I’ll start with something most people don’t know about me: I can’t drive.

(This will seem like a total non sequitur, but hang in there, I’ll deliver the goods, trust me.)

I’ve driven rally cars at high speed down treacherous dirt tracks. I’ve competitively raced quad bikes. I’ve taken a Dodge Viper to almost half the speed of sound.

But… I don’t have a driving license. A little odd, considering I once dreamt of being the world’s greatest rally driver.

The question that everyone inevitably asks is ‘Why don’t get your license?’ I’ve even owned and insured 3 cars in the vain attempt that it would spur me on to take my test. It didn’t. I’ve taken numerous driving lessons, and even passed my theory test… but still, 8 years on, I still haven’t taken a single driving test.

Why?

Because I always meet interesting people on trains and planes. There are other reasons, like the running costs and how fat I would get if I drove everywhere. No doubt, the benefits probably outweigh the inherent problems of having to get trains, planes and taxis everywhere.

However, if I drove a car, I would never have met Donald Rumsfeld’s chief political analyst. Neither would I have been invited to join the American secret service.

It was a blisteringly hot day in July. I’d just said goodbye to my beautiful, blonde hostess in Los Angeles and climbed into a train that would take me through some beautiful vineyards to Fresno — the armpit of America — and then onto Yosemite. Just a few seconds before the train departed, a small, wiry-haired man stumbled up the stairs into the carriage and sat down opposite me. He smiled at me apologetically as I hastily took me feet off his chair — my comfortable trip to Fresno had been scuppered by a very innocuous-looking, slightly-rotund man!

After he’d caught his breath, I introduced myself.

‘Hi.’ He nods back at me. ‘How’d you do?’ (I actually say that — sue me!)

We banter a little. I explain what I’m doing so far from home, alone; he explains why he’s on a train to Fresno, alone. He seems awfully friendly, but then most middle-aged, geeky bachelors tend to make the most of human contact when they can get it — something I have to get used to, I guess…

‘So, what do you do?’ I’d noticed he had a very expensive-looking suitcase, but that was the only hint of affluence about him.

‘I work for the government.’ He grins. My mouth forms a little ‘o’ and every muscle tenses. An awfully large number of misdemeanors from my younger years quickly flash before me. Was this really going to be the end of my short but sweet tale? He must’ve noticed my alarm because he quickly elaborated: ‘I’m a political analyst.’

I relaxed and sunk back into my oversized, supportive Amtrak chair (they’re made to be comfortable for large Americans, I guess). ‘I’m just back from the Middle East, actually.’

And so we talked, and talked and talked some more. I quickly learnt that this guy had a very serious job: to visit countries that America would soon declare war on, or were thinking about declaring war on in the future. It was his job to visit Iraq and find out if the populace would welcome an American invasion and occupation. He was there, in the Balkans, before NATO bombed Yugoslavia, calculating if the risk was worth the reward.

Who did he report to? How was he actually connected to the government? He finally opened up, a little way past Bakersfield, with the grape vines of Central Valley sliding by in a blur. ‘Donald Rumsfeld. He’s my boss.’ He grinned again, and not for the first time he looked apologetic. Humble, resigned to whatever fate he’d cast upon Iraq, and the other nations he’d visited. He flew around the world, analysed the political climate and then reported back to Donald Rumsfeld; if his findings said ‘go’, they went.

If he had reported back with different findings, Rumsfeld might never have given the command to proceed with such shock and awe. Perhaps that’s why the analyst looked so bashful and minced his words. Sitting opposite was his most loyal and unswerving ally: a man from Britain, an allegiance that had been quite severely tested.

As the conversation twisted and turned — my eager inquisition digging deeper and deeper –  I could tell he wanted to talk about different things. He was single, without kids, travelling to see his mother. He wanted to talk about his life, and how troubling it was to be responsible for so many millions of Americans, and the citizens of other countries that might soon feel the brunt of the world’s only super power.

I listened for the rest of the journey. Eventually, we came to a standstill in Fresno. He stood up and smiled properly for the first time since we’d met 3 hours ago. I don’t know if it was my awesome listening skills, or the fact that he was going to see his mother — I like to think I was at least partially to blame.

As I was gathering my bags, he begun to make his way down the stairs. At the foot of the stairs he suddenly stopped and turned around. He said my name and paused; until he had my attention, or steeling himself, who knows.

‘You know, Donald was always against the war in Iraq.’

