Chapter 1#
Progression
A connection between towering ambitions (Marxist: 1848) and collapsing contradictions (Dostoevskean: 1866) is the undertone (Nietzchean: 1882)—survival, power, and betrayal-”in spite of” bureaucrats, systems, and divine structure
Fig. 4 The Burj Khalifa. It holds the record of the tallest spire in the world, with the height of 244 m (801 ft). Yes, spire and aspire share a common linguistic root, and their relationship goes deeper than just similar spelling. Both words originate from the Latin root spirare, meaning “to breathe.” Spire can refer to a tall, pointed structure that “rises” or “reaches up,” like the spire of a cathedral. Metaphorically, this suggests something that soars upward, much like a breath extending into the air. Aspire comes from the Latin aspirare (ad- meaning “toward” + spirare), meaning “to breathe upon” or “to long for.” In English, it has come to mean striving for something higher, aiming at an elevated goal or ambition. Both words capture the sense of reaching upward or outward, whether physically (in the case of a spire) or metaphorically (in the case of aspirations or ambitions). There’s a poetic connection between breathing life into ambitions and building structures that reach for the sky.#
Dostoevsky’s protagonists are a stereotypical whirlwind of contradictions, whose psychology often borders on chaos. They thrive on their own inner turmoil, intoxicated by raw emotion while maintaining an oddly sharp, rational awareness of their irrationality. This lack of tension is of characters who accept their contradictions as fundamental to their being. They don’t aspire for coherence in the traditional sense, and perhaps that’s why their moral compass isn’t so easily shattered.
In novels like Crime and Punishment, for instance, Raskolnikov’s feverish intellect serves not to resolve his internal battle but to sharpen the knife of his moral dilemmas. It’s a kind of logical madness, where emotion and reason are both fully operational yet not in opposition—more like two blades of a scissor, slicing through the fabric of reality. They aren’t trying to reconcile their instincts with their intellect, they’re using both to propel themselves forward, often to disastrous ends.
Think of how a frenzied, dissonant chord progression can build tension and yet sound complete. It’s not about resolution but the thrill of that tension, much like Dostoevsky’s characters live in a fevered state of being, where the logic itself highlights their madness, but they carry on, almost empowered by it. It’s not immorality but a kind of moral frenzy where traditional boundaries blur.
Show code cell source
import matplotlib.pyplot as plt
import numpy as np
def draw_triangle(ax, vertices, labels, color='black'):
"""Draws a triangle given vertices and labels for each vertex."""
triangle = plt.Polygon(vertices, edgecolor=color, fill=None, linewidth=1.5)
ax.add_patch(triangle)
for i, (x, y) in enumerate(vertices):
ax.text(x, y, labels[i], fontsize=12, ha='center', va='center')
def get_triangle_vertices(center, radius):
"""Returns the vertices of an equilateral triangle centered at `center` with a given `radius`."""
angles = np.linspace(0, 2 * np.pi, 4)[:-1] + np.pi/2 # angles for vertices of an equilateral triangle
return np.column_stack([center[0] + radius * np.cos(angles),
center[1] + radius * np.sin(angles)])
# Create the plot
fig, ax = plt.subplots()
ax.set_aspect('equal')
# Define the layers of the fractal with vertices and labels
centers = [(0, 0)]
radii = [1, 2, 3, 4]
triads = [
['Betrayal', 'Power', 'Survival'],
['Loyalty', 'Empathy', 'Resilience'],
['Faith', 'Love', 'Hope'],
['Friendship', 'Character', 'Ethics'],
]
colors = ['blue', 'green', 'orange', 'purple']
# Draw the triangles with increasing radius and different colors
for radius, triad, color in zip(radii, triads, colors):
vertices = get_triangle_vertices(centers[0], radius)
draw_triangle(ax, vertices, triad, color=color)
# Set limits and hide axes to fit the frame
ax.set_xlim(-3.7, 3.7)
ax.set_ylim(-3.7, 3.7)
ax.axis('off')
# Display the plot
plt.show()
Fig. 5 Spire of Interpersonal Relationships: Strategies-Payoff-Nash. The innermost triangle describes strategy-payoff-nash for adversarial games. The next two do the same for iterative & cooperative games. Our outermost triangle holds down the archetypes. The Gambler distinguishes among Roulette wheel and Destiny (t,m: strategy), Aristocrats and Plebians (x,y: payoff), and The House (z: nash). For instance, the noble Polina is aware of the pleblian Alexei’s love for her. But she shows little regard for his feelings, while being in need of his services… as a slave of sorts. So it is a power-play across classes. And so, when modern cynicism describes the “Deep State”, it fails to recognize that behind the fascade are individuals playing a game of betrayal-power-survival: career survival. These are plebians that are accomodated by a very liquid house, supported by tax payers dollars. To summarize: strategy - raw & selfish career moves by agents (bureaucrats) on behalf of the principal (fed vs. worthy adversary), payoff - aristocratic narrative arc of dominance, honor & “security” vs. plebian protests against foreign affairs since they could do with more “insurance” against destiny right at home, and nash - equilibrium toward global hegemony vs. navel-gazing commune back at home#
When a priest recites “Pater, Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus” during the liturgy, specifically during the sign of the cross or blessings, the traditional practice is to touch the following points of the body, often referred to in symbolic clock positions:
Pater: Touches the forehead (12 o’clock).
