The Planetary Society is running an article stating that the Berkeley SETI@Home folks are going to revisit their 100 best signal candidates for 24 hours in early 2003.
What happens to us, to humanity I mean, if one of those candiates turns out to be a genuine signal of extraterrestrial origin? Even if we cannot decode any of the content of the signal it will be sociologically shattering for many on this planet. If the signal is an intentional transmission meant to broadcast information there is a very real chance that we will be able to decode it. For a very good lay treatise on how we would go about doing so take a look at Beyond Contact: A Guide to SETI and Communicating with Alien Civilizations.
How will the religions of the world react? The Catholic church has already stated that the existence of extraterrestrial life is not at odds with their views. So the Catholics will simply drink one to our new found neighbors. *giggle* Scientology will do a press release stating that L. Ron's Operating Thetan spirit is manipulating MEST (Matter, Energy, Space, Time) to create the signal as the latest addition to the OT manuals.
Those of a scientific stripe, much as myself, will simply go on with life. Realizing that the Universe will never be the same again, with the knowledge that there are (or were) other sophonts out there. Even if we only find evidence of one other sentient race that the Universe became a much warmer and friendlier place than it was. Maybe, hopefully, it will force humanity into realizing just how insane we have been. Even though we may never communicate with another sentience, just the realization that there is another out there may rid us of our ability to act stupidly. I know, wishful thinking... but maybe it is the swift kick in the pants our race is in need of so badly.
Here's an even more interesting thought. When we recieve and decode the signal, what if it turns out to be the "boot-strap" signal? Encoded in this signal would be a program that teaches us how to solve the protien folding problem boot-strapping our society into full-blown nanotechnology a few hours later. Anyone who has seen Carl Sagan's wonderful Universal Clock quickly realizes that interesting things happen on a continually quicker basis. Humanity has arisen into a technological civilization in just the last second before midnite. What is there to keep us from transcendence into near god-hood in the millisecond before midnite? Especially with assistance from an extraterrestrial intelligence that has already made the transfiguration and understands that sentient life is the most valuable thing in the Universe and is doing everything it can to make sure that others don't kill themselves.
All it takes is one.
Monday, December 09, 2002
Tuesday, October 22, 2002
Yet more "Screaming into the Future"
I've held the belief that nuclear armageddon would never occur. There will be limited nuclear exchanges, I'm sure. But no large scale exchanges of large weapons. Building this capability is just entireley too expensive for most countries to undertake, and the risk-reward ratio is so strongly tipped into the risk region that most dare not join the nuclear club. Although everyone wants to be part of this club, it is of limited membership entirely due to the cost involved.
However, biotechnology is a different story. Unlike nuclear materials which require significant amounts of processing before they can be weaponized, the raw materials of bioweapons are readily available with very little processing. In fact nature has been working with these materials for a very long time, and although nature is a tremendously capable highly-parallel processing system, it is not very smart. Humanity brings a focus of intelligence to the table. A focus that could be deadly.
Now scientists in Milan have figured out how to perform genetic modification using very simple methods that any high school kid could perform in their basement. New Scientist article is here.
However, biotechnology is a different story. Unlike nuclear materials which require significant amounts of processing before they can be weaponized, the raw materials of bioweapons are readily available with very little processing. In fact nature has been working with these materials for a very long time, and although nature is a tremendously capable highly-parallel processing system, it is not very smart. Humanity brings a focus of intelligence to the table. A focus that could be deadly.
Now scientists in Milan have figured out how to perform genetic modification using very simple methods that any high school kid could perform in their basement. New Scientist article is here.
Wednesday, August 07, 2002
On the existence of Middle Earth
Tolkien's Middle Earth exists.
It has existed in my imagination for the past couple of decades after reading the books, it now exists on the screen as imaged by Peter Jackson. I bought the LotR:FotR DVD last nite and briefly watched portions. I was once again blown away by the vision that Jackson brought to the first of The Trilogy.
I sense that this is going to be one of those movies that grows even more intriguing over time. Tolkien created a very rich and detailed world. The movies I have found most interesting, the ones that have grown with me over repeated viewings are those that have a broad tapestry of source material from which they draw. Two examples that spring to mind are Cameron's "Terminator" and Spielberg's "Indiana Jones". Although the viewer may not be aware of all the fine details they are observing, and the history that is not displayed on the screen. These things certainly create a depth to the story and the characters. Great stories are not vacuous things that stand on their own, there must be a history, a reason for their existence.
