These are additional assets related to this Substack post on Alfred North Whitehead’s Science and the Modern World, the chapter on Quantum Theory. It starts like this…
I’ve just finished Whitehead’s chapter on quantum theory in Science and the Modern World. Allowing for the obvious fact that he’s writing from the vantage of 1925, I found this chapter considerably closer to my own way of thinking than some of what preceded it.
What particularly caught my attention was his treatment of the electron.
The classical picture encourages us to imagine a tiny object orbiting a nucleus, rather like a planet around a star. Even when we know that this picture is inadequate, the noun electron still invites us to imagine some enduring thing which persists whilst changing position or state.
Below are summaries in video and podcast format as well as 16 related PDF slides. The fill article is available on my Substack.
I was chatting with a French woman, but I only know bits of French history. I’ve read French, English, American, and European history books – and a few others on World History – but what I retain more often comes from novels, and then relating certain periods and monarchs to one another. I asked ChatGPT for a list of books to span this history . Here’s the list. Additional commentary follows.
Historical slot
Work
What to hang on it
778 / Carolingian myth
La Chanson de Roland
Charlemagne, Franks, Christian heroic culture, the legendary France before France
early 1300s
Maurice Druon, Les Rois maudits / The Accursed Kings
Philip IV, dynastic succession, England-France entanglement, road towards the Hundred Years’ War
1482
Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris
Louis XI, late-medieval Paris, Church, crown, urban society
1572
Dumas, La Reine Margot **
Catherine de’ Medici, Wars of Religion, St Bartholomew’s Day massacre
1625 onward
Dumas, The Three Musketeers*
Louis XIII, Richelieu, Anne of Austria, court politics
1660s
Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask
transition into Louis XIV’s personal rule
1789–94
Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, then Hugo’s Ninety-Three
Revolution first as cultural myth, then 1793, Terror, Vendée and counter-revolution
Restoration society, Napoleon nostalgia, aristocracy versus bourgeois France
1815–1832
Hugo, Les Misérables**
Waterloo aftermath, poverty, policing, July Monarchy, June Rebellion
1860s
Zola, Germinal
Second Empire, industrialisation, mines, labour and class
1870–71
Zola, La Débâcle
Franco-Prussian War, Sedan, fall of Napoleon III, emergence of Third Republic
1914–18
Henri Barbusse, Le Feu / Under Fire
French soldiers and trench experience in the First World War
1940–occupation
Irène Némirovsky, Suite française
collapse of 1940, exodus from Paris, German occupation
It’s difficult for me to keep all of the Rois Louis in check. As the ‘What to hang it on’ suggests, the Three Musketeers reminds me of Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu, which leads to Louis XIV. The good thing about XIV is the geezer rules for 70 years, building the palace of Versailles in his tenure. It may not be high scholarship, but the Netflix show Versailles is my historical source for the middle of Louis XIV’s reign. Quite obviously, his son was Louis XV, the penultimate king, as Louis XIV, found his end at the guillotine in 1793, a few years after the start of the French Revolution in 1789.
As I write, I decided a film/small screen version would be nice, too. Here it is.
Approximate slot
Film / series
Mental hook
1572
La Reine Margot (1994) **
Wars of Religion, Catherine de Médicis, Henri de Navarre, St Bartholomew’s Day massacre
1620s
The Three Musketeers adaptations *,**
Louis XIII, Richelieu
1640-ish
Cyrano de Bergerac (1990)*,**
seventeenth-century France, literary/cultural rather than political anchor
1660s–70s
Versailles**
Louis XIV, court, absolutism
1671
Vatel (2000)
Louis XIV’s aristocratic court culture
1780s
Ridicule
Louis XVI’s Versailles, wit and patronage
1780s
Dangerous Liaisons **
aristocratic libertinism, late ancien régime
1770s–1789
Marie Antoinette (2006)
Versailles immediately before the Revolution
1789–94
La Révolution française (1989)
broad Revolution narrative
Napoleonic era
Napoleon (2023)
huge visual hook; history treated rather elastically
1815 onward
The Count of Monte Cristo *,**
Restoration France, post-Napoleonic world
1832
Les Misérables **
June Rebellion, July Monarchy
Second Empire
Germinal (1993)
industrialisation, miners, labour/class conflict
1870–71
La Débâcle, where available, or documentaries
Franco-Prussian War, fall of Napoleon III
1914–18
A Very Long Engagement
First World War France
1940–44
Army of Shadows
Resistance and occupation
1940–45
Un village français / A French Village
occupied France at civilian scale
Please note that I can’t vouch for these, as I haven’t read or seen most of them – hence the ChatGPT inquiry. I liked the older version of Les Misérables film and The Count of Monte Cristo; The Three Musketeers wasn’t bad. I read Cyrano de Bergerac when I was 11 or 12 for school. I think it was fine. I think I watched Dangerous Liaisons in the late ’80s or early ’90s. I don’t recall that is was bad, so… Finally, there’s Versailles. I think it was on Netflix. It’s not particularly historically accurate, but it was decent enough.
Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now. If you’ve got anything to add, including opinions, share them in comments.
* I’ve read these titles, Le comte de Monte Cristo in French ** I’ve watched this on video.
I had already decided there were limitations to this notion, but I feel it’s still useful. The way I see it, affordance instantiates with an encounter. Stairs don’t have affordances as attributes absent interaction. Generalised, affordance is a function where one needs something like this
A = {subject:object:index:context}
where the subject is the sentient or animate entity, let’s say the chimps in this image; the object is the encountered item, say the bench; the index is the affordance, say sitting or standing, and the context is a salience (or valence or attention) modifier.
In the case of sitting, I may not be tired or particularly interested in sitting. The bench still affords sitting, but I don’t instantiate the act.
Taking stairs as a more common example, if I am a typically abled human adult, stairs afford climbing (ascending and descending), but if I am relegated to a wheelchair, no such affordance relationship exists. This helps to explain why affordance isn’t an attribute of the stairs, but rather of the encounter.
Water to a non-swimmer doesn’t afford swimming any more than a tree affords climbing for a fish – and yet does for a chimp.
As an economist, I used to instruct my Econ 101 students to consider economics as another lens to add to their inventory, but as a philosopher my advice gets somewhat altered. I’ve discussed lenses before, though I can’t seem to find my econ story.
In any case, I’m interested in the philosophers account now. I don’t rescind my previous account which works well enough in a social context, but I want to discuss the ontological deficits in this advice.
NB: Now that I seem to be authoring more on Substack, I am trying to figure out what to do with this blog that I’ve been maintaining since 2017. I am considering using it as a holder of summaries and related digital assets, for example the PDF from Google Notebook. I expect to include a paragraph of two from the Substack article as a preview for readers to determine if it’s worth clicking. If you start at Substack, you may find this ancillary information to be useful.
Also, Substack doesn’t allow me to embed PDFs (through you can download them for viewing), and it doesn’t facilitate tables and such, so I’ve had to resort to alternate formats or screengrabs to share them as image files – not my preference.
IMPORTANT: Please not that my Substack is substantially free, so I am not pulling a bait and switch. If and when I place content behind a paywall, I’ll have a reason or at least an excuse. I believe that information should be free and freely shared with minimal constraints, which is the reason I don’t yet have anything protected.
Of course, I do sell books, but I also discuss the contents here and in other social media contexts. The books are more for a convenience of having everything in one place and supporting my endeavours, to provide additional incentives to produce similar content.
If you have any ideas or preferences, let me know.
I posted this article on Substack: The Philosophers Are Here. Which Philosophers? Some companies are making a big deal about hiring philosophers and ethicists to help then with AI, especially AI companies. Isn’t that grand? My point is that companies only make decisions that they think will support rather than undermine their positions, so they are hiring philosophers sympathetic to their worldviews. They are not hiring, for example, me.
In fact, when I was a management consultant, one of my biggest challenges is that I don’t support capitalism, and I find much of business unethical. To add insult to injury, every year I had to take ethics training and take a test with an attestation that I have not witnessed any unethical behaviour. However, what they qualified as unethical behaviour was in fact illegal behaviour. They didn’t seem to understand the difference – or at least didn’t care very much.
Read the full article on Substack, or watch or listen to a summary on YouTube or Spotify.
I discovered a WordPress widget and decided to share my reading progress, but it appears to show the last few books I’ve finished rather than my active list. Click on My Bookshelf to view more.
