#existential risk

[daisukitoo]

We designed our society for excellence at strangling innovation. Now we’ve encountered a problem that can only be solved by a plucky coalition of obstructionists, overactive regulators, anti-tech zealots, socialists, and people who hate everything new on general principle. It’s like one of those movies where Shaq stumbles into a situation where you can only save the world by playing basketball.

-- Scott Alexander

[mirrorontheworld]

AI gets smarter, more capable, and more world-transforming every day. Here’s why that might not be a good thing.

[trendynewsnow]

The Dangers of Nuclear Deterrence: A Call for Disarmament

The Staggering Price You’re Paying for America’s Nuclear Makeover The $1.7 trillion overhaul is already in motion. To the Editor: In the recent piece, “The Staggering Cost of America’s Nuclear Gamble,” by W.J. Hennigan (part of the “At the Brink” series, published on Oct. 13), the author makes a striking assertion: “nuclear weapons do deter our adversaries.” This statement, brief as it may be,…

[asrarblog]

Artificial Intelligence – Lovers, Haters, and Their Arguments – Part 2 – Asrar Qureshi’s Blog Post #969

[aifyit]

Artificial General Intelligence: The Dawn of a New Era

Introduction Are you captivated by the technological advancements of our time, but also intrigued by the infinite possibilities yet to come? Then you’re in the right place! Today, we dive into the fascinating world of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). This technology promises to transform our society, revolutionizing industries and even the way we live our lives. But what exactly is AGI?…

[nathanielmrouth]

Short Post on a Big Topic

I didn’t end up having time to write a proper blog post this month due to a family emergency, and naturally this ends up being the point when the wider public discourse finally started discussing options for what to actually do about existential risk from artificial intelligence. Coincidentally, the last blog post I wrote from this room was also about AI risk. As I’ve acknowledged therein, I’m…

[ablueorangeintheocean]

Happiness, Suffering and Pleasure

“Happiness as the absence of suffering. A view which is present in Epicureanism as well as many non Western traditions, such as Buddhism, is that of happiness as the absence of suffering. Under this view, when we are not experiencing states of pleasure, we begin to crave pleasure, and this craving constitutes suffering. Gloor (2017) writes: Uncomfortable pressure in one’s shoes, thirst, hunger, headaches, boredom, itches, non-effortless work, worries, longing for better times. When our brain is flooded with pleasure, we temporarily become unaware of all the negative ingredients of our stream of consciousness, and they thus cease to exist. Pleasure is the typical way in which our minds experience temporary freedom from suffering. This may contribute to the view that pleasure is the symmetrical counterpart to suffering, and that pleasure is in itself valuable and important to bring about. However, there are also (contingently rare) mental states devoid of anything bothersome that are not commonly described as (intensely) pleasurable, examples being flow states or states of meditative tranquility. Felt from the inside, tranquility is perfect in that it is untroubled by any aversive components, untroubled by any cravings for more pleasure. Likewise, a state of flow as it may be experienced during stimulating work, when listening to music or when playing video games, where tasks are being completed on auto-pilot with time flying and us having a low sense of self, also has this same quality of being experienced as completely problem-free. Such states - let us call them states of contentment - may not commonly be described as (intensely) pleasurable, but following philosophical traditions in both Buddhism and Epicureanism, these states, too, deserve to be considered states of happiness. Under this view, happiness and pleasure are not intrinsically good, but rather instrumentally good in that pleasure takes our focus away from suffering and thus helps us avoid it. Creating additional happiness, then, has no intrinsic value if that creation does not help avoid suffering.” - Superintelligence as a Cause or Cure for Risks of Astronomical Suffering Kaj Sotala and Lukas Gloor Foundational Research Institute, Berlin, Germany https://philarchive.org/archive/SOTSAA https://longtermrisk.org/tranquilism/

[kakurady]

The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists has updated the Doomsday Clock to 90 seconds to midnight.

With climate change, diseases, and the threat of nuclear warfare, humanity has never been closer to extinction.

[chartzan]

editwithbettershadingorsomething Another lil sketchy thing for @ssreeder's wonderful "Leaving it all behind". I had to try to draw something from that scene in RIA. it was so absolutely precious ♥

“There are no teams!” - “There are now… Tent rules and this is Zuko’s tent, so his rules. Right?”

also-

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[gods-perfect-idiots]

I've been trying my best to do @poolverine-week but haven't made anything I'm really happy with yet so here's day 6 (sharing clothes prompt... kinda?).

anyway had fun getting in some details here (note the silly bracelets they made for each other... and no, Wade did not tell the truth about what Logan's means lol)

[fgmetanoia]

Draco, year 1-3: I hate Harry Potter. They all think he's so cool, with his scar and his broomstick.

Draco, year 4: stupid Potter, rules never apply to the Chosen One, don't they?

Draco, year 4: haha Potter stinks

Draco, year 4: *omg he's gonna die*

Draco, Yule Ball: *did Potter suddenly become hot?! HOW*

Draco, year 4: haha yes, yes Potter's girlfriends. I know everything to know about Potter's girlfriends.