Welcome to my first American special: Why Americans are awesome. I appreciate that I haven’t actually written a whole lot about America, so you might question my authority — and rightly so! I’ve visited a few times — about two months in total on five individual trips. I don’t claim to know everything about the States but as you probably know by now, that won’t stop this entry from being highly opinionated. Bear in mind then, as you read this, that ‘awesome’ doesn’t necessarily mean really neat, though it often does. Awesome means ‘awe inspiring’ — mouth-agape and stupefied — something you tell your kids about! Awww-sum, dude!!!

That’s why I chose that word in particular. America is awesome, no matter which facet you gaze upon. Either in military might or economic growth, America rules supreme. From the sheer vastness of their natural splendours — Yosemite, Yellowstone, The Grand Canyon — to the rich oil and gold and mineral reserves, America really is an adventurous place.

You have to imagine what it would’ve been like for an Irishman, pushing west across undiscovered America. How it must’ve felt to experience those sense-shattering sights. Mountains, glacial valleys, geysers — it would’ve been overwhelming! As I explored America, I liked to think I felt an inkling of the awe that those tiny colonies of trailblazing frontiersmen felt centuries ago as they pushed west across the New World.

It is perhaps no wonder that Americans retain an adventurous glint in their eye and bounce in their step — an enthusiasm and appetite for endeavour that precious few nations have. I guess, unlike many other countries, they still have something to be enthusiastic about. They’re still looking through rose-tinted spectacles left by their one-sixteenth Irish-blood great grandfather.

They’re big and brash

No matter which way you look at it: over wide, beautiful vistas or around the orbital curvature of an obese chest, Americans are by far the biggest race in the world. It’s no surprise, considering the seemingly never-ending expanse of their virgin habitat, that they’ve evolved into the largest of the Homo neanderthalensis. Animals tend to grow to occupy a given space — in high-density areas, animals tend to be smaller. America is huge and its population equally expansive.

The equation isn’t quite so simple though. The reason Americans are so large is because they are so self-sufficient. They have so many natural resources and such huge swathes of land suitable for agriculture that they have an abundance of cheap, locally-grown food. Couple in the fact that tropical conditions are available just short boat ride away, across the Gulf of Mexico, and it’s really no surprise that Americans are big (see Appendix A).

The brashness comes from being big and knowing you’re a force to be reckoned with, both on a global scale thanks to a huge military, and in the dusty, windswept saloons with your natural body armour. The confidence that Americans ooze is one of the (desirable?) traits that separates Americans from the rest of the world. Perhaps it’s because they’ve never really tasted defeat like most other Western nations, or just because they’re still so incredibly young in the grand scale of history.

The rest of the world knows about its weaknesses only too well. Americans are sure that they have some weakness, some flaw, somewhere… they just don’t stop to think about it. Maybe they’ll stop to think about it after yet another conquest — following yet another war that they can’t possibly lose. Because losing has never been an option.

That’s why Americans are confident.

They don’t have a class system… kind of

While the rest of the Western world is still battling with an archaic, feudal hand-me-down class system, and the undeveloped world still qualifies its leaders by the size of their ears or gonads, America is essentially classless. In England you can spot a millionaire from 100 meters. In America… good luck! A millionaire might wear a suit, or he might just wear jeans and a t-shirt, depending on how he feels. Or what’s fresh out of the washing machine.

This is because America is primarily made of new money. There are certainly a few British-occupation throwbacks — old, rich slavers  — but most rich people in America today made their own money. They struggled against adversity to become stupendously rich. Capitalism might be frowned upon by many other developed nations but people forget that America has only had a couple of hundred years to catch up with the rest of the world! Without capitalism, America would probably still be a farming country (and some of it is!)

It’s only classless by definition though. Americans still strive to be better than their neighbours, it’s just more of a low-key, Cold War affair. Bigger cars. Greener lawns. Smaller dogs. Prom, rodeo and Mardi Gras queens. Beauty pageants. Bigger cows; riding rowdier bovines and horses. America is competitive. Without a defined class system, with nothing more than the equivalent of a league of comparitive penis lengths, Americans go out of their way to be bigger, better, faster and wholly more awesome than everyone else.

That continuing, never-let-it-lie attitude of trying to one-up its compatriots and the rest of the world has resulted in their global supremacy.

