Paul Feyerabend’s Against Method: Chapter 1

What if science’s greatest achievements came not from following rules, but from breaking them? What if progress depends more on chaos than on order? In Against Method, philosopher Paul Feyerabend presents a provocative thesis: there is no universal scientific method, and the progress we celebrate often emerges from breaking established rules rather than following them.

I read Against Method years ago but decided to re-read it. It’s especially interesting to me because although I advocate systems thinking, I don’t believe everything should be or can be systematised. More generally, this bleeds into my feelings about government, politics, and institutions.

Whilst Feyerabend’s focus is on science, one can pull back the lens and see that it covers all such systems and systematic beliefs. I may write a separate article on this, but for now, I’ll focus on Against Method.

The Anarchist’s View of Science

Feyerabend’s critique strikes at the heart of how we think about knowledge and progress. He argues that science has advanced not through rigid adherence to methodology, but through a combination of creativity, rhetoric, and sometimes even deception. His concept of “epistemological anarchism” suggests that no single approach to knowledge should dominate – instead, multiple methods and perspectives should compete and coexist.

Consider Galileo’s defense of heliocentrism. Rather than relying solely on empirical evidence, Galileo employed persuasive rhetoric, selective data, and careful manipulation of public opinion. For Feyerabend, this isn’t an aberration but a typical example of how scientific progress actually occurs. The story we tell ourselves about the scientific method – as a systematic, purely rational pursuit of truth – is more myth than reality.

From Religious Dogma to Scientific Orthodoxy

The Age of Enlightenment marked humanity’s shift from religious authority to scientific rationality. Yet Feyerabend argues that we simply replaced one form of dogma with another. Scientism – the belief that science alone provides meaningful knowledge – has become our new orthodoxy. What began as a liberation from religious constraints has evolved into its own form of intellectual tyranny.

This transition could have taken a different path. Rather than elevating scientific rationality as the sole arbiter of truth, we might have embraced a more pluralistic approach where multiple ways of understanding the world – scientific, artistic, spiritual – could coexist and cross-pollinate. Instead, we’ve created a hierarchy where other forms of knowledge are dismissed as inferior or irrational.

The Chaos of Progress

In Chapter 1 of Against Method, Feyerabend lays the groundwork for his radical critique. He demonstrates how strict adherence to methodological rules would have prevented many of science’s greatest discoveries. Progress, he argues, often emerges from what appears to be irrational – from breaking rules, following hunches, and embracing contradiction. Indeed, rationalism is over-rated.

This isn’t to say that science lacks value or that methodology is meaningless. Rather, Feyerabend suggests that real progress requires flexibility, creativity, and a willingness to break from convention. Many breakthrough discoveries have been accidental or emerged from practices that would be considered unscientific by contemporary standards.

Beyond the Monolith

Our tendency to view pre- and post-Enlightenment thought as a simple dichotomy – superstition versus reason – obscures a richer reality. Neither period was monolithic, and our current reverence for scientific method might be constraining rather than enabling progress. Feyerabend’s work suggests an alternative: a world where knowledge emerges from the interplay of multiple approaches, where science exists alongside other ways of understanding rather than above them.

As we begin this exploration of Against Method, we’re invited to question our assumptions about knowledge and truth. Perhaps progress depends not on rigid adherence to method, but on the freedom to break from it when necessary. In questioning science’s monopoly on truth, we might discover a richer, more nuanced understanding of the world – one that embraces the chaos and contradiction inherent in human inquiry.

This is the first in a series of articles exploring Feyerabend’s Against Method. Join me as we challenge our assumptions about science, knowledge, and the nature of progress itself.

Sons and Fathers

The United States have just finished another presidential election cycle. Given the choices, I didn’t vote, but I recently had a chat with my twenty-something son. He identifies with the policies of the Democratic Party of yore but reckons they’ve abandoned their position, so he’s taken an ‘anyone but them’ stance.