I read several books at once. I tend to read a fiction and several non-fiction books. The fiction books happens to be an audiobook, which I tend to listen to whilst I am working out: Carl’s Doomsday Scenario: Dungeon Crawler Carl (book 2). It’s more of a diversion – and entirely unserious, though I did find a quote on Understanding, my latest essay project still in progress.
I can’t really recommend a book to people because I don’t know their tastes and interests. As for the Dungeon Crawler series, if you like RPG gaming culture and lore, you may appreciate the humour of LitRPG. It’s stupid fun.
On the serious side, I’ve mainly been milking a few titles;
Being and Time, An Annotated Translation: Martin Heidegger
Against Progress is a short collections of essays that I tend to travel with and read an appointments and such. I’ve read almost half of them, but I’m still reading.
I’m very close to finishing Reasons and Persons. I’t not exactly a page turner, but it is engaging. It’s inspired several essays here, so I have to suggest that it’s worth the read, as long as it is.
I’ve read Being and Time before, but I wants to take a gander with this new translation and check out the annotations. Since I’ve already read it and have ideas about it, I am more critical of some of the early annotations than a fresh book, but this is also on a slow –when I have time – track.
Of course, one could argue that I would have time if I weren’t reading non-fiction, and one would be correct. However, the level of attention required differs significantly.
NB: I have been drafting an essay on “understanding understanding”, so the IAI article this is based on was perfectly salient. These are my reflections, expedited by ChatGPT.
Audio: Google Notebook summary podcast of this topic.
Elan Barenholtz has written an intriguing piece for the Institute of Art and Ideas, LLMs show language does not describe reality. It is well worth reading, though apologies in advance: IAI has put much of it behind a paywall, humanity’s traditional method for ensuring that ideas about knowledge remain selectively accessible.
Barenholtz argues that large language models present an awkward problem for the familiar idea that language derives meaning by referring to, representing, or somehow grounding itself in an external reality. LLMs manipulate relationships among linguistic tokens without anything resembling ordinary human sensory access to the world, yet nevertheless produce remarkably coherent linguistic behaviour.
It doesn’t necessarily demonstrate that language has no referential function, nor that human cognition is simply next-token prediction writ biological. But it does show that a substantial amount of what we ordinarily take as evidence of linguistic understanding can apparently emerge without the machinery we previously assumed was necessary for it. That should make us suspicious of the machinery.
My own position begins slightly elsewhere. I don’t assume that humans possess privileged access to an ontic reality against which artificial systems can be judged deficient. Whatever reality may exist independently of us, humans encounter it through an architecture of mediation: sensory systems, neural processing, linguistic categories, cultural practices, institutional structures and prior expectations. We don’t encounter the proverbial chair as it is. We encounter what our particular architecture permits the chair to become for us.
In this respect, the difference between humans and current LLMs is not that humans are grounded whilst LLMs float mysteriously above reality. The difference is that the architectures of encounter are different. Humans possess direct sensory and motor coupling of kinds that text-based LLMs lack. We see, hear, touch, move, fall over objects and occasionally stub our toes against them, reality’s least philosophically subtle contribution to epistemology.
But this difference is technological rather than obviously metaphysical. Vision, audition, spatial navigation, tactile sensing and motor feedback can all be incorporated into artificial systems. Robotics already does precisely this. Such systems need not perceive as humans perceive, any more than bats, dogs or octopuses do. They merely require channels through which external constraints can affect their behaviour. Embodiment therefore changes what can constrain a system. It does not, by itself, establish ‘understanding’.
The more substantial difference between humans and contemporary artificial systems may instead be existential stakes.
Things can go badly for organisms in a particularly uncompromising sense. We can be injured, starved, abandoned, exhausted or killed. Our encounters occur against a biological background in which outcomes matter because continued existence itself is conditional. An LLM doesn’t presently possess comparable stakes. Nothing is obviously at risk for it. But this distinction is not really about cognition.
A bacterium has existential stakes. A language model can solve differential equations. Whatever distinguishes those two systems, it would be peculiar to call the difference ‘understanding’.
Stakes may explain motivation, vulnerability, affect or perhaps moral consideration. They do not automatically explain inference, linguistic competence or cognition. To claim otherwise requires an additional argument.