You can buy anything

Thanks to capitalism everything in America has a price. Really, anything; it’s shocking and at the same time strangely impressive. In most of the Western world, manners, deference, politeness and etiquette grease the cogs of society. In America it’s money. A big, toothy smile helps too — but mostly it’s cold, hard cash.

My trips to America have been liberating. I’ve known that at any time, as long as I have some money in my pocket, I’m safe; I’m enabled. I can (and did) literally anything I could think of. You’ll have to wait for my travel stories from America before you hear about those!

Back in England and Europe I’m fettered, restricted by social norms and expectations: who I’m friends with matters, and possibly who my enemies are too. I don’t think it’s any surprise that people searching for a new beginning travelled to the New World where there were no limits to what you could do or accomplish — no more arbitrary limitations  imposed by your family’s history or religious affiliations — just an as-far-as-the-eye-can-see, unspoilt horizon and only one way to measure and compare success: money.

Appendix A: American Food

I’ll continue this tomorrow — there’s simply too much awesomeness in America for one blog entry — but for now, I want to leave you with some truly amazing culinary (I use that word loosely) creations, ripped off from thisiswhyyourefat.com.

The thing I love most about this one is the piece of lettuce. God bless America.

Two Danish pastries. And bacon. And is that the yolk of a sunny-side-up fried egg I see in the mix too?

You probably scrolled off this one quickly because it almost looks internal. Entitled ‘The Cornhole’, this… creation… this… monstrosity means I’ll never be able to look sweetcorn in the eye again. Or anyone else for that matter.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: God bless America.
That’s a chocolate cake with crispy bacon sprinkles. You can’t see, but right now I have tears running down my cheeks.
Salty-wet trails of pride. The tears of someone that has glimpsed true beauty in the form of cake.
America, you truly are one of a kind. Thank God.

America’s so awesome that I ran out of space yesterday! I’m going to continue where I left off, but not without first wowing you with a recent discovery of mine: The Heart Attack Grill. Words don’t really do it justice, so just watch this little video segment from a very serious-sounding TV news reporter.

With that out of the way — Christ, those nurses were hot, eh?  Did you see that ‘A wheelchair ride to your car’ is on the menu? My kind of establishment! — it’s now time to conclude why Americans are AWESOME.

Guns don’t kill people

There’s something about America and the celebration of firearms. It’s probably tied into what I said yesterday about Americans being big and brash — what better way to win an argument or ensure the cessation of all disagreement than with an automatic shotgun? If that doesn’t work, how about equipping it with a clip of armour-penetrating grenade rounds that can be fired off in under two seconds?

Apparently, it’s your God-given right to bear arms in the United States. Well, not God-given, but granted by the second amendment — which was probably divined under the omnipresent supervision of God. Most things back then were, don’t worry — anyway, constitutionally, Americans are allowed to own a firearm. 200 years ago, y’see, there was still some risk of a tyrant leader forcing their way to the top. It was actually sensible that localised militias were maintained in case of emergency — in the event that they would have to help maintain the republic (by shootin’ the dictator).

Fear of oppressive/tyrannical leadership is a common trait amongst all democratic republics and begun way back in Roman times. Today though, there isn’t really a reason to own a lethal weapon, other than because your neighbours do. And other bad drivers. Do Americans really think that owning a gun makes them safer? I can’t get my head around that one so I’m just going to label that particular logic as ‘awesome’ — perhaps there is a method in the madness. Perhaps you really can whip your gun outta your glove box and shoot ‘im dead faster than he can squeeze the trigger.

Maybe, if the mugger knew you weren’t packing heat, he’d carry a baseball bat instead of a gun? Broken ribs instead of dead on the cold floor.

I still remember the day I first saw an automatic submachine gun, at the airport, cradled gently, reverentially, in the arm of a police officer. I was meant to feel safe; I had never been so afraid.

McDonalds and Starbucks — globalisation — American havens the world over

Most non-Americans reading this will probably have bumped into an American tourist at some time or another. More than likely this would be in a Starbucks or McDonalds — the American’s there to pur-chase a slice of cake that’s just like my momma’s home cookin or a cup of hot, national-pride piss. I’ve found the best way to enjoy Starbucks coffee is to drink it fast while it’s still hot; burn all of them there pesky taste buds off! You then have a tongue that’s ready to sample the finest of American mud. Like KFC: they tell us it’s chicken, as we’re biting down into that slippery, spicy succulent morsel we try our damnedest to believe it is chicken — but is it really chicken? Starbucks tell us they serve great coffee. They wouldn’t lie to us like KFC, right?

