The tyrannical human

In David Eagleman's book, "Incognito", he says that evolution is more intelligent than anything else. He may be right for one very important reason: evolution works with the principle popularly called the survival of the fittest. Within this program, multiple entities engage with each other and their environs in a struggle toward adaptation and, ultimately, survival without aiming themselves at it directly. In other words, the struggle for survival is woven into their lives in terms of needs like food, shelter and dominance, and at no point are they conscious of their march toward becoming a naturally sustainable variant of their species, whichever species that may be.

That said, consider the results of just the last million years of evolution—in flora as well as in fauna. Plants, at their microscopic scale all the same, are of various kinds because of the various conditions they exist in all around the world. Animals have learnt how to hunt and forage more efficiently. Humans have hunted, gathered, civilized themselves, and taught themselves. With intelligence serving as the sole difference, we have set ourselves apart from other animals in various ways. Intelligent thought gave us the capacity to think differently, to remember and to evoke, to mimic, reason, understand, socialize, and defend. Then, at some point, we believed we were equipped enough to simply attempt to recreate the intelligence that nature birthed in our form, and in doing so, we found that we were but ill-equipped.

Intelligence has been described in various ways, and they can all be summarized by the ability of intelligent life-forms to reason. While reasoning, we assess the problem statement, break it down into individual components that each make some sense, understand how they work with each other to create the problem, isolate the resources we may need to arrive at a solution, and then continuously deploy and eliminate our options until we arrive at the answer. In retrospect, isn't this how evolution works? Even though there may seem to exist only a few species of animals, nature contrives to create factions within each species divided solely on the lines of biological specifications, and lets these factions fight against each other until the best answer is arrived at.

Is this technique of combative problem-solving what makes evolution so intelligent? Is combative problem-solving the key to progress and evolution? Has anyone ever heard of cooperative problem-solving as being very intelligent, too? When we are stymied by what seems to be a complex problem, we often "put our heads together" to arrive at a solution. In that case, are we really cooperating? I don't think we are. When we "put our heads together", we increase the amount of intelligence that is available to assess each option before it is eliminated, in the process simply reducing the time taken to arrive at a solution. Why must we compete for the same resources in order for the best of us to become established, as it were? Why can't we simply identify the best traits in each one of us and then strive toward them?

That nature has no way of identifying, by itself, the best traits in each one of us could be an incentive for this process of elimination to exist. Being in no position to identify what we need to become, evolution's survival program is genius because it lets us define what we need to become and subsequently ensures that only those of us who have become it to survive. However, the question remains: does intelligence work the same way? Now, instead of saying humankind is the pinnacle of all evolution, let us assume that intelligence is. Being born out of the survival program like every other living thing on the planet, is intelligence, too, subject to the command of combative problem-solving? Does our faculty that assists with reasoning and logical assimilation naturally offer competing points of view for each problem? Or, more importantly, does our faculty that assists with learning and cognition develop in any sense when we engage in a dialectic with ourselves?

Every consideration, ultimately, boils down to a resolution of disagreement. When there is an absence of consensus, is consensus brought upon us simply by the elimination of the dissenting parties? Remove combative problem-solving from the process of problem-solving in general and disagreement becomes meaningless. When cooperative problem-solving is implemented, dissent is integrated into the problem-solving process, making it more democratic. However, the dissent itself is not eliminated, and cannot remain until the end or we would never have a "tipping in favour" of something.

[caption id="attachment_22938" align="alignleft" width="150" caption="Fractals display an internal symmetry, where the shape of the innermost branch is geometrically similar to the shape of the whole - much like intelligence and evolution?"][/caption]

Returning to the larger plot: it seems as if the way we think mimics the way evolution happens. Every time we reason, we deploy an algorithm that considers multiple points of view and then selects one after letting the two points of view battle it out with reference to a frame, a logical statement that we hold to be true. Does this mean combative problem-solving is hardwired into the human brain? Is that the signature of intelligence? And considering evolution is what gave birth to intelligence, is intelligence's hallmark also its creation-machine? Are we a composition of multitudes that cooperate, somehow, to give rise to what we perceive as being firm decisions? Is it at all possible that we can learn without "combative" thinking?