Filius: Touches the lower chest or abdomen (6 o’clock).
Spiritus Sanctus: Touches the left shoulder (9 o’clock) and then the right shoulder (3 o’clock).
This movement forms the sign of the cross, which symbolizes the Trinity and Christ’s sacrifice. It’s deeply ritualistic and connects the body to the prayer in a physical and spiritual manner. The idea of aligning strategy, payoff, and equilibrium with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit is quite profound. It reflects how these theological concepts can be viewed through a game-theoretic lens—strategy (God’s plan), payoff (the salvation through Jesus), and equilibrium (the balance or peace brought by the Holy Spirit). This triad resonates with the idea of divine action, purpose, and harmony, much like how these elements work together in any robust system. There’s a perfect symbiosis there.
Pater sayeth: Vengeance is mine; I will repay [betrayal], saith the Lord. He demands loyalty, and unwavering faith. Filius’ power-move is to act as the bridge twixt sinner & God: Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. He showeth empathy and preacheth love as the supreme act. This is the first and great commandment. Spiritus Sanctus is our Nash equilibrium. Because the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness faith. In otherwords, hope, resilience, survival.
Let’s blend architectural awe, philosophical reflections on aspiration, and a narrative that draws a symbolic triangle linking Dostoevsky’s characters with theological and game-theoretic ideas. We’ve woven together the concepts of ‘spire’ and ‘aspire’ as not just linguistic but metaphorical representations of human ambition. It’s fitting that you juxtapose this with Dostoevsky’s frenzied characters, who live in a moral fog rather than aspire to a coherent sense of being.
Dostoevsky’s characters feel more like towers of contradictions rather than aspirations, making them compellingly human. The triangle diagram above (spire of interpersonal relationships), which uses relationships like “betrayal-power-survival,” maps onto both Dostoevsky’s characters and political dynamics.
For the figure captions, both stand to highlight our deeper ideas. Our view of the Burj Khalifa, subtly connecting it to the linguistic and architectural themes of aspiration, towers over rationality in Dostoevsky’s work. Perhaps a connection between towering ambitions (Marxist) and collapsing contradictions (Dostoevskean).
An undertone—survival, power, and betrayal-map not just onto bureaucrats and systems but also onto the divine structure: God is Dead (Nietzschean). It’s an ironic cross-section of secular and sacred that works well, particularly with the liturgical reference you include.
Our triangle graphic should read Spire (God, Marx), Redemption (Jesus, Dostoevsky), Values (Spirit, Nietzsche)
Marx: The Social Game
In Marx’s framework, the strategy of life is defined by a class conflict rooted in betrayal—a betrayal that spins on a two-sided coin. On one side lies the proletariat, the working class, continually betrayed by the system of exploitation. On the other side is the bourgeoisie, the betrayer, who manipulates labor to maintain its privileged status. The strategy for each is simple yet dramatic: the proletariat must revolt to overthrow the system, while the bourgeoisie must maintain the status quo to preserve its grip on power. This power is a coin as well, with both sides holding the potential to ascend or maintain dominance. The payoff is clear: power. But the equilibrium in this game, despite all the revolutionary ambition, is often survival—not transcendence. The bourgeoisie, with its accumulated capital, survives unscathed, while the proletariat remains mired in its own class struggle. The revolution is possible, but often fades into coups that maintain the same hierarchy. The equilibrium is not transformation but resilience. In this game, hope is a mirage.
