So, the American Philosophy Association awarded the 2021 Book Prize to my book, GAMES: AGENCY AS ART. I am: shocked, elated, bemused, joyous, and more than a little bewildered.
I think I get to make, like, a little acceptance speech or something? So here it is:
This book was the center of my intellectual, emotional, and spiritual life for like 7 years. I also spent the whole time pretty sure that, like, nobody would read it except for maybe half-a-dozen other weirdos like me who were already writing about the philosophy of games.
I'd actually been on the verge of giving up on philosophy. I couldn't get myself to be interested anymore in the Official Topics that I was supposed to be interested in, and I couldn't figure out how to get other people interested in the stuff I was really interested in.
I also couldn't get anything published. I was pretty depressed. I was thinking of quitting. First, I tried an interim move: accepting alienation from the philosophical mainstream, and just writing about whatever the hell I wanted to. Which turned out to be games.
There are actually many other versions of this book, other alternate manuscripts, that I killed off. Those other versions were written in very impersonal, very official, very technical language. I hated them. There was no joy in them.
I had felt for a long time that I was split into two halves - the journalist/creative writer, which felt like me. And the professional philosopher - who took topics I cared about and emitted these awful, technical, dead-sounding things.
I think, as I kept writing versions of the book and killing them off, that I was actually figuring out how to connect those two parts, to write things that sounded like real philosophy, but also sounded like *me*.
And so I ended up with something that I was proud of, that merged of all the weird shit I actually cared about. I felt like I had finally found a philosophy writing voice that felt like me. But I sent it off, thinking: this is definitely too weird to ever see the light of day.
So it is particularly wonderful, and delicious, and genuinely shocking, to me, that people seem to be reading this book - and to get an award like this. I am really, really, really moved, and happy.
Theres a lot of people I owe an enormous amount to, without whom I would have abandoned the games stuff - and this profession - years ago. To everybody that listened to me babbling inchoately about games for years, who thought it was interesting, who poked at it - thank you.
Oh, if you're curious, here's an old tweet-thread about the book itself:
It's about how Twitter calls for intimate speech and then crushes that intimacy. About how Twitter rewards us for gambling on shared context - and then gives us the perfect tool to destroy that context.
The whole inspiration of the piece is Ted Cohen's philosophy of jokes. Cohen says: all jokes depend on some shared background knowledge. And that shared background needs to emerge as a surprise. You totally ruin the joke if you warn your audience about what they need to know.
So every joke is a trust fall. You take a gamble, a leap of faith. You're depending on the pre-existence of shared context. This is why, says, Cohen, jokes build intimacy. The point of a joke is that you're depending on somebody else to be there for you, to understand.
The funniest argument I have ever read is Augustine's theory of sexual shame in City of God. It somehow starts with a totally reasonable question ("Why is our nudity shameful?") and ends up someplace beyond gonzo... about the agility of our genitalia in Paradise. Thread:
So here's Augustine's question: why is our nudity supposed to be shameful?
It can't be because our bodies are shameful, because they're made in God's image.
It can't be because sex is bad, because God told us to reproduce.
It can't be because pleasure is bad, because there's plenty of other pleasures that are fine.
"The Seductions of Clarity" is now officially out!
It's about how to fake clarity - how to manipulate the *feeling* of understanding to manipulate beliefs. With two core case studies: conspiracy theories and bureaucratic language.
The main idea: we are cognitively limited beings, that need to guesstimate what's worth investigating, and what's not. We need a *heuristic for terminating thought*. Because we don't have the time to investigate everything.
Proposal: many of us use the *feeling of clarity* as a heuristic for terminating thought. We use the feeling of confusion as a signal to investigate something, and the feeling of clarity as a signal that we're done.
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got, delivered by a wise person while I was fuming over a parking ticket:
"3% of your income is for mistakes. If it's too much over, you're too sloppy. If it's too much under, you're sweating the smalls stuff too much."
The exact number should probably be varied depending on life circumstances, etc. But the idea that one can make *too few* mistakes and that this is a sign of wasted energy on diminishing returns was... profoundly transformative, and I've ended up applying it everywhere.
Related: A German friend just told me that Germany is having a much worse time with the vaccine rollout, literally because Germany is spending a huge amount of time making sure only eligible people get the vaccine, where the US has a "if a few people line-skip, eff-it" strategy.
So I've been stuck on the camera policy for my Zoom classes. I totally get the worries about student privacy and invasiveness. But I also know that my teaching gets radically worse when I'm facing mostly all black squares. So this time, I tried complete honesty.
Report-thread:
My last term of Zoom/COVID teaching, I was totally convinced by the arguments that demanding cameras on was an invasion of privacy, that looking into a student's home life was a totally different matter from having them show up into your class.
I said, very directly, that I had no problems with cameras off. The result: all students left their cameras off, and I was left lecturing into a sea of black squares. I found this exhausting, isolating, miserable. And my teaching suffered badly, from lack of feedback.
New paper forthcoming: "The Seductions of Clarity"! The paper is about the seductive *feeling* of clarity, and how that feeling might be faked - and how our cognitive vulnerabilities might be manipulated.
It's about the *sense* of understanding - not actual, genuine understanding, but the *feeling* associated with understanding. I propose: we use this sense of clarity as a thought-terminating heuristic.
We cognitively limited beings actually need a heuristic to end our investigations. But this creates a huge vulnerability. If an epistemic manipulator can fake the sense of clarity, then they can get us to end our investigations too early - and swallow a flawed belief system.