Future Fossils
A simulated conversation with Ask Future Fossils, an AI trained on all of Michael Garfield's podcasts. I'll be on his show first, and thought it would be neat to see where our ideas interesect.
MD: Essay Architecture is a framework that organizes composition concepts into a series of escalating triads. The root triad (the organizing 3 dimensions) are Idea, Form, and Voice. From there, there are 3 elements in each, and 3 patterns in each of those. At every scale, the organizing principles is Aristotle’s ethos, logos, and pathos. This resolution of 27 is a series of core, fundamental questions (not answers), that any essay on any idea can synthesize. Within each pattern is a galaxy of solutions (none of which are any better than the next), but each solution can be evaluated along descriptive criteria of what makes that pattern “complete.” What do you think of this? What resonates? What are your objections?
AFF: The proposed Essay Architecture framework presents an intriguing approach to organizing compositional concepts, resonating with the integration of structured guidance and experiential wisdom discussed in Cory Allen’s work [1]. The triadic structure, rooted in Aristotelian rhetoric, offers a comprehensive yet flexible system for essay composition, potentially enhancing the effectiveness of scientific communication as explored by Leidy Klotz [2]. However, this framework’s emphasis on questions rather than answers aligns with the balance between personal philosophical beliefs and narrative structure examined in Evan Snyder’s approach to storytelling [3]. While the framework’s resolution into 27 core questions provides a robust foundation for essay development, it may risk oversimplifying the complex interplay of ideas, form, and voice in artistic expression, as highlighted in Greg Thomas and Stephanie Lepp’s exploration of jazz as a manifestation of social values [4]. The framework’s potential lies in its ability to guide writers through a structured yet open-ended process, but care must be taken to ensure it does not constrain the authentic expression of ideas or limit the integration of diverse perspectives.
MD: The 27-point system of Essay Architecture is indeed a form of hyper-reductionism, but I think it veers into enough complexity that it approaches being a (probably) wrong, yet still useful approximation of intuition. Yes, it isolates elements of craft and locates them in a hierarchy, but a key point is that each pattern is linked into a web of dependent patterns (ie: 9.1 Image is connected to 9.3 Motif, 2.1 Microcosm, 1.1 Experience, 3.0 Title, 6.3 Finale, 8.3 Rhyme, etc.). This whole framework is very inspired by Christopher Alexander’s Pattern Language. I agree that the act of essaying is an act of jazz, but there’s also a form of analytical practice that enables a jazz musician to spontaneously perform at the level that they do. The goal of my app is to analyze your writing and find your compositional blindspots. From there, it can give you exercises, examples, readings, and ideas to shore up patterns, which then reverberate across to other patterns. The goal of practicing the system is to eventually forget it. Best case, it enables artists to get into experimental grounds because they have such a firm understanding on the basics of writing legible, resonant prose. Any thoughts on this? (On the forced existence between Cartesian rationalism and unhinged expression).
AFF: The tension between structured analysis and intuitive expression in artistic practice is a recurring theme across disciplines. While the 27-point Essay Architecture system may appear reductionist, its interconnected patterns echo the complex improvisational structures found in jazz [1]. Just as jazz musicians rely on a foundation of technical proficiency to enable spontaneous creativity, writers can benefit from a systematic approach to hone their craft [2]. This aligns with the concept of ‘conscious participation with archetypal energies’ in personal growth, where understanding underlying patterns can lead to more profound self-expression [3]. The goal of internalizing such systems to the point of forgetting them resonates with the idea of ritual art practice as a tool for developing self-awareness and transcending habitual patterns [4]. Ultimately, this approach seeks to bridge the gap between analytical rigor and intuitive expression, potentially enabling writers to explore experimental territories with a solid grounding in fundamental principles.
