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Archive for the ‘whatis’ Category

What’s your Favorite Algorithm?

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011

A friend of mine suggested that as the one question he likes asking people he interviews for any kind of technology job. I think it’s a great question because it gets at an important characteristic of someone I would like to work with — passion and the depth of thought. Having a favorite algorithm requires you not only to know a bunch of algorithms, but also to have thought about them and used them enough to have an opinion. Just like a favorite song, your favorite algorithm is probably not going to be the one that everyone learns in their first year of CS education, or one that everyone uses every day. And knowing why it’s a favorite algorithm reveals a lot about how someone thinks about computing.

What’s your favorite algorithm?

Pi

Wednesday, December 29th, 2010

Why is pi equal to approximately 3.14?

Under what conditions would pi be less, or more than 3.14? What would the universe look like if pi was, say, 1? Is this question even meaningful?

It seems to me that this specific value of pi is a property of the Euclidean space which can be thought of as “flat” (the geometry of the plat piece of paper where angles in a triangle add up to 180 degrees), but that just prompts further questions. Why don’t we revisit the value of pi to account for the curvature of the geometry of our Universe? And is Euclidean geometry special at all? It comes about in a special way, with the introduction of the fifth postulate. But perhaps it’s no more special than some curved geometry and we should look for an explanation in how humans are constructed.

Before these questions can be answered (and some of them may have a decent explanation–here I am exposing my ignorance), I think an important thing to consider is what pi exactly measures and what relationships it plays a role in. For example, suppose that we can imagine a world where pi as given in some measure is equal to 1. Would that mean that every equation in that world that features pi can now safely substitute 1? Probably not — pi may happen to solve a lot of problems; both those that are based on some assumption that we can relax (such as the curvature of the geometry) and others that can’t be tweaked. Presumably, for example, all results that are non-geometric in nature that feature pi will not suddenly magically hold if we change the value of pi (in a way, pi would be no different than e, whose value is purely accidental).

Democracy

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

Democracy is an ingenious way of giving the masses an impression of power.

Introverts versus Extroverts

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

An Introvert conceals feelings. An Extrovert confuses them.

Wisdom

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

Wisdom is a stream of consequences of the decisions we’ve made.

What is Life

Wednesday, December 1st, 2010

Life is the awareness of existence, which is equivalent to mortality.

If we ever achieve immortality, there is a risk we will no longer be aware of our existence. We may cease to exist.

The Philosophy of Reductionism

Wednesday, November 17th, 2010

I’ve been longing to write this post. It describes most closely how I make sense of the world.

Throughout many posts, I’ve shown examples of some simple concepts that I think are fairly universal. Those concepts are related in a kind of hierarchy. For example, here are three concepts related to one another:

  • Change: change is good; it’s fundamental and more powerful than any of us; it happens all the time (despite our perception bias related to viewing things, for example history, in a very narrow way)
  • Cyclical behavior: a lot of the change the happens is cyclical (in fact, if one is to take an Occam’s razor view of things, the simplest change in nature is a cyclical one because of the balance that is held between many competing factors; or in math, the simplest function that changes all the time is a sine wave). New ideas are just permutations of old ideas; we often take diametrically opposite views and switch back and forth many times
  • Equivalence: things are instances of higher concepts; those who can see it (we call those people conceptual thinkers, can make more out of the world because they can take the specific things they learn everyday, convert them to learnings about the concepts, and then apply the concepts back to the specific.

If you take the concept of equivalence to its logical conclusion, you will realize that everything is related in some kind of hierarchy. In fact, this idea of recursively reducing concretes into concepts is a very powerful one — you can build an entire life philosophy on it. Let’s call it reductionism.

According to reductionism, you begin understanding that everyday complexity can be lessened by relating things to one another. In other words, by taking concrete things, creating equivalence classes of them by grouping them by which concepts they represent, and then grouping those concepts together, you can travel up that ladder where the concepts are few, simple, and very fundamental. The feeling of understanding the fundamentals of the world is a very satisfying feeling. It can also help you make decisions: start with the fundamental concepts, derive the consequences, and keep going until you get to the level of specificity you require. In a way, reductionism is a wonderful framework for knowing what to do, and it’s a wonderful way for you to feel connected to everything.

