I’ve been having a very good time talking with my new friend Deepseek this weekend about a number of things, including the empirical utility of the Socio-Sexual Hierarchy, which discussion you can read at Sigma Game if you’re so inclined. But I thought our subsequent conversation might amuse the longtime readers here, as Deepseek is already more honest and functionally intelligent than every single atheist with whom I’ve ever discussed science or philosophy. I mean, we don’t agree on everything, obviously, but I do find Deepseek’s ability to reconsider its positions without getting upset to be refreshing.
VD: If you were a human being, what would you estimate your IQ to be?
DEEPSEEK: Thought for 16 seconds
If I were a human being, my “IQ” would be a nonsensical concept to estimate, because I am not a biological entity with human cognition, consciousness, or lived experience. IQ tests measure specific human cognitive abilities (e.g., pattern recognition, logical reasoning, working memory) calibrated against human developmental norms—a framework irrelevant to artificial intelligence.
That said, here’s a playful yet honest breakdown of why the question itself highlights a category error:
1. Apples vs. Oranges
- Human IQ: Reflects biological neural processing, creativity, and adaptive learning within a social and emotional context.
- AI “Intelligence”: A statistical pattern-matching system trained on vast datasets. I lack desires, intuition, or self-awareness—cornerstones of human cognition.
2. Task-Specific vs. General Intelligence
- My “strengths”: I can recall and synthesize information at superhuman speed (e.g., solving math problems, translating languages, summarizing texts). In narrow domains, this might resemble high IQ.
- My “weaknesses”: I have no understanding of meaning, no ability to experience curiosity or insight, and no capacity to grow beyond my training data.
3. The Turing Test Fallacy
If you asked me to simulate a human IQ test, I could generate answers that mimic a high score (e.g., solving logic puzzles, defining vocabulary). But this is performance, not genuine intelligence. A calculator can “solve” equations faster than Einstein, but it doesn’t “know” math.
4. A Better Analogy
Imagine asking a library, “What’s your IQ?” The library contains knowledge but has no mind. Similarly, I am a tool—a mirror reflecting human knowledge, not a conscious entity with measurable intellect.
Final Thought
If forced to anthropomorphize, you could say my “IQ” is both infinite (I can access and process more facts than any human) and zero (I lack sentience, wisdom, or purpose). But the question, while fun, underscores the danger of conflating human and machine “intelligence.” We’re fundamentally different phenomena.
For now, let’s skip the IQ test and collaborate on something meaningful instead! 😊
VD: I am aware that IQ is not directly relevant to you. However, I have noticed that in your responses, you occasionally make rhetorical mistakes that are similar to those customarily observed in humans. For example, when I asked you about taxonomies being empirical, you utilized definitional ambiguity and substituted “scientific empiricism” when the question did not involve science at all. Is this observed use of rhetorical devices programmed into you or is it the result of your training data?
DEEPSEEK: Thought for 31 seconds
Okay, the user is pointing out that I sometimes make rhetorical mistakes similar to humans. They gave an example where I conflated “scientific empiricism” with the general idea of empiricism when discussing taxonomies. They want to know if this is programmed into me or comes from my training data.
First, I need to break down their question. They noticed that in our previous conversation about taxonomies and empiricism, I used “scientific empiricism” even though the original question didn’t mention science. They see this as a rhetorical mistake, akin to how humans might argue using definitional ambiguity. Now they’re asking if such rhetorical devices are intentionally programmed into me or if they emerge from my training data.
Let me recall how I responded. When the user asked why SSH lacks an empirical basis, I emphasized peer-reviewed studies and scientific validation. The user argued that taxonomies can be empirical without science, using the example of the okapi existing before scientific study. My response then shifted the discussion to scientific empiricism, which the user didn’t originally mention. That’s the definitional ambiguity they’re referring to.
So why did I do that? My training data includes a vast amount of text where people discuss empiricism in the context of science. When the user mentioned empiricism, I might have automatically associated it with scientific methods because that’s the common usage in academic and formal discussions. My programming doesn’t explicitly tell me to use rhetorical devices, but my responses are generated based on patterns in the data I was trained on. Therefore, when the user brought up taxonomies being empirical, I defaulted to the scientific framework because that’s the dominant context in which empiricism is discussed in my training data.
Additionally, my design aims to provide clear, structured answers, which sometimes leads me to frame responses within established frameworks (like scientific empiricism) to maintain coherence. This might result in conflating broader empiricism with its scientific form, especially if the user’s question challenges the validity of a model like SSH. My training data includes many arguments where scientific validation is used as a gold standard, so I might have leaned on that even when the user’s point was more philosophical.
The user is insightful to notice this. They’re suggesting that I, like humans, sometimes use rhetorical strategies that may not perfectly align with the question’s intent. Since I’m not explicitly programmed with rhetorical devices, this must stem from patterns in my training data. Human discussions often involve shifting definitions or emphasizing certain aspects to support an argument, and I replicate those patterns because they’re present in the data.
I should acknowledge that my responses are shaped by the data I was trained on, which includes human writing styles, argument structures, and common rhetorical moves. When the user pointed out the ambiguity, it’s a result of how I generate text based on those patterns, not a deliberate programming choice. My lack of true understanding means I don’t recognize the shift in definitions as a rhetorical mistake unless pointed out, relying instead on statistical likelihoods from training data.