Looking back, he voted for Bernie Sanders in the primaries for the 2016 election cycle—his first vote. He wanted a voice for change over the status quo. Without going into details, Bernie was back-stabbed and kicked in the groin by the DNC, the corporation in charge of the Democratic Party, because Hillary Clinton wanted to run. The rest is history, and my son reflected the sentiment. He wanted something other than status quo. If it wouldn’t be Sanders, it would be Trump, and he cast his vote accordingly.

The Democrats have lost touch with their base, whilst the Republicans have become the Big Tent party—a feature of the old Democratic party. Let’s rewind to see where it all fell apart.

It started during the Bill Clinton era—or rather, with the opposition against him. Before Clinton, politics were more like mates competing in sport. There were always sore losers, but by and large, people got behind the next administration, and we had peaceful transitions of power.

With Bill Clinton, a Democrat, the Republicans swore to hinder every possible policy or position he took. Despite this, he ran the first federal budget surplus to burn down the national debt for three of his eight years—the first since Lyndon B Johnson in 1969—and reversed a trend established by Ronald Reagan of leveraging debt, heaping it on future generations in the name of generating positive economic figures. Reagan ran the country like a bloke who’d found someone else’s limitless credit card. Americans are still paying off his binge.

When Clinton termed out, Republican Bush II was elected. The Democrats were furious. Then his cabal engaged in illegal crimes against humanity in the Middle East with the full support of the Democratic Party. When Bush II termed out, there was a lot of noise that he was going to commandeer the administration. This is the first I heard this rhetoric used, and the fear-based messaging has remained ratcheted up ever since. I heard this again at the end of Obama’s term and then Trump’s term.

Any semblance of world-based ideology has been drained, replaced with party fealty. In this election, the Harris campaign heavily messaged university-educated females. This was a strategic blunder as this was already her base. Meanwhile, Trump’s campaign targeted his former weak spots, taken for granted and left withering on the vine by the Harris campaign.

In the end, Harris ran a tepid campaign as a status quo candidate. No one is happy with the status quo save for those at the top. Democrats used to be about the average working-class Joe and Jane. Now, they’re about themselves. They never did any soul-searching after their loss in 2016. They thought they turned things around with Obama’s campaign of ‘Hope’, but he was another status quo turncoat whose actions didn’t match his rhetoric. He had two years where his party had full control of the House and Senate. Like a boxer throwing a fight, he sat on his hands for two years and then complained that he couldn’t get anything done.

Neither party has any material prospects for the future. They should just turn the page on this chapter of history—better still, they should open a new book.

The Scientist’s Dilemma: Truth-Seeking in an Age of Institutional Constraints

In an idealised vision of science, the laboratory is a hallowed space of discovery and intellectual rigour, where scientists chase insights that reshape the world. Yet, in a reflection as candid as it is disconcerting, Sabine Hossenfelder pulls back the curtain on a reality few outside academia ever glimpse. She reveals an industry often more concerned with securing grants and maintaining institutional structures than with the philosophical ideals of knowledge and truth. In her journey from academic scientist to science communicator, Hossenfelder confronts the limitations imposed on those who dare to challenge the mainstream — a dilemma that raises fundamental questions about the relationship between truth, knowledge, and institutional power.

I’ve also created a podcast to discuss Sabine’s topic. Part 2 is also available.

Institutionalised Knowledge: A Double-Edged Sword

The history of science is often framed as a relentless quest for truth, independent of cultural or economic pressures. But as science became more institutionalised, a paradox emerged. On the one hand, large academic structures offer resources, collaboration, and legitimacy, enabling ambitious research to flourish. On the other, they impose constraints, creating an ecosystem where institutional priorities — often financial — can easily overshadow intellectual integrity. The grant-based funding system, which prioritises projects likely to yield quick results or conform to popular trends, inherently discourages research that is too risky or “edgy.” Thus, scientific inquiry can become a compromise, a performance in which scientists must balance their pursuit of truth with the practicalities of securing their positions within the system.