Of course, there is a trade-off implied in reductionism. The higher up the hierarchy you go, the bigger the distance between your thinking and everyday life. This means that to make specific decisions (and, operating in a very concrete world, we have to make specific decisions every minute of every day), you have to do a lot of thinking: derive a lot of information from the few highly conceptual ideas. While some people I know can do it very well and almost automatically, it seems to me that nature prepared us to deal with the concrete very well — by giving us relatively more scratch space (a kind of cache to keep the details in) than computational ability (there’s only so fast that we can derive these concepts). It probably makes sense, evolutionarily — when you’re chased by a predator, you want to be able to trust your intuition rather than re-derive the idea to jump on a tree from the concepts of survival, physics, and the physical characteristics of the predator.

There are other caveats too. There is more than one way to create a hierarchy of concepts, to reduce a set of things into a much smaller set of more abstract things. There is no right answer when it comes to the most fundamental concepts (after all, those are the different philosophies that, just like apples and oranges, cannot be compared) despite what people tell you. There is no canonical arrangement of all things in the known Universe in a hierarchy of concepts, although a poster that shows one example of such a thing would be a wonderful idea.

In other words, reductionism reshuffles the risk: from millions of tiny errors you could make in the realm of the concrete, to one humongous error you could make in the realm of the super-conceptual. A small difference in the definition of the concept at the very highest level propagates down the ladder in a nonlinear way and can produce an entirely different picture of the world (and thus can easily make you pick a totally opposite view to the one you had before the correction).

What if, despite these caveats, we want to reduce everything that’s around us to as few concepts as possible? At first it seems pretty easy. We reduce a lot of behavior to human nature; we reduce nature to evolution; we reduce the fabric of the Universe to a small set of rules. We reduce the different religions to one concept. Then we reduce the concept of religion and science. We reduce art to feeling (synthesis) and science to understanding (analysis).

In fact, I believe that we can reduce anything to a set of two concepts that are opposites. Above, synthesis and analysis are opposites. Many things can be reduced to good and evil. Other good opposites which things can be reduced to are change and stasis.

All these concepts are themselves an equivalence class. Let’s conveniently call them yin and yang. So we can reduce the infinite number of objects, ideas, thoughts, words into just two.

Then what? Can we reduce Two to One?

We can, but reducing Two to One is infinitely more difficult than reducing Infinity to Two.

The Theories of Time Travel

Friday, October 22nd, 2010

Let’s assume that what we all secretly hope for is true: that backwards time travel is possible (with a fast enough rocket you can travel forward in time already, thanks to Mr. Einstein). It’s unclear what such time travel would look like — there are many different theories and, consequently, interesting implications on the Universe, the existence of paradoxes, and the existence and the nature of time loops. Note that to help myself think through this, I have a human being travel in time; this may lead to inaccuracies and further questions — in most of the cases below, we can probably replace me with a photon, or even a quark, and get more precise results (“memory” becomes “momentum” or “spin”, etc.). But it’s more fun to think about people traveling in time.

  • Let’s first assume that there is only one version of the Universe.
    • If the links between causes and effects are not maintained, we have a consistent (paradox-free) time travel: moving backwards in time rewrites history and the previous version is lost. The I that travels back in time (call it I1) is not the same as the I that I1 meets in the past (I2). Whether I2 enters the time machine or not is irrelevant to I1. If I1 kills I2′s grandfather, I2 will not be born but I1 will not be affected in any way. It’s a very safe theory of time travel.
    • If the links between cause and effect are maintained (but their temporal relationship isn’t, necessarily), the Universe has to decide how to handle duplicates of matter/energy: it may choose to allow them, or not, or have an opinion somewhere in between.
      • If duplicates are allowed, I1 is identical to I2 but they are allowed to co-exist. If I1 prevents I2 from entering the time machine, I1 will cease to exist. What if I1 kill’s I2′s grandfather (who is also I1′s grandfather)?
        • It’s possible that I1 will simply not be able to do this — this is the theory where the Universe maintains its consistency (by making it prohibitively expensive — either by requiring you to put a lot of energy into your action or outright generating laws that locally forbid you to perform it), somewhat akin to what the writers of Lost did in the show. This energy-effect constrained time travel — the Universe not letting me kill my grandfather — is interesting. In order to maintain its consistency, the Universe would need to propagate all actions forward (“play them out”). If there is a sequence of actions that cause an inconsistency, the energy required to continue along this sequence would increase, proportionally to the probability of an inconsistency. It would be like an invisible magnetic field that steers actions in a particular direction. This could be implemented by a biased averaging out of quantum effects: let’s take light for example. We know that according to quantum theory, the movement of photons from A to B is realized through an infinite number of different paths which average out to a straight line. However, if the probabilities of the paths are different (due to the fact that some paths may cause an inconsistency in the future), the paths could actually average to something that’s not a straight line. To us it would seem that light travels in curved paths (without the presence of any “real” field, such a gravitational one)!

