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PeterWatts_Blindsight

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Peter Watts 255 <strong>Blindsight</strong><br />

Evolution has no foresight. Complex machinery develops its<br />

own agendas. Brains—cheat. Feedback loops evolve to promote<br />

stable heartbeats and then stumble upon the temptation of rhythm<br />

and music. The rush evoked by fractal imagery, the algorithms<br />

used for habitat selection, metastasize into art. Thrills that once<br />

had to be earned in increments of fitness can now be had from<br />

pointless introspection. Aesthetics rise unbidden from a trillion<br />

dopamine receptors, and the system moves beyond modeling the<br />

organism. It begins to model the very process of modeling. It<br />

consumes ever-more computational resources, bogs itself down<br />

with endless recursion and irrelevant simulations. Like the<br />

parasitic DNA that accretes in every natural genome, it persists and<br />

proliferates and produces nothing but itself. Metaprocesses bloom<br />

like cancer, and awaken, and call themselves I.<br />

The system weakens, slows. It takes so much longer now to<br />

perceive—to assess the input, mull it over, decide in the manner of<br />

cognitive beings. But when the flash flood crosses your path, when<br />

the lion leaps at you from the grasses, advanced self-awareness is<br />

an unaffordable indulgence. The brain stem does its best. It sees<br />

the danger, hijacks the body, reacts a hundred times faster than that<br />

fat old man sitting in the CEO's office upstairs; but every<br />

generation it gets harder to work around this— this creaking<br />

neurological bureaucracy.<br />

I wastes energy and processing power, self-obsesses to the point<br />

of psychosis. Scramblers have no need of it, scramblers are more<br />

parsimonious. With simpler biochemistries, with smaller brains—<br />

deprived of tools, of their ship, even of parts of their own<br />

metabolism—they think rings around you. They hide their<br />

language in plain sight, even when you know what they're saying.<br />

They turn your own cognition against itself. They travel between<br />

the stars. This is what intelligence can do, unhampered by selfawareness.<br />

I is not the working mind, you see. For Amanda Bates to say "I<br />

do not exist" would be nonsense; but when the processes beneath<br />

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