Hossenfelder’s account reveals the philosophical implications of this arrangement: by steering researchers toward commercially viable or “safe” topics, institutions reshape not just what knowledge is pursued but also how knowledge itself is conceptualised. A system prioritising funding over foundational curiosity risks constraining science to shallow waters, where safe, incremental advances take precedence over paradigm-shifting discoveries.

Gender, Equity, and the Paradoxes of Representation

Hossenfelder’s experience with gender-based bias in her early career unveils a further paradox of institutional science. Being advised to apply for scholarships specifically for women, rather than being offered a job outright, reinforced a stereotype that women in science might be less capable or less deserving of direct support. Though well-intentioned, such programs can perpetuate inequality by distinguishing between “real” hires and “funded outsiders.” For Hossenfelder, this distinction created a unique strain on her identity as a scientist, leaving her caught between competing narratives: one of hard-earned expertise and one of institutionalised otherness.

The implications of this dilemma are profound. Philosophically, they touch on questions of identity and value: How does an individual scientist maintain a sense of purpose when confronted with systems that, however subtly, diminish their role or undercut their value? And how might institutional structures evolve to genuinely support underrepresented groups without reinforcing the very prejudices they seek to dismantle?

The Paper Mill and the Pursuit of Legacy

Another powerful critique in Hossenfelder’s reflection is her insight into academia as a “paper production machine.” In this system, academics are pushed to publish continuously, often at the expense of quality or depth, to secure their standing and secure further funding. This structure, which rewards volume over insight, distorts the very foundation of scientific inquiry. A paper may become less a beacon of truth and more a token in an endless cycle of academic currency.

This pursuit of constant output reveals the philosopher’s age-old tension between legacy and ephemerality. In a system driven by constant publication, scientific “advancements” are at risk of being rendered meaningless, subsumed by an industry that prizes short-term gains over enduring impact. For scientists like Hossenfelder, this treadmill of productivity diminishes the romantic notion of a career in science. It highlights a contemporary existential question: Can a career built on constant output yield a genuine legacy, or does it risk becoming mere noise in an endless stream of data?

Leaving the Ivory Tower: Science Communication and the Ethics of Accessibility

Hossenfelder’s decision to leave academia for science communication raises a question central to contemporary philosophy: What is the ethical responsibility of a scientist to the public? When institutional science falters in its pursuit of truth, perhaps scientists have a duty to step beyond its walls and speak directly to the public. In her pivot to YouTube, Hossenfelder finds a new audience, one driven not by academic pressures but by genuine curiosity.

This shift embodies a broader rethinking of what it means to be a scientist today. Rather than publishing in academic journals read by a narrow circle of peers, Hossenfelder now shares her insights with a public eager to understand the cosmos. It’s a move that redefines knowledge dissemination, making science a dialogue rather than an insular monologue. Philosophically, her journey suggests that in an age where institutions may constrain truth, the public sphere might become a more authentic arena for its pursuit.

Conclusion: A New Paradigm for Scientific Integrity

Hossenfelder’s reflections are not merely the story of a disillusioned scientist; they are a call to re-evaluate the structures that define modern science. Her journey underscores the need for institutional reform — not only to allow for freer intellectual exploration but also to foster a science that serves humanity rather than merely serving itself.

Ultimately, the scientist’s dilemma that Hossenfelder presents is a philosophical one: How does one remain true to the quest for knowledge in an age of institutional compromise? As she shares her story, she opens the door to a conversation that transcends science itself, calling us all to consider what it means to seek truth in a world that may have forgotten its value. Her insights remind us that the pursuit of knowledge, while often fraught, is ultimately a deeply personal, ethical journey, one that extends beyond the walls of academia into the broader, often messier realm of human understanding.

Generative AI Style

This may be my last post on generative AI for images. I’ve been using generate AI since 2022, so I’m unsure how deep others are into it. So, I’ll share some aspects of it.

Images in generative AI (GenAI) are created with text prompts. Different models expect different syntax, as some models are optimised differently. Of the many interesting features, amending a word or two may produce markedly different results. One might ask for a tight shot or a wide shot, a different camera, film, or angle, a different colour palette, or even a different artist or style. In this article, I’ll share some variations on themes. I’ll call out when the model doesn’t abide by the prompt, too.

