2026-01-05 19:03:53
There are some disagreements that are really about naming: the two parties could live and let live about the underlying substance, but one or both get very upset if the others claim a given name.
For example, some religious tensions are like this: some religions would be fine to live-and-let-live with Minority Y if they would "admit" that they're just an unrelated group with no true claim to be X-ian, but are adamantly anti-Y if Yers are claiming the label X.
Or take what is now the Republic of North Macedonia, whose applications to join NATO and the EU were stalled for a long time over a dispute about what name they could/couldn't claim, rather than about whether the-polity-this-name-points-at could be a member.
Personally I feel this way about American Cheese. It's not something I want to eat, but I could live-and-let-live if it came by a different name. But the fact that A.C. is identified as Cheese 1) makes my life much more difficult, because I get into complex negotiations at delis over whether something containing "cheese" actually contains cheese, and 2) just feels philosophically wrong.
To the extent that there's a lesson here, it's that maybe occasionally a fight can be solved very easily just by changing something's name. I doubt this is actually useful very often, because it would only be true in the case that one side cares passionately about the name and the other is completely unbothered, and in such a case it's unlikely it would have become a big deal in the first place. But if you realize you're in such a case and therefore fighting about nothing but names then voila, problem solved.
2025-12-31 21:33:02
One thing I think about a lot is which activities are actually much more dangerous than most people realize, and which (potentially) they wouldn't do as much if they realized the costs. I have five nominations: agility sports, airplanes/airports, skiing and snowboarding, cycling in cities, and international travel.
One reason I suspect people don't take these dangers seriously is that their own experiences seem too anecdotal. And I think there's potential mistakes on both sides here, i.e. you can trust your anecdotal experiences too much and too little. If you have one friend who got swallowed whole by a zoo-lion, that's probably not evidence that zoos are more dangerous than we think they are, that's just incredibly bad luck. But if it's happened to 3 different people in your network then it's probably time to notice and ask questions, even if the statistics say zoos are very safe overall.
The thing is, some of the dangers in your own personal life really wouldn't show up in national statistics. For example, the statistical probability that an American will be struck by lightening in their lifetime is 1-in-10k, but that risk is not evenly distributed. I live in a big city and I'm pretty sure that if lightning struck here it would hit a skyscraper long before it got to me. But if you live up a mountain and love hiking and have multiple friends who have gotten in near misses with Zeus' arrows, your personal risk is probably much higher and you should probably take that seriously.
One way I think about this is that I have a limited number of friends and relations, and if any specific injury or tragedy has happened to 3 or more people I know then it's probably a meaningful danger for People Like Me. Again, there's a lot of ways to overestimate your risks and I really don't want to encourage that – you're more likely to hear about your friend's cousin who spontaneously combusted than your other-friends' other-cousins who live quiet, desperate but uneventful lives. But I think some people over-index on statistical data to the point where they're ignoring the patterns in their own immediate experience.
Without further ado, here are my nominations: if you have more, please do leave them in the comments.
I have long believed that any sport which requires quick changes of direction is far more dangerous than most of my friends acknowledge. I don't know a normal name for these so I'm going to call them Agility Sports, though maybe it should be Reflex Sports, or Plyometrics or something.
I think the main danger in these sports is that you'll twist, sprain or tear some part of your foot or leg and be unable to walk for a month or two: this is obviously not the worst thing in the world, but it's very inconvenient, and to me makes those sports not-worth-it overall. For example, bros-of-the-blog (gender-neutral) C and S recently invited me to play squash, and I greatly like the idea of playing squash with them, but I also like being able to walk, so I declined.
Most team sports have this property (e.g. soccer, basketball), but so do some individual sports that include sudden and uncontrolled movement. By contrast, weightlifting doesn't have any of this, and I suspect it's safer than people realize. But I'm not at all confident about how human bodies work, and I wouldn't be surprised to discover that some kinds of strength training ultimately cause asymmetric development which ultimately leads to sprains/twists/tears.