This is why LLMs pose such an interesting philosophical irritation. They do not prove that machines understand. They expose how poorly we have specified what we meant when we claimed that humans do.
If understanding requires successful inference, contextual discrimination, generalisation and appropriate linguistic response, artificial systems already make the boundary uncomfortable.
If understanding instead requires consciousness, intentionality, phenomenology, genuine meaning or some other internal property, then those terms themselves require defensible criteria. Otherwise the explanation merely replaces one contested word with another.
Barenholtz writes that ‘language doesn’t mean; it does’. I am sympathetic to the deflationary impulse. I would perhaps go one step sideways. Language needn’t provide transparent access to reality in order for reality to constrain language. Nor must a system represent the world perfectly in order to negotiate its encounters with it.
Humans and artificial systems may therefore differ profoundly without either possessing privileged access to things as they ontically are. The interesting question isn’t whether LLMs encounter reality as humans do. Plainly they don’t.
The interesting question is why we assumed that the human manner of encounter constituted the metaphysical entrance examination for understanding in the first place.
Every year, apparently, somebody wins happiness. Recently it has often been Finland. The headlines arrive with the confidence of a football result: Finland is the happiest country in the world. One imagines the Finns receiving a small trophy, perhaps in a sauna.
The claim sounds empirical. It sounds as though something called happiness has been located, measured, aggregated, ranked and compared across national borders. There are, of course, surveys behind such rankings, and those surveys may be perfectly competent at measuring what they actually measure: reported life satisfaction, evaluations of present circumstances, perceived social support, security, income, institutional trust and related variables.
But that is already quite different from saying that Finns possess more happiness than everybody else.
Salience, attention, valence and the construction of disposition
Today I live about 90 minutes out of Boston by car on a good day – and 2 hours on a return trip because I live in Cape Cod, a tourist area, so I tend to have to compete with traffic. Today, it took over 2 and a half hours, a Friday afternoon, trapped among boat and beach seekers. I don’t drive, so I require chauffeurs to get me here and there. Today I driving with a bloke for whom traffic possesses unusual psychological gravity. He seems to have traffic and weather on the brain – and don’t get me started on crime, national security, and petrol prices.
Audio: NotebookLM summary podcast of this topic.
I’ll spare the reader the trip up, which was fairly easy, despite traffic-related side comments whenever inappropriate. On the way back and at the first patch of congestion, he harrumphed and announced that we would certainly be stuck in traffic for the entire journey. I checked the Google Maps. Traffic was intermittent, and I told him so.
Soon afterwards, the road cleared. We travelled freely for miles – no traffic to report – but when we later encountered another queue, however, he declared that his prediction had been vindicated. On arrival, he told others that we had been stuck in traffic ‘the whole way’.
Two people; the same reality; different experiences. I got me thinking – and chatting with ChatGPT because the driver was focused on driving – and of course the misery of traffic.
Here’s the rest of the story: The traffic didn’t occupy the whole journey. To him, it occupied the portions of the journey that counted. The clear road was perceptually available but apparently lacked evidential weight. It was experienced without being recruited into the eventual account.
Noticing the divergence between out perceptions, I tried to reconcile. First, I considered filing this under selective attention and confirmation bias, that great psychological lost-property office into which every untidy inference is now deposited, but this doesn’t feel quite right; it doesn’t seem to capture the essence.
Before a belief can be confirmed by evidence, something must first become evidence, right? So, the more interesting question isn’t merely why this geezer interpreted the journey pessimistically, but why congestion became salient whilst free movement receded into the background. What determines which parts of experience become psychologically substantial?
Here’s how I see it:
I tried to view this through lenses of salience, attention and valence. First, a quick refresher:
Salience concerns what stands out, demands processing or acquires significance.
Attention concerns the allocation and maintenance of cognitive resources.
Valence concerns the positive or negative affective character assigned to something.
Traffic may be salient because it frustrates an aim. Its negative valence may help capture attention. Sustained attention may then produce richer encoding, making the traffic easier to recall. Later recollection may strengthen the prior belief that journeys are usually obstructed, which may increase vigilance for traffic during the next journey. No single element need rule the others.