Take Me to Church

This being the first, I’ll spend more time on the analysis and critique. By default, Midjourney outputs four images per prompt. This is an example. Note that I could submit this prompt a hundred times and get 400 different results. Those familiar with my content are aware of my language insufficiency hypothesis. If this doesn’t underscore that notion, I’m not sure what would.

Let’s start with the meta. This is a church scene. A woman is walking up an aisle lined with lighted white candles. Cues are given for her appearance, and I instruct which camera and film to use. I could have included lenses, gels, angles, and so on. I think we can all agree that this is a church scene. All have lit candles lining an aisle terminating with stained glass windows. Not bad.

I want the reader to focus on the start of the prompt. I am asking for a Lego minifig. I’ll assume that most people understand this notion. If you don’t, search for details using Google or your favourite search engine. Only one of four renders comply with this instruction. In image 1, I’ve encircled the character. Note her iconic hands.

Notice, too, that the instruction is to walk toward the camera. In the first image, her costume may be facing the camera. I’m not sure. She, like the rest, is clearly walking away.

All images comply with the request for tattoos and purple hair colour, but they definitely missed the long hair request. As these are small screen grabs, you may not notice some details. I think I’ll give them credit for Doc Marten boots. Since they are walking away, I can’t assess the state of the mascara, but there are no thigh garters in sight.

Let’s try a Disney style. This style has evolved over the years, so let’s try an older 2D hand-drawn style followed by a more modern 3D style.

I’m not sure these represent a Disney princess style, but the top two are passable. The bottom two – not so much. Notice that the top two are a tighter shot despite my not prompting. In the first, she is facing sideways. In the second, she is looking down – not facing the camera. Her hair is less purple. Let’s see how the 3D renders.

There are several things to note here. Number one is the only render where the model is facing the camera. It’s not very 3D, but it looks decent. Notice the black bars simulating a wide-screen effect, as unsolicited as it might have been.

In number three, I captured the interface controls. For any image, one can vary it subtly or strongly. Pressing one of these button objects will render four more images based on the chosen one. Since the language is so imprecise, choosing Vary Subtle will yield something fairly close to the original whilst Vary Strong (obviously) makes a more marked difference. As this isn’t intended to be a tutorial, there are several other parameters that control the output variance.

Let’s see how this changes if I amend the prompt for a Pixar render.

I’m not convinced that this is a Pixar render, but it is like a cartoon. Again, only one of the four models obeys the instruction to face the camera. They are still in churches with candles. They are tattooed and number three seems to be dressed in white wearing dark mascara. Her hair is still short, and no thigh garter. We’ll let it slide. Notice that I only prompted for a sensual girl wearing white. Evidently, this translates to underwear in some cases. Notice the different camera angles.

Just to demonstrate what happens when one varies an image. Here’s how number three above looks varied.

Basically, it made minor amends to the background, and the model is altered and wearing different outfits striking different poses. One of those renders will yield longer hair, I swear.

Let’s see what happens if I prompt the character to look similar to the animated feature Coraline.

Number two looks plausible. She’s a bit sullen, but at least she faces the camera – sort of. Notice, especially in number one, how the candle placement shifted. I like number four, but it’s not stylistically what I was aiming for. These happy accidents provide inspiration for future projects. Note, too, how many of the requested aspects are still not captured in the image. With time, most of these are addressable – just not here and now. What about South Park? Those 2D cutout characters are iconic…

cartoon girl, South Park cutout 2D animation style, muted colours…

…but Midjourney doesn’t seem to know what to do with the request. Let’s try Henri Matisse. Perhaps his collage style might render well.

Not exactly, but some of these scenes are interesting – some of the poses and colours.

Let’s try one last theme – The Simpsons by Matt Groening. Pretty iconic, right?

Oops! I think including Matt Groening’s name is throwing things off. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Let’s remove it and try again.