Of course, not-exercising at all is dangerous in a different way, so I don't want to cause anyone to stop exercising completely. Experīmentum perīculōsum, iūdicium difficile.
I'm not sure I have to justify this one: I think everyone kinda-knows they're super dangerous, but people keep doing them anyway. I feel like they must be unbelievably fun for the amount of risk that people take on for them, it's got all the leg-tearingness of agility sports plus some additional risk of paralyzation or death.
No I don't mean for mortality, I know that air travel is safer than driving etc.
But almost-every time I travel by plane lately I catch a cold or something, and I've given up on pretending this is a coincidence. I remember being told that airplanes filter all the air continuously, so they're safer than not-airplanes for respiratory infections, so maybe I'm actually catching something in the airport rather than the airplane. Or maybe air travel just tires me out a lot, and weakens my immune system, and then I catch something afterwards as a result. I don't know, I just think something is going on here that is not being captured in any kind of statistics: generally, I sense that any kind of negative health outcome that does not lead to hospitalization doesn't get recorded, but cumulatively can be meaningful for your own personal decisions (e.g. train vs plane travel, or how much elective travel to do).
One of my favourite people got hit by a car while cycling in a city and had their life changed forever, and frankly that was enough by itself to put me off city-cycling. After it happened I realised that I've had multiple friends who have had to go to hospital duty to city-biking accidents, though thankfully most of them were ok in the long run.
This one is tricky because all of the methods of transport in big cities have dangers, either inherent (like car accidents) or contingent (like safety concerns with walking or riding transit).
I'm specifically saying "city cycling" here because I think it has a different risk profile than cycling in the suburbs or countryside, I just don't know enough about the latter to say anything.
By the way: as I understand it, bike helmets have foam inside and once that foam has been impacted even once it will be condensed and no longer function if you're hit again, even if the helmet has no visible damage on the outside. So e.g. if you drop your bike helmet on the ground, it's no longer going to protect you correctly if heaven forbid you got in an accident.
The book Plague Time claims that many chronic illnesses – heart disease, Alzheimer’s, schizophrenia, many forms of cancer – are not actually idiopathic but rather are caused by germs.
If this turned out to be true, I think one of the implications would be that travelling to exotic places is way more dangerous than we think it is. Basically, anywhere that you could pick up new and interesting germs, different from the ones you're already exposed to, would put you unknowingly at risk of a lifetime of chronic disease. Depending on the percentages, I think that might singlehandedly tip the balance on making certain kinds of elective foreign travel not-worth-it.
2025-12-29 21:23:49
This is supposedly the best book about getting a divorce.
I am extremely not-getting a divorce, but
1) I saw two uncorrelated references to it as a Best In Category book, which usually gets things onto my book-list regardless of what they are (e.g. this is also why I'm reading a book about Call Center Management).
2) I think we should all probably spend more time doing "disaster preparedness" like this? If you ever do get a divorce / go to hospital / get sued, you will suddenly be trying to learn about a complex Systems Problem at the exact same time that you're extremely stressed and emotionally fraught. And frankly, for most white collar professionals, these are higher-probability prepping situations than stockpiling food and water, but I know far more people who do the latter. (I think the food-and-water prepping is also worth it, though! Life hack if you're in America: find your nearest LDS home storage center).
3) I am (to reiterate) extremely not-getting divorced but I do get into various situations where someone is mad at me and I am mad or sad at them, and I want to do a better job of navigating those situations, and I suspect that a good divorce book would have useful lessons about this. I think one useful life-strategy in general is to get the "professional grade" version of things even though you're only using them at an amateur level, e.g. mountaineering jackets are going to be really water-and-windproof, and this is helpful to me even though the only mountains I go near are metaphorical. So I figured a divorce book might be helpful in dealing with other kinds of contentions.
Anyway, thoughts from this book:
So, there you go. Everything you hopefully won't need to know about getting a divorce. If you have other books I should add to my pile, let me know.
