I’m inclined to look at the blunt limitations of bandwidth on this one. The first hurdle is that p(doom) can pass through tweets and shouted conversations in bay area house parties.
ryan_b
I also think he objects to putting numbers on things, and I also avoid doing it. A concrete example: I explicitly avoid putting numbers on things in LessWrong posts. The reason is straightforward—if a number appears anywhere in the post, about half of the conversation in the comments will be on that number to the exclusion of the point of the post (or the lack of one, etc). So unless numbers are indeed the thing you want to be talking about, in the sense of detailed results of specific computations, they are positively distracting from the rest of the post for the audience.
I focused on the communication aspect in my response, but I should probably also say that I don’t really track what the number is when I actually go to the trouble of computing a prior, personally. The point of generating the number is clarifying the qualitative information, and then the point remains the qualitative information after I got the number; I only really start paying attention to what the number is if it stays consistent enough after doing the generate-a-number move that I recognize it as being basically the same as the last few times. Even then, I am spending most of my effort on the qualitative level directly.I make an analogy to computer programs: the sheer fact of successfully producing an output without errors weighs much more than whatever the value of the output is. The program remains our central concern, and continuing to improve it using known patterns and good practices for writing code is usually the most effective method. Taking the programming analogy one layer further, there’s a significant chunk of time where you can be extremely confident the output is meaningless; suppose you haven’t even completed what you already know to be minimum requirements, and compile the program anyway, just to test for errors so far. There’s no point in running the program all the way to an output, because you know it would be meaningless. In the programming analogy, a focus on the value of the output is a kind of “premature optimization is the root of all evil” problem.
I do think this probably reflects the fact that Eliezer’s time is mostly spent on poorly understood problems like AI, rather than on stable well-understood domains where working with numbers is a much more reasonable prospect. But it still feels like even in the case where I am trying to learn something that is well-understood, just not by me, trying for a number feels opposite the idea of hugging the query, somehow. Or in virtue language: how does the number cut the enemy?
I can’t speak for Eliezer, but I can make some short comments about how I am suspicious of thinking in terms of numbers too quickly. I warn you beforehand my thoughts on the subject aren’t very crisp (else, of course, I could put a number on them!)
Mostly I feel like emphasizing the numbers too much fails to respect the process by which we generate them in the first place. When I go as far as putting a number on it, the point is to clarify my beliefs on the subject; it is a summary statistic about my thoughts, not the output of a computation (I mean it technically is, but not a legible computation process we can inspect and/or maybe reverse). The goal of putting a number on it, whatever it may be, is not to manipulate the number with numerical calculations any more than the goal of writing an essay to is grammatically manipulate the concluding sentence, in my view.Through the summary statistic analogy, I think that I basically disagree with the idea of numbers providing a strong upside in clarity. While I agree that numbers as a format are generally clear, they are only clear as far as that number goes—they communicate very little about the process by which they were reached, which I claim is the key information we want to share.
Consider the arithmetic mean. This number is perfectly clear, insofar as it means there are some numbers which got added together and then divided by how many numbers were summed. Yet this tells us nothing about how many numbers there were, or what the values of the numbers themselves were, or how wide the range of numbers was, or what the possible values were; there are infinitely many variations behind just the mean. It is also true going from no number at all to a mean screens out infinitely many possibilities, and I expect that infinity is substantially larger than the number of possibilities behind any given average. I feel like the crux of my disagreement with the idea of emphasizing numbers is people who endorse them strongly look at the number of possibilities eliminated in the step of going from nothing to an average and think “Look at how much clarity we have gained!” whereas I look at the number of possibilities remaining and think “This is not clear enough to be useful.”
The problem gets worse when numbers are used to communicate. Supposing two people meet in a Bay Area House Party and tell each other their averages. If they both say “seven,” they’ll probably assume they agree, even though it is perfectly possible for the average of what to have literally zero overlap. This is the point at which numbers turn actively misleading, in the literal sense that before they exchanged averages they at least knew they knew nothing, and after exchanging averages they wrongly conclude they agree.
Contrast this with a more practical and realistic case where we might get two different answers on something like probabilities from a data science question. Because it’s a data science question we are already primed to ask questions about the underlying models and the data to see why the numbers are different. We can of course do the same with the example about averages, but in the context of the average even giving the number in the first place is a wasted step because we gain basically nothing until we have the data information (where the sum-of-all-n-divided-by-n is the model). By contrast, in the data science question we can reasonably infer that the models will be broadly similar, and that if they aren’t that information by itself likely points to the cruxes between them. As a consequence, getting the direct numbers is still useful; if two data science sources give very similar answers, they likely do agree very closely.
In sum, we collectively have gigantic uncertainty about the qualitative questions of models and data for whether AI can/will cause human extinction. I claim the true value of quantifying our beliefs, the put-a-number-on-it mental maneuver, is clarifying the qualitative questions. This is also what we really want to be talking about with other people. The trouble is the number we have put on all of this internally is what we communicate but does not contain the process for generating the number, and then the conversation invariably becomes about the numbers, and in my experience this actively obscures the key information we want to exchange.