(As an aside, the gangster slang ‘homeslice’ originates from from the phrase ‘a slice of home’, i.e. someone that reminds you of what it’s like to be back home. How cute is that? Starbucks, your American homeslice, the only solid bastion in a sea of crazy foreigners; seriously, Europeans, go check out a Starbucks in a busy city like Paris or Rome and just marvel at the number of Amerkins you find.)

The unstoppable sprawl of globalisation is an almost-uniquely American thing. The fast food chains, music, film — television. I’ve seen a news clip of a religious fanatic in Iraq decrying Americans as imperialist pigs with Friends and Joey’s inane face plastered on the TV behind him — you couldn’t make that kind of sweet irony up. A lot of people actually learn English from syndicated TV and Hollywood films and pop music — it always amuses me when I meet a local resident in Turkey or Croatia or Serbia that has an American accent. I wonder if they know just how funny it is?

Realising fairly quickly that they couldn’t actually take over the whole world (damn those commie Ruski pigs) they had to settle for the next best thing — CAPITALISM! Once you’ve reached national saturation there’s only one option left: go multinational! There’s a place in Portland, Washington there are actually two Starbuckses opposite each other. Either side of the street. That’s saturation and that’s why I have more Starbucks stores in London than in New York — I’m not complaining though — their coffee might be shit, but their ice-blended coffees with whipped cream on top… mmm.

(I did a little research, and it turns out ‘two Starbuckses on the same street’ is actually a smart move intentionally deployed by Starbucks. Each cafe would be decorated differently and thus serve a different kind of clientelle! So that’s actually quite smart, Mr Starbucks…)

I don’t think globalisation is intentional though, it’s just a side-effect. In the olden days, only the richest of merchants would have offices in more than one city. Today, our technology-rich world is an environment tailor-made for America’s big corporations. They’ve capitalised on their vast reserves cash to quickly spread their long, gribbly, money-grabbing tendrils all over the world. That’s not to say the rest of the world has suffered — far from it. We’ve reaped a lot of benefits of such quick world-devouring expansion (though there are plenty of arguments against the culture-destroying aspects of globalisation). We have globalisation to thank for cheap fast food (hooray!), a lot of employment and a huge amount of consumable entertainment. Kudos has to be given to Americans for finding some way to conquer the modern world without nukes.

The first black president!!

Apparently, this is fairly big news. Also, curiously, the USA is the first country to have a dildo shaped like their head of state (pun intended, animated and totally NSFW). I can’t wait for the first British-born Indian-parented Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Thinking about it, I don’t think there’s ever been a black president in any of the European countries… Maybe I should another entry  on why Europeans suck!

A turkey, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a duck. Wrapped in bacon. Perhaps America’s greatest invention: The Turbaconucken, courtesy of thisiswhyyourefat.com.

I don’t intend to make a habit of commenting on current affairs but it just so happens that the current government election fracas in Iran fits into my train of thought on ignorance and irrationality.

The complete lack of human rights in Iran is not a new thing. People, usually those from the fortunate West, forget that the fabled Universal Declaration of Human Rights is not a treaty; it’s not something that countries sign at a summit and abide by. It’s a declaration, like the USA’s declaration of independence. It is a statement of the rights that should be granted to every human on this planet. These rights are not privileges to be earnt or bartered from an oppressive institution, league or government; they are to be given unconditionally upon birth.

And for many Westerners, like you and I, they are. In Iran, as with most of the developing world, these rights are merely a mythical concept afforded to only a handful of lucky, aristocratic or autocratic individuals. We don’t know how lucky we are, nor do we appreciate just how recent the concept of human rights actually are. Speaking out of turn 100 years ago would result in being caned as a child, or beaten into a bloody pulp as an adult. Falling pregnant out of wedlock would throw you into social exile. Believing or acting upon religious beliefs outside the norm would get you stoned, drowned or burnt to death.

For the longest time we didn’t even own our bodies: nominally under our control, but only during peacetime, or when not under duress and whipped into chain gangs. Historically, we were under the singular jurisdiction of the local Lord, or owned by whoever employed us. This only changed with the form of trade unions and the downfall of antiquated European feudal systems, but for centuries this was sadly the case across what we now consider ‘the Western world’.