2025-12-27 00:45:03
Happy last days of 2025! Here's a review of the year in Blog, for those meta-interested in blogging.
By far our most popular post this year was 21 Facts About Throwing Good Parties. A lot of you probably know that writing online is very power-lawed, but maybe not quite how extreme it is: I think Party Facts already has 1000x more views than our average post, and the gap will probably keep growing over time. Enormous thanks to our editor friend A., who "commissioned" it, and needs to give us more blogpost ideas since she's clearly better at it than we are.
Another highly-reacted post from this year was How Weird Do You All Want This Blog To Be?, which generated more direct comments and emails than anything else we've written, and generally made the blog feel worth doing again. Overall it's kind of shocking how much blogging feels like shouting into a void, so thank you to everyone who turned that void into more of a soiree.
We started this blog almost-exactly four years ago in order to share the good news about Monosodium Glutamate. I had read a bunch of people online claiming that if you blog consistently for a year or two you will naturally start to develop an audience and... I don't think that's actually true? We had a bunch of unfair advantages when starting this blog, a higher-than-average connectedness in the graph of existing successful bloggers, and I would still say that mostly our audience is staggeringly small because the audience for almost-any writing like this is staggeringly small: if people could see the actual reader numbers for various prestige magazines they would cry.
Towards the end of this year I got a few big benefits from the blog that might singlehandedly justify all the time that's gone into it: I met two exceptional teachers/guides who are helping me with two major areas of existence, and made one outstanding real-life friend, for which I'm exceedingly grateful. Someone once said that posting online is a complicated, indirect search function for finding people you resonate with, and I think I'm finally feeling that. But it's probably not restricted to posting, it's more like... making stuff and sharing it with the world is a search function for finding people you'll like.
I blog largely because I have too many thoughts in my head, and left to themselves they keep repeating themselves at me, and blogging lets me clear them out and make space for new thoughts to happen. I do feel like there's a certain magic to writing, and ways that it's uniquely good at letting you think through an argument, and review and re-edit and sharpen what you actually believe. (I think that seeing something in text that you don't really believe is viscerally uncomfortable, and you therefore have to delete it, and therefore help yourself understand what isn't true).
I also think there's a physical dimension to the glory of writing, that trying to structure your thoughts on a 2-D page is inherently Good, and that physically moving segments around helps you figure out which parts are most important, and which bits are pre-requisites for which other bits, and where there's actually massive gaps that you didn't notice while thinking because of the non-linearity of internal experience.
That said... blogging has taken up a vast amount of my time, and I can't honestly say if the opportunity cost was worth it. (Well: to the extent it keeps me out of trouble, maybe that goes the other way). I often suspect that there are some people who just love writing, but other people who love idea-wrangling and then just happen to end up path-dependently doing their idea-wrangling in writing. I think if I could make myself switch from blogging to video or audio I would be better off, and if you're thinking of blogging but feel like you could channel your thoughts through games or short-form videos instead, you might realistically be better off cultivating that.
Happy end of Q1 21C to all! And wishing you an excellent Q2.
2025-12-24 21:27:28
The "endowment effect" is the claim that people overvalue things they own relative to things they don't, even if they only just got the item and don't have any reason to be attached to it (or have inside information about it).
So: participants in an experiment are rewarded with a tchotchke, and then they're asked if they'd like to trade it for a different tchotchke, and they disproportionately choose to keep their first tchotchke, even though it was randomly assigned and the people assigned tchotchke-2 generally keep that one too.
I'm sure this finding isn't entirely true, but unlike many other social psych findings it feels genuinely plausible to me.
I think there's a kind of endowment effect for our own lives, and I think I have unusually little of it: I don't generally feel that my job/beliefs/experiences etc are better just because they're mine. (My blog readership, of course, is precious and unique and I would not trade it for anything).
I'm sure you could prove in 10 seconds that I do still have a large and irrational endowment on these things, but my sense is it's far less than other people's. If you also experience this, or experience the opposite, I'd be keen to hear more.