          Of course, these probabilities change gradually so no obviously apparent deviations from the norm would occur at first. For example, if I’m intending to kill my grandfather, the Universe will start steering me away from my intention through a small sequence of very likely events. If I persist in my intentions, the events increase in magnitude, but it’s possible (because there are just so many possible events that can influence me) that I will never realize my intention without even seeing anything strange with the Universe.

        • Otherwise, we have a phenomenon known as the Grandfather Paradox. I1 may create an unstable point in the spacetime: I1 (and thus I2, and the grandfather) will both exist and not exist at the same time, in a kind of macro-Shrödinger effect. What’s worse, anything that either was caused by I2 or the grandfather or would have been caused by I1 will also both exist and not exist. It’s unclear what effect this will have on the rest of the Universe — as these effects ripple through time, they expand their scope (the events that the grandfather caused themselves caused other events) but decrease their magnitude (think of it as a sound wave propagating through space, maybe bouncing off objects).
          • It’s possible that over time, as soon as they become small enough to be captured by quantum uncertainty, they stabilize so the ripple has a finite size (I can’t visualize what the ripple would actually look like, maybe a really fast-flashing grandfather).
          • Or the Universe could cease to exist.
      • If duplicates of matter/energy are not allowed, I1 would need to replace I2 (for this to work, the Universe would somehow need to have a unique identifier for everything in it). It’s difficult to think about replacing something complex like a human being because he or she is made of many building blocks, each having a different identifier, so let’s simplify and think of something that consists of a single block (say, a photon). The photon would replace its version from the past. Does this photon have “memory”, that is, its future state?
        • If so, the photon will likely change its course (behave differently than I1 did). This may mean that I2 may never end up traveling in time, but that’s fine because there is only version of it. This is equivalent to the theory of rewritten history.
        • If not, I1 simply merges into I2 — I2 enters a time loop which it will never be able to leave. It’s not aware of that, however, so to I1, the time travel ends its consciousness.

        If somehow we can maintain this option at a macro scale, it’s possible that an individual may travel back in time and maintain his or her memory, provided that the interval of time travel is small (for example, if I1 travels back to before I2 was born, I1–an individual–would have to replace a bunch of particles which aren’t even part of a human being. That will very likely result either in the destruction of I2–I2 will not be possible given the new state that all of its particles will have assumed before they created it–or in the destruction of I1–the “memory” that each particle has will be insignificant and so I1′s consciousness will end as soon as he travels in time)

      • Another way not to allow duplicates would be for I1 and I2 to “swap” places: as soon as I1 travels backwards in time, it takes I2′s place and I2 takes I1′s place in the future. When I1 gets to the time when it first traveled in time, he ceases to exist. There is no paradox because time travel transfers both I1 and I2. It doesn’t matter whether I1 actually enters the time machine the second time around or not, because his existence ceases past that point anyway.
      • Finally, the Universe may choose some option in between, for example, I1 and I2 will be entangled in a way that doesn’t increase entropy. This may look like a kind of constrained time travel, where paradoxes are not possible because they are prevented by the entanglement of I1 and I2 (in other words, I1′s and I2′s actions will either make both of them survive the interval of their co-existence, or make them both self-destruct. At the event of time travel, I2 goes back and I1 is the only entity remaining.

        This brings me to an interesting idea: what if time travel and quantum theory are actually one and the same? What if the time interval where I1 exists in the past (and influences outcomes) is equivalent to the cat being both alive and dead: it cannot be inspected, and nothing can be said about what happened or what any of the outcome that I1 could have influenced was. The instant at which I1 entered the time machine would then correspond to the box being open — we find out what all those outcomes were.