I suspect DeepSeek is unusually vulnerable to the problem of switching hardware because my expectation for their cost advantage fundamentally boils down to having invested a lot of effort in low-level performance optimization to reduce training/inference costs.
Switching the underlying hardware breaks all this work. Further, I don’t expect the Huawei chips to be as easy to optimize as the Nvidia H-series, because the H-series are built mostly the same way as Nvidia has always built them (CUDA), and Huawei’s Ascend is supposed to be a new architecture entirely. Lots of people know CUDA; only Huawei’s people know how the memory subsystem for Ascend works.
If I am right, it looks like they got hurt by bad timing this round same way as they benefited from good timing last round.
From that experience, what do you think of the learning value of being in a job you are not qualified for? More specifically, do you think you learned more from being in the job you weren’t qualified for than you did in in other jobs that matched your level better?
My days of not taking that person seriously sure are coming to a middle.
I commonly make a similar transition that I describe as task orientation versus time orientation.
The transition happens when there is some project where there seems to some number of tasks to do and I expect it to be done (or get that step done, or whatever). This expectation then turns out to be wrong, usually because the steps fail directly or I didn’t have enough information about what needed to be done. Then I will explicitly switch to time orientation, which really just means that I will focus on making whatever progress is possible within the time window, or until complete.
One difference is that my experience isn’t sorted by problem difficulty per se. I mean it correlates with problem difficulty, but the real dividing line is how much attention I expected it to require versus how much it wound up requiring. Therefore it is gated by my behavior beforehand rather than by being a Hard Problem.
Counterintuitively I find time-orientation to be a very effective method of getting out of analysis paralysis. This seems like a difference to me because the “time to do some rationality” trigger associates heavily with the deconfusion class of analytical strategies (in my mind). I suspect the underlying mechanism here is that analysis in the context of normal problems is mainly about efficiency, but the more basic loop of action-update-action-update is consistently more effective when information is lacking.
I think there’s something to time orientation having the notion of bash-my-face-against-the-problem-to-gather-information-about-it which makes it more effective than analysis for me a lot of the time because it has the information gathering step built in explicitly, whereas my concepts of analysis are still mostly just received from the subjects where I picked them up, leaving them in separate buckets. This makes me vulnerable to the problem of using the wrong analytical methods because almost all presentations of analysis assume the information being analyzed, and I have a limited sense of the proverbial type signature as a result.
Ah, but is it a point-in-time sidegrade with a faster capability curve in the future? At the scale we are working now, even a marginal efficiency improvement threatens to considerably accelerate at least the conventional concerns (power concentration, job loss, etc).
So what happens when you move towards empathy with people you are more aligned with in the first place? Around here, for example?
No matter how much I try, I just cannot force myself to buy the premise of replacement of human labor as a reasonable goal. Consider the apocryphal quote:
If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses. –Henry Ford
I’m clearly in the wrong here, because every CEO who talks about the subject talks about faster horses[1], and here we have Mechanize whose goal is to build faster horses, and here is the AI community concerned about the severe societal impacts of digital horse shit.
Why, exactly, are all these people who are into accelerating technical development and automation of the economy working so hard at cramming the AI into the shape of a horse?- ^
For clarity, faster horses here is a metaphor for the AI just replacing human workers at their existing jobs.
- ^
How do we count specialized language? By this I mean stuff like technical or scientific specialties, which are chock-full of jargon. The more specialized they are, the less they share with related topics. I would expect we do a lot more jargon generating now than before, and jargon words are mostly stand-ins for entire paragraphs (or longer) of explanation.
Related to jargon: academic publishing styles. Among other things, academic writing style is notorious for being difficult for outsiders to penetrate, and making no accommodation for the reader at all (even the intended audience). I have the sense that papers in research journals have almost evolved in the opposite direction, all though I note my perception is based on examples of older papers with an excellent reputation, which is a strong survivorship bias. Yet those papers were usually the papers that launched new fields of inquiry; it seems to me they require stylistic differences like explaining intuitions because the information is not there otherwise.
Unrelated to the first two, it feels like we should circle back to the relationship between speaking and writing. How have sentences and wordcount fared when spoken? We have much less data for this because it requires recording devices, but I seem to recall this being important to settling the question of whether the Iliad could be a written-down version of oral tradition. The trick there was they recorded some bards in Macedonia in the early 20th century performing their stories, transcribed the recordings, and then found them to be of comparable length to Homer. Therefore, oral tradition was ruled in.
Good fiction might be hard, but that doesn’t much matter to selling books. This thing is clearly capable of writing endless variations on vampire romances, Forgotten Realms or Magic the Gathering books, Official Novelization of the Major Motion Picure X, etc.
Writing as an art will live. Writing as a career is over.
And all of this will happen far faster than it did in the past, so people won’t get a chance to adapt. If your job gets eliminated by AI, you won’t even have time to reskill for a new job before AI takes that one too.