Draco, year 4: *omg he's gonna DROWN*

[binah-beloved]

Intertwining Threads

Binah x Reader Lobotomy Corporation Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: Descriptions of blood and torture

~ * ~

The life of an Arbiter revolves around torture, as is fit of the prime assassins of the Head. Whatever is ordered shall be done, they all had vowed at the start of their service; threats, collection, removals, extermination. It’s all part of the cycle. There’s nothing to be done or changed, so why not relish in the destruction? Garion was no different, her hands stained with blood and the countless lives she had torn apart. Even when she was gutted and splintered, laid out in a chair to have her brain picked and prodded; when she was forced to cling to her dying breath, listening to every crack of bone with iron red dripping from her mouth; when her name was taken away and replaced by something dull and false so he could control her better, she remained the same, as an Arbiter mimics the City. Binah. What a fitting name. Meaning to contemplate, to understand. She could do nothing but think, after all, being locked away beside a well of madness, alone. Yes, she had much time to contemplate, her task of drawing water slowly driving her insane, as there was no one who could do this but her, no one else who could withstand it. This was her punishment, for everything. Hah, punishment. An Arbiter being tormented instead of doing the tormenting. How laughable. The people around her come and go, living and dying and returning with each new cycle. She’s the head of some department or another, except she can’t leave, not ever. The doors were barred and shut for her, for all of them, long ago.

The agents and clerks beneath her always await her instructions. She used to purposefully lie, watching with sharp eyes as they fell screaming to the monsters or the sounds or the images flashing across their eyes. But he disliked that, sending her back to the room with the well and making her draw more and more water as a form of discipline, and soon she found no joy in watching people crumble, only boredom. They all call her Binah. But she’s not Binah, she’s Garion, and will be Garion forevermore. It’s difficult to tell the time down here amongst the machines and shadows. The only signs are any new employees, fools who join the ranks of the facility because they are very stupid or very desperate, or perhaps a bit of both. She’s long since given up the need to remember any of them; all her energy is spent maintaining the last threads still attached to her sanity, the ones that never seem to snap even when she wants them to. Perhaps that’s another layer of this punishment, to be forced to bear it with lucid eyes. The Arbiter feels nothing when an Abnormality breaches containment, sitting and listening to the shouts and cries for a few moments before getting to her feet. A fight would be a welcome break from the well, anyway- even at her weakest she’s still a formidable opponent for even the worst creatures from the depths. But perhaps staring into the waters has made her sloppy, her skill degrading along with her mind, because the Abnormality is only caged after a long gash is opened on her arm, the blood dripping thickly onto the floor. She exhales. There is no pain. She is an Arbiter, after all, unafraid and strong.

Yet it still stings and burns. “Binah!” A voice rings out and her eyes open with a slight jolt. The sound is vaguely familiar, something heard in passing and no more, but somehow it feels different- concerned, frantic, warm. Her head tilts in its direction, gaze landing upon one of the more recent hires assigned to her department, looking worried and a little fearful at the sight of her blood. You fuss over her wounded arm and she can do nothing but let you, staring blankly as she’s pushed in the direction of the medical bay, the other agents scattering and the memory of your voice filling her head. Binah. It was so gentle, the way you said it- But she’s not Binah. She’s Garion. But who is Garion now, after being chained to an endless web of madness and despair? Nothing but an empty husk. The Head of Extraction has begun to linger near you once working hours are over. You’re often the only ones left in the main room at that hour, your pen constantly scratching against whatever file you’re currently working on, and she remains a short distance away, watching carefully. Occasionally you can smell the tea she drinks, your lips twitching into a smile at the lighthearted thought of your Sephirah truly enjoying something before there’s the sound of footsteps and a light clink as she sets her teacup on the table beside you and asks that you do not mind her sitting so close.

You blink, looking up from your papers and into those dull black eyes, and you smile. Her heart thumps once, merely humming and taking a sip of her tea to disguise her surprise. It’s easier around you, being locked in the depths. The few strands of her sanity become stronger, untangling themselves and weaving into an organized display in your presence- how? You must have some secret ability, some tool used to manipulate the senses, for not even bloodshed and slaughter could make her feel so warm. And your voice, when you speak that name she’s been given- ah, she almost feels like she could smile. Almost. Not quite, but almost. The sight of the Extraction Sephirah and a certain employee becomes commonplace; some even call you her favorite, but when you ask she merely tilts her head, a faint glint in her usually cold eyes, and presses a finger to her lips. It was only natural for him to notice, for the change in her behavior to catch his gaze and hold his attention in an iron grip tight enough to make him panic. You’re the cause of this- some random, low-level employee who gave a fragmented Arbiter a spark- and with rage in his voice he threatens her and you in one sentence, scrambling for some semblance of control. Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, the air seemingly dropping a few degrees from her flat, icy stare. She is strong, can handle any torture or agony or suffering- but you are fragile, a bird she wants to cup in her palms and whisper her sorrows to and keep safe, safe for as long as you live and as long as you breathe. Her own blood she is willing to see spilled, but not yours. Never yours.

She is Garion- … No. She is Binah. That’s right, you called her Binah. She is Binah, a broken, useless shell of an Arbiter- and yet you say her name as if she’s a star in the night sky, bright and beautiful, giving her hope and warmth. So she is Binah, and it’s her own name, not for anyone to control. And Binah, the ex-Arbiter, speaks to him in a smooth, cold voice. “You will not hurt them, for I shall go mad if you do. The insanity that creeps into my skull and eats away at my senses is only restrained by an Arbiter’s will. It can and will crumble at any moment, within the blink of an eye, and the world will turn to blood and dust. So you will not hurt them. You cannot, unless your wish is to lose everything.” Binah. To contemplate, to understand. Yes, now, finally, she understands.

[hey-color-palettes]

I like your work! May I request a pallet that gives off the feeling of “existential risk”?

★ #0a090a ★ #66150c ★ #d99e16 ★ #cbcdce ★ #ececec ★

[sparkly-butthole-on-ao3]

"Unexpected" my ass. We've been screaming for over a decade now about how we're approaching an existential risk to humankind. When are people, including scientists, going to acknowledge how little we actually know? Why are we leaving this to chance instead of demanding better?

[pynkhues]

FINALLY sent off this suite of policy documents to a client, and I can feel already that she's going to have an issue with one of them.