I think if you accept the premise that the machine somehow magically truly simulates perfectly and indistinguishably from actual reality, in such a way that there is absolutely no way of knowing the difference between the simulation and the outside universe, then the simulated universe is essentially isomorphic to reality, and we should be fully indifferent. I’m not sure it even makes sense to say either universe is more “real”, since they’re literally identical in every way that matters (for the differences we can’t observe even in theory, I appeal to Newton’s flaming laser sword). Our intuitions here should be closer to stepping into an identical parallel universe, rather than entering a simulation.
I see what you’re trying to get at here, but as stated I think this begs the question. You’re assuming here that the only ways universes could differ that would matter would be ways that have some impact on what we experience. People who accept the experience machine (let’s call them “non-experientialists) don’t agree. They (usually) think that whether we’re deceived, or whether our beliefs are actually true, can have some effect on how good our life is.
For example, consider two people whose lives are experientially identical, call them Ron and Edward. Ron lives in the real world, and has a wife and two children who love him, and whom he loves, and who are a big part of the reason he feels his life is going well. Edward lives in the experience machine. He has exactly the same experiences as Ron, and therefore also thinks he has a wife and children who love him. However, he doesn’t actually have a wife and children, just some experiences that make him think he has a wife and children (so of course “his wife and children” feel nothing for him, love or otherwise. Perhaps these experiences are created by simulations, but suppose the simulations are p-zombies who don’t feel anything). Non-experientialists would say that Ron’s life is better than Edward’s, because Edward is wrong about whether his wife and children love him (naturally, Edward would be devastated if he realized the situation he was in; it’s important to him that his wife and children love him, so if he found out they didn’t, he would be distraught). He won’t ever find this out, of course (since his life is experientially identical to Ron’s, and Ron will never find this out, since Ron doesn’t live in the experience machine). But the fact that, if he did, he would be distraught, and the fact that it’s true, seem to make a difference to how well his life goes, even though he will never actually find out. (Or at least, this is the kind of thing non-experientialists would say.)
(Note the difference between the way the experience machine is being used here and the way it’s normally used. Normally, the question is “would you plug in?” But here, the question is “are these two experientially-identical lives, one in the experience machine and one in the real world, equally as good as each other? Or is one better, if only ever-so-slightly?” See this paper for more discussion: Lin, “How to Use the Experience Machine”)
For a somewhat more realistic (though still pretty out-there) example, imagine Andy and Bob. Once again, Andy has a wife and children who love him. Bob also has a wife and children, and while they pretend to love him while he’s around, deep down his wife thinks he’s boring and his children think he’s tyrannical; they only put on a show so as not to hurt his feelings. Suppose Bob’s wife and children are good enough at pretending that they can fool him for his whole life (and don’t ever let on to anyone else who might let it slip). It seems like Bob’s life is actually pretty shitty, though he doesn’t know it.
Ultimately I’m not sure how I feel about these thought experiments. I can get the intuition that Edward and Bob’s lives are pretty bad, but if I imagine myself in their shoes, the intuition becomes much weaker (since, of course, if I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t know that “my” wife and children don’t love “me”). I’m not sure which of these intuitions, if either, is more trustworthy. But this is the kind of thing you have to contend with if you want to understand why people find the experience machine compelling.
I guess in that case I think what I’m doing is identifying the experience machine objection as being implied by Newton’s flaming lazer sword, which I have far stronger convictions on. For those who reject NFLS, then I guess my argument doesn’t really apply. However, at least I personally was in the category of people who firmly accept NFLS and also had reservations about the experience machine, so I don’t think this implication is trivial.
As for the Andy and Bob situation, I think that objections like that can be similarly dissolved, given an acceptance of NFLS. If Bob has literally absolutely no way of finding out whether his wife and children truly love him, if they act exactly in the way they would if they really did, then I would argue that whether or not they “really” love him is equally irrelevant by NFLS. Our intuitions in this case are guided by the fact that in reality, Potemkin villages almost always eventually fall apart.
I think the Bob example is very informative!
