I love a good natter: from idle chit-chat through to the philosophical riddles of life. At the lower end of the communication continuum, the topic of talk rarely bewilders or bamboozles me. Similarly, gratuitous gossip – although often exciting as long as I’m not the central character – comes without cerebral strain. I prefer to be flummoxed; eased out of my comfort zone, astounded. This space creates a void that I seek to fill with new and exciting knowledge. Energetic exertion is great for physical wellbeing, but regular positive mind disorientation is quite the tonic for good mental health. In his book, “Learned Optimism: How to Change Your Mind and Your Life,” Professor Martin E. P. Seligman, of the University of Pennsylvania, cites many psychological benefits in addition to physical wins, such as boosting your immune system.
The journey from low risk verbal transactions to the extreme end of dramatic debate isn’t necessarily incremental. I can traverse the distant dots on the dialogue dial with ease ─ possibly, in part, due to my chaotic thought patterns; they create observable blind spots in my consciousness, such as forgetting to put the bins out, or remembering family birthdays.
How I jumped to this particular point of perplexity has subsequently been lost in the ether, but the landing spot was nonetheless clear. The dilemma was exquisite, and on the face of it quite easy to determine: are our lives preordained from birth, or are we at the mercy of chance, chaos, and moments of spontaneous unplanned circumstance?
I instantly dismissed the former claim since it is plainly evident that my life is a litany of mistakes, mishaps, merriment, and misadventure. There is absolutely no room for destiny in my life ─ evidenced by flipflopping careers, relationships, political allegiances, and values; there is only one certainty in my life: my undying support for the world’s oldest and greatest football league club, Notts County. Other than that, my life is random. End of.
Then, almost as immediately as I had denounced this threat to my view of the universe, I began to reflect on the very thing I abhor in others: stubbornness. Did I really have source data to support my indignant posture? As crazy as it seemed, did my opposite number in this compelling conflab actually occupy pole position? Are we simply fulfilling a preprogrammed existence where the unexpected twists and turns are actually part of an existing narrative to which we are unconsciously connected? Was my story written in advance and am I simply an actor in the “Chronicles of Kirke”? I had to do some digging.
I was immediately confronted with reliable source material that reassured me that my trigger point conversation had been uttered by others on many previous occasions, but my shock scale spiked somewhat at the persuasive notion that my friend’s view on life had some significant science in its favour.
Computer simulations have developed to such a degree that they mimic human appearance and behaviours with startling realism. Negotiating across the gameplay is vivid, dynamic, and – to the eye – genuine. The last observation is key, since when a visual element disappears from the screen the programme simply ignores it and renders (the process of generating an image) what you presently are looking at. All available computing power is focused upon what the eye can see. A far-off building can remain indistinct, only to become a more accurate rendition if you decide to get closer. Thus, your chosen field of vision determines how the programme illustrates what you see. Your conscious engagement alters how the computer interacts with you. That’s pretty easy to grasp in virtual life, but real life is different – or at least I once thought so.
I have generally shied away from quantum mechanics. I failed miserably to complete the epic “A Brief History of Time” by Professor Stephen Hawking, but thoroughly enjoyed his lighter read, “Brief Answers to the Big Questions.” In 1998 at the Weizmann Institute Of Science, Israel, a team of boffins conducted the double-slit experiment where electrons are fired through gaps in a copper plate onto a photosensitive screen resulting in an interference pattern creating consistent wavelike behaviour; however, when the experiment is duplicated under observation, the very same electrons behave like particles and no interference pattern is detected. Electrons are either masters of showboating or they are programmed to act in a certain way when human eyes are upon them – just like “Call of Duty.” If that isn’t enough to spook you, in 2017 researchers at the University of Washington hacked into a strand of DNA and successfully encoded malware (malicious software). Our genetic makeup would appear to be more characteristic of a computer programme than the randomness of nature.
