The Deception Theorem of Electron Psychology

The Deception Theorem of Electron Psychology

 

On occasion I have used the word ‘helbertian’ in my science-fiction stories. That is because when I subscribed to Analog, they sometimes sent me magazines addressed to Nathaniel Helbertian. I figured that a helbertian is a wave operator for quantum mechanics.  When I subscribed to F&SF, they sometimes sent me magazines addressed to N Helleretti. I figure that the Helleretti is a tribe of mischievous sprites.    

          Then I asked myself; just what kind of quantum wave operator is a Helbertian? I imagine that the Helbertian is a mathematical measure of the intelligence of an elementary particle. It’s the energy of the particle’s mindfield. This makes the Helbertian fundamental to the theory of Electron Psychology, a.k.a. Adeledicnandar, as cited in the A.E. Van Vogt story, “Far Centaurus”.

          In that story, A. E. Van Vogt imagines a future science called “adeledicnandar”. The word means “electron psychology”. The protagonist asked a Centaurian, “Are you saying that electrons think?” The Centaurian answered, “No, but they do have a psychology.” Electron psychology sounds a lot like the “quantum computation” that excites so many nerds nowadays. The nerds want to factor large numbers, do fast searching, and simulate molecules; but if quantum computation is adeledicnandar, then you can also use it to fly faster than light.  Perhaps high-helbertian electrons can crack the code of spacetime.

          The Helbertian formulation of adeledicnandar echoes the Hamiltonian formulation of quantum mechanics. In both, an energy function is defined in terms of kinetic and potential forms. In the case of the Helbertian, that means kinetic thought and potential thought. The Helbertian’s evolution through time governs the particle’s behavior. The Helbertian operator can be formulated as a Matrix, which commutes with operators denoting concepts conserved by thought.

          Particle intelligence is based upon uncertainty; that plus nonlocality gives the particle nonclassical knowledge. It can think as well as a human, but not like a human. Human intelligence and particle intelligence are both governed by the law of least action. Figuring out which path minimizes action is what particle intelligence is for.

          Technical point: actually it is the law of stationary action; particles and people take paths not near paths of greater or lesser action. This usually means paths of least action, but particles and people can take paths of greatest action.

          A full theory of electron psychology remains to be developed; and with it, a suite of aldeledicandar-based technologies. For instance, the adeledicnandar radiation emitter transmodulates the morphogenetic field, and thus can run a star-drive, or confer super-powers.

          Raw adeledicnandar radiation kills fools, but this fell out of favor as a weapons technology, as it preferentially targets the ruling class. Nor is it a useful weapon for rebels, for anyone who thinks he’s smart enough to use the Stulticide is a would-be ruler, and vulnerable to the Stulticide’s effects.

          Particles at mental rest have microscopic intelligence; but a particle thinking near the speed of light can outwit an entire research team. Therefore the Deception Theorem of Electron Psychology, which states: 

At a high enough energy, the intelligence of the particle will exceed the intelligence of the research team: therefore all high-energy particle experiments will yield data that is precise but not accurate.

          This explains isospin, strangeness, charm, color, flavor, quarks, neutrinos, virtual particles, and most of the rest of high-energy particle physics.

Hitting particles hard is not how to get them to tell you the truth. To communicate with intelligent matter, you have to get in tune with it. 

 

Clash of Vocations

Clash of Vocations

 

Robert West and I were classmates in college. He mentioned that his debate club team will compete soon. I asked him what his team will debate. He answered that they will argue for a certain proposition, and the next day, for the opposite proposition.

I was baffled. But, but, they can’t both be true! He patiently explained that debate club rules require such reversals. My perplexity turned to alarm. You mean... you’re expected to argue for something that you don’t believe?!

I was shocked. I was scandalized. I felt like I had seen something indecent. Robert West was visibly disgusted by my naiveté. He tried to tell me that the whole point of the debate club is to develop rhetorical skill; but I remained obdurate in my puritanism.

Looking back, I now see that our clash of values was due to different vocations. I was training to become a mathematician. My ideal was to Discover the Truth. He was training to become a lawyer. His objective was to Win the Argument. Ultimately my job was to ensure that the bridges don’t fall down; his job was to ensure that, when the bridges do fall down, his clients don’t go to prison.

In the many decades since then, I have slowly learned the pragmatic necessity for both vocations; but just then I didn’t understand.

We graduated and went our separate ways. Later we re-encountered, online, in a discussion group with a small group of friends. He and I often disagreed; for instance, on the reality of fictitious social constructs. I was moved to write:

‘Nonexistence has consequences.’

He was moved to reply:

‘ “Nonexistence has consequences”. True, but - ’

- and right there I stopped reading! True, but?! Triggered, I stood up. I stormed out of the room. To calm down, I did household chores. After I regained my composure, I returned to the computer. I sat down. I braced myself, and I read on. He said “true, but” even false social constructs have reality due to community pressure. I begged to differ.

In a related development, he and I later differed on the relative merits of motivational self-deception vs therapeutic self-honesty.

But one day we did agree on something; namely, that the correct name for our species is not “Homo Sapiens”, meaning “Man the Wise”; for that name is aspirational, not descriptive. We concurred that a scientifically accurate name for our kind is “Homo Semisapiens”, meaning “Man the Half-Wise”. I was pleased that we agreed.

But then I stopped hearing from him. Soon my other online friends told me that he had died.

I was horrified. Did agreeing with me kill him? Or did the approach of death weaken his rhetorical resolve? Perhaps Robert West could have argued for either of these propositions with equal plausibility. I, myself, will never know for sure.

 

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

Appendix:

Recently I’ve learned another name for our species:

          Homo Mendax.

Meaning “Man the Liar”.

          Only Homo Mendax or Homo Semisapiens would look at our history and call us Homo “Sapiens”. So which are we really, liar or halfwit? I call that question the “crook-or-fool dilemma”.

The solution is that everyone lies to a crook, so they become fools; and fools lie to themselves, so they become crooks. Therefore Mendax and Semisapiens meet in the middle.

          “Discover the Truth” is a Semisapiens ideal; “Win the Argument” is a Mendax objective. So I played Semisapiens when I said “nonexistence has consequences”, and West played Mendax when he said “True, but”. Even so, we are one.

          Plato wrote that the wise must become virtuous, to remain wise. I concur:  Mendax becomes Semisapiens. But Semisapiens becomes Mendax: therefore the virtuous must wise up, to remain virtuous.

 

A Fine and Grand Name

A Fine and Grand Name

 

One night, while driving my car, I turned the dial that brightens or dims the symbols on the dashboard. Suddenly I recalled a memory from my youth. I was reading the owner's manual for my Mom's Volvo; it mentioned that same dial, and called it the...

(takes deep breath)

Ideogram Illumination Intensity Adjustment Potentiometer!

This fine and grand name made such an impression on me that I recalled it many decades later. And now I have shared it with you.