Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Book Review: Blindsight

Monday, May 13, 2013 § 3

Blindsight is a hard sci-fi novel by Peter Watts [Amazon | Full free version on author’s website].  It takes place in a technologically advanced future, where humans have reached technological heights to the point that they are generating and discovering more data than their brains can handle.  The protagonist, Siri Keeton, is a cybernetically augmented human who specializes in interpreting incredibly high-order data and patterns, thereby acting as a middleman between humankind’s incomprehensible technology and humankind itself.

The book, published in 2006, is a very smart thought-experiment novel that incorporated the cutting edge of neurobiology, cognitive science, information theory, and artificial intelligence theories of its time.  It is also a book that also addresses many of our current anxieties: witness the explosion in the number of articles, blogs, and books that promise to “hack” our “brains” to help us perform optimally.  Blindsight, however, suggests a more frightening answer to our human anxieties than perhaps we would like.

While Blindsight is first and foremost an idea-driven novel, the author has wrapped the idea into a classic first-contact plot.  The story opens as follows: one day in 2082, Earth is visited by a group of projectiles that flash over the globe and then vanish, leaving little clue as to their origins or purpose. Siri and four other augmented humans are placed in a five-man team on a spaceship called Theseus, and sent out to investigate. The crew is a complex and fascinating mix of specialists, and are also manifestations of the author (a professional marine biologist).  Their specialities and augmentations allow Watts to explore a number of neurology, biology, and cognitive science theories such as manufactured multiple personalities, sensory augmentation, and even resurrected vampires. The overall plot is not extremely novel, but is a fitting vehicle for the kind of idea-driven writing the author is interested in.

What are the author’s main ideas?  To summarize, he is interested in distinguishing between intelligence and sentience, and exploring the evolutionary fitness, or lack thereof, imparted by those traits.  The first contact with the aliens—who are named Scramblers by the crew—is a harrowing one, and as incredible discoveries about the aliens come to light, we find ourselves asking along with the protagonists the big question of the book: what is consciousness really, truly good for, in this wide universe?  It’s a risky question to pose to an audience that is only able to process the story through consciousness.  The titular real-life condition of blindsight—in which a person with blindness resulting from brain damage to their visual processing center can nevertheless respond to visual stimuli, such as catching an object that they are unable to see—is used to help us imagine being an entity with intelligence but no sentience.

Uncoupling “intelligent responses” from “sentience” is an interesting move, because it’s a major question that the AI community deals with.  Any number of papers and books are devoted to asking the question of what comprises an intelligent machine.  Much of this work, including the Turing Test and the Chinese Room, are discussed in the book.  Blindsight, for its part, argues that we should use the only measure we have of intelligence, which is whether the entity is capable of learning, pattern recognition, and responding to additional data with improved performance.  This is exactly how the current machine learning field measures their algorithms when creating computer programs that are capable of learning.

Blindsight, however, goes a step further.  Many people believe that the be-all end-all of machine learning must necessarily end in sentience; a “thinking machine” is still viewed as the Holy Grail by many, though not all, AI researchers.  The hypothesis suggested by this book is that sentience may be the wrong goalpost.  Indeed, Blindsight asks its readers to consider that it is entirely possible, and perhaps evolutionarily favorable, for a living organism to become intelligent without developing sentience.  Such organisms would not so much think as calculate, sifting and gathering through patterns and then reacting.  This is how Scramblers live.  They have survived for ages by crunching the pure hard data of natural physics and mathematics, squeezing every bit of data out of their environment in order to improve their survival and fitness.  Compared against that, human data is infinitely messier, often seemingly purposeless, stuffed with things that entertain a sentient mind but could appear useless to a data processor.

What happens when these two “intelligences” meet? I won’t spoil you; I will only say that if this scenario intrigues you, then you must read this book.

The idea of an unthinking but intelligent entity—and even worse, an unthinking but superior entity—is uncomfortable to most.  The story’s strength lies in its unflinching willingness to push human readers into that uncomfortable place: “what if humans are an evolutionary dead end?” Cleverly, Watts minimizes the chances that a reader will angst over this outcome: the story is told with minimal emotions.  Siri, the narrator, has had a brain surgery during his childhood that removed much of his capacity for empathy or emotions—and that is the point of view through which he narrates the story, and thus, the point of view in which we readers perceive the story.  This surgery has made Siri, who operates his job and navigates through life on pure data, in many ways cognitively closer to the unconscious aliens than to conscious humans.

If you are able to make this leap into another way of thinking, you might end up—like me—rooting for these aliens made of pure data, as well as for Siri, who is almost a precursor of them.  Blindsight made me believe in its arguments, and that is the highest praise I can give the book.