Let us take a simple case-study. When humans build robots to solve problems intelligently (in some part), how do the programmers know what the best way to solve a problem is? There are two options here. The first is that "the best way to solve a program is the best known way to solve it." In this case, the robot will borrow, and suffer, from the programmer's knowledge of the problem and the set of tools that are available to construct a solution. The second option is that "the best way to solve a program is to build into it the tools with which to construct different solutions and also the tools required to make an appropriate selection." A robot that entombs the former logic is called a machine and a robot that entombs the latter logic is termed as being artificially intelligent (AI). (Then again, AI also suffers from an inherited deficiency in terms of the programmer's knowledge of his "tools", but that is too deep a depth to plumb right now.)

Therefore, the creation of intelligence seems to lie within the capacity of thinking up solutions. Instead of asking what the best way to solve a problem is, it seems we must ask if there are different ways to solve a problem. Then, it is only a matter of pitting one solution against another and testing for greatest compatibility. However, even at this juncture, I can't help but think how much life would be different if cooperative problem-solving was the order of the day, if instead of eliminating different points of view and therefore deciding for ourselves what we must strive toward, we included different points of view and decided what we must strive against.

Or is that the ultimate goal?

I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?

I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?

I'm Indian. That means I'm stuck in the 1960s.

I sent this particular letter to a few newspaper editors in Chennai. One of them asked me to "start speaking like a 22-year old".

*

Dear Mr. Editor,

I am now a holder of an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering from an esteemed institute in India. I joined it in 2006 after mounting pressure at home; there are many things that contribute to this particular phenomenon — that of persisting in believing that engineering is the ONLY way to go — but a very significant one is that of the obsession with scores.

I'm no longer a student, and whatsoever I say now is not as a result of harassment at home. I say it because it is strange, severely unproductive (if not counter-productive) and, more importantly, it is reinforced year after year by the same establishment that also professes any capacity to put an end to it: the information broadcasting industry.

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone at this point; news is news. However, objectively speaking, I don't see any valid reason for high-scoring students in the state-instituted class XII examinations to merit any prominent mention right on (any of) the first few pages of a newspaper that sells 5+ lakh copies each day. This sort of coverage may have been justified if the examination in question was the UPSC entrance test, which is perhaps more consequential by orders of magnitude.

The Kothari Commission report submitted to the Indian government in 1966 established that India's needs were better met by engineering or medical science degree holders rather than those who had studied the liberal arts and/or the social sciences. However, times have changed significantly. In fact, India has been acknowledged for its scientific output repeatedly in international academic and political circles alike. What more do we want? Is it not quite palpably perceived that we lack the understanding required to bridge the gap between a country struggling under ancestral burdens and a country the greatest resource of which is its burgeoning numbers of youngsters? Is that not a need better met by studying the social sciences?

Why is it not sufficient to only declare the announcement of the results? Why does it seem pertinent to photograph each of the many toppers? Through this process of aggrandizement, scoring high becomes an incentive. I concede the threat presented by over six lakh competitors in each of the examinations, but that fact alone does not validate the celebration of these high-scorers. They have my heartiest of regards, but I think you will agree when I say that their accomplishments are monumentally insignificant when compared to so much as the discovery of an indigenous method to manufacture high-efficiency batteries — something that any engineering graduate will put his mind to if he or she knows any celebration is in the offing.

There is one last question I wish to ask: if there is any celebration at all, why must it stop with the class XII exams? It is popular opinion, and not quite wrong still, that given the voluminous syllabi, most of the students have not learnt anything as much as they have managed to remember it till the D-day. If there is to be any celebration, why not celebrate those exams that have an assuredly formidable practical component? Why not celebrate those achievements the incentivization of which promises tractable good for the nation?