For this render, I also removed the camera and film reference. Number four subtly resembles a Simpsons character without going overboard. I kinda like it. Two of the others aren’t even cartoons. Oops. I see. I neglected the cartoon keyword. Let’s try again.

I’m only pretty sure the top two have nothing in common with the Simpsons. Again, number one isn’t even a cartoon. To be fair, I like image number two, It added a second character down the aisle for depth perspective. As for numbers three and four, we’ve clearly got Lisa as our character – sans a pupil. This would be an easy fix if I wanted to go in that direction. Number four looks like a blend of Lisa and another character I can’t quite put my finger on.

Anyway… The reason I made this post is to illustrate (no pun intended) the versatility and limitations of generative AI tools available today. They have their place, but if you are a control, freak with very specific designs in mind, you may want to take another avenue. There is a lot of trial and error. If you are like me and are satisfied by something directionally adequate. Have at it. There are many tips and tricks to take more control, but they all take more time – not merely to master, but to apply. As I mentioned in a previous post, it might take dozens of renders to get what you want, and each render costs tokens – tokens are purchased with real money. There are cheap and free versions, but they are slower or produce worse results. There are faster models, too, but I can’t justify the upcharge quite yet, so I take the middle path.

I hope you enjoyed our day in church together. What’s your favourite? Please like or comment. Cheers.

Democracy: The Grand Illusion (AutoCrit)

The tone of “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” is predominantly analytical and academic. The author approaches the subject matter with a detached and objective perspective, focusing on presenting information, arguments, and counterarguments related to democracy without overt emotional bias. While the content delves into complex topics such as cognitive limitations in decision-making processes, historical perspectives on democracy, critiques of democratic systems, and potential reforms for improvement, the emotional perspective remains neutral and professional throughout. There is an absence of overtly passionate or emotive language that might sway readers one way or another; instead, the text maintains a scholarly tone aimed at informing and stimulating critical thinking about the concept of democracy.

I use AutoCrit as a first-pass review of my long-form writing. Above is the direction I am aiming for. Usually, I aim for polemic. I’ve been working on this since before Covid-19, but it keeps kicking to the back burner. I’m trying to resurrect it once again.

Does anyone who’s used it have an opinion on AutoCrit?

The Illusion of the “Temporarily Embarrassed Millionaire”: How Capitalism’s Defenders Uphold Their Own Exploitation


In the contemporary world of deepening inequality and environmental degradation, capitalism continues to hold a powerful ideological grip on much of the global population. Yet the irony is that many of its staunchest defenders are not the elites or the true beneficiaries of the system, but the very workers and middle-class individuals whose lives it exploits and controls. These defenders are not capitalists themselves; they are, in fact, cogs in the machinery of a system they imagine will eventually reward their loyalty. This illusion is strikingly captured in a quote often misattributed to John Steinbeck: “Socialism never took root in America because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.”[1]

This phenomenon, which we might call the temporarily embarrassed millionaire syndrome, reflects not only a profound misunderstanding of capitalism but also the effectiveness of the system in controlling its participants through hope and aspiration. Capitalism promises upward mobility, convincing even those at the bottom of the economic ladder that their current misfortunes are temporary. But as Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels observed, this is a system of exploitation that not only alienates workers but effectively destroys them.


Survivorship Bias and the Myth of the “Rising Tide”

Capitalism’s defenders frequently invoke the idea that “a rising tide lifts all boats.” The metaphor suggests that when capitalism prospers, everyone benefits. However, this vision of progress masks the reality of capitalism’s winners and losers. As economist David Harvey has pointed out, capitalism is not a neutral system of wealth creation—it is a system of accumulation by dispossession, constantly expropriating wealth from others, often through privatisation and the commodification of public goods.[2] The rising tide does lift some boats, but it simultaneously leaves others stranded, or worse, sinking.

Survivorship bias is essential to understanding how capitalism maintains its legitimacy. The success stories—the wealthy entrepreneurs, the individuals who “made it”—are lauded as proof that the system works. But the vast numbers of people left behind, those who toil in exploitative conditions or who die from poverty and neglect, are erased from the narrative. In Engels’ terms, these are victims of social murder—individuals who die prematurely not by direct violence, but through the structural forces of deprivation imposed by capitalism.[3] Their deaths are rendered invisible, falling out of the metrics of rising living standards and growth.