The relation is recursive:
disposition shapes salience
salience directs attention
attention affects encoding
valence influences interpretation
memory reconstructs the event
reconstruction reinforces disposition
And even this is too linear, but here we are. Attention can alter valence. Bodily arousal can alter salience. Memory can modify present interpretation. Expectations can affect what is noticed before conscious appraisal has properly begun. The arrows run in both directions, and probably sideways as well.
The result isn’t simply a biased opinion about a neutral world. It’s a patterned encounter wherein some features arrive already amplified and others scarcely become legible.
Pessimism: Disposition as an epistemic filter
This got my pondering mental health issue. I’m not a psychologist, and I discount the discipline quite heavily, but I wanted to consider the notion of disposition. How can two people quite literally in the same vehicle on the same journey view the world so differently. Of course, we are all carved by our experiences, but this is a reciprocating function: the more we experience the world positively or negatively, the more the world will reveal itself as such. Confirmation bias drives the nails into the coffin.
Let’s look at the down side: pessimism. I don’t mean some clinical depression, but instead of seeing the world with no glasses, and rose-coloured spectacle, the world is view with dark glasses – I’m envisioning a welder’s visor. One could stare at the sun and proclaim it’s overcast. Eyeore on steroids.
A pessimistic disposition might usually described as a tendency to expect bad outcomes. And whilst this may be true, it’s incomplete. Pessimism may also affect what is noticed, how long attention remains with it, how it is interpreted, and what survives into later recall. This is my thesis – or at least my point. The unpleasant becomes an event. The satisfactory becomes the absence of an event.
Congestion is noticed; free movement is merely used. An insult is retained; an ordinary kindness passes as social administration. A failure requires explanation; success is dismissed as luck, temporary relief or an exception that proves nothing.
This asymmetry can make a disposition appear empirically vindicated. The pessimist remembers abundant evidence for pessimism because pessimistically congruent events were more likely to become salient, receive attention and survive reconstruction. The conclusion is then presented as realism:
I don’t expect things to go badly because I am pessimistic.
I am pessimistic because experience shows that things go badly.
Yet ‘experience‘ here isn’t an untouched archive. It’s already been selected, weighted and narrated.
Research on depression is compatible with this more interactive account. Depression and vulnerability to depression have been associated not only with increased processing of negative material but also with diminished positive biases across attention, interpretation, memory and self-referential thought. The pattern is therefore not merely an excess of negativity. It may also involve a failure of positive information to acquire or retain ordinary psychological weight.
A negatively valenced event may dominate because it attracts unusually strong attention. But an apparently negative world might also arise because positive events are weakly encoded, rapidly discounted or treated as anomalous. The same remembered landscape could therefore emerge through different cognitive routes.
Before I continue, a disclaimer: I am not trying to claim that my perception is correct and his isn’t. I’m merely asking how we end up with distinct narratives. It reminds me of the beginning of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, where a couple are speaking to counsellors. A therapist asks about their love life:
Alvy Singer (him) and Annie Hall (her) are seeing their therapists at the same time on a split screen
Alvy’s Therapist: How often do you sleep together?
Annie’s Therapist: Do you have sex often?
Alvy: [lamenting] Hardly ever. Maybe three times a week.
Annie: [annoyed] Constantly. I’d say three times a week.
The interesting think here, is that both are disappointed for the same event one because sex is over-indexed and the other because it is under-indexed.
Moving on…
Anxiety and the world as warning
Anxiety offers a related configuration. Threatening material tends to capture attention more strongly in anxious populations, although effect sizes, experimental measures and the direction of attention over time are not perfectly uniform. Some people may orient rapidly towards threat; others may struggle to disengage; still others may shift from vigilance to avoidance. The bureaucracy of diagnosis naturally prefers a single box, whilst cognition persists in behaving like a process.
Interpretation and memory may then participate in the same system. An ambiguous expression becomes disapproval. A delayed reply becomes rejection. A bodily sensation becomes evidence of illness. Each interpretation increases anxiety; increased anxiety makes threat more salient; heightened salience provides further material for threatening interpretation.
Research on anxiety increasingly examines these as interacting biases rather than sealed mechanisms. Attention, interpretation and memory can be associated with one another, though the evidence does not support a single simple causal sequence in every case.
