Unplugging from the Simulation

markus spiske

You’ve likely come across the idea online before — are we living in a computer simulation? Perhaps you’ve seen the clip of Elon Musk telling an audience at a tech conference that the probability of us not living in a simulation is “one in billions.”

I never gave it much thought beyond some leisure reading. But I saw The Truman Show for the first time recently, which immediately reminded me of The Matrix—a far darker version of a very similar story. 

For those who haven’t seen either and without spoiling things, both films deal with a hero who through a series of chance events begins to doubt the nature of his reality. He confides with close friends and family about his doubts, and they all poo poo his silly thoughts. The hero then ventures further to find some of those doubts well founded. 

The films ask the same question philosophers and scientists have been asking for years—how ‘real’ is what we call reality? Is what our senses pick up all there is, or might they deceive us? What’s to say our waking lives are not a vivid dream, or perhaps a very convincing computer simulation? 

For some, these are silly questions—of course we’re living in reality! The difficult part comes when one tries to prove that. 

Early ponderings

Plato is probably the earliest person to raise these question in Republic with the Allegory of the Cave. 

Imagine a group of prisoners chained in a cave, facing a blank wall. There’s a fire behind them and puppets used to cast shadows onto the wall they face. 

For the prisoners, the shadows are reality. It’s all they may ever know. But their reality is untrue. 

Suppose one prisoner escaped. They would see the fire was not sunlight, and the figures on the wall were shadow puppets. If they left the cave, real sunlight would hurt their eyes because they wouldn’t be accustomed to it. They may wish to return to the safety of the cave where things were dark and familiar.

How can a person who knows more return to the old ways? 

Powerful computers of the future

While Rene Descartes and many others have touched on these themes since Plato, Oxford University philosopher and author Nick Bostrom brought the argument into the modern age with “Are you Living in a Computer Simulation?,” a paper he wrote in 2003.

The argument goes like this: 

1. Anyone with even a passing awareness of computer games can see how far we’ve come from early Atari games in a very short period.

2. Assuming any rate of progress at all, Bostrom poses it’s likely our descendants will have extremely powerful computers able to run very realistic simulations. Simulations indistinguishable from reality.

3. Those simulated worlds would be populated by simulated beings.

4. How can we prove we are not one of those beings, dwelling in one of those simulated worlds?

It’s a very difficult thing to do.

michael dziedzic

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

— Arthur C. Clarke

Where this leads

If we assume this argument is correct, there are numerous reactions one could have, among them: 

• If this reality is a simulation, does anything I do really matter?

• Am I the only “real” being in this simulation, or are there others?

• If there aren’t other “real” beings, do I have license to behave immorally?

Sadly, things have already gone in this direction.

In 2003, a teen with undiagnosed mental illness became obsessed with The Matrix. Thinking he was living inside a simulation, he decided to shoot and kill his adoptive parents with a shotgun. The trial spawned what’s now called The Matrix Defense.

Some have made the point that simulation theory is merely a 21st century spin on religious ideas, some of them quite ancient — our relationship with a higher power, living within its Creation, etc. A new film explores these themes — I’m curious to check it out.

Conclusion

When it comes down to it, even if it’s true, does it matter if we are living in a very convincing simulation? 

Only if we realize that this is as real as it gets. As far as we know, this reality is all we have. But there’s a very good chance a lot more is going on than what our senses tell us. 

Epicureans vs Stoics: two approaches to living

chris otchy

There were under the early Roman Empire two rival schools which practically divided the field between them—the Epicureans and the Stoics.

Epicureans are those who followed the example of Epicurus, a philosopher devoted to the study of happiness. He believed the greatest good was to seek modest, sustainable pleasure. Those who follow him feel life is short and therefore to be enjoyed. They indulge in all the sensorial things in life – food, drink, massage, fine clothes and fine wine. They relish in all the world has to offer, and try to enjoy life to the fullest. In extreme forms, Epicureans can be sappy and overly sentimental. Living in the wake of their emotions and passions, they can also be quite unpredictable.

Stoics on the other hand are people who refrain from indulging their senses. They aim to be detached emotionally, experiencing neither extreme pleasure nor pain. They lead lives of restraint and moderation… lives of quiet desperation indeed. Seneca, one of the most famous Stoics, was a lifelong teetotaler and chastised the vices of money, liquor, and materialism. He abhorred all inebriation. He would only take dry, stale bread for food and glorified the virtues of roughshod, simple clothing and cold showers. The Stoics idealize temperance, sobriety, courage, and justice. They recognized that certain emotions—anger, fear, resentment, and envy—are useless expenditures of energy and get one nowhere. Therefore they try to not waste their time with those feelings, and rise above them in order to enjoy life in a more raw manner. Moderation—doing the right thing at the right time in the right amount—is their modus operandi. Like the early Christians, they think that every person’s task is overcome oneself and be stronger than one’s base impulses. Spock is the ideal Stoic — devoted to logic and reason, somewhat cold, detached, half-human and emotionless.

“Let us set the axe to the root, that we being purged of our passions may have a peaceable mind.”

— thomas a kempis

Up until this point in life, I have been very much an Epicurean. I indulge my senses. I give into emotionality. I recognize life is brief and often painful, and therefore try to enjoy what life has to offer. I try to live in a moderately stylish manner, as my means allow. 

But as I read the meditations of Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, I see the wisdom in this way of life. I see how their sense of pratyahara, that detachment from your emotions, can really serve you in making the most reasonable decisions in life.

What good has come from anger and envy? None. And so by acting in a manner that is removed from those emotions, I see how I could live in a much more beneficial manner to myself and those around me. 

Nothing in excess. Doing the right thing in the right amount at the right time — that resonates. It reminds me of the Buddhist principle of the Middle Way. 

Am I going to start eating stale bread and taking cold showers? Not likely, not everyday at least. (Though I do occasionally take cold showers in light of the multiple health benefits). But see now that taking a stoical approach to life has its merits, especially when we are faced with difficult circumstances, like loss and the death of loved ones. 

Taking a stoical approach allows one to not indulge in sentimentality, but rather to move on and continue being productive. Yes, there is certainly a time for sadness and remembering and mourning, but only to a point. After a short period of time, there really is nothing you can do about many of the terrible situations we face. At the end of the day, fear and frustration and sadness are a waste of your time and energy. Concentrate on what you have right now in front of you and what you can do with it. That’s how you move on.

“Even the wealthy are continually met and frustrated by difficult times and situations. It is in no man’s power to have whatever he wants. But it is in his power not to wish for what he hasn’t got, and cheerfully make the most of things that do come his way.”

— Seneca

Stoicism tells us to do the job in front of us rather than thinking we’re better than our tasks or the things we’re facing, or that life is unfair. Seneca tells us it is, and we’re no better and no worse than any other human, so get down to the business of living. The task that seems beneath you, the coworker who annoys you, the job you feel you’re better than—nonsense. Excellence is what we should aspire to.

“We are what we repeatedly do,” so said Aristotle, “therefore excellence is not an act, but a habit.”

All our goals are attainable by making excellence our goal in everything we do. How you do one thing is how you do everything. Words to live by.