Here's a thing that bothers me greatly. If one person insists on spending 100 hours researching a topic before having an opinion about it, while another spends 1 hour, the low-research person will publish 100x more opinions.
And just on principle I think for any given topic there'd be far more people who have researched it for an hour (or less) than people who have researched it for 100.
So unless there's some gating on whose opinions get published, or some reason to assume that informed opinions would get more traction than uninformed ones, most of the opinions you read will be from people who know very little about the topic.
And note that this is fractal: even if you decide to only listen to (say) Harvard Trained Historians, there will still be far more published content by the Harvard Trained Historians With A Low Bar For Having An Opinion than from the ones who insist on researching a lot before opining.
This seems very bad.
Of all the convoluted pointless bureaucratic loopholes I jump through, one of the least important but most poignant is borrowing ebooks from the library. There's a digital file somewhere that has 0 marginal cost of reproduction, and me and a bunch of other people queue up to have access to it, and when it's my turn to borrow I have three weeks to read it (which usually expire before I get to it), while other people are needlessly excluded from reading at the same time, and all for... what? As I said, there are other more-important pretzels we tie ourselves in for legal fiction reasons, but this one is just so vivid as a pointless game we play to pretend that something is what it isn't.
2025-12-22 21:30:58
I have been asked before if ATVBT has any official editorial positions, and I believe the only one is "aliens are real and extremely nearby".
This position was widely mocked until extremely recently, is currently on the cusp of social acceptability, and (I think) will soon be extremely mainstream, with everyone pretending that they were always open to it and never mocked it (while of course shunning the weirdos who were saying it twenty years ago).
Luckily, if you start investigating aliens today, you can be at just the right time to be part of the "early majority" – your friends will remember that you were talking about it just before it became popular, but after the New York Times published testimony from US Navy pilots that they'd seen objects doing things that no known human technology can do.
A good place to start for alien exposure is the recently-released movie Age of Disclosure. It tries to convey that there's a bipartisan understanding at the top of the US government that
1) aliens exist, in a non-trivial near-earth sense,
2) there's been some shady maneuvering for a while now to prevent democratic oversight of the government's alien knowledge, and
3) the dam is breaking and it’s all coming out soon, one way or another.
I have some quibbles with the movie. There is some really unnecessary equivocation between the extremely uncontroversial position "humans are not the only intelligent life in the universe," which ~most people I know believe in the abstract, and the not-yet-popular position "aliens exist and are in contact with the earth."
In an effort to assert bipartisanity, the trailer for the film gives equal billing to headline interviewees Marco Rubio (Republican) and Kirsten Gillibrand (Democrat), but in the movie itself Gillibrand basically just says that alien life probably exists somewhere and that the intelligence services and defense contractors should be accountable to democratically elected representatives, both of which I think are uncontroversial but not groundbreaking.
I think this is a useful pattern to remember when looking at alien stuff: it will simultaneously be true that most of the claimed evidence for aliens is shoddy and/or fake, and also that the best evidence is sufficient to be convincing. (This is actually a helpful thing to remember for many other arguments, but that’s another story).
The good news is, I think the movie is convincing after you chop out the fluff. Basically:
Overall, for me, the movie backs up the claim that either near-earth aliens are real, or the US government wants you to think that near-earth aliens are real, and either way it should be a massive story. That's really the number one question for me to people who think it's all a hoax or misdirection: ok sure, but isn't that kind of huge deal too? I have to stress this is from very senior people in both political parties.
One interesting thing to do if you’re alien-curious is just to go around asking your friends if they’ve seen UFOs. One of the first things that pushed me towards belief in aliens was sitting at a random hangout with 6 people and one of them brought up aliens, turned out 4 out of 6 had seen a UFO (alas I was one of the remaining two). Everyone seemed surprised to learn about each other’s UFO stories, and all the stories were more detailed and meaningful than I would have expected.