I propose an alternative to speed as explanation: all previous forms of automation were local. Each factory had to be automated in bespoke fashion one at a time; a person could move from a factory that was automated to any other factory that had not been yet. The automation equipment had to be made some somewhere and then moved to where the automation was happening.
By contrast, AI is global. Every office on earth can be automated at the same time (relative to historical timescales). There’s no bottleneck chain where the automation has to be deployed to one locality, after being assembled in a different locality, from parts made in many different localities. The limitations are network bandwidth and available compute, both of which are shared resource pools and complements besides.
I like this effort, and I have a few suggestions:
Humanoid robots are much more difficult than non-humanoid ones. There are a lot more joints than in other designs; the balance question demands both more capable components and more advanced controls; as a consequence of the balance and shape questions, a lot of thought needs to go into wrangling weight ratios, which means preferring more expensive materials for lightness, etc.
In terms of modifying your analysis, I think this cashes out as greater material intensity—the calculations here are done by weight of materials, we just need a way to account for the humanoid robot requiring more processing on all of those materials. We could say something like 1500kg of humanoid robot materials take twice as much processing/refinement as 1500kg of car materials (occasionally this will be about the same; for small fractions of the weight it will be 10x the processing, etc).
The humanoid robots are more vulnerable to bottlenecks than cars. Specifically they need more compute and rare earth elements like neodymium, which will be tough because that supply chain is already strained by new datacenters and AI demands.
- 11 Feb 2025 21:00 UTC; 2 points) 's comment on How AI Takeover Might Happen in 2 Years by (
This is a fun idea! I was recently poking at field line reconnection myself, in conversation with Claude.
I don’t think the energy balance turns out in the idea’s favor. Here are the heuristics I considered:The first thing I note is what happens during reconnection: a bunch of the magnetic energy turns into kinetic and thermal energy. The part you plan to harvest is just the electric field part. Even in otherwise ideal circumstances, that’s a substantial loss.
The second thing I note is that in a fusion reactor, the magnetic field is already being generated by the device, via electromagnets. This makes the process look like putting current into a magnetic field, then to break the magnetic field in order to get less current back out (because of the first note).
The third thing I note is that reconnection is about the reconfiguration of the magnetic field lines. I’m highly confident that electric fields when the lines break define how the lines reconnect, so if you induct all the energy out the reconnection will look different than would have. Mostly this would cash out as a weaker magnetic field than it would be otherwise, driving more recharging of the magnetic field, making the balance worse.
All of that being said, Claude and ChatGPT both respond well to sanity checking. You can say directly something like: “Sanity check: is this consistent with thermodynamics?”
I also think that ChatGPT misleadingly treated the magnetic fields and electric fields as being separate because it was using an ideal MHD model, where this is common due to the simplifications the model makes. In my experience at least Claude catches a lot of confusion and oversights by asking specifically about the differences between the physics and the model.
Regarding The Two Cultures essay:
I have gained so much buttressing context from reading dedicated history about science and math that I have come around to a much blunter position than Snow’s. I claim that an ahistorical technical education is technically deficient. If a person reads no history of math, science, or engineering than they will be a worse mathematician, scientist, or engineer, full stop.
Specialist histories can show how the big problems were really solved over time.[1] They can show how promising paths still wind up being wrong, and the important differences between the successful method and the failed one. They can show how partial solutions relate to the whole problem. They can show how legendary genius once struggled with the same concepts that you now struggle with.
- ^
Usually—usually! As in a majority of the time! - this does not agree with the popular narrative about the problem.
- ^
I would like to extend this slightly by switching perspective to the other side of the coin. The drop-in remote worker is not a problem of anthropomorphizing AI, so much as it is anthropomorphizing the need in the first place. Companies create roles with the expectation people will fill them, but that is the habit of the org, not the threshold of the need.
Adoption is being slowed down considerably by people asking for AI to be like a person, so we can ask that person to do some task. Most companies and people are not asking more directly for an AI to meet a need. Figuring out how to do that is a problem to solve by itself, and there hasn’t been much call for it to date.
Why don’t you expect AGIs to be able to do that too?
I do, I just expect it to take a few iterations. I don’t expect any kind of stable niche for humans after AGI appears.
I agree that the economic principles conflict; you are correct that my question was about the human labor part. I don’t even require that they be substitutes; at the level of abstraction we are working in, it seems perfectly plausible that some new niches will open up. Anything would qualify, even if it is some new-fangled job title like ‘adaptation engineer’ or something that just preps new types of environments for teleoperation before moving onto the next environment like some kine of meta railroad gang. In this case the value of human labor might stay sustainably high in terms of total value, but the amplitude of the value would sort of slide into the few AI relevant niches.
I think this cashes out as Principle A winning out and Principal B winning out looking the same for most people.
Boiling this down for myself a bit, I want to frame this as a legibility problem: we can see our own limitations, but outsiders successes are much more visible than their limitations.