Just one thing has remained entirely ours: our mind and our thoughts. As long as we didn’t vocalise those thoughts, our minds have long been the last remaining stronghold of freedom. Of course, religious dogma and torture are usually employed to wean out any remaining free-thinkers — usually those that made the mistake of opening their mouths. But some people kept on dreaming, kept on fighting. Enough of us fought back against the Dark Age’s oppression so that we might one day experience our Renaissance and Enlightenment. Without either golden age we wouldn’t be living in this world today.  Those brave souls that kept thinking outside the box, even after being brutally tortured or their families were killed — when all seemed truly lost, they kept on sticking it to the man, hoping for change. To those men and women we have a debt of immeasurable gratitude.

I have a theory (and it deserves its own blog entry): the Middle East is simply behind the times — from a Western point of view. To us Europeans and Americans the atrocities and injustices occurring in Iran are backward. We decry and condemn the unfairness of it all. We break down in tears at the thought of free people being brutally beaten and unfairly subdued by an oppressive force. And to us, it is inhumane and immoral: to deny their rights of thought and expression, refusing  their right take part in the government and arbitrarily arresting those that try — these are breaches of important, fundamental human rights that we Westerners take for granted.

But to them it is the norm. This is the bit we don’t agree with, but we must get our heads around: the Middle East is, to us, akin to antiquity — that’s how we used to do things, centuries ago. We used to have slaves, and deny the vote to certain classes and castes. Not so long ago, making a public stand would get you shot. Once upon a time we had as few rights as our persecuted brothers and sisters in Iran. That’s why it hurts so much. That’s why it feels so incredibly unfair, so unjust. We turn on our TVs to see centuries of hard work spent on gaining our human rights pissed on by the government of Iran.

I hope those in the Middle East keep on fighting. Those that oppress you are afraid of losing control, and believe it or not, that’s progress. That’s the beginning of a revolution and history has shown that freedom will be yours. Eventually.

By now, you’ve probably realised that ‘big’ thoughts find their way into my head. Once there they spin and ricochet, collide and merge — or smash and sunder. Eventually though, in one form or another, they find their way back into the real world. Sometimes to my friends in emails, or in a long-winded monologues to my mother in the kitchen — and more often than not, they also find their way to my blog.

But occasionally… I just can’t get my head around some things. They’re too gnarled, too complex. Often they’re related to fields that I have little experience in. And so what better way to get more experience than to ask the world what it thinks? The ‘world’ is you, by the way!

With that said here’s one that I’ve been thinkin’ about recently:

Would equal, same-for-all income tax be a good thing? If every adult paid the same amount of tax — not a percentage, a flat figure — would that be a good thing? Would it encourage slackers to work harder, to meet the tax requirement? Would it encourage millionaires to work less, or would they work more?

Or is this just akin to communism? In fact, is everyone being treated the same a bad thing? Does everyone deserve to be treated equally?

Bits I haven’t really worked out: would it be a large amount, or small amount? $5,000 — or $20,000 a year? Would a small tax mean it’s a capitalist system? To meet the required amount, would low-wage workers have to be paid more? Is there only a ‘finite’ amount of money in a country which prevents cleaners from being paid more? Or surely, if it encourages everyone to work harder, wouldn’t a country make more trade goods, and thus money?

There, that’s a fairly meaty one. One that I need to know the answer to, before I rule the world.

There’s something about black musicians; especially those from the 70s. It’s as if their songs and music are sermons; instructional, spiritual guidance for the traversal and enjoyment of life. With Motown stripping away centuries of oppression, these pent-up feelings suddenly found an outlet. Be it Stevie Wonder, Maurice White or Marvin Gaye, when we listen to their seminal albums, their finest opuses, it’s as if we are looking straight into their soul. And of course that’s the whole point: they have a story to tell, and they want us to hear it. Be it war, politics, God or, in the case of Let’s Get It On: pure, unbridled, shameless love.

The album begins with a beat, not a bang. The title track is a slow, seedy-pleady, seductive introduction designed to reel you into Marvin’s world, his vision (I did say it was sermon-like!) It’s as if we’ve been on the outside for all these years — outside in the chaste, teeth-chatteringly cold, sexless world — and now, finally, with a deep, lustful sigh of relief we’re being invited to the party. If you thought the first track was seductive, the second, Please Stay, is pure, lip-dribble/wibble pillow talk. Please Stay feels like a slowed-down, muddied Motown classic; gone are the trite, treble sounds of Motown drums and vocals. In their stead, a sexy, repetitive, bassy rhythm illustrates Gaye’s soulful sexuality.

