the universe might be 2 dimensional". It seems believable or somehow right -- I have "faith" in it -- yet I don't understand it enough to say why. It would certainly be nice if everything came together.
It certainly feels like a simplification of everything. Working with time relativity is "weird" and confusing, but in the end if it yields other interesting results everything might disappear in a puff of equivalence.
What is the universe? A singularity, which appears to be more due to geometry.
What is geometry? An effect of entropy.
What is entropy? An effect of distance, which is equivalent to time.
What is time? Nothing.
Could it be that the universe came from nothing, and all along, it has remained nothing?
...
Possibly, but until I can make sense of the meaning of that, I'm not going to claim it is so.
The ideas don't stop.
Perhaps then, a two dimensional universe with perceptual side-effects of time and length appears to us consistently as a 3-dimensional thing.
But, since entropy is proportional to the surface area (square of r) around any volume, yet the possible amount of matter in the volume is proportional to the cube of r, the same "magic" that allows us to consistently see a 2D universe in 3D would require that the more matter you pack into a volume, the smaller r must appear.
The result: space-time curvature.
Friday, February 4, 2011
20 points from Gryffindor
The crackpot index awards "20 points for suggesting that you deserve a Nobel prize."
For the record, I would like to officially deny that I ever said or implied that I deserve a Nobel prize.
Rather, I would like that they rename the Nobel prize after me. I think that I deserve to win that prize. Like, every year. Including past years.
And I'm not saying I deserve to win all those prizes. Most of them, perhaps. Whoever invented atoms probably deserves theirs. But still, I'd like to win them all. It would be nice.
The past winners can keep their certificates, though. Cuz I'm nice.
But like... I heard they gave a Nobel prize to the guy who invented dynamite! I mean, come on!
For the record, I would like to officially deny that I ever said or implied that I deserve a Nobel prize.
Rather, I would like that they rename the Nobel prize after me. I think that I deserve to win that prize. Like, every year. Including past years.
And I'm not saying I deserve to win all those prizes. Most of them, perhaps. Whoever invented atoms probably deserves theirs. But still, I'd like to win them all. It would be nice.
The past winners can keep their certificates, though. Cuz I'm nice.
But like... I heard they gave a Nobel prize to the guy who invented dynamite! I mean, come on!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Fake Science
In the future, relativity will make intuitive "common" sense. For now, it doesn't. The fact that Einstein figured it out despite it making no sense doesn't make him a fake, as some (who likely don't get relativity) might say, it makes him astounding.
Relativity is correct, and besides, this post isn't really about Einstein, but about crackpots. Before I quote this article, you should know that the answer is "No": Was Einstein a fake?
With my limited experience, it seems that there are two main aspects of theoretical physics. The first involves knowing what the answer is (a hypothesis), and trying to find the proper math to specify or prove it. The second involves having the proper math, and trying to figure out what it means, which gives you a hypothesis. The process is iterative. You don't get the right answer or the right math from nowhere, but each iteration gives you a few more clues that lead to what's right.
In purely theoretical physics, imagination is the laboratory, and math is the apparatus.
There's a certain element of "making it up as you go along", but I don't think there's anything fake about that. If it were, then the only science that isn't fake is the description of things that are already known. Then we might as well merge science and history.
But I don't think that an idea on its own has some absolute value. The idea can change and so does its value, as it is developed. Showing that an idea is right or wrong changes its value. Even how easy it is to investigate the correctness of the idea affects its value. If for example you have an earth-shaking new idea that is correct, but it will take 200 years before anyone is able to show that it is correct or to use the idea in developing any other work, then that correct idea may have a low value for its first 200 years. And so I think it's up to us crackpots to express ideas in a valuable way... simply, clearly, unambiguously, backed up with math and logic, even empirical observations if possible, and most of all comprehensibly.