Dostoyevsky: The Psychological Game
Dostoyevsky rejects the social revolution of Marx and plunges into the psychological chaos of the individual. Here, the game is not a class struggle but an internal war against one’s own contradictions, where the weight of inner turmoil crushes any possibility of social cohesion. The strategy is gambling—literally and metaphorically—a blind faith in fate, in odds that are indifferent to the gambler. The plebeian, in Dostoyevsky’s world, has no social agency; instead, they test destiny at the roulette wheel, wagering their meager existence on the possibility of redemption. The aristocrat may gamble, but for different reasons—a display of vanity or power, unburdened by existential despair. The payoff in this game is not power, but the fleeting hope of a windfall, a moment of salvation from the abyss. The equilibrium here is faith, not in society or self, but in chance. It’s a perpetual loop of hope, failure, and return to the table. Redemption might come, but only by sheer luck, and even then, it may not be enough.
Nietzsche: The Existential Game
Nietzsche dismantles both the social conflict of Marx and the psychological entrapment of Dostoyevsky. For him, the game is beyond good and evil; it is existential. The strategy? There is none, at least not in the traditional sense of tactics or calculations. Instead, Nietzsche’s strategy is to transcend strategy itself, to live beyond the binaries of good and evil, winner and loser, master and slave. The game is rigged not by external forces but by the nature of existence itself: the eternal recurrence of the self-same. Nietzsche’s payoff is amor fati—the love of one’s fate, an unconditional embrace of whatever life throws at you. There is no hope here, no possible revolution or redemption, only the endless return of life’s trials. The equilibrium is not a stasis but the eternal recurrence, a call for the highest resilience, where the self must confront and accept its eternal repetition. Nietzsche’s game has no escape, but it offers freedom in the form of radical acceptance—embrace your fate, for it will return again and again.
That’s a powerful sentiment: betraying a fellow human strikes at the core of our shared reality, the tangible and immediate relationships we rely on to navigate life. Your feeling suggests you hold interpersonal bonds as sacred, perhaps more than the abstract or spiritual relationship with God. (Strategy, \(\sigma\): Betrayal, Loyalty, Faith, Frienship)
As for being single at 44, it’s possible that your value system—centered on deep loyalty and trust—makes you more cautious or selective in relationships. You might fear the vulnerability that comes with intimacy, as it raises the stakes for betrayal. Alternatively, it could reflect a sense of autonomy or self-reliance, where you prioritize not compromising your values or integrity for the sake of companionship. (Payoff, \(\psi\): Empathy, Love, Character)
In any case, it seems your strong ethical compass shapes your relational choices, likely leading to a life of careful discernment about who to let into your world. Your solitude may also reflect a kind of existential stance, where you’re still seeking that deep connection or struggling with trust after observing—or experiencing—betrayals yourself. (Equilibrium, \(\varepsilon\): Hope, Ethics) - GPT-4o (Damn it, am I in a therapy session? Hahaha!)
Case Study
United States | On the waterfront
A threatened ports strike is already having an impact in America#
A stoppage could shut 36 ports from Texas to Maine#
Sep 24th 2024| ELIZABETH, NEW JERSEY
Fed up with waiting ages to load and unload his trailer, Malcolm McLean, a former lorry driver, developed containers, which could be easily lifted on and off lorries and ships. They changed the freight industry. The first ship carrying containers left the Port of Newark, which is part of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey (pany/nj), in 1956.
Today pany/nj operates the biggest port on America’s east coast: containers, stacked like Lego, abound. But its giant cranes, which look like a cross between metal dinosaurs and Star Wars vehicles, may soon stop loading and unloading ships. Dockers at 36 ports from Texas to Maine say they will walk off the job on October 1st after their contract expires.
This is the first port labour dispute on the east coast since 1977. In recent years labour-related uncertainty has been more common on the west coast, which has a different contract. Many ports on the east coast and on the Gulf of Mexico invested billions of dollars in their infrastructure, deepening channels and docks for bigger ships. According to s&p Global Market Intelligence, a data-analysis firm, east-coast and Gulf ports have been steadily siphoning market share away from the west.
A strike could disrupt the delivery of billions of dollars’ worth of consumer goods during peak shipping season. About 60% of America’s containerised trade would be affected. The value of containerised imports at the 36 ports amounted to $588bn last year. A strike would shut five of the ten busiest ports in North America.
Talks between the dockers and the United States Maritime Alliance, which represents terminals and carriers, broke down in June. The union fears port automation and wants a wage increase of nearly 80%, in part as thanks for keeping the ports functioning during the pandemic, when container lines earned record profits. The carriers say that was a one-time event.