Jackson's rendering of Tolkien's world is near perfect for two reasons. Firstly, Jackson himself understood the realm of Middle Earth as penned by Tolkien. He loves the story, the history, the characters as much as we imagined we do. Secondly, the technology to render the detail we all viewed in our imagination, the detail created by Tolkien's words, became available to a filmmaker that cared as deeply as we did.
The images of the Shire and Bag-End. The sound and look of the Wraiths. The beauty of Rivendell, and the Council of Elrond. All of these things were as if Jackson had reached right into my mind and plucked the internal mental imagery for use on the big screen. Amazing.
Yes. Middle Earth exists. And not in just my imagination any longer, but on the screen as well.
It has existed in my imagination for the past couple of decades after reading the books, it now exists on the screen as imaged by Peter Jackson. I bought the LotR:FotR DVD last nite and briefly watched portions. I was once again blown away by the vision that Jackson brought to the first of The Trilogy.
I sense that this is going to be one of those movies that grows even more intriguing over time. Tolkien created a very rich and detailed world. The movies I have found most interesting, the ones that have grown with me over repeated viewings are those that have a broad tapestry of source material from which they draw. Two examples that spring to mind are Cameron's "Terminator" and Spielberg's "Indiana Jones". Although the viewer may not be aware of all the fine details they are observing, and the history that is not displayed on the screen. These things certainly create a depth to the story and the characters. Great stories are not vacuous things that stand on their own, there must be a history, a reason for their existence.
Jackson's rendering of Tolkien's world is near perfect for two reasons. Firstly, Jackson himself understood the realm of Middle Earth as penned by Tolkien. He loves the story, the history, the characters as much as we imagined we do. Secondly, the technology to render the detail we all viewed in our imagination, the detail created by Tolkien's words, became available to a filmmaker that cared as deeply as we did.
The images of the Shire and Bag-End. The sound and look of the Wraiths. The beauty of Rivendell, and the Council of Elrond. All of these things were as if Jackson had reached right into my mind and plucked the internal mental imagery for use on the big screen. Amazing.
Yes. Middle Earth exists. And not in just my imagination any longer, but on the screen as well.
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
Questions that will have meaning
Most of you know that I subscribe to numerous futurists lists. And that I hold some pretty strange ideas (at least strange to the "man-on-the-street", maybe not to you guys so much).
One list in particular has recently been bantering about SuperIntelligence (SI) and how it will affect humanity.
Most often, the argument is framed as humanity looking at ants. We (humanity) can see some limited intelligence in an ant colony, but certainly not enough to keep but a few entomologists interested in looking at them on a regular basis. Likewise, the ants, if they even percieve us as more than a natural force in their environment, could have no true grasp of just how much further up the scale of intelligence we are. So, the comparison goes, we (humanity) are ants compared to a true SuperIntelligence.
The debate that has been raging as of late concerns how SIs would perceive humanity. Would an SI, born of humanity, remain interested in us? Or would, as most think, the SI simply go "out there" to find something more interesting? Presuming an SI is just merely an order of magnitude smarter than the entire human race, what would be here to keep it interested in us?
See the dilemma?
We (humanity) will build an SI within the next few decades. Our machines will Transcend us. The question becomes will the machines take us along for the ride? Will they allow us to stay as we are? Simply not caring what becomes of us because we are uninteresting? Will they create a utopia in which we continue to exist, a utopia that their creators always wanted but never had the intelligence to build?
What do you want? Can you handle the fact that all you've ever thought, all you'll ever believe is insignificant? Would you be willing to trade all of humanity for what might be the next stage in our evolution? From Darwinian selection to selected evolution. Are you prepared to have your mind and soul shattered by the revalation that in the grand scheme, all of humanity is truly nothing? That for all our self-importance, we are ants? Our only saving grace is the limited general intelligence that we sometimes display.
These are hard questions and we as a society are responsible for the answers. There will be a test, and it will determine the fate of present billions and future trillions. Are you informed enough, detached enough, indeed cool enough to make a decision?
What say you?
One list in particular has recently been bantering about SuperIntelligence (SI) and how it will affect humanity.