Geniuses of science, such as luminaries Sir Isac Newton, Albert Einstein, et al., brought order to our universe by way of the rules of physics; my personal favourite being the latter’s E = mc². Other rules – for instance relating to the speed of light and the value of gravity – provide a pitch perfect digital platform of mathematical orderliness. Max Tegmark, a cosmologist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, asserted, “If I were a character in a computer game, I would also discover, eventually, that the rules seemed completely rigid and mathematical.”
If this welter of evidence doesn’t shift you towards the potential realisation that this is all a figment of your imagination, ponder this one: it may be impossible to prove that you are not living in a high-grade version of SimCity. Professor David Chalmers, from New York University, calmly claims, “You’re not going to get proof that we’re not in a simulation, because any evidence that we get could be simulated.”
Professor Nick Bostrom of the University of Oxford posed the question, “Are you living in a computer simulation?” as a prelude to his philosophical argument that at least one of these propositions is true: (1) the human species is very likely to go extinct before reaching a “posthuman” stage; (2) any posthuman civilization is extremely unlikely to run a significant number of simulations of their evolutionary history (or variations thereof); (3) we are almost certainly living in a computer simulation. Concluding, “In the dark forest of our current ignorance, it seems sensible to apportion one’s credence roughly evenly between (1), (2), and (3).” A 33.33% (recurring – according to my programmed calculator) chance that everything we hold dear is fake. A mind boggling statistical suggestion that has led the odd observer to propose that the simulation argument is a persuasive argument of the existence of a Creator ─ perhaps that entity who turned our initial programme on ─ the big bang! Elon Musk – arguably a guy that knows a tad about technology – is even more pessimistic about the reality I championed in my original exchange with my friend, contending “There’s a billion to one chance we’re living in base reality.”
If your head is wobbling at this juncture just take a deep breath and think of the intimate scene between Darth Vadar and Luke Skywalker. In “Star Wars: Episode V ─ The Empire Strikes Back.” What did the man in black say when the issue of parentage was discussed? Close your eyes and make a mental note of the exact line.
Be honest – you said, “Luke, I am your father.” The actual dialogue is, “No. I am your father.” This – and many other similar examples – are cited as evidence of the Mandela effect; coined by Fiona Broome in 2009 after she reflected upon her own experience of the mass media coverage of the death of Nelson Mandela in the 1980s ─ when he actually passed away in 2013 ─ she discovered that a mass of others also claimed to recall the 1980s coverage. Simulation theorists contend that these are simply glitches in the programme. In the UK a bug called “BREXIT” produced the most perverse outcome when a country voted to impose trade sanctions against itself, and latterly voted in a pathological liar as prime minister. A forthcoming general election may begin to repair this self-inflicted economic injury, but I have a saner solution – turn the UK off and on again.
In my attempt to finally prove that I’m living in the Matrix, I called upon the sage advice of artificial intelligence (AI) by posing the question, “How do I hack my simulated life?” The answer was swift:
“That’s an interesting question. According to some philosophers and scientists, simulated life means that our existence is a computer-generated reality that may or may not be aware of its artificial nature. Some proponents of this idea are Elon Musk and Nick Bostrom, who argue that it is more likely that we are living in a simulation than in a base reality. However, this hypothesis is very controversial and has been criticised by others as pseudoscience or impractical.
There are some possible ways to test if we are living in a simulation, such as looking for bugs or gaps in the program that runs our universe or trying to hack the simulation by using methods such as transhumanism, meditation, or cheats. However, these methods are not conclusive and may have ethical or existential implications.
Why do you want to hack your simulated life? Do you think it would make you happier or more free?”
The last sentence was chilling since AI spoke to me with the unambiguous assumption that my life was indeed synthetic.
In finally experiencing a full one hundred and eighty degrees turn on this most compelling of arguments, I am left – supported by the legal certainty of the balance of probabilities – accepting that I am indeed existing in a sophisticated game of Pac-Man. Time to have some fun and hack from the inside – wish me luck!
©Ian Kirke 2023
@ianjkirke
Title Photograph by Sebastian Mark on Unsplash