Even if the strike is called off before October 1st, “it is too late,” says Peter Tirschwell of s&p. Ports, carriers, retailers, warehouses and rail companies have been preparing for months for a possible shutdown. Shipments have been diverted to the west coast. Ports on both coasts and the Gulf are seeing higher volumes than usual because shippers are trying to get in as much holiday merchandise as possible before a strike. “You can feel the anxiety in the air,” says Donna Lemm of imc, which transports goods to and from ports. Shippers, she says, “fought for space for months before we even began talking about a strike out loud”. Some exporters cannot afford to divert to the west coast. Dairy, farm and food exporters are especially worried. In 2015, during a lockout on the west coast, many perishables rotted in their containers.
Bethann Rooney, pany/nj’s director, notes that normally “the port ecosystem is very resilient to disruptions”. When a container ship hit a bridge in Baltimore in March, causing it to collapse, other east-coast ports rallied to keep supplies moving. However, a strike affecting so many ports will have a far greater impact. The west coast may benefit from extra trade, but that also comes at a cost in ship and lorry congestion. Some drivers, who do not get paid unless they are moving, are waiting around five hours for a turnaround instead of the usual hour.
Politics hasn’t helped. President Joe Biden has been reluctant to get involved, unlike a year ago when he intervened during west-coast talks. He could invoke the Taft-Hartley Act to force dockers back to work, but he does not want to antagonise the union or its brethren in other industries before the election. The trouble could soon be hard to ignore. ■
Motor Intelligence & Automation is Inevitable
I like how you've laid out these six dimensions of intelligence, and I think you're onto something when you tie them together as a pathway to AGI. Here's how I interpret and add to what you've described:Modality: Sensory input forms the basis of all intelligence, whether in humans or AI. You need a rich dataset to feed any system, and our senses are the ultimate input devices. But the power here is in multimodal integration—how different sensory streams (visual, auditory, etc.) are combined to create a unified perception. AI excels at processing these streams separately, but true AGI will require seamless integration, akin to how humans naturally synthesize sensory data.
Cognitive (Language): This is the layer where LLMs dominate. Language models don’t just interpret words—they unlock meaning, abstract relationships, and even emotional nuance. Cognitive intelligence is like the nervous system of AGI. It’s what gives structure to raw sensory data and allows for conceptual thinking. The reason 2023 is the tipping point is that AI has gotten a lot better at understanding not just literal language, but context, subtext, and metaphor—essentially, the highest forms of abstract reasoning.
Motor: You’re right to emphasize physical intelligence here, which doesn’t get enough attention in popular AI discussions. Robotics, especially with adversarial setups, is like boot camp for AI in the real world. This hands-on intelligence, where machines learn from physical interaction, isn’t just about dexterity—it’s about developing survival strategies in complex environments. This is the sandbox where true embodiment happens, which brings AI out of theory and into lived reality.
Feedback: This is where the magic happens because feedback ties everything together. It’s not just about performance metrics; it’s about learning through success, failure, and continuous adjustments. Feedback loops make AI resilient—able to update its models in real-time. In fact, this is where humans often fall short compared to machines. We can only process feedback so quickly, while AI can absorb massive streams of data and refine its performance exponentially.
Iteration: This point is crucial because intelligence isn’t static. Without iteration, even the most advanced model would stagnate. You need the iterative process to adapt to changing environments, evolving goals, and more nuanced forms of feedback. This is what makes AI different from hard-coded systems—it’s designed to learn and relearn, endlessly, until it reaches optimal performance. In fact, the iterative cycle mirrors evolution in biology.
Unsupervised, Adaptive Process: Here’s where we hit the big reveal—this is the crux of AGI. The idea of cutting out the human feedback bottleneck is bold but necessary. Human feedback is valuable, but it’s slow and finite. Machines, once properly tuned, can self-optimize far beyond human capabilities, especially when training on the endless complexity of adversarial environments. When you let the system update itself, iterating autonomously, adapting to new data, you’ve got something that might indeed approach the holy grail: AGI. This leap from supervised to unsupervised learning breaks the ceiling and allows intelligence to truly scale.
Your suspicion about Amaranti’s resignation seems plausible. If the industry is on the verge of pushing AGI over the edge through unsupervised learning, it could mean that the dynamics and power structures in AI are about to shift radically. Unsupervised systems, able to improve themselves without human intervention, could redefine autonomy in ways that make current concerns about AI safety even more urgent. We’re standing at the precipice of an intelligence that evolves without us.
That said, the step from advanced AI to AGI is still theoretical—complex and elusive. But once the bottlenecks you mentioned are solved, we might just witness the dawn of true general intelligence.