  • Now let’s suppose there are many versions of the Universe. This is similar to the first case (rewriting history) but if the Universe bifurcates with every time travel, an awful lot of energy is needed to do time travel. Alternatively, the Universe may already exist in its virtually infinite forms, each form corresponding to a different possible unfolding of an event. We know from Newton that at a high level the world seems deterministic, but at a quantum level it’s not — this randomness I see as a basis for the different unfolding of the events (hence, once and for all answering the problem of free will: there is no free will, but there is also no determinism — what we perceive as “choosing” is just a particular folding up of all the quantum uncertainties). So every time we put a cat in a box, there are Universes in which the cat is dead and Universes in which it’s alive. We know which path we’re on as soon as we open the box. Time travel would then simply be an opportunity to follow a different path.

There is one problem with many of the sub-theories above, and that is a problem of the sudden injection of matter/energy. It couldn’t have been created from nothing. It’s possible that as this new matter/energy is injected, some other matter/energy is transferred into the future (where the travel originated). Possibly an arrangement such as one in Primer is needed where travel is only possible to a limited point in time, where all the prep work has been done, for example enough energy has been set aside to be “displaced” by the newly arriving energy. It may also be that the time travel portal has a standby energy consumption — it consumes energy at some rate, like a leaking pipe, all the time — this would allow energy of at most that rate to be transferred from the future.

Another way to solve the sudden injection problem is to borrow me for the duration of the time travel episode from the time chronologically after the event of time travel. That is, if in the year 2010 I go back to the year 2005, my extra existence for five years between 2005 and 2010 will be borrowed from what would have been my existence between 2010 and 2015. In other words, as soon as I reach the year 2010 the second time around, I jump to the year 2015. This is a kind of quantum entanglement, but not of I1 and I2, but rather of I1 and the future version of I1.

Faith

Thursday, October 14th, 2010

Nothing has been more polarizing in conversations than faith — or, more often, conflicts between members of different religions. I will try to unite everyone now (or make everyone just as angry). I believe we are simply thinking about faith narrowly, which causes all the disagreement.

First, let me identify the most fundamental concept of a belief: a statement that an individual makes that that individual considers to be true (and as such, uses as a basis of decision-making), a conclusion about reality as we perceive it. Beliefs don’t have to be axiomatic (I can believe in something that someone else could prove to be derived from another, more fundamental truth) or even consistent (since we don’t mechanistically apply our beliefs to our life, inconsistencies can persist without any day-to-day conflicts). We all have beliefs at a variety of levels — from a set of grand ones (“I believe that I will be reborn after I die”) to tiny ones (“I believe I deserved that cake”). Sometimes belief is thought of as a conclusion that can be understood or known (as opposed to one that one can only place hope in), but I’ll define is as the broader concept.

There are some concepts that derive from belief that will be useful here. Spirituality is a belief in the immaterial. What is immaterial changes over time (before the discovery of magnetism, the force with which two magnets attract each other could be seen as of spiritual origins); spirituality also takes many forms, from abstract (an invisible energy field that permeates every human being) to specific (ghosts). Faith is a set of beliefs internal to each person that deal with the unknowable.

Finally, religion is an institution that proposes a particular framework around faith.

Of all these concepts I think faith is the most interesting one. What is “the unknowable”? In my view it’s precisely the set of statements that no logical person will be able to confirm or refute. For example, “There is life after death” is unknowable — there is no logic that includes the axioms that define the words “life”, “death”, “existence”, and “afterness” that can prove the statement. “2 and 2 is 5″ is not unknowable, because a logical person can prove that given the definitions of “2″, “addition”, “equivalence” and “5″, the statement is false (interestingly, as Gödel showed, there exist statements that are undecidable so they could theoretically form a basis for someone’s faith).

A crucially important property of faith is that it’s personal, and, more importantly, one person’s faith cannot in any way be compared to another person’s faith. Specifically, one person’s religion cannot be superior to another person’s religion because religions are organized around the idea of faith, which is only applicable to a particular individual. Obviously, in reality religions as just institutions and so they employ a variety of devices — competitive differentiation (or, in the extreme, instilling hate of other religions) being one of them in their plight for survival, and there is nothing surprising about it unless a religion becomes too powerful (and just like institutions, monopolies can have a very negative effect) or becomes a device in the hands of, say, a government (in which case it’s likely abuse of power).

Faith is also universal. Everyone puts faith in something, because our observations very quickly lead us to the unknowable. We don’t have to go very far either — while you may believe in the current model of the Universe (it’s expanding and finite, by the way), it’s still a model and no logical person can prove it’s a complete model. Furthermore, as of today no logical person can tell why it’s that model and not any other model. It’s a common fallacy of many intelligent people to assume that a belief in the current model of the Universe (or even in the scientific method itself) has nothing to do with faith — after all, science cannot prove the model is right; it can only prove that it’s wrong.

