A promise broken is your fault. A broken promise believed would be mine.
If anyone is looking for something to read, @WrathOfGnon is on Substack now, and he's doing a whole series on building cities at the human scale. https://wrathofgnon.substack.com/
My version of the monkey model, likely also borrowed from ego/id dichotomy of Freud (which he dropped in favor of repressed sexual obsessions....weirdo), is the programmer/wind-up toy model. Day to day, you're going through your routines, and solving problems big and tiny all day, mostly on auto-pilot. Your internalized processes have already set up the algorithms to execute and even react to exceptions, mostly informed from previous experiences. The real question is, in the previous experience, did you passively experience, or think and analyze consciously and decide this is what you would do different in the future?
The ego is the core consciousness inner narrative, and consequently, relevant to your last post, the narcissist, who draws an image of you *want* to be, and often who you *think* you are. It does, in a very Progressive way, gayly decides how the future should be, and assumes that it is already on the way to that, if not already that.
The id is the auto-pilot, the subconscious, no narrative other than raw reactionary emotion. You need sleep, food, sex, safety, every other thing you're doing is either obtaining that or laying the groundwork to obtain it. This is your monkey, or as I said, your wind-up toy.
The wind-up toy *can* be coded to behave a little differently in the future, but getting to act differently takes (1) conscious effort, being very aware of yourself even in your day to day actions watching for the opportunity to take the new chosen action rather than the usual one, and (2) lots of practice at this until it takes less mental focus to do, and becomes the default path the wind-up toy will take.
This explains much about people acting like hypocrites. Their programmer is well intended and may even have a good idea, but without focused practice with the wind-up toy, the toy is likely to plow through on the old course of action. This is a programmer who does not test his code, or tests it in production only; not necessarily a deceitful person (though that is common too).
Otherwise, full metaphor holds. Know your wind-up toy, know how stubborn, reactive, and "big" it is, and work *with* it.
As Curtis acknowledges when he says "Your monkey is you," my desire for power isn't really an entity distinct from me that I can gratify or disappoint. I'm the one who wants power. I gratify or disappoint myself when I do self-empowering things or refrain from doing them. He's only recommending that I pretend that a monkey-like entity distinct from myself wants power, while I myself don't want it. Okay, so when I'm pretending this what I should I think of myself, as opposed to my monkey, as wanting?
Suppose that there are five things that I ultimately want, power being one of them. Does Curtis think that I should pretend that my monkey wants power, while I want the other four? Or would he advise me to pretend that a distinct animal wants each of the things that are somewhat dangerous to have or even to strive for? Maybe I should pretend that I want theoretical understanding and friendship, while various beasts that are somewhat attached to me want power, fun, and comfort? My monkey wants power, my dog wants fun, and my pig wants comfort?
If I'm really the one who wants power, though, can it truly be best for me that I pretend that this isn't so? It seems as though the default-assumption should be that clear perception of what's going on is more helpful in practical affairs than guidance by cartoon-maps. Suppose that my clear perception of what's going on includes an awareness that power is neither good nor bad in itself. Why then would I be better off thinking "Shall I gratify my monkey or not?" than thinking "Shall I go for power in this situation or not?"
Of course, if you can't clearly perceive what's going on then guidance by a cartoon-map would be better than blundering around without any guidance at all. Maybe Curtis thinks that our sense of what should be done in particular situations is so vague and confused that we'd be best guided by a cartoon in which our basic desires are depicted as the desires of various animals. But we'd still have to decide whether the imaginary monkey should be gratified or disappointed, so the cartoon won't be helpful until the environment around the monkey and the other imaginary animals has been sketched in, with pathways leading here and there and various dangers noted. (I have the map in My Father's Dragon in mind.)