Part Two - Thoughts

Generally I do not indulge in the exercise of “if I had been writing this book” for the very good reason that I did not write the book.  However, I took Blindsight to be part novel and part genuine scientific hypothesis, and as a scientist, it is the hypothesis that I wish to respond to.

Spoilers after the jump!

Read more »

London Dreaming

Tuesday, July 10, 2012 § 2

Went to London for the first time last week!  It was really wonderful and I'm already missing it and fruitlessly fantasizing about sending my CV over to UCL.  What, I'm allowed to dream.

1. I pre-gamed for the trip by mainlining as much London urban fantasy as I could*, so I tore through A Madness of Angels and Rivers of London -- which, by the way, Amazon neglected to inform me that a US edition existed, resulting in my ordering a UK copy which resulted in three weeks of shipping, and of course for consistency's sake I had to get the sequel in the UK edition as well.  I picked up a copy of Moon Over Soho in Oxford, along with a really pretty leather bookmark, and I may have ignored some gorgeous scenery in the Cotswolds because I was too busy inhaling the book.  No regrets.  Since I forgot to pick up Whispers Under Ground, so I guess there will be another three-week wait, shaking my fist over here.  (Not only were the books very awesome, they were also helpful for teaching this US resident some vocabulary.  Okay, watching all of BBC Sherlock twice helped, too.)

2. I spent some time idly pondering urban fantasy and its trappings.  As many have noted, Charles de Lint is probably the progenitor of all this, and interestingly, he didn't actually use the big city, which in our times is probably the first setting to come to mind when one speaks of urban fantasy.  Rather he used small towns and colored up their featureless solitude by importing folk tales and deities ... which Neil Gaiman takes on again in American Gods. And then in contrast there is Madness, in which magic is inherent to the city, is born out of the city and its rules, spontaneously generated out of and shaped by urban detritus; the city has now come alive if not aware.  I think it comes from what the writer is relatively more concerned with: the magic or the city?  Madness is all about London; the magic is a lens, a kaleidoscope through which we can turn the city inside out and shatter it into bits and see how it comes back together.  Rivers and American Gods lean towards being more about magic and myth and how they might hold together/tear apart a city or a world.

* Urban fantasy pretty much tells you what the city and the author wish it could be, up to and including the imperfections that make the masterpiece.  As Sabina pointed out, it gives you the dreams of the city, which I find to be much more interesting than anything found in a travel guidebook.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Sunday, December 11, 2011 § 0

On realizing that I really want to watch the movie, I've been trying to finish the book Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.  I quite like it so far, you can really tell the author was one of them (or do I only imagine I think that became we all know Le Carre worked for MI6 ...?).

The plotting is stellar thus far.  With some envy, I note that a good intelligence agent, analyst, etc. is probably as good as many writers are at plotting, since their job is to put together plots, and they deal with much higher stakes than I do.  Also, if you've ever skimmed through any official cables, you find that many people in foreign-based services and such are excellent writers; their reports are often quite delightful and even hilarious to read.  I forget who told me this, but I was once informed that the diplomats et al are generally extremely motivated to write excellent reports, because they know that the cables are basically forever.

I Have The Right To Destroy Myself

Monday, October 31, 2011 § 0

I Have The Right To Destroy Myself, by Young-ha Kim

A note: Young-ha Kim has written a whole lot of other things, many of which are nothing like this book, so this review does not generalize to the rest of Kim's works.

I bought this along with The Other Side Of Dark Remembrance.  I didn't like this book nearly as much, although I attribute that to being totally out of the targeted audience, rather than actual lack of merit.  I do recommend this book to people who would enjoy it.  It's seriously stream-of-consciousness, wandering here and there, so be forewarned.  I probably wouldn't have bought the book if I'd actually known what I was in for, so I file this one under Broadening My Reading Horizons.

Also, I'd like to note, that's the catchiest title I've seen in ages.

The premise is revealed very early on so I don't consider this a spoiler.  The arguable protagonist is a nameless man who gets paid to help people commit suicide.  He wines & dines and chats them up and tries to nudge them towards offing themselves and paying him for the consultation.  Kim isn't a psychologist (for all that the characters' motivations are about as opaque as those from a Russian novel, this isn't one), but he's very good at at character, at portraying how a number of different people are all detached from the world, seeking anything that can heighten reality for themselves, and by the way are completely perverse/disturbed/delusional in their own ways.

At one point the narrator tells an outrageous story to a woman and she is implied to believe it.  Then the internal dialogue kicks in:

Sometimes fiction is easier to understand than true events.  Reality is often pathetic.  I learned at a very young age that it was easier to make up stories to make a point.  I enjoy creating stories.  The world is filled with fiction anyway.

Death is the ultimate reality that the narrator's clients find in the book, and the only solid anchor in the entire story.