I think there’s an intuitive and logical reason why we think Bob and Edward are worse off. Their happiness is contingent on the masquerade continuing, which has a probability less than one in any plausible setup.
(The only exception to this would be if we’re analyzing their lives after they are dead)
I see what you’re trying to get at here, but as stated I think this begs the question. You’re assuming here that the only ways universes could differ that would matter would be ways that have some impact on what we experience. People who accept the experience machine (let’s call them “non-experientialists) don’t agree. They (usually) think that whether we’re deceived, or whether our beliefs are actually true, can have some effect on how good our life is.
For example, consider two people whose lives are experientially identical, call them Ron and Edward. Ron lives in the real world, and has a wife and two children who love him, and whom he loves, and who are a big part of the reason he feels his life is going well. Edward lives in the experience machine. He has exactly the same experiences as Ron, and therefore also thinks he has a wife and children who love him. However, he doesn’t actually have a wife and children, just some experiences that make him think he has a wife and children (so of course “his wife and children” feel nothing for him, love or otherwise. Perhaps these experiences are created by simulations, but suppose the simulations are p-zombies who don’t feel anything). Non-experientialists would say that Ron’s life is better than Edward’s, because Edward is wrong about whether his wife and children love him (naturally, Edward would be devastated if he realized the situation he was in; it’s important to him that his wife and children love him, so if he found out they didn’t, he would be distraught). He won’t ever find this out, of course (since his life is experientially identical to Ron’s, and Ron will never find this out, since Ron doesn’t live in the experience machine). But the fact that, if he did, he would be distraught, and the fact that it’s true, seem to make a difference to how well his life goes, even though he will never actually find out. (Or at least, this is the kind of thing non-experientialists would say.)
(Note the difference between the way the experience machine is being used here and the way it’s normally used. Normally, the question is “would you plug in?” But here, the question is “are these two experientially-identical lives, one in the experience machine and one in the real world, equally as good as each other? Or is one better, if only ever-so-slightly?” See this paper for more discussion: Lin, “How to Use the Experience Machine”)
For a somewhat more realistic (though still pretty out-there) example, imagine Andy and Bob. Once again, Andy has a wife and children who love him. Bob also has a wife and children, and while they pretend to love him while he’s around, deep down his wife thinks he’s boring and his children think he’s tyrannical; they only put on a show so as not to hurt his feelings. Suppose Bob’s wife and children are good enough at pretending that they can fool him for his whole life (and don’t ever let on to anyone else who might let it slip). It seems like Bob’s life is actually pretty shitty, though he doesn’t know it.
Ultimately I’m not sure how I feel about these thought experiments. I can get the intuition that Edward and Bob’s lives are pretty bad, but if I imagine myself in their shoes, the intuition becomes much weaker (since, of course, if I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t know that “my” wife and children don’t love “me”). I’m not sure which of these intuitions, if either, is more trustworthy. But this is the kind of thing you have to contend with if you want to understand why people find the experience machine compelling.
I guess in that case I think what I’m doing is identifying the experience machine objection as being implied by Newton’s flaming lazer sword, which I have far stronger convictions on. For those who reject NFLS, then I guess my argument doesn’t really apply. However, at least I personally was in the category of people who firmly accept NFLS and also had reservations about the experience machine, so I don’t think this implication is trivial.
As for the Andy and Bob situation, I think that objections like that can be similarly dissolved, given an acceptance of NFLS. If Bob has literally absolutely no way of finding out whether his wife and children truly love him, if they act exactly in the way they would if they really did, then I would argue that whether or not they “really” love him is equally irrelevant by NFLS. Our intuitions in this case are guided by the fact that in reality, Potemkin villages almost always eventually fall apart.
I think the Bob example is very informative! I think there’s an intuitive and logical reason why we think Bob and Edward are worse off. Their happiness is contingent on the masquerade continuing, which has a probability less than one in any plausible setup.
(The only exception to this would be if we’re analyzing their lives after they are dead)
Upvoted from 0. Why was it downvoted?