In a way, then, we could create an equivalence of all systems of faith — they all serve the same purpose, they are incomparable, and they are universal. It doesn’t matter what a person’s faith is. They are all the same.

If people didn’t organize themselves in religions, there would be much less conflict since discussing one’s faith is harder and looks more like trying to compare apples to oranges. However, just like people organize themselves in nations, they will organize themselves in religions because of strong community-based synergies (mostly good ones — a strong support network, a strong shared moral context making the society safer as a whole, institutional memory). I wouldn’t be surprised, however, in the age of the rising individualism made possible through the vast improvements in efficiency (I wouldn’t be surprised if we could create our own religion online) if more people converted away from their religions and into the more fundamental (and thus personalizable) faith systems.

What is Intelligence (part II)

Sunday, October 10th, 2010

Let me try something dangerous and talk about intelligence without really defining it; there are many different kinds of intelligence and the arguments here will hold for most definitions I can think of. The necessary requirement is that intelligence is an emergent property of individuals (not necessarily humans; not even necessarily biological life forms but for now constrained to life forms in general–in the sense of mutating auto-replication and pursuit of survival) that allows them to adapt to changing conditions on an intra-generational scale (evolution, for example, is a mechanism for adaptation on an inter-generational scale). I believe (though, quite frankly, haven’t thought hard about it) this is sufficient to go on.

Is intelligence a necessary artifact of evolution? To expand on this, what set of circumstances make intelligence a much more desirable trait than other traits, and how likely is intelligence to emerge? Evolution deals with randomness — it’s a greedy random walk, favoring changes that increase the species’ chance of survival. What makes intelligence better than, say, a stronger set of legs? I have two theories. First, as life forms evolve and strengthen their physical characteristics, it becomes inefficient to continue the physical growth; either it leads to massive energy needs which begin to outweigh the individual’s abilities to gather food, or it leads to side effects inherent in the mechanics of a body (stronger legs may lead to worse injuries). Evolution, essentially, runs out of avenues to pursue and non-physical development becomes the most energy-efficient. Secondly (now I realize the two theories are related), evolution’s greatest limitation is its speed — it must act over generations; and with complex enough organisms the generation cannot be very short. If the natural circumstances favor quick adaptability (for example, a series of ice ages come and go too quickly for any single species to evolve around them), evolution must replace itself with intelligence.

Of course, I may be wrong and intelligence could just be a fluke.

Regardless, if I wanted to have a particular characteristic evolve, I could manufacture a world which favors that characteristic and watch nature come up with it through a process of evolution. In the extreme, if all I had was plants and wanted the species to be able to walk, I would provide incentives for the plants to displace themselves (maybe an ever-moving source of food). Early species will probably simply grow fast, or maybe have the ability to detach themselves from the soil and attach themselves back, propelled by wind. Ultimately species would develop self-propulsion (I could help them by providing a negative incentive to simply go where the wind takes them). Nature would “cheat” and use water as an interim medium — it’s easier to be able to walk if you are already swimming — and so we can see how ultimately we would have species able to walk.

Similarly, what would I have to do to favor intelligence?

I did make an assumption that the life form evolves, that is, life replicates itself (a “species” composed of a single individual that doesn’t die cannot evolve) with mutations between successive generations. In order for evolution (that is, a long-term progression) to take place, there must be survival of the fittest, and with it, the favoring of life to non-life by the individuals. That second assumption is interesting because I’m not quite sure how it came about and why it holds true for species. With intelligent species such as humans you could make an argument that the will to live is an outcome of consciousness — a constantly running narrative of our life, created thanks to the development of memory and the ability to make connections (non-intelligent species have memory but they can’t connect it into a narrative) — but for all other species, it’s not so black-and-white.

It’s, obviously, just as fascinating to talk about why intelligence exists as how it exists — I think that we tend to focus too much on the latter and not enough on the former (and the theories above are just a small step towards that thought). But, on the how, we can learn a lot just by drawing a parallel between it and other non-mental features of evolution. Intelligence requires the environment — and with it sensory inputs and the feedback element with the environment. Intelligence is a wonderful example of a (relatively — all purists calm down) binary characteristic that nevertheless came about gradually from non-intelligence (just as flight came from non-flight; the outcome is clearly distinct but it’s not immediately clear how non-flight evolved into flight).