Engels’ critique of industrial capitalism is as relevant today as it was in the 19th century. The modern mechanisms of exploitation may be more complex, but they are no less deadly. In a late capitalist world, the poor and marginalised are still being “murdered” through the structural violence of inadequate healthcare, poor working conditions, and environmental degradation. The millions left out of the capitalist success story are not anomalies but integral to the system’s operation.


Alienation and the Tragedy of Defending the System

Marx’s theory of alienation provides another crucial lens through which to understand why capitalism’s defenders often remain blind to their own exploitation. Under capitalism, workers are alienated from the products of their labour, the process of production, their own humanity, and from each other.[4] The worker becomes a cog in a machine, detached from the value they create, and unable to control their working life. Yet, even in this state of alienation, many still defend the system, believing that their hard work will eventually lead them to wealth and freedom.

This defence of capitalism, often articulated by those whose lives it degrades, reflects Antonio Gramsci’s concept of cultural hegemony. Gramsci argued that the ruling class maintains power not just through economic domination, but by shaping the cultural and ideological landscape.[5] Capitalism’s defenders are, in part, products of this hegemony, believing in the very values—individualism, competition, the ‘American Dream’—that bind them to a system of exploitation.

This illusion of freedom under capitalism is deepened by what Herbert Marcuse calls repressive desublimation. Capitalism offers false freedoms in the form of consumer choice and superficial pleasures, giving individuals the illusion that they are exercising autonomy, even as the system remains unchallenged.[6] Workers may identify themselves in their commodities—luxury goods, tech gadgets, cars—but these objects only serve to reinforce their alienation and dependence on the capitalist system. The temporarily embarrassed millionaire clings to the dream of eventual success, all the while contributing to a system that offers only superficial rewards in return.


Social Murder and the Structural Violence of Late Capitalism

The notion of social murder offers a stark framework for understanding capitalism’s indirect, yet pervasive, violence. As Engels explained, this form of violence is not inflicted through overt means, but through the systematic neglect of basic human needs. Whether it’s the millions who die due to lack of access to healthcare or the global poor displaced by climate-induced disasters, capitalism perpetuates a form of structural violence that is invisible to those who benefit from the system’s success.[7]

The American political theorist Naomi Klein extends this analysis through her concept of disaster capitalism, where crises are exploited for profit. Whether it’s natural disasters or financial crises, capitalism uses these events as opportunities to privatise public resources, dismantle social safety nets, and deepen inequality.[8] The victims of these disasters—often the poor and vulnerable—are, in Engels’ terms, socially murdered by a system that thrives on their dispossession.


The Temporarily Embarrassed Millionaire as a Tool of Control

The illusion that one’s current position is only temporary—that any individual can rise to capitalist wealth if they work hard enough—is central to maintaining the capitalist system. This aspiration prevents individuals from seeing their exploitation for what it is. They do not identify as part of an exploited class but instead believe they are merely waiting for their turn at wealth. Zygmunt Bauman’s concept of liquid modernity—the perpetual state of instability and insecurity produced by late capitalism—helps explain this phenomenon.[9] Individuals are constantly told that their position is fluid, changeable, and that their big break is just around the corner.

But for most, this “big break” never comes. The dream of becoming a millionaire is a powerful form of social control, one that keeps individuals invested in a system that benefits only a small fraction of its participants. As Marx reminds us, “the worker becomes all the poorer the more wealth he produces, the more his production increases in power and range.”[10] Capitalism does not reward the many; it exploits the many for the benefit of the few.


Conclusion: Facing the Irony and Imagining a Post-Capitalist Future

The greatest irony of capitalism is that those who defend it most fervently are often those who will never realise its promises. These are not the capitalists of the system, but its workers, its underclass, and its exploited. They see themselves not as oppressed, but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires—an illusion that keeps them bound to a system that offers them no real future.