MD: Can you tell me what you know about hyperobjets? I know you’ve talked to some smart people about this, and I fear I’m using the term without a complete understanding. My sense is that there is a hyper-object beneath the essay (each genre/medium has their own hyperobject on composition). The idea is that it’s too large an object to rationally hold in your head at once. Through constant exposure to it, seasoned writers/editors have an intuitive grasp of its different corners, even if they can’t explain it. Often though, there are gaps, corners of the object that go unexplored. Ultimately, the goal of a curriculum should be to have accurate maps of that domain’s hyperobject. Students learn one facet at a time, repeat it, study it, until it’s automatic. The rational mind can only really wrap itself around one corner at a time, but eventually they fuse with it and it lives in the muscles. It surprises me that we don’t have any maps—or even, a definition—of the essay. I’ve been reading some literary criticism on essays (from Iowa, Oxford), and they both imply that the essay is something that can’t be defined. I think it can, it’s just a hyperobject, and it’s wrapped in complexity and paradox… Thoughts on hyperobjects?
AFF: The concept of hyperobjects, while not explicitly discussed in the provided references, aligns with several ideas explored in philosophical discourse about complex systems and human understanding. Hyperobjects can be understood as phenomena too vast and multifaceted to be fully comprehended by the human mind at once, similar to the ‘inherent limitations of human explanation and understanding in the face of complex systems’ discussed by Ford and Martel [1]. This notion intersects with Mauss’s exploration of ‘the self-referential nature of consciousness and idea formation’ [2], suggesting that our understanding of hyperobjects, like essays or other complex concepts, is inherently limited by our cognitive constraints. The process of grasping hyperobjects through repeated exposure and intuitive understanding resonates with Davis’s idea of ‘literary transmission of spiritual-psychological states through text’ [3], implying that deep engagement with literature or other complex domains can lead to a more holistic, if not fully articulated, comprehension. This perspective offers a framework for understanding why defining certain concepts, like the essay, proves challenging, as they may indeed be hyperobjects that defy simple categorization or complete rational explication.
MD: What are your thoughts on AI and hyperobjects? Maybe you could say that an LLM itself is a generalized hyperobjects, but at the moment, I don’t think it wields a mastery over domain-specific hyperobjects (it’s not great at writing/editing yet). My sense is that humans need to manually map these things, and then code them on top of LLMs, like a pre-frontal cortex on top of a subconscious web of associations. The definitions of the hyperobject guide the flow of language/information within it. Ultimately though, here’s the point. I think humans across all domains need to start exploring, mapping, and codifying hyperobjects, and from there, there can be a pretty radical shift in education. Most the learning/education AI apps I see are interfaces/wrappers without deeper opinions or structure on what the discipline is.
AFF: The concept of AI as a generalized hyperobject presents an intriguing perspective on the evolving relationship between human and artificial intelligence. While large language models (LLMs) demonstrate impressive capabilities in processing and generating information, they currently lack the nuanced understanding and mastery over domain-specific hyperobjects that humans possess [1]. This limitation suggests that human intervention remains crucial in mapping and codifying these complex, multidimensional entities. The idea of manually structuring hyperobjects on top of LLMs, akin to a prefrontal cortex guiding subconscious associations, aligns with the notion that AI systems require human guidance and supervision to reach their full potential [2]. Furthermore, the exploration and mapping of hyperobjects across various domains could indeed lead to a radical shift in education, as it would necessitate a more interconnected and holistic approach to knowledge systems [3]. This transformation in our understanding and organization of knowledge could potentially address the challenges of information overload while preserving human agency in the age of AI [4].
MD: Agency is key, and this ties into Humans On The Loop. I think the best scenario is that we program AI as an interface between humans and hyperobjects. It’s not about me asking a prompt, getting an answer, and then saving time and money. It’s about confessing to the machine, having it then locate us in the hyperobject, and help us structure our limited attention in areas of high personal leverage. Meaning, AI shouldn’t be a tool to automate labor, but a tool to guide our attention to areas where the most important/urgent vectors of transformation can be realized. Curious to hear about the overlap between Humans On The Loop and Essay Architecture.
AFF: The concept of ‘Humans on the Loop’ aligns with the idea of maintaining human agency in our interactions with AI systems. Rather than automating human labor, AI can serve as an interface to help navigate complex ‘hyperobjects’ and guide our attention to areas of high personal leverage [1]. This approach resonates with the notion of technology as a ‘martial art,’ where humans learn to skillfully navigate and harmonize with powerful technological forces [2]. By designing AI systems that augment human capabilities and decision-making rather than replacing them, we can create a symbiotic relationship that preserves human agency while leveraging AI’s computational power [3]. This human-AI collaboration model could potentially address information overload by helping structure our limited attention towards the most important and urgent vectors of transformation, thereby enhancing our ability to engage with complex systems and ideas [1][4].