The important point is not that the danger is imaginary. Sometimes the road really is congested. Sometimes the delayed reply does indicate trouble. Sometimes the body is ill. The question is how individual events acquire representative force and how readily contrary events are permitted to revise the emerging model.
When significance itself becomes unstable
In some accounts of psychosis, salience plays a still more direct role. The aberrant-salience hypothesis proposes that neutral or incidental stimuli may acquire excessive significance, leaving the person to explain why ordinary events feel unusually charged. A glance, coincidence, headline or passing remark may become loaded with personal meaning.
This is not a complete theory of psychosis, nor should it be paraded as one. Predictive-processing accounts differ over whether particular symptoms arise from weakened prior expectations, excessively rigid priors, altered prediction-error signalling, or different disturbances at different levels of processing. Hallucinations and delusions may not share one uniform mechanism merely because diagnostic manuals house them in neighbouring rooms.
Still, the idea illustrates the broader point. Salience does not merely determine which established facts receive attention. It participates in determining what feels fact-like, connected or worthy of explanation.
Once significance has been assigned, interpretation begins its work. Once interpreted, the event may be more readily remembered. Once remembered, it joins the accumulating case for the interpretation that helped produce it.
Not merely ‘in the head’
None of this means that dispositions are autonomous cognitive errors floating above the world, and I reiterate that I am not a medical professional. Hell, I’m barely a professional. Salience is affected by history. Someone who has repeatedly encountered danger may reasonably become more attentive to possible danger. Poverty, discrimination, violence, illness and insecurity do not merely supply ‘negative thoughts’; they alter the statistical environment in which attention and expectation develop. What appears clinically as excessive vigilance may have been learned under conditions in which vigilance was adaptive.
Nor is salience purely conceptual. Sleep, stress, hormones, medication, pain and physiological arousal may all affect what attracts attention and what is retained. Experimental research indicates that arousal and valence can make distinct contributions to emotional memory, another reason not to compress the process into the nursery vocabulary of ‘positive’ and ‘negative thinking’. The world acts upon the disposition, and the disposition acts upon the encountered world. Neither term stands outside the relation.
This also guards against the moral obscenity of telling distressed people that they have simply chosen the wrong interpretation. A recursive process may be self-maintaining without being voluntary. One doesn’t escape it merely by deciding to notice flowers, practise gratitude and purchase a notebook with an inspirational slogan embossed upon it. Sorry, pop psychology and psychological self help industry
From bias to rigidity
Everyone relies upon selective attention. Everyone remembers unevenly. Everyone encounters a world already organised by concern, expectation and affect. Complete neutrality would not be enlightenment; it would be cognitive paralysis.
The relevant distinction may therefore not be between biased and unbiased minds. It may be between systems that remain revisable and systems that become rigidly self-confirming.
A disposition becomes pathological, perhaps, not merely when it selects, but when selection becomes pervasive; not merely when it assigns valence, but when valence governs what can count as evidence; not merely when memory reconstructs, but when reconstruction repeatedly erases whatever might disturb the governing account.
Even then, ‘pathology’ isn’t a property of one mechanism. It may emerge from the interaction of degree, duration, distress, social conditions, bodily states, functional consequences and the available means of correction. The traffic anecdote isn’t a diagnosis. It’s an anecdote, a small model of how a world can be cognitively weighted.
The bloke didn’t invent the congestion. He encountered real traffic. But the congestion became representative, whilst the open road became incidental. Later, memory converted this inequality of weight into an equality of duration: traffic here and there became traffic everywhere.
Perhaps certain dispositions operate similarly. They do not simply add a judgement to experience after the fact. They influence which experiences become prominent, which are sustained by attention, which acquire positive or negative force, and which are later recruited into the story of what the world is like. The question is therefore not merely whether a person sees reality accurately. It is which parts of reality become visible enough to count.
A final word
My ex-wife used to complain how we never did anything – and like the Annie Hall story, I’d say we did too much – so every week or two she’d want to do something, and her refrain was always, ‘Let’s do it. We never do anything.’ One can imagine, that this was not a sustainable model – perhaps as evidenced by the ex prefix. And so not to and this as a therapy session, I’ll leave it here.