Let’s Get It On tells a story, from lust to love making; young, wide-eyed and sappy (If I Should Die Tonight) through to the unrequited (Distant Lover). The album is about love and every blissful emotion that true love entails. There are hints of hedonism, both in the title track and the Keep Gettin’ It On intermission — but unlike other sex music that followed, Let’s Get It On somehow remains pure, religious, spiritual.

If there’s one problem with this album it’s that it doesn’t let you climax. The dewy sweat, the shudders, the belaboured breathing — it’s all there, spread thickly, generously, beautifully layered strings and saxophones teasing at your ears throughout; but it’s just that: teasing. Gaye holds you in a dreamy euphoric state, unable to finish, to turn off. The end of the album is a climax of sorts, but not a happy one. It feels as if Marvin Gaye had both religious and sexual epiphanies in the creation of this album, the last two tracks finally bringing him — and us — back down to earth. You Sure Love To Ball, the most daring song on the album and whose whispered whimpers and moans inspired both Michael Jackson and Prince, is ultimately a sad song about desperation going unanswered, unrequited. Just To Keep You Satisfied, the most poignant track and fitting, though not explosive, climax feels like a eulogy.  It feels as if the entire album is dedicated to the love and loss of a very special woman. Whether he is singing this album to her, or as a warning to all prospective lovers out there, we’ll never know.

Let’s Get It On is the pinnacle of Marvin Gaye’s vast body of work. Many would cite the more important significance of What’s Going On? — but they would be wrong, misguided. What we have, with Let’s Get It On, is a monumental and risque release that heralds a new musical epoch and champions a genre of music: the steamily sensual quiet storm of slow-jam. Smashing the watershed of the popular music and Motown juggernauts, Gaye brings us music to make love to. Politics might be the global media’s raison d’être — and certainly why What’s Going On? received more critical attention — but when it comes to our heart, our passion and satisfaction; when it comes to the things that really matter… Let’s Get It On pulls all the right strings and leaves us very much yearning, throbbing, lusting for more.

* * *

Now you need to listen to it. Fortunately it’s very cheap (about $7!)

Buy via Amazon USA:

Buy via Amazon UK:

Discussing ethics is a little fruitless, at least if you like reaching conclusions. Generally they are rules that govern a particular area or school of thought: medical ethics, political ethics, social ethics — in any given setting, there are ways in which you ’should’ act or behave or even think.

Fortunately, due to us pesky humans being at the top of the food chain, it’s been fairly easy to decide what is and isn’t ethical: that which helps mankind is good; that which harms mankind is bad.

But… how would you about creating a system of ethics for that which isn’t human?

If you can save a human or a cat from falling into a chasm, you save your fellow man.

What if the cat has to decide whether he saves you or another cat?

* * *

The ‘classic’ Robot Ethics example is this:

If a robot murders, who is accountable?

Robots can not yet program themselves; so must the designer be sent to jail?

Robots can not yet build themselves; so must the engineer be sent to jail?

Or… can we actually blame the robot? What good is justice, jail or the death penalty if the robot does not feel? If a robot is a senseless, emotionless killing machine, will justice have been served by just unplugging the robot?

* * *

Now the really sticky bit: what if we (somehow) create robots in good conscience, robots that never murder, never steal — robots that always act ‘ethically’. What if, as they would surely follow in the footsteps of their human creators, they learn to program themselves? What if robots can build themselves?

This is all a very old train of thought but it ties in with the question I asked yesterday: ‘What makes us human?‘ — at what stage do these robots become sentient, self-aware? Better yet: if you unplug a sentient robot, do they cease being self-aware? If there’s a soul, what happens?

In the original falling-into-a-chasm example, you don’t hesitate to choose the human as more important than a cat. What if a robot has to choose between saving one of us, or another robot? What’s the ethical choice from the robot’s point of view?

<Mind explodes>

* * *

Back to humans and humanity. What happens when we finally play around with cybernetic brain implants? Does this become a religious or spiritual issue? If having a soul is what separates us from the rest of the food chain, surely we must somehow look after this tenuous physical/spiritual link; would modifying our brain with artificial technology alter or sever that link; would it make us soulless?

At what stage do we, by definition, become robots?

Looking into Pandora’s box I can see another nastier, gloopier issue: what if we’re already soulless? What if there’s really nothing to differentiate us from our finely-engineered robotic brethren? Would that just make us our android overlord’s herd of cattle?

