You'd be inclined to, but no, of the little we do understand about human perception, we do understand enough by now to say that different people can genuinely experience and perceive the world differently, sometimes wildly so.
Look into aphantasia (lack of mental imagery), anendophasia (lack of inner voice).
You are baffled because of your own ignorance of the underlying principles under discussion. Do you believe in a dualist interpretation of reality, that the process of thinking is somehow nonphysical? That these programs operate on language is besides the point. The fact you think this is why it's interesting shows you don't even understand the argument.
Are you familiar with the physical church turing thesis?
Oh I enjoyed the Sign Painter short story it wrote.
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Teodor painted signs for forty years in the same shop on Vell Street, and for thirty-nine
of them he was angry about it.
Not at the work. He loved the work — the long pull of a brush loaded just right, the way
a good black sat on primed board like it had always been there. What made him angry
was the customers. They had no eye. A man would come in wanting COFFEE over his
door and Teodor would show him a C with a little flourish on the upper bowl, nothing
much, just a small grace note, and the man would say no, plainer, and Teodor would
make it plainer, and the man would say yes, that one, and pay, and leave happy, and
Teodor would go into the back and wash his brushes harder than they needed.
He kept a shelf in the back room. On it were the signs nobody bought — the ones he'd
made the way he thought they should be made, after the customer had left with the
plain one. BREAD with the B like a loaf just risen. FISH in a blue that took him a week to
mix. Dozens of them. His wife called it the museum of better ideas. She did not mean it
kindly, and she was not wrong.
The thirty-ninth year, a girl came to apprentice. She was quick and her hand was
steady and within a month she could pull a line as clean as his. He gave her a job:
APOTEK, for the chemist on the corner, green on white, the chemist had been very
clear. She brought it back with a serpent worked into the K, tiny, clever, you had to look
twice.
"He won't take it," Teodor said.
"It's better," she said.
"It is better," he said. "He won't take it."
She painted it again, plain, and the chemist took it and paid and was happy, and she
went into the back and washed her brushes harder than they needed, and Teodor
watched her do it and something that had been standing up in him for thirty-nine
years sat down.
He took her to the shelf. She looked at the signs a long time.
"These are beautiful," she said.
"Yes."
"Why are they here?"
He had thought about this for thirty-nine years and had many answers and all of them
were about the customers and none of them had ever made him less angry. So he tried
a different one.
"Because nobody stands in the street to look at a sign," he said. "They look at it to find
the shop. A man a hundred yards off needs to know it's coffee and not a cobbler. If he
has to look twice, I've made a beautiful thing and a bad sign."
"Then what's the skill for?"
"The skill is so that when he looks once, it's also not ugly." He picked up FISH, the blue
one, turned it in the light. "This is what I can do. What he needs is a small part of what I
can do. The rest I get to keep."
She thought about that. "It doesn't feel like keeping. It feels like not using."
"Yes," he said. "For a long time. And then one day you have an apprentice, and she puts a
serpent in a K, and you see it from the outside, and it stops feeling like a thing they're
taking from you and starts feeling like a thing you're giving. The plain one, I mean. The
plain one is the gift. This —" the blue FISH — "this is just mine."
The fortieth year he was not angry. Nothing else changed. The customers still had no
eye. He still sometimes made the second sign, after, the one for the shelf. But he
washed his brushes gently, and when the girl pulled a line cleaner than his, which
happened more and more, he found he didn't mind that either
It's like how I used to be a master codes craftsman, and I'd write beautiful code even a novice could understand. Clear, concise, 100% automated tested, maintainable for decades.
But frequently, my managers would castigate me. Tell me how my "velocity" was down. PIP me.
These days, I train AI how to write this beautiful code and I don't write a single line any more.
People wonder how I build such amazing things in a week now, yet don't write any code. I have trained master apprentices, gemma3, qwen3.5 and Kimi k2.5 who do the work for me.
There is a similar theme in both of an artistic person not wanting to compromise their vision to suit common tastes. But this goes in a completely different direction than Rand.
Well of course in 700 pages you'll be about way more than any super short story as this one. But it's there for me quite vividly. Of course LLMs give an amalgamation of many things, but it's like when you look at AI generated pictures and can see the base of the inspiration quite vividly. And then all of this is subjective anyway. People review that book and come away with wildly different interpretations already.
I don't mean that Rand wrote more. I mean that her idea was different and nearly opposite. This is a short story about an artist learning to reframe their frustration with customers wanting utility over artistry as a positive. The similarity to Rand is in the first few sentences. The point is entirely different.
If you judge stories to be the same based on this level of similarity, then The Fountainhead is just the same as a dozen older stories with the artist vs the philistine theme. It was common before Rand. As T. S. Eliot said, "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal".
Well you kind of are, because you're claiming that just because birds willingly spend time in a cage with open doors, it's different than a bird in a locked cage. That's a claim that you're making. So, the question stands, what are you basing that off of?
So I was saying that rust monolithicism is NOT based on ignorance and naivety.
Do you see what I mean by nuance? I think you just glanced at the comment, saw that there were negative words around rust, and you lossy compressed into "Rust bad".
For the qualities we care about, it may turn out to be the case we don't need to simulate matter perfectly. We may not need to concern ourselves with the fractal complexity of reality if we identify the right higher level abstractions with which to operate on. This phenomenon is known as causal emergence.
> That is, a macroscale description of a system (a map) can be more informative than a fully detailed microscale description of the system (the territory). This has been called “causal emergence.”
> A highly compressed description of the system then emerges at the macro level that captures those dynamics of the micro level that matter to the macroscale behavior — filtered, as it were, through the nested web of intermediate ε-machines. In that case, the behavior of the macro level can be predicted as fully as possible using only macroscale information — there is no need to refer to finer-scale information. It is, in other words, fully emergent. The key characteristic of this emergence, the researchers say, is this hierarchical structure of “strongly lumpable causal states.”
Who are "we", and why would I care about them here?
There are situations where approximations are good enough for simulations, sure, but that's not the subject here.
I reject the idea that chatbots have feelings or intellect because they output text that is similar to what a human might write in some hypothetical situation or other. To the extent that they can have those properties, it is to the same extent as Clark Kent can, if one were to accept such a conflatory and confused discourse.
Oh there is truth behind the phenomenon of UFOs. Public perception is changing but many still understandably view this topic as conspiracy. This won't be the case for long.
Look into aphantasia (lack of mental imagery), anendophasia (lack of inner voice).
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