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Title: Why Physics
Author: William Gillis
Date: June 9th, 2015
Language: en
Topics: science
Source: http://humaniterations.net/2015/06/09/why-physics/

William Gillis

Why Physics

At some point my friends eventually feel compelled to ask me why, as an

anarchist, I would want to work as a theoretical physicist—rather than

say an AI researcher or a geneticist or a cryptographer or a materials

scientist or a restoration ecologist. Those are clearly high-impact

professions; developments in these fields can reshape the world, and

there is desperate need for more people to work in them.

The answer is simple: I want to make sure I’m right.

I’m really concerned that I might be wrong in some deep way that

matters. In a way that ends up hurting people or having a negative

effect I never predicted, or going against an unknown but better desire

that I might’ve otherwise developed. I could never just permanently lock

myself into some random project because it seemed like a good idea at

the time. I’m a due-diligence kinda person. Prior to being an anarchist,

prior to wanting to change the world in any particular direction, I am a

radical. And so my first allegiance is making sure I really am grasping

at the roots. That my values, desires and the strategies I might choose

aren’t predicated on a mistaken impression of the world in some deep

way.

A term that some AI researchers have adopted is the “ontological update

problem” and I think that phrase captures it perfectly. Your goals are

only ever expressible in terms of the map of the world you carry in your

head, and if that map is revealed as poorly matching the actual world

you are never entirely clear on how to proceed. It may well be that the

world is nothing like you thought, that the things you take to be

crystal clear are in fact absurdly murky, and the murky clear. It may be

that what you thought perfectly actionable is in fact not just

impossible but incoherent. Our picture of the world, of how it works and

what is possible, determines what values we gravitate towards, it

determines who we are. To give up on searching for a better map of the

world is to give up on improving yourself.

I could never exclusively dedicate my life to working on some random

tool or campaign, no matter how seemingly commonsensical or certain the

issue. Always at the back of my head would be scratching a ruthless

uncertainty. The infuriating and unrelenting knowledge that the

commitments of my life were an already-made gamble. I would be haunted

by the notion that if I revisited that gamble and thought about my

choice further I might evaluate things differently. I would feel

imprisoned by the having sunk too much into enacting a plan of action,

incapable of revising or updating the hasty assumptions and first

impressions that led to this avenue.

There are, of course, practically infinite things to doubt, to check, to

re-evaluate, to continually probe just to be a vigilant human being. You

will never hit them all up. But some issues are deeper than others, some

far more sweeping in their consequence.

What if everything we think we know about time or causality is wrong?

What if everything we think we know about complexity, about

consciousness, about energy, about the very parameters that so closely

guide and fence in what we consider to be possible, are wrong? How will

the universe end? What are the basic parameters that constrain all

possibilities? What does it mean to speak of “consequence” in an

infinite multiverse of a certain type? Is there a difference between

life and non-life? Etc. Etc. Etc. Sometimes huge ramifications spiral

out from even the most esoteric of mathematical questions.

Philosophy can map out a great many fundamental questions and

dependencies, but it can often only go so far and is quickly exhausted.

Theoretical physics is the first place we start to draw hesitant

answers, where a stray insight could change everything. I cannot imagine

a world where I am not drawn to it like a loadstone. Where the latest

big paper on AdS/CFT doesn’t pull at me with a raw nagging hunger. I am

fascinated by everything. In every subject I feel a needling pull to

explore, to check around every corner for another unforeseen cataclysmic

insight or jarringly missed piece, for just a little more of a map. But

physics is the frontier, the inescapable root.

It is also, of course, utterly beautiful, full of wondrous experiences

that almost cannot be described or compared, granting perspectives that

reveal entirely new colors at play in the world. The qualia of physics

and math, the richness, the crystal clarity, the complex humor of

someone’s proof, the overwhelming resonance of the revealed relations

and their potency at further exploration make sad jokes of all the cheap

fragmentary poetic or neural associations one can momentarily garner and

perhaps struggle to hold onto from drugs and religions. Trying to

explain this kind of experiential depth to those who have never even

glimpsed mathematics beyond arithmetic isn’t like explaining sex to a

preschooler, it’s like trying to explain the subjectivity of other

individuals’ knowledge to a toddler or self-awareness to an newborn. The

doors it opens to experiencing reality and the remarkable solidity of

the whole affair are not even fathomable beforehand. Once you taste

this, once you remember what such world-shattering and then

world-expansion feels like, when you realize that there could still be

yet more of them ahead… there is no ignoring it ever again.

Physics is where I finally fully satiate my yearning humility, and my

desperate need to never give up my agency in some foolhardy or naive

gamble. I am not a physicist because I’m an anarchist—because I want to

make the world a better place—if it was only so I might instead be

content to build cheaper solar panels or even train as a sniper. I am a

physicist because before any of that I care about getting things right.

Because I am a radical. Unlimited in audacity while driven by an

infinite humility that refuses to take anything for granted.

I am drawn to theoretical physics because I want to remain alive. I

don’t want to let the death to creep in anywhere, I don’t want to let

even just one tiny part of me permanently surrender to the putrid rot of

“good enough”.

And I suspect I would be less capable at fighting for a better world if

I was any other sort of person.

Sorry, is that too much to stick in a Statement of Purpose?