(I know, this is almost as dramatic as the announcement that Barack Obama has just won the Nobel peace prize for being a black American president with a dream…)

I wonder if the trophy looked something like this:

…

Anyway…

This week’s golden oldie IS…

Thoughts from a happy childhood

Reading back always makes me cringe a little. Actually… it makes me cringe a lot. My grasp of the written word has altered so much within such a short period. I want to go back and edit it! But I shan’t. That entry links on to a better one (in my opinion), entitled ‘Further thoughts from a happy childhood‘ — there are dorky photos of me aged one to three dotted throughout…

See you on Monday. I have absolutely no idea how to top the chocolate sauce for 52 Weeks.

I can’t recall where I originally had this argument. It’s an interesting one with no real solution or conclusion, but it’s interesting. It’s the kind of thing that you can posit or postulate, but because it involves rewriting history, no one really knows what the ‘best’ answer is.

I am of course talking about socialism versus capitalism. I don’t describe myself as either a socialist or capitalist, or subscribe to one political party. My thoughts and beliefs tend to span the entire gamut — and if you read this blog regularly, you’ll probably know how I feel about most important issues.

I’m not going to tackle politics itself — I don’t think I’m educated enough to do so — but I want to cover one topic in particular. It’s an argument that’s cropped up a few times over the last few years, as technology has begun its (scarily) rapid consummation of the world and its day to day activities.

So, exposition first: I am capitalist/right-wing when it comes to matters of technology. The arguments I have are usually with socialist, left-wing types.

It goes something like this: ‘It’s sick that these large tech companies are so rich! And there are so many poor people in Africa without technology! Those CEOs on billion-dollar salaries make me SICK! …’ — you get the idea. Basically, spread the love. You see, technology is so damn all-encompassing. It affects healthcare, education, amenities, entertainment — the benefit of advanced technology is SO VAST that most of us can’t begin to imagine its impact on the world.

But would these socialists be quite so socialist if we weren’t living in some kind of utopian world? Are there socialists in sub-Saharan Africa? Do tribes share their deer with the clan next door? How about if they invent a new kind of spear — do you share that technology? Or do you look after your own first?

My argument goes something like this: capitalism drives invention. Capitalism is all about SELFISH NEED. But it is selfishness that inspires ingeniousness. If your kids are being bullied by some thugs with knives, do you report it to the State and trust it will get sorted out? Or do you make your kids body armour and teach them how to fight?

That’s perhaps a bad analogy, but you get the idea? Are you as likely to fight for someone on the other side of the world as you are for your friends and family?

How many inventions have been made with the Developing World in mind?

So the way this usually goes, in politics, is that a conservative party rules for a while, technology flourishes — and then ‘the people’ feel like change has to be made and a socialist government comes to power. I’m not suggesting it’s a bad thing that there’s a change of power. God knows it’s good to shake things up occasionally, lest things become stagnant — and you never want a country to become stagnant. (The robot workers vs. labour unions is a good example?)

I just hope there are no iPhone or BlackBerry owners that are also socialists. It’s incredibly hypocritical.

The counter-argument is obviously this: why are we so inherently selfish? Can we change that, or do we have as much chance of that happening as the deconstruction of racism?

But the sad truth, whether we like it or not, is that we are selfish. We’re never going to push the development of technology solely for other people.

The Developing World should be grateful for our inventive endeavours. And we should be proud of them, not ashamed.

On a surprisingly regular basis I get asked the question: ‘What would your empire be like, Seb?’

It always makes me stop and think. Who told you I’m planning to be an emperor…?

I don’t think I’ve told many people about my aspirations of world domination, but perhaps it’s the kind of thing that manifests and makes itself known in other ways. Maybe it’s the sparkly glint in my eye, or the grandiose sweep of my arms when discussing important issues. Who knows though, really. Humans have a way of picking up on things, right? And it would be stupid of me to deny something that is so plainly true. People will continue to ask me what my empire will be like — so it would be good to have some answers that I can give those that inquire.

And I have some answers. Not a complete manifesto of course — I guess I have another 15 years or so before the world will take an entire manifesto seriously. Damn my lack of senatorial grey hair and wrinkle-implied wisdom. But I have some ground rules, some ideas that would make it a grand and just and mighty empire.

Let’s call this My Manifesto, just for fun. In case any historians are reading: this is liable to change at any time — I haven’t finished travelling the world yet. So consider this manifesto in flux.