Robbe-Grillet, two novels

Wednesday, October 12, 2011 § 0

Picked up Robbe-Grillet's Jealousy/In The Labyrinth, I don't know what possessed me to give this a try. Maybe I've been reading too much Eco? But here I am, and sunken cost fallacy be damned I will finish this book. Barthes' intro essay was interesting (and I haven't read Morrissette's or Minor's essays, sorry I went for the name I recognized) although it took 2000 more words than necessary to say that Robbe-Grillet has the amazing skill of writing a novel like one might write problems in a mathematical text, ie, when he describes something you don't really take it in as anything more than factual phenomena. Why is the table 1m wide? It just is and to think otherwise is to miss the point.*

Which is I suppose is legit an achievement, since most writers tune the mood of the world up or down to accompany their story. One might think that at the worst end of the scale sits dystopic fiction writers who make it feel like the universe is out to get you -- but Robbe-Grillet's universe is at the absolute zero: there exists no meaning one way or another, which in a sense is even harsher and colder than the universe's boot in your face.

* for the record: I don't agree with this universe; I agree with William Gibson (and I can't for the life of me remember the interview where he said this) that you can pick up a mass-manufactured disposable hot coffee container and write a whole book on how its materials, dimensions, and other specifications came to be. But that's a ramble for another day.

Perdido Street Station, etc.

Sunday, July 24, 2011 § 0

  • Reading more of Perdido Street Station, reading madly. What's truly amazing is that Mieville isn't actually creating that much new stuff; 99% of these are tropes I've seen before, but he handles them so well. I'm sure this is a total cliche but I do feel like New Crobuzon is an excellent metaphor for his own writing -- crowded with a million styles and genres that all are tied together by some mysterious junction that links all his works. A friend whose taste I trust has already mentioned that Perdido Street Station has a Bad End so I am on tenterhooks, but enjoying the ride so far ...


  • (Also, is it just me or is this book seriously obsessed with body fluids. It's like a 14yo boy trying to see how many times he can get excrement into a book.)


  • Went to Borders last night, trying to take advantage of their liquidation. Of course the rest of the city had the same thought and I didn't find most of what I wanted. But I did pick up a copy of Iain M. Banks' Surface Detail, which I bought actually because I read a somewhat critical review whose criticisms made me really, really interested in the book.  We'll see how this turns out.
  • Reading: Perdido Street Station

    Sunday, July 3, 2011 § 0

    After everyone else in the world already has ... I finally started reading China MiƩville's Perdido Street Station. I am really enjoying the fantastic worldbuilding.

    “Ged,” Isaac asked. “What can you tell me about the garuda?”

    Ged shrugged, and he grinned with pleasure at imparting what he knew.

    “Not very much. Bird-people. Live in the Cymek, and the north of Shotek, and the west of Mordiga, reputedly. Maybe also on some of the other continents. Hollow bones.” Ged’s eyes were fixed, focused on the remembered pages of whatever xenthropological work he was quoting. “Cymek garuda are egalitarian…completely egalitarian, and completely individualistic. Hunters and gatherers, no sexual division of labour. No money, no rank, although they do have sort of uninstitutional ranks. Just means you’re worthy of more respect, that sort of thing. [...]”

    [...] “Well, seeing as you know so arsing little about them, I might as well just stop talking to you,” said Isaac.

    To Isaac’s astonishment, Ged’s face fell.

    “Joke, Ged! Irony! Sarcasm! You know fucking loads about them. At least compared to me. I’ve been browsing Shacrestialchit, and you’ve just exceeded the sum of my knowledge. Do you know anything about…uh…their criminal code?”

    Ged stared at him. His huge eyes narrowed.

    “What you up to, Isaac? They’re so egalitarian…well…Their society’s all based on maximizing choice for the individual, which is why they’re communistic. Grants the most uninhibited choice to everyone. And as far as I remember the only crime they have is depriving another garuda of choice. And then it’s exacerbated or mollified depending on whether they do it with or without respect, which they absolutely love…”

    “How do you steal someone’s choice?”

    “No idea. I suppose if you nick someone’s spear, they don’t have the choice of using it…What about if you lie about where some tasty lichen is, so you deprive others of the choice of going for it…?”

    “Maybe some choice-thefts are analogies of stuff we’d consider crimes and some have absolutely no equivalent,” said Isaac.

    “I’d imagine so.”

    “What’s an abstract individual and a concrete individual?”

    Ged was gazing at Isaac in wonder.

    “My good arse, Isaac…you’ve made friends with some garuda, haven’t you?”

    Isaac raised one eyebrow, and nodded quickly.

    “Damn!” Ged shouted. People at the surrounding tables turned to him with brief surprise. “And a Cymek garuda…! Isaac, you have to make him--him? her?--come and talk to me about the Cymek!”

