Why Do We Need Biological Thinking?

Content Summary：The book "Overcomplicated: Technology at the Limits of Comprehension" discusses the growing complexity of our world and the limitations of human understanding. Historically, humans created a predictable, controllable environment, symbolized by "clocks," amidst a chaotic world of "clouds." However, modern advancements have blurred these distinctions, making even man-made systems complex and unpredictable. Specialization, once a foundation of human progress, is now unreliable as even experts struggle with this complexity. The "accretion effect" accelerates this growth, exemplified by the Y2K problem. The book suggests adopting "biological thinking" and viewing complex systems like AI as extensions of ourselves, fostering a relationship of care and hope rather than fear.

 Recently, I listened to a book titled "Overcomplicated: Technology at the Limits of Comprehension." This book highlights a contemporary dilemma: our living environment has become too complex.

Looking back 200 years, at the beginning of the modernization process, humans felt very accomplished. Although the world was inherently chaotic and complex, at least our man-made world was clear, rational, controllable, and predictable. Look at how appealing Newton's laws are, how simple the machines we created were, how precise the measuring tools were, and how wise the teams of engineers were.

In the early 20th century, philosopher Karl Popper had a famous saying: "Clocks and Clouds." This refers to the idea that things in the world can be divided into two states: clocks, symbolizing precision and predictability, representing the man-made world; and clouds, symbolizing unclear boundaries and uncertain states. But think about it, there were no clocks in the world originally; it was humans who, in a world full of clouds, carved out a path and created a world of clocks.

However, in just 200 years, the result of human endeavors is that the realm of clocks has become smaller while the domain of clouds has grown larger. Even the man-made clocks have become increasingly complex, eventually turning into clouds.

Nowadays, every aspect of human society is shrouded in the fog of complexity. For example, the U.S. federal tax code has over 74,000 pages, meaning that no one in the entire United States truly understands how the country collects taxes. Similarly, in the financial industry, after a financial product has been repeatedly repackaged and sold, no one understands what it really is anymore. No one knows when this product might trigger a financial crisis, not even the financial experts.

"Overcomplicated: Technology at the Limits of Comprehension" makes an important point. In the past, human society's prosperity was built on the foundation of specialization. Even though many things were beyond our understanding, we knew that there were experts who understood. We relied on experts and felt reassured. But now, sometimes even specialists don't understand. For example, when fixing a computer, don't technicians often say, "I can't figure out what's wrong; let's try restarting it"? What is this? This is giving up control of the system, letting the system fix itself.

It is important to realize that specialization has been a fundamental guarantee of human prosperity. If even specialization becomes unreliable, it means that some of the underlying logic of human civilization may need to change. Today, it is fair to say that man's thinking is unable to cope with the environment he has created.

Why Is This Happening? Can We Control This Explosive Growth in Complexity?

Can we just stick to doing simple things that we can control? No, we can't. Why? Because of the "accretion effect." The term "accretion" comes from astronomy and refers to the process by which celestial bodies form by gradually accumulating matter around a core. For example, the Sun formed by gradually absorbing surrounding cosmic material. Similarly, everything in human society follows this process. The only difference is that this process used to be slow, but now it has accelerated to a point where the accumulated complexity is beyond our control.

Take, for example, the "Y2K problem" around the year 2000, which caused worldwide fear. Simply put, the earliest computer systems recorded years using two digits. For instance, if my father was born in 1974, early computers recorded it as '74'. Due to limited memory, this simplified format was used. However, when the year 2000 arrived, many software systems might reset to '00'. But would that mean 2000 or 1900? Because software systems had become so complex, no one knew if some critical software might suddenly fail, causing disaster. At that time, the software used in airplanes, power plants, and financial systems had evolved from those ancient systems. The original engineers had either retired or passed away, so no one knew what pitfalls those early technologies had set for the present. This is the complexity brought about by the "accretion effect."

You might then ask, why can't we control these systems created by layers of nested accretion?

"Overcomplicated: Technology at the Limits of Comprehension" offers an answer: human thinking is inherently unsuited to understanding highly nested systems. Forget about large software systems; even our daily language works this way. For example, the sentence "A dog bit a cat" is a single-layered nested system and easy to understand. But if I say, "A dog that was hit by a stick that was burned by fire bit the cat," the difficulty increases. Add a few more layers of nesting, and even if the sentence isn't long, it becomes incomprehensible. Why are philosophical works so difficult to read and understand? For instance, if I read you a sentence by the philosopher Immanuel Kant: "The will is a kind of causality belonging to living beings in so far as they are rational," you might feel confused. It's not that we don't recognize the words or that the sentence is too long, but because there are too many nested logical layers, and our brains can't keep up.

So, after all this explanation, we find ourselves back at the frustrating starting point: our generation is facing immense complexity, and our brains can't handle it. The world is becoming increasingly uncontrollable. What should we do?

Why Do We Need Biological Thinking?

The biggest surprise for me in the book " Overcomplicated: Technology at the Limits of Comprehension " wasn't the specific methods it offered, but rather a way of thinking. More specifically, it’s encapsulated in one word: "naches." In Yiddish, used by Jewish people, "naches" refers to a deep sense of pride and joy, particularly the vicarious pride and joy parents feel from their children's achievements. Imagine the pure happiness parents feel at their child's graduation or wedding.

This feeling is actually very common among humans, not just between parents and their children. For instance, consider an immigrant who comes to a new country. They (like my parents) know that as first-generation immigrants, their achievements will be limited despite their hard work. But they hope that through the efforts of one, two, or three generations, their family will eventually thrive. Similarly, a farsighted entrepreneur understands that their personal success is not enough; they must groom a capable successor to continue their legacy. Seeing their successor succeed brings them joy. These feelings are what the book describes as "naches."

So, what is the essence of this emotion? It’s the acknowledgment that one cannot control or even fully understand others, yet one recognizes these people as an integral part of oneself, an extension of one's own life. They let others carry on through time to make the world a better place, fulfilling one's own unaccomplished dreams. This is the essence of "naches."

With this understanding, when we look at our relationship with technology and complex systems, don’t we have a moment of enlightenment?

Parents and children have this relationship, as do entrepreneurs, politicians, and their successors. So, why can’t humanity see machines, software, and artificial intelligence in the same light? These creations are like our children. They have become so complex that we can no longer fully understand or control them. But then again, can parents fully understand and control their children? These complex entities can traverse time and achieve things that humans cannot. Why not find the same sense of "naches" from technological achievements that parents find in their children?

You might say that AI is dangerous and can cause problems. But so can children; they sometimes cause trouble and are unreliable. Yet, hasn’t humanity prospered by caring for, nurturing, and sacrificing for their children, generation after generation?

Therefore, the book's insight is this: if we cannot fix this world as we would a machine, we should redefine our relationship with complex systems as that between parents and children, replacing alienation with a sense of symbiosis and warmth. If fear and malice are ineffective, why not try goodwill and hope?