At that point, is it possible for a crackpot to get anyone capable of understanding it, to try? Presumably, the more important an idea is, the farther it is from accepted mainstream science, thus the more it will incline people to ignore it. For now I will say that the failing is on part of the crackpots, and not the rest of the world. Eventually I hope to have some evidence to evaluate the latter.
The first version of the paper on time relativity was an incomprehensible mess. Will the next version be good enough to convince anyone of anything?
Relativity is correct, and besides, this post isn't really about Einstein, but about crackpots. Before I quote this article, you should know that the answer is "No": Was Einstein a fake?
"In most cases it is a sad story," says Smolin. "Sometimes someone has been working for many years on an idea, and has clearly a huge investment in it. Sometimes it literally comes from someone living on a park bench in Rio or in a homeless shelter in New York.
...
In the end, Gaensler says, "I feel sorry for these people — because, after all, there might be someone out there now like Einstein, working in obscurity, who does have some truly new insight, but scientists just won't take him seriously because of all these other crackpots we've had to deal with."
With my limited experience, it seems that there are two main aspects of theoretical physics. The first involves knowing what the answer is (a hypothesis), and trying to find the proper math to specify or prove it. The second involves having the proper math, and trying to figure out what it means, which gives you a hypothesis. The process is iterative. You don't get the right answer or the right math from nowhere, but each iteration gives you a few more clues that lead to what's right.
In purely theoretical physics, imagination is the laboratory, and math is the apparatus.
There's a certain element of "making it up as you go along", but I don't think there's anything fake about that. If it were, then the only science that isn't fake is the description of things that are already known. Then we might as well merge science and history.
But I don't think that an idea on its own has some absolute value. The idea can change and so does its value, as it is developed. Showing that an idea is right or wrong changes its value. Even how easy it is to investigate the correctness of the idea affects its value. If for example you have an earth-shaking new idea that is correct, but it will take 200 years before anyone is able to show that it is correct or to use the idea in developing any other work, then that correct idea may have a low value for its first 200 years. And so I think it's up to us crackpots to express ideas in a valuable way... simply, clearly, unambiguously, backed up with math and logic, even empirical observations if possible, and most of all comprehensibly.
At that point, is it possible for a crackpot to get anyone capable of understanding it, to try? Presumably, the more important an idea is, the farther it is from accepted mainstream science, thus the more it will incline people to ignore it. For now I will say that the failing is on part of the crackpots, and not the rest of the world. Eventually I hope to have some evidence to evaluate the latter.
The first version of the paper on time relativity was an incomprehensible mess. Will the next version be good enough to convince anyone of anything?
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Mike's Principle
I've decided that conjecture, especially exemplified by Mach's principle, is the greatest bat-tool in a good crackpot scientist's utility belt.
Mach's principle concerns junk like: Say you are spinning and looking at the stars, and "the stars are whirling around you and your arms are pulled away from your body." The conjecture in a nutshell is that there is some physical law relating the two.
What is so great about a conjecture stated as such (Mach actually expressed it differently), is that it doesn't have to explain anything or even make specific testable claims. It doesn't even have to be right to be useful. Mach's principle can be as simple as "There is some relation between my arms pulling away, and the stars spinning around me." This sounds like pure crackpot science, but if you allow the relation between arms and stars to be very indirect and very loose, then you can find some truth in it. And it is in investigating the relationship where the value of the conjecture becomes real. In the case of Mach's principle, Einstein used it as a guiding factor in developing general relativity. A conjecture might be expressed as a puzzle, a question of "why?" or "how are these things related?"; the conjecture may even be silly, while the answer to the puzzle may be immensely important.
I believe a lot of crackpots fail by trying to provide explanations for what they don't understand. They could simply side-step the lack of understanding and provide conjectures that suggest that things are related without delving into the details of their mechanisms.
I should know not to dismiss a silly idea as worthless. The following is an idea I've mentioned before. If properly stated as a conjecture, it should allow for further development.
Preamble:
A point observer does not directly perceive distance. Distance is only extrapolated from multiple observations from different locations or times. A point observer essentially observes the universe as a 2-dimensional spherical surface around it.