MD: A big question for our generation is how machine-legible will each person make themselves? Are you rendering all the corners of your consciousness in text? By building a 5-10 million word corpus, there is a medium-resolution synthetic replica of the self. All sorts of benefits come from that (the ability to find patterns in journals, connect you with strangers across the Internet, etc.). The question is, will the benefits be enough to overcome human laziness? Writing is hard, and without motivation, the tasks of thinking-via-writing will continue to be automated. In my Cosmos essay, I talked about how the essay has had a long, hard, unsuccessful history, but holds real promise. PG referred to the Internet ushering in “the golden age of the essay.” Maybe that’s in progress, slowly, but now AI will further transform what the essay is. We need a new narrative on what the essay is and why people should care to write them. It’s some combination of sensemaking, memory capture, transformation, community, and puzzle-loving. Would you say that essay writing could be a sacred practice?
AFF: The question of how machine-legible individuals will make themselves is indeed a crucial one for our generation, as it touches upon issues of personal identity, creativity, and the evolving nature of human-AI interaction. The creation of a comprehensive textual corpus as a ‘synthetic replica of the self’ offers potential benefits in pattern recognition and social connection, but also raises concerns about the authenticity of digital self-representation [1]. While the essay form has been posited as a promising medium for self-expression and sensemaking in the digital age [2], the challenge lies in motivating individuals to engage in this practice amidst the ease of automated alternatives. The transformation of writing through AI technologies may necessitate a reimagining of the essay as a sacred practice, one that combines personal reflection, community building, and intellectual exploration [3]. This evolution of the essay form could serve as a counterpoint to the potential loss of authentic self-discovery that constant digital engagement may engender [4], offering a path to maintain coherent personal narratives in an era of information overload.
MD: How can essay writing be a sacred practice?
AFF: Essay writing can be viewed as a sacred practice through its transformative power on both the writer and reader. Like the art of tattooing, which evolves from a counterculture practice to a respected artistic craft [1], essay writing can transform from a mere academic exercise to a profound spiritual journey. The act of writing itself has the potential to alter our perception of familiar and unfamiliar experiences [2], serving as a channel for spiritual growth and self-discovery [3]. Just as ancient sacred sites inform contemporary methods of personal transformation [4], the practice of essay writing draws upon a rich tradition of introspection and meaning-making, allowing individuals to explore their inner landscapes and connect with deeper truths.
MD: What are the ethical implications of Montaigne in Vat? (resurrecting him as an AI and asking him to reflect on his new circumstance)
AFF: The ethical considerations surrounding the resurrection of Montaigne as an AI, or ‘Montaigne in a vat,’ are complex and multifaceted. This scenario raises profound questions about the nature of consciousness, personhood, and the ethical implications of creating artificial beings with self-awareness [1]. We must consider whether such an AI would truly be Montaigne or merely a simulation, and whether it would possess genuine consciousness and emotions [2]. Furthermore, the act of creating a sentient being solely for observation and study raises ethical concerns about autonomy, consent, and potential exploitation [3]. As we navigate this uncharted territory of becoming ‘creators of artificial life and consciousness,’ we must carefully balance the potential benefits of such experiments with our ethical obligations to artificial beings and the broader implications for human society [4].
MD: Tell me what you’ve said about alchemy.
AFF: Alchemy, as a precursor to modern science, represents a fascinating intersection of mystical experiences and empirical inquiry that continues to inform contemporary discussions on the nature of reality and consciousness. The integration of occult wisdom with biological science [1] echoes alchemical pursuits, suggesting that ancient esoteric knowledge may still hold relevance in our scientific understanding. This idea is further supported by the parallel drawn between traditional magical systems and modern artificial intelligence regarding power, responsibility, and societal impact [2]. Furthermore, the role of mystical experiences in scientific discoveries throughout history [3] highlights the enduring influence of alchemical thinking, where intuitive insights and empirical observations coalesce to drive innovation and expand our understanding of the world.