Starting at the beginning:

Education

Proper education for all. Plain and simple. ‘Proper’ is defined as ‘an education that prepares you for later on’. If the world wants to be a democracy, education will teach you political science and democracy. If the world wants to be a dictatorship, education should teach you how to be a good subject of the dictator. Remarkably little is actually learnt at school — and most of the ‘important’ things aren’t even touched upon. Probably because politicians/parents/?? are afraid of kids actually knowing what’s going on. Kids used to know so much about the world when they lived their education. Depending on what is important, that should be taught. It will vary from country to country, but it’s about time we actually teach useful knowledge.

This section has been expanded in its own entry

Politics

I’m split between dictatorship and democracy. Both have their merits. Democracy/bureaucracy doesn’t tend to get things done quickly. Perhaps a ‘temporary dictatorship’ system like the Romans? This requires the world to actually trust their leader(s) again though — something we haven’t had in a long time now. To successfully push through the changes in this manifesto you would need the support of an entire parliament/senate. Dictatorship would be easier… but that’s the trap, eh?

But I think if you have an educated populace, politics don’t matter quite so much. Politics is all about reaching a compromise between (wildly) varied points of view. Tyranny is easier because only one point of view matters. It works until that point of view is ‘wrong’ — that’s why you have democracy/bureaucracy, to ‘even out’ the wrongs, to make sure things don’t go too wrong. But you ‘even out’ the peaks as well as the troughs. The good bits get diluted. Why do our opinions and the opinions of lawmakers on important matters vary so much? Is it simply due to differing levels of education, knowledge and wisdom?

Research

Historically, most research funding is spent on defence — obviously, if I had a world-spanning empire, conventional military force wouldn’t be required. Planetary defences would be though. But this is a two-pronged thing: research into space travel also aids planetary defence. Many inventions and leaps in technology between 1900 and today have been off-shoots of military spending. But it’s time to move on now. We’re so ‘Earth-centric’ that we’re ignoring a frickin’ huge frontier that’s just begging to be explored. You would be shocked (or appalled) at the tiny budget allocated to space travel/research. We’re talking fractions of a percent of the annual budget. I think we need to care less about what we have now and more about what we could have. We need to give the explorers something to explore. They’re getting antsy, I assure you.

There’s more to it than simply ‘explore space’, but that’s a large part of it. Many corollary industries would surge forward too. Right now our inventions and technologies are very, very ‘Earth-centric’. Alter the playground, the locale, and the game changes. Just compare the kind of inventions we saw in the 1900s to the ones in the 200s. Compare motor vehicles to the Internet — and the sub-industries that have formed beneath each.

Welfare/Taxation

I quite like the concept of ‘flat tax‘, but I appreciate that my grasp of economic science isn’t perfect. Social support is a tricky one: how far do you extend the helping hand and deep pockets of state welfare? I think if we explored, our stockpile of available resources would expand at an alarming rate. There are other planets with resources like those of Earth. There are other places with gold nuggets literally dusting the landscape, just as they did when explorers first set foot on the New World of America. Resources dry up but the universe is almost infinitely large. Again, why are we so ‘Earth-centric’? I wonder if Big Oil (or national government even) realises just how much money they could make if they found a planet with oil or [insert some other fuel that hasn't been invented yet].

Taxing the rich is just one way of providing welfare. Would taxes need to be so high if our population density was lower and we had more natural resources? There are (I assume) always going to be people that need support from the state. There are other solutions than taxes.

Arts

You can’t begin to regulate the arts — they’re not something that should ever be under the jurisdiction of a government. Thankfully the days of artists being ‘commissioned’ to make self-adulatory statues or paintings of dictators are gone. Arts and artists simply need to be nurtured and they will flourish. I guess this ties into the ‘education’ section above because everyone’s an artist. You are artistic whether you like it or not — it’s just a matter of how easily or readily that art comes out! I have a feeling that making sure schools have adequate resources for the arts is another one of those ‘cheap, no-brainer’ things. I don’t think we need to worry too much about arts on a global scale — TV, film — I think we’re just all suffering a little from ‘cabin fever’ at the moment. All cooped up here on this fair planet with instantaneous communication and the equally instant/urgent need to satisfy our needs.

I know we’ve been static for a very tiny period relative to the entire history of humanity. But things are now moving quickly. The cogs are whirring but we’re standing still. We need to push forward now, towards the fringe, lest our own technology crushes us.

[Updated 30th November 2009]