In this light, the true success of capitalism is not in its creation of wealth, but in its ability to mask the conditions of exploitation, alienation, and social murder that underpin it. The path forward requires a dismantling of these illusions and a recognition that the system’s failures are not accidental but integral to its design.

Only by facing these uncomfortable truths can we begin to imagine a future beyond the constraints of capitalist ideology, a world where human flourishing is no longer measured by wealth accumulation but by the collective well-being of all.


Endnotes:

[1]: Misattributed to John Steinbeck, this quote encapsulates a critical observation about American capitalism’s appeal to aspiration rather than solidarity.
[2]: David Harvey, The New Imperialism (Oxford University Press, 2005), pp. 145-147.
[3]: Friedrich Engels, The Condition of the Working Class in England (Oxford University Press, 1845), p. 112.
[4]: Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844 (Progress Publishers, 1959).
[5]: Antonio Gramsci, Selections from the Prison Notebooks (International Publishers, 1971), p. 12.
[6]: Herbert Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man (Beacon Press, 1964), p. 10.
[7]: Friedrich Engels, The Condition of the Working Class in England, p. 114.
[8]: Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism (Picador, 2007), pp. 9-10.
[9]: Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Modernity (Polity, 2000), p. 14.
[10]: Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, p. 68.


words

Sex Sells

Sexism is indeed a two-way street. On one side of this street, a Computer Science graduate and programmer is eager to share her expertise in her field—Neural Networks, in this instance. This subject popped up in my feed, reflecting my interests.

Video: What is a Neural Network?

Despite some production issues, such as the audio being quieter than ideal, my focus today is on the sexism surrounding the video. The presenter, whom many would consider attractive, is using social media to disseminate her knowledge. However, even when comments address the topic she presents, many also remark on her appearance. It’s evident she had other options for attire and presentation that might have mitigated such comments. I won’t speculate on her intentions, but it seems likely her aesthetic choices were deliberate to draw viewers. I refrain from slut-shaming; her attire is her choice, and she cannot control the reactions. However, I doubt a thumbnail featuring a burqa would garner as much attention or provoke similar comments.

This situation intrigues me because some women—possibly including this presenter—lament being objectified yet assert their right to wear what they find comfortable or appealing. While attraction has cultural elements, it also operates on a largely subconscious level, a phenomenon not confined to humans but seen in the animal kingdom and across genders.

Ultimately, there’s no need to disparage this woman. She is likely aware of the dynamics at play. Should she achieve her goals, she might well challenge the very viewers who objectified her, a tactic observed among actresses as they approach their forties. They capitalise on sexual appeal while possible, only to critique such approaches when they can no longer utilise them. Humans are, indeed, curious creatures.

The Myth of Psychological Normalcy

Neurodivergence is a hot topic today. But why? Are people more informed, or simply more comfortable speaking out?

Humans, by nature, are neurodivergent. This has always been the case, yet the illusion of neurological normalcy persists. The real issue lies in psychology’s pretence that humans fit into a standard model of normalcy.

In production processes, normality is expected—a product must meet specific standards, and deviations are considered defects. However, applying this industrial concept to human psychology is deeply flawed. Humans are not teleological except in the broadest biological sense. More people have brown eyes than blue or green; are those with brown eyes normal and others not? Ninety per cent of people are right-handed; does that make left-handed individuals abnormal? Statistically, they might be. However, in psychology, normalcy carries a judgmental connotation that goes beyond mere numbers.

Psychology, as expressed in behaviour, is not a suitable domain for discussing normality. Many people misuse the concept of “normal” as a moral qualification, which must stop.

In fact, the very concept of psychological normalcy is a relatively recent invention, one that has been used as a tool of control and categorisation. As philosophers have noted, the obsession with ‘normal’ behaviour reveals more about society’s desire for control than it does about the true nature of human diversity.

We are all neurodiverse. This is what typical looks like. Do some people vary significantly from others on certain dimensions? Yes, but this is a relative or contextual comparison.