Most often, the argument is framed as humanity looking at ants. We (humanity) can see some limited intelligence in an ant colony, but certainly not enough to keep but a few entomologists interested in looking at them on a regular basis. Likewise, the ants, if they even percieve us as more than a natural force in their environment, could have no true grasp of just how much further up the scale of intelligence we are. So, the comparison goes, we (humanity) are ants compared to a true SuperIntelligence.
The debate that has been raging as of late concerns how SIs would perceive humanity. Would an SI, born of humanity, remain interested in us? Or would, as most think, the SI simply go "out there" to find something more interesting? Presuming an SI is just merely an order of magnitude smarter than the entire human race, what would be here to keep it interested in us?
See the dilemma?
We (humanity) will build an SI within the next few decades. Our machines will Transcend us. The question becomes will the machines take us along for the ride? Will they allow us to stay as we are? Simply not caring what becomes of us because we are uninteresting? Will they create a utopia in which we continue to exist, a utopia that their creators always wanted but never had the intelligence to build?
What do you want? Can you handle the fact that all you've ever thought, all you'll ever believe is insignificant? Would you be willing to trade all of humanity for what might be the next stage in our evolution? From Darwinian selection to selected evolution. Are you prepared to have your mind and soul shattered by the revalation that in the grand scheme, all of humanity is truly nothing? That for all our self-importance, we are ants? Our only saving grace is the limited general intelligence that we sometimes display.
These are hard questions and we as a society are responsible for the answers. There will be a test, and it will determine the fate of present billions and future trillions. Are you informed enough, detached enough, indeed cool enough to make a decision?
What say you?
Thursday, June 20, 2002
Time and Distance
I was born in California. I don't remember any of California, my folks moved to Texas for a short time. Then back to California to have my sister, then back to Texas before either of us could develop memories of the west coast.
The first memory I have is of a wood-frame house in Waco. I remember standing at an exterior door, looking through the screen door watching it rain, thunder, and lightning outside. I also remember a bit of the awe that I felt at how big the outside world seemed to be.
Sometime later we moved to a different house after my mother divorced. This house was across the street from three little-league baseball fields. There was also what seemed to be a large area of wooded ground in which me, my sister, and my friends would play. I remember the distances involved as significant. I had a conversation with my sister recently that involved our travels as pre-teens, that our "stomping grounds" were bounded by certain roads... and that there seemed to be enough adventure for an entire lifetime in that area in which we wandered.
A few years ago, the owner of the "McGregor Road House" passed away and the estate sold the land on which the house sat. The houses, being wood-frame pier-and-beam construction, were picked up and moved elsewhere leaving the land open. Heather and I stopped to take a look after grass had reclaimed the ground where the houses sat. I have a very strong sense of spatial relationships, how things physically fit together, building mental maps based on observation, and generally being able to estimate distances and recall the "lay of the land" easily. In removing the houses, the contractor had left the trees intact which left me points of reference as to where the houses had been placed. Not to mention the fact that the ball fields still exist, providing even more visual references.
As I stood in the place where the front porch of the McGregor Road house used to exist I had one of those twists of perspective that I think we all encounter as we age. I realized just exactly how small this "place" seemed to be. Heather says its because I'm "larger" now than I was then, so naturally the place would seem smaller. I don't think that's it. Not entirely. There is, was, an unexplainable difference. The place was still as intimately familiar as any place in which I had lived for a great length of time... and I realize that time changes all things. But can time really make a place smaller?
One of the other reasons I stopped there is the memory of the "Eternal Ant Hill". The EAH was a large hill of those huge red ants that everyone here in the south seems to remember from their childhoods. This was an unusually large ant hill that never fell to me and my sister's machinations. We did pretty much everything we could think of to destroy this hill, hence the name. Water out of the garden hose over hours on end couldn't flood the thing out. Gasoline poured on, and lit couldn't flame the thing out. The EAH was as indestructible as something could be to our minds back then. After nearly 18 years away, I became curious to see if it still existed. It doesn't. I know I stood on the spot where it used to be, my spatial memory of this place has not diminished any, and the rest of the references were there. But the Eternal Ant Hill was gone.