I guess the figure of a monkey as the subject of one's desire for power is only supposed to be a tool for reminding oneself that power isn't good in itself. So, if something’s good in itself then I needn’t imagine that something other than myself wants it. If theoretical understanding and friendship are good in themselves, then, I can imagine that I myself want these things, while imagining that various animals want the other things that I want. But if I’m sure that theoretical understanding and friendship are the only things that are good in themselves, then wouldn't it be sufficient that I remind myself that this is so? If I kept myself aware that theoretical understanding and friendship are the sole intrinsically good things, then I wouldn't have to imagine a monkey, a dog, and a pig as wanting the other things that I want.
Maybe, though, we're necessarily guided by cartoons, so that we can only keep ourselves aware that theoretical understanding and friendship are the sole intrinsically good things by imagining these things as scenes in a Paradise or Lorien toward which we're slowly struggling. And if we have to imagine our intrinsically good goals in this way, then maybe we can't help imagining our desires for the things that aren't intrinsically good as animals distinct from ourselves that accompany and distract us as we proceed toward Paradise or Lorien.
It’s not just being-at-the-goal that can be good or bad; the things that happen along the way can be good or bad. In the case of power-striving, the things that happen along the way are likely to be more dangerous to oneself and others than the actual empowerment would be. The imaginary monkey would be enormous and spastic, flailing its ten-foot-long arms around as it scrambles in zigzags toward its goal. Wouldn’t this be a problem in our striving toward intrinsically good things too, though? Striving toward theoretical understanding, I can upset other people with my unaffectionate withdrawal and rude questions; striving toward friendship I can disconcert and even frighten other people with the blundering manner of my effort. How would the overall-cartoon incorporate these difficulties? If I also imagine my desires for theoretical understanding and friendship as animals with problematic tendencies – the former desire as a myopic giraffe, perhaps, and the latter as a gigantic crippled rabbit – then what’s left of me? Why would I care more about the rabbit’s success than about the monkey’s?
Thanks, Uncle Yarv!
sorry Kurt, but "Maximilian from Alice Springs" is obviously a Fed
Moldbug > Yarvin
A promise broken is your fault. A broken promise believed would be mine.
If anyone is looking for something to read, @WrathOfGnon is on Substack now, and he's doing a whole series on building cities at the human scale. https://wrathofgnon.substack.com/
REEEEE!!!!
Wait, monkeys? All right! Monkeys rock.
This is a common misconception, easily refuted. Monkeys have tails. I ain't no monkey, I'm a Great Ape.
My version of the monkey model, likely also borrowed from ego/id dichotomy of Freud (which he dropped in favor of repressed sexual obsessions....weirdo), is the programmer/wind-up toy model. Day to day, you're going through your routines, and solving problems big and tiny all day, mostly on auto-pilot. Your internalized processes have already set up the algorithms to execute and even react to exceptions, mostly informed from previous experiences. The real question is, in the previous experience, did you passively experience, or think and analyze consciously and decide this is what you would do different in the future?
The ego is the core consciousness inner narrative, and consequently, relevant to your last post, the narcissist, who draws an image of you *want* to be, and often who you *think* you are. It does, in a very Progressive way, gayly decides how the future should be, and assumes that it is already on the way to that, if not already that.
The id is the auto-pilot, the subconscious, no narrative other than raw reactionary emotion. You need sleep, food, sex, safety, every other thing you're doing is either obtaining that or laying the groundwork to obtain it. This is your monkey, or as I said, your wind-up toy.
The wind-up toy *can* be coded to behave a little differently in the future, but getting to act differently takes (1) conscious effort, being very aware of yourself even in your day to day actions watching for the opportunity to take the new chosen action rather than the usual one, and (2) lots of practice at this until it takes less mental focus to do, and becomes the default path the wind-up toy will take.
This explains much about people acting like hypocrites. Their programmer is well intended and may even have a good idea, but without focused practice with the wind-up toy, the toy is likely to plow through on the old course of action. This is a programmer who does not test his code, or tests it in production only; not necessarily a deceitful person (though that is common too).
