Out of nothing, nature makes something.
First there is hard rock planet; then there is life, lots of it. First
barren hills; then brooks with fish and cattails and red-winged
blackbirds. First an acorn; then an oak tree forest.
I'd like to be able to do that. First a hunk of metal; then a robot.
First some wires; then a mind. First some old genes; then a
dinosaur.
How do you make something from nothing? Although nature knows this
trick, we haven't learned much just by watching her. We have learned
more by our failures in creating complexity and by combining these
lessons with small successes in imitating and understanding natural
systems. So from the frontiers of computer science, and the edges of
biological research, and the odd corners of interdisciplinary
experimentation, I have compiled The Nine Laws of God governing the
incubation of somethings from nothing: -
Distribute being -
Control from the bottom up -
Cultivate increasing returns -
Grow by chunking -
Maximize the fringes -
Honor your errors -
Pursue no optima; have multiple goals -
Seek persistent disequilibrium -
Change changes itself.
These nine laws are the organizing principles that can be found
operating in systems as diverse as biological evolution and SimCity. Of
course I am not suggesting that they are the only laws needed to make
something from nothing; but out of the many observations accumulating in
the science of complexity, these principles are the broadest, crispest,
and most representative generalities. I believe that one can go pretty
far as a god while sticking to these nine rules.
Distribute being. The spirit of a beehive, the
behavior of an economy, the thinking of a supercomputer, and the life in
me are distributed over a multitude of smaller units (which themselves
may be distributed). When the sum of the parts can add up to more than
the parts, then that extra being (that something from nothing) is
distributed among the parts. Whenever we find something from nothing, we
find it arising from a field of many interacting smaller pieces. All the
mysteries we find most interesting -- life, intelligence, evolution -- are
found in the soil of large distributed systems.
Control from the bottom up. When everything is
connected to everything in a distributed network, everything happens at
once. When everything happens at once, wide and fast moving problems
simply route around any central authority. Therefore overall governance
must arise from the most humble interdependent acts done locally in
parallel, and not from a central command. A mob can steer itself, and in
the territory of rapid, massive, and heterogeneous change, only a mob
can steer. To get something from nothing, control must rest at the
bottom within simplicity.
Cultivate increasing returns. Each time you use an
idea, a language, or a skill you strengthen it, reinforce it, and make
it more likely to be used again. That's known as positive feedback or
snowballing. Success breeds success. In the Gospels, this principle of
social dynamics is known as "To those who have, more will be given."
Anything which alters its environment to increase production of itself
is playing the game of increasing returns. And all large, sustaining
systems play the game. The law operates in economics, biology, computer
science, and human psychology. Life on Earth alters Earth to beget more
life. Confidence builds confidence. Order generates more order. Them
that has, gets.
Grow by chunking. The only way to make a complex
system that works is to begin with a simple system that works. Attempts
to instantly install highly complex organization -- such as intelligence or
a market economy -- without growing it, inevitably lead to failure. To
assemble a prairie takes time -- even if you have all the pieces. Time is
needed to let each part test itself against all the others. Complexity
is created, then, by assembling it incrementally from simple modules
that can operate independently.
Maximize the fringes. In heterogeneity is creation of
the world. A uniform entity must adapt to the world by occasional
earth-shattering revolutions, one of which is sure to kill it. A diverse
heterogeneous entity, on the other hand, can adapt to the world in a
thousand daily minirevolutions, staying in a state of permanent, but
never fatal, churning. Diversity favors remote borders, the outskirts,
hidden corners, moments of chaos, and isolated clusters. In economic,
ecological, evolutionary, and institutional models, a healthy fringe
speeds adaptation, increases resilience, and is almost always the source
of innovations.
Honor your errors. A trick will only work for a while,
until everyone else is doing it. To advance from the ordinary requires a
new game, or a new territory. But the process of going outside the
conventional method, game, or territory is indistinguishable from error.
Even the most brilliant act of human genius, in the final analysis, is
an act of trial and error. "To be an Error and to be Cast out is a part
of God's Design," wrote the visionary poet William Blake. Error, whether
random or deliberate, must become an integral part of any process of
creation. Evolution can be thought of as systematic error
management.
Pursue no optima; have multiple goals. Simple machines
can be efficient, but complex adaptive machinery cannot be. A
complicated structure has many masters and none of them can be served
exclusively. Rather than strive for optimization of any function, a
large system can only survive by "satisficing" (making "good enough") a
multitude of functions. For instance, an adaptive system must trade off
between exploiting a known path of success (optimizing a current
strategy), or diverting resources to exploring new paths (thereby
wasting energy trying less efficient methods). So vast are the mingled
drives in any complex entity that it is impossible to unravel the actual
causes of its survival. Survival is a many-pointed goal. Most living
organisms are so many-pointed they are blunt variations that happen to
work, rather than precise renditions of proteins, genes, and organs. In
creating something from nothing, forget elegance; if it works, it's
beautiful.
Seek persistent disequilibrium. Neither constancy nor
relentless change will support a creation. A good creation, like good
jazz, must balance the stable formula with frequent out-of-kilter notes.
Equilibrium is death. Yet unless a system stabilizes to an equilibrium
point, it is no better than an explosion and just as soon dead. A
Nothing, then, is both equilibrium and disequilibrium. A Something is
persistent disequilibrium -- a continuous state of surfing forever on the
edge between never stopping but never falling. Homing in on that liquid
threshold is the still mysterious holy grail of creation and the quest
of all amateur gods.
Change changes itself. Change can be structured. This
is what large complex systems do: they coordinate change. When extremely
large systems are built up out of complicated systems, then each system
begins to influence and ultimately change the organizations of other
systems. That is, if the rules of the game are composed from the bottom
up, then it is likely that interacting forces at the bottom level will
alter the rules of the game as it progresses. Over time, the rules for
change get changed themselves. Evolution -- as used in everyday speech -- is
about how an entity is changed over time. Deeper evolution -- as it might
be formally defined -- is about how the rules for changing entities over
time change over time. To get the most out of nothing, you need to have
self-changing rules.
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