The apparent size of an object (as observed visually via light) is inversely proportional to the square of the distance between object and observer. The gravitational attraction is also inversely proportional to the square of the distance. The conjecture is that the two are related according to some aspect of perception.
Or basically, it is not a coincidence that the perceived size of a mass is equal to the perceived gravitational pull. One must accept the measurement of "depth" (a third dimension that can make an object appear in size inversely proportional to the cube of the distance to the object) as unperceived or excluded from the definition of "observation".
Here's where I go back to typical crackpot science.
Time relativity suggests that time and distance might be pure fabrications of observation. They are an effect of perception, rather than an aspect of the physical nature of the universe. So it may be that the way we perceive the universe is entirely illusory. Further it may be that geometry (Euclidean geometry and possibly Cartesian coordinates) is a product of the same illusory effect.
We perceive the universe as such: Everything that is a distance of r away from me (the observer) lies on a sphere of radius r, where the area of the sphere is proportional to r2. Everything that is farther away from us exists on an imaginary sphere that is larger the farther it is from us. In a way, there is "more stuff" farther away from us. Also, the same object takes up proportionally less of a farther imaginary sphere, and since all of these spheres appear the same size to the observer (they each basically take up all of the observational area all around us), farther objects appear smaller and have less gravitational attraction.
The next step involves some complicated imagination, similar to trying to visualize extra spacial dimensions. I think that the true nature of the universe (its physical geometry, if it has one) is not at all like the observational reality, where everything can be described in terms of spheres that grow with distance. ... In conclusion, uh...
TO BE CONTINUED... ?
Monday, November 1, 2010
Gravity, how does it work? (And I don't wanna talk to a scientist)
Gravity is a mystery because it seems to be a "spooky" force acting from a distance. However, it can be explained as an effect of local spacetime (while the curvature of spacetime is affected by distant mass).
It is also weird because it seems to cause action in objects that might be completely at rest. However, nothing is ever completely at rest; it may only appear so on a macroscopic scale.
I submit for your consideration:
If you imagine watching this energy acting like a perpetually bouncing ball in a ventilation duct that widens toward the right, its oscillations will acquire a right-ward lean, and it begins bouncing to the right. It has rightward momentum, and meanwhile it is also curving more on each oscillation, and it accelerates. Stop its horizontal motion, and it will again begin to take on rightward momentum.
Rather than a force adding energy to a mass, gravity maintains the inertia of mass energy.
The more you know.
Note: The duct analogy is flawed because in it, the ball bends to the right on the bounces, while the "moving energy" it represents bends to the right while it is crossing space.
It is also weird because it seems to cause action in objects that might be completely at rest. However, nothing is ever completely at rest; it may only appear so on a macroscopic scale.
I submit for your consideration:
- All matter is made up of energy.
- Energy travels at the speed of light. Atoms consist of a nucleus with electrons continuously moving around it (oscillating) at the speed of light. The nucleus is made of energy that is also oscillating. No energy is at rest. Note: Since all motion is relative, does that mean that no energy is ever at rest relative to any other energy? That must mean something interesting...
- Mass curves spacetime. Light that crosses this spacetime appears to follow a curve, but essentially it is spacetime itself that is curved, and the light is following a "geodesic": a path that is "straight" along this curved space.
If you imagine watching this energy acting like a perpetually bouncing ball in a ventilation duct that widens toward the right, its oscillations will acquire a right-ward lean, and it begins bouncing to the right. It has rightward momentum, and meanwhile it is also curving more on each oscillation, and it accelerates. Stop its horizontal motion, and it will again begin to take on rightward momentum.
Rather than a force adding energy to a mass, gravity maintains the inertia of mass energy.
The more you know.
Note: The duct analogy is flawed because in it, the ball bends to the right on the bounces, while the "moving energy" it represents bends to the right while it is crossing space.
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