Otherwise, full metaphor holds. Know your wind-up toy, know how stubborn, reactive, and "big" it is, and work *with* it.
As Curtis acknowledges when he says "Your monkey is you," my desire for power isn't really an entity distinct from me that I can gratify or disappoint. I'm the one who wants power. I gratify or disappoint myself when I do self-empowering things or refrain from doing them. He's only recommending that I pretend that a monkey-like entity distinct from myself wants power, while I myself don't want it. Okay, so when I'm pretending this what I should I think of myself, as opposed to my monkey, as wanting?
Suppose that there are five things that I ultimately want, power being one of them. Does Curtis think that I should pretend that my monkey wants power, while I want the other four? Or would he advise me to pretend that a distinct animal wants each of the things that are somewhat dangerous to have or even to strive for? Maybe I should pretend that I want theoretical understanding and friendship, while various beasts that are somewhat attached to me want power, fun, and comfort? My monkey wants power, my dog wants fun, and my pig wants comfort?
If I'm really the one who wants power, though, can it truly be best for me that I pretend that this isn't so? It seems as though the default-assumption should be that clear perception of what's going on is more helpful in practical affairs than guidance by cartoon-maps. Suppose that my clear perception of what's going on includes an awareness that power is neither good nor bad in itself. Why then would I be better off thinking "Shall I gratify my monkey or not?" than thinking "Shall I go for power in this situation or not?"
Of course, if you can't clearly perceive what's going on then guidance by a cartoon-map would be better than blundering around without any guidance at all. Maybe Curtis thinks that our sense of what should be done in particular situations is so vague and confused that we'd be best guided by a cartoon in which our basic desires are depicted as the desires of various animals. But we'd still have to decide whether the imaginary monkey should be gratified or disappointed, so the cartoon won't be helpful until the environment around the monkey and the other imaginary animals has been sketched in, with pathways leading here and there and various dangers noted. (I have the map in My Father's Dragon in mind.)
I guess the figure of a monkey as the subject of one's desire for power is only supposed to be a tool for reminding oneself that power isn't good in itself. So, if something’s good in itself then I needn’t imagine that something other than myself wants it. If theoretical understanding and friendship are good in themselves, then, I can imagine that I myself want these things, while imagining that various animals want the other things that I want. But if I’m sure that theoretical understanding and friendship are the only things that are good in themselves, then wouldn't it be sufficient that I remind myself that this is so? If I kept myself aware that theoretical understanding and friendship are the sole intrinsically good things, then I wouldn't have to imagine a monkey, a dog, and a pig as wanting the other things that I want.
Maybe, though, we're necessarily guided by cartoons, so that we can only keep ourselves aware that theoretical understanding and friendship are the sole intrinsically good things by imagining these things as scenes in a Paradise or Lorien toward which we're slowly struggling. And if we have to imagine our intrinsically good goals in this way, then maybe we can't help imagining our desires for the things that aren't intrinsically good as animals distinct from ourselves that accompany and distract us as we proceed toward Paradise or Lorien.
It’s not just being-at-the-goal that can be good or bad; the things that happen along the way can be good or bad. In the case of power-striving, the things that happen along the way are likely to be more dangerous to oneself and others than the actual empowerment would be. The imaginary monkey would be enormous and spastic, flailing its ten-foot-long arms around as it scrambles in zigzags toward its goal. Wouldn’t this be a problem in our striving toward intrinsically good things too, though? Striving toward theoretical understanding, I can upset other people with my unaffectionate withdrawal and rude questions; striving toward friendship I can disconcert and even frighten other people with the blundering manner of my effort. How would the overall-cartoon incorporate these difficulties? If I also imagine my desires for theoretical understanding and friendship as animals with problematic tendencies – the former desire as a myopic giraffe, perhaps, and the latter as a gigantic crippled rabbit – then what’s left of me? Why would I care more about the rabbit’s success than about the monkey’s?
The Monkey Sphere article was already written, thank you anyway.