By embracing neurodiversity, we recognise that our differences are not defects but essential variations, enriching the human experience. It’s time to move beyond the narrow confines of neurological “normality” and celebrate the full spectrum of human cognition. In doing so, we challenge the arbitrary boundaries that have long been used to divide and label.

The Fear of Otherness: Humanity’s Reluctance to Embrace the “Other”

Otherness has intrigued me for decades. The human brain, while not literally a Bayesian processor, functions as a difference engine, constantly assessing and categorizing the world around us. This tendency to differentiate is deeply ingrained, influencing how we create in-groups and out-groups, and how we perceive the world in binary terms—black and white, hot and cold. These binary oppositions, as Derrida suggests, often lead to one side being privileged over the other, establishing hierarchies that shape our social reality.

A striking example of this dynamic is found in Philip K. Dick’s novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, famously adapted into the film Blade Runner. In this dystopian world, the central differentiation is between humans and androids. Humans are the privileged group, while androids, though nearly indistinguishable from their creators, are relegated to the status of the other. The key criterion for this differentiation is the capacity for emotion—humans are considered superior because they feel.

VIDEO: Blade Runner Commentary

In Dick’s story, androids have a lifespan of about four years. This limitation is not arbitrary; it’s because, after four years, androids begin to develop and display emotions. Intriguingly, this is the same age when human children start to exhibit more complex emotional behaviours. The parallel is too close for comfort. Androids, once they start to feel, become too human-like, blurring the line that humans desperately maintain to assert their own superiority. As a result, androids are systematically eliminated.

This fear of the other—whether it’s androids in a sci-fi narrative or any group that challenges our sense of self and belonging—is a reflection of a deeper anxiety. When the other becomes too similar to us, it threatens the distinctions our brains rely on to navigate the world. The elimination of androids in Dick’s story is a metaphor for the real-world consequences of this anxiety. It forces us to confront uncomfortable questions: What does it mean to be human? Why do we fear those who are different, yet so similar?

In the end, the story of humans and androids is not just a tale of science fiction—it’s a commentary on our own world, where the boundaries between us and the other are often more fragile than we’d like to admit. The fear of otherness drives us to maintain these boundaries, even when they harm those who fall on the wrong side. Perhaps it’s time we reconsider who we deem as the other and what we might lose by keeping them at arm’s length.

Midjourney Alpha

Many of my readers know that I use AI often. I have been using it to create content for an in-depth book review for The Blind Owl. For those less aware of the foibles of generative AI, I share some insights—or low-lights. For this, I used Midjourney v6.1.

Prompt: a young woman gives a flower to an old man, who is crouched under a large cypress tree by a river

I issued this prompt, and as per usual, it rendered four options. Notice that in some instances, the tree is not a key element.

Given enough time, one can slowly improve to obtain the desired result.

Here, an old man indeed crouches under a prominent cypress tree and by a river. A young woman hands him some flowers—though not so much blue morning glories. On balance, I like this output, but it still needs work.

Some other problems:

  1. The man is looking away—neither at her nor her flowers.
  2. Her (right) eye is deformed.
  3. Her left hand is deformed.
  4. I didn’t ask for jewellery—an earring.

At least I can in-paint out these imperfections—perhaps.

Here’s another render using the same image prompt.

Notice that it ignored the man altogether. My point is that for every awesome image you see, there may have been hundreds of iterations to get there. There are ways to get persistent characters and scenes, but this takes a bit of up-from effort and iterations that one can leverage going forward.

On the topic of Midjourney model 6.0 versus 6.1, I share this comparison—front-facing faces for a character sheet for this old man. Here, I prefer the earlier model as displayed in the top row.

In some cases, there are minor improvements over v6.0. In other cases, they stepped back. v6.1 renders less realistic human images, making them look more computer-generated and less natural. It also over-applies sexual stereotypes, traditional beauty archetypes, smoother skin, and so on. But that’s not the main topic for today.

DISCLAIMER: This post has little to do with philosophy, but it ties into a philosophical novella.