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now among those peoples who have accepted utilitarianism as their god and savior, the question must arise: how, in fact, might one come to know the True Utility Function? the one everyone is supposed to be (already is?) optimizing for? what is it? how would we know?
for is it not said, "QALY scores range from 1 (perfect health) to 0 (dead)"? and does this not imply that a believer in the QALY must believe, axiomatically, that life is preferable to death? and as proper empiricists, oughtn't we... *check*? https://t.co/OWDZpsgk6C https://t.co/jpPDXuUrQp
from that innocent question was born a thousand serpents, and chief among them was Strong Negative Utilitarianism, the belief that life is so full of suffering that death would be a relief, that the True Utility Function assigns a negative weight to each human soul
those negative utilitarians who have the gall to name themselves as such publicly without publicly making any effort to kill either themselves or the rest of humanity are dilettantes at best, cowards at worst, of course. a true negative utilitarian would never announce themselves
thus they creep in the shadows, unknown to those of us in the light, who i suppose must be named positive utilitarians by contrast. "boo!" the utilitarians say to their children around the campfire. "if you diminish utility the negative utilitarians will get you in the night!"
what is to be done about this disagreement? i hear you ask. isn't it one of the most important questions we could possibly want the answer to, to know whether it is *good or bad to be alive*? the mathematicians speak of their dreaded "sign errors," but this one -
( - whispers in the shadows, "what optimizes True Utility today may as easily optimize its negation tomorrow," which you brush aside - ) https://t.co/pKVngYgeBD
- might be *the biggest philosophical mistake it is possible to make*, the matter of this sign. so which is it? is it good or bad to be alive? is life a comedy or a tragedy? don't just stand there, goddamnit, answer me, answer me -
- in the dreamlands you come to a shrine on a hill. only the night creatures make noise. there isn't a cloud in the sky and you can see every star you approach the shrine. you pay the proper respects. you make the proper offering. and you open your mouth to ask again -
and in due time what hatches from the egg is a small, delicate thing, of no particular color and slightly wet, and not quite right side up. it takes a moment to stand on its own two feet, pats itself, and says: "ask them how they know."
"it may not be a happy story. the most precious story in their heart might be the darkest one, clotted with old blood. yet still it is precious to them, and through knowing it you might come closer to them and they to you. ask them."