    “I don’t know, Ged. He’s a bit…taciturn…”

    “Oh please oh please…”

    “All right, all right, I’ll ask him. But don’t get your hopes up. Now tell me what the difference is between a fucking abstract and concrete individual.”

    “Oh, this is fascinating. I suppose you aren’t allowed to tell me what the job is…? No, didn’t think so. Well, put simply, and as far as I understand it, they’re egalitarian because they respect the individual so much, right? And you can’t respect other people’s individuality if you focus on your own individuality in a kind of abstract, isolated way. The point is that you are an individual inasmuch as you exist in a social matrix of others who respect your individuality and your right to make choices. That’s concrete individuality: an individuality that recognizes that it owes its existence to a kind of communal respect on the part of all the other individualities, and that it had better therefore respect them similarly.

    “So an abstract individual is a garuda who forgot, for some time, that he or she is part of a larger unit, and owes respect to all the other choosing individuals.”

    There was a long pause.

    “Are you any wiser, Isaac?” asked Ged gently, and broke off into giggles.

    Isaac wasn’t sure if he was or not.

    “So look, Ged, if I said to you ‘second-degree choice-theft with disrespect,’ would you know what a garuda had done?”

    The Other Side of Dark Remembrance, short review

    Saturday, April 30, 2011 § 0

    The Other Side of Dark Remembrance is a novella by Lee Kyun-Young, about a businessman who wakes up hungover and disoriented, in a place he doesn't recognize. As he tries to piece together what happened the night before, he begins to remember a bit more than he had bargained for.

    There is a more in-depth review here, and you can buy the book on Amazon here.

    I found the book very moving, and the scenes of the boy with [SPOILER] made me tear up. It's said out of desperation, by someone who genuinely and absolutely means it, in one of the most painful ways possible.

    If you're left all alone in this wide world, you cannot go on living because loneliness is so painful. Hold each other's hands. You should not part from each other even if you have to die. Go on living, the two of you, holding each other's hands.

    There were some elements that I didn't like, but I feel that there would be no point in listing them? The story feels more like a memoir or personal history than packaged fiction, and after a certain threshold of how much realism one intends to convey to the audience (which I apparently think this work has crossed even if it's not auto/biographical), I think I can't and shouldn't write around what the people I knew really were like. Even if it's not how I would have wanted them to be, and they're not who I wish I would have been. I might as well read someone's diary and critique the characterizations. And in the end I think it took an amazingly deft touch to make the work what it is.

    scattered thoughts on william gibson

    Wednesday, April 20, 2011 § 0

    I read William Gibson's Idoru once in high school, and I couldn't get into it at all. I picked it up again a few months ago and this time I was totally immersed. I feel a little behind the times, considering everyone I know read his work way earlier than I did, and I'm just starting to mainline his books now. I have to wonder if it's just because I didn't understand the internet in high school, and now I ... understand it slightly more. But also, when I was age sixteen I consumed very little pop media/culture, and that is also a reason that the book didn't do anything for me -- at the time. Gibson builds his worlds on references. The reader has to have already done the homework. I hadn't at the time. I've done a bit more now, but for example, the Bigend Trilogy is pretty opaque to me, but my bandom friends are all over it.

    I enjoyed Idoru but I think the strongest feeling the book instilled in me was a desire to get my hands on the computer models that Gibson describes, which just goes to show Gibson really understand products after all XD. Sandbenders are steampunked up laptops and okay I don't want those, but I love the name *g* I do want one of the "Korean models" that he describes, the ones that look like sacks of jelly with candy-colored cubes floating inside. 1) that DOES sound exactly like what half of east asia would crank out if they could just get silicon to behave that way, 2) I really really want one.

    I have surprisingly little to say about Neuromancer. It feels way more mainstream ahead of time -- like it is less irreproducible than many of his other works, not because they aren't visionary/worth imitating/etc, but because not as many authors THINK like Gibson, and that's much more evident in certain books than in others. Neuromancer's flavor is something that many people can pull off, whereas Gibson's other stuff still feels unique to Gibson, even after all the other authors have had their time to get inspired and crank out their own stories. Neuromancer is (more) something that someone else could have written; his other works less so. This isn't a slam on Neuromancer at all, I loved it XD and it's not like "unique" is any kind of standard of awesome writing since you can also have Uniquely Horrible Writing, but I think being unique makes a "good" work ... stand out more, against all other works that could be equally "good". So in the end it's just why I think the others are more ... Gibson. Maybe.

    In conclusion, I also finished Count Zero recently (on a Kindle, appropriately?) and really loved it. *g* It really gives the best of all of Gibson's worlds! Now to work my way through Virtual Light.