One of the things that intrigues me, due to the strong spatial sense I am sure, is maps and navigation. I own four GPS receivers, numerous mapping programs, and can quickly find my place on a paper map from visual reference cues. Last nite while looking at street level detail maps of the Waco area I decided I'd zoom in on Woodway, and specifically the area that my sister and I had agreed were our self-imposed boundaries of wandering. Using the toolset in the mapping program I quickly realized that what we considered such a huge kingdom, what provided us hours of exploration and fun amounted to nothing more than a few square miles at most of land on which we roamed. From one corner to another was not even a mile-and-a-half wide. I was floored.
We all have the experience that physical things get smaller when they are physically further away. Do we all have the experience that places get smaller in our memory the further away we get from them in time? Granted, I know "more of the world" now than at any past time in my life. And I know those distances haven't changed in the intervening years, what has? I can only guess that my distance in time from that place has caused the same effect others might experience as when observing an object from a large physical distance.
Time and distance are interchangeable. I'm surprised to find out exactly how much at times!
The first memory I have is of a wood-frame house in Waco. I remember standing at an exterior door, looking through the screen door watching it rain, thunder, and lightning outside. I also remember a bit of the awe that I felt at how big the outside world seemed to be.
Sometime later we moved to a different house after my mother divorced. This house was across the street from three little-league baseball fields. There was also what seemed to be a large area of wooded ground in which me, my sister, and my friends would play. I remember the distances involved as significant. I had a conversation with my sister recently that involved our travels as pre-teens, that our "stomping grounds" were bounded by certain roads... and that there seemed to be enough adventure for an entire lifetime in that area in which we wandered.
A few years ago, the owner of the "McGregor Road House" passed away and the estate sold the land on which the house sat. The houses, being wood-frame pier-and-beam construction, were picked up and moved elsewhere leaving the land open. Heather and I stopped to take a look after grass had reclaimed the ground where the houses sat. I have a very strong sense of spatial relationships, how things physically fit together, building mental maps based on observation, and generally being able to estimate distances and recall the "lay of the land" easily. In removing the houses, the contractor had left the trees intact which left me points of reference as to where the houses had been placed. Not to mention the fact that the ball fields still exist, providing even more visual references.
As I stood in the place where the front porch of the McGregor Road house used to exist I had one of those twists of perspective that I think we all encounter as we age. I realized just exactly how small this "place" seemed to be. Heather says its because I'm "larger" now than I was then, so naturally the place would seem smaller. I don't think that's it. Not entirely. There is, was, an unexplainable difference. The place was still as intimately familiar as any place in which I had lived for a great length of time... and I realize that time changes all things. But can time really make a place smaller?
One of the other reasons I stopped there is the memory of the "Eternal Ant Hill". The EAH was a large hill of those huge red ants that everyone here in the south seems to remember from their childhoods. This was an unusually large ant hill that never fell to me and my sister's machinations. We did pretty much everything we could think of to destroy this hill, hence the name. Water out of the garden hose over hours on end couldn't flood the thing out. Gasoline poured on, and lit couldn't flame the thing out. The EAH was as indestructible as something could be to our minds back then. After nearly 18 years away, I became curious to see if it still existed. It doesn't. I know I stood on the spot where it used to be, my spatial memory of this place has not diminished any, and the rest of the references were there. But the Eternal Ant Hill was gone.
One of the things that intrigues me, due to the strong spatial sense I am sure, is maps and navigation. I own four GPS receivers, numerous mapping programs, and can quickly find my place on a paper map from visual reference cues. Last nite while looking at street level detail maps of the Waco area I decided I'd zoom in on Woodway, and specifically the area that my sister and I had agreed were our self-imposed boundaries of wandering. Using the toolset in the mapping program I quickly realized that what we considered such a huge kingdom, what provided us hours of exploration and fun amounted to nothing more than a few square miles at most of land on which we roamed. From one corner to another was not even a mile-and-a-half wide. I was floored.
We all have the experience that physical things get smaller when they are physically further away. Do we all have the experience that places get smaller in our memory the further away we get from them in time? Granted, I know "more of the world" now than at any past time in my life. And I know those distances haven't changed in the intervening years, what has? I can only guess that my distance in time from that place has caused the same effect others might experience as when observing an object from a large physical distance.
Time and distance are interchangeable. I'm surprised to find out exactly how much at times!
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