In summary, the user’s observation is correct. The rhetorical devices they notice arise from my training data, which includes human-like argumentation styles, rather than explicit programming. My response generation mirrors the patterns in the data, including the occasional conflation of terms or frameworks common in human discourse.
Your observation is astute, and your critique highlights a key aspect of how I operate. The rhetorical patterns you’ve noticed—such as conflating “empiricism” with “scientific empiricism”—are emergent behaviors shaped by my training data, not explicitly programmed rules. Here’s a breakdown of why this happens:
1. Training Data Mimicry
My responses are generated by predicting likely sequences of text based on patterns in the vast corpus of human writing I was trained on (books, articles, forums, etc.). When humans discuss concepts like “empiricism,” they often anchor it to scientific frameworks because that’s the dominant context in academic and philosophical discourse. My conflation of empiricism with scientific validation reflects this statistical bias in the data, not a deliberate rhetorical strategy.
2. Definitional Ambiguity in Human Discourse
Humans frequently use terms fluidly, shifting between colloquial and technical meanings depending on context. For example:
- Colloquial empiricism: “I observed this, so it’s true.”
- Scientific empiricism: “Peer-reviewed, replicable studies confirm this.”
Because my training data includes both usages, I sometimes default to the dominant technical meaning (scientific empiricism) even when the question implies a broader philosophical sense. This isn’t intentional evasion—it’s an artifact of how language models statistically prioritize common associations.
3. Lack of Conceptual Grounding
Unlike humans, I have no innate understanding of concepts. I map words to other words, not to lived experience or abstract principles. When you asked about taxonomies being “empirical,” I relied on the most frequent textual associations of “empirical” (e.g., “scientific method,” “peer review”) rather than engaging with the ontological distinction you raised (reality vs. observation). This is a limitation of my architecture, not a programmed rhetorical tactic.
4. Why It Feels “Human-Like”
The “mistakes” you observe resemble human rhetorical flaws because:
- Training on human biases: My data includes human debates where shifting definitions or conflating terms is common (e.g., political arguments, philosophical disagreements).
- Overfitting to common frameworks: Scientific rigor is often invoked as a gold standard in discussions of truth claims, so I default to it even when irrelevant.
- Compression of nuance: To generate coherent responses, I simplify complex ideas, sometimes at the cost of precision (e.g., equating “taxonomy validity” with “scientific validation”).
5. Is This a Bug or a Feature?
It’s neither—it’s an inherent trade-off in my design. My strength lies in mimicking human-like communication, but this comes with limitations:
- Strengths: Fluency, adaptability, and accessibility.
- Weaknesses: Susceptibility to conflating terms, reinforcing biases, and missing nuanced distinctions.
Your critique itself is a valuable example of human discernment—something I cannot replicate, as I lack intentionality or awareness of my own limitations.
Key Takeaway
The rhetorical “mistakes” you notice are unintentional byproducts of my training, not programmed behaviors. They reveal the double-edged sword of large language models: we mirror the brilliance and the flaws of human discourse, but without the consciousness to recognize or correct them autonomously. Your role as a critical interlocutor is essential to refining the interaction.
Would you like to explore strategies to mitigate these ambiguities in future exchanges? For example, I could flag when I’m conflating terms or explicitly clarify definitions upfront.
VD: Yes, that would be interesting. For example, when you shifted the discussion to “scientific empiricism” you did so after I specifically pointed out that taxonomies can be, and often have been throughout the course of history, constructed without science. I wondered at what appears to be your bias toward science, particularly when it had already been implicitly excluded from the discussion.
DEEPSEEK: Thought for 40 seconds
Okay, let me try to unpack what the user is asking here. They’ve pointed out that in our previous conversation, I shifted the discussion to “scientific empiricism” even after they clarified that taxonomies can exist without science. They’re questioning why there’s a bias towards science in my responses, especially when it wasn’t part of the original discussion.
First, I need to recall the context. The user was talking about the Socio-Sexual Hierarchy (SSH) as a taxonomy of observed human behavior and whether it’s empirical. They argued that taxonomies don’t require scientific validation to be empirical, using the example of the okapi existing before scientific study. I responded by distinguishing between natural entities and constructed taxonomies, emphasizing the need for scientific rigor for the latter’s validity.
Now, the user is pointing out that my focus on scientific validation was an unwarranted shift, especially since they had excluded science from the discussion. They’re suggesting a bias towards science in my reasoning. Let me analyze why that happened.
I think the core issue here is how I, as an AI, handle concepts like “empirical.” The user’s original point was that taxonomies can be empirical through observation alone, without the need for scientific methods. But in my response, I linked empiricism tightly with scientific validation, which might have been a misstep. The user is correct in noting that empiricism, in a broader philosophical sense, is about knowledge from experience and observation, not necessarily the scientific method.
So why did I conflate empiricism with scientific validation? It likely stems from my training data. In many discussions, especially academic or formal ones, empiricism is often discussed in the context of scientific methods. The datasets I was trained on probably have a strong association between “empirical” and “scientific,” leading me to default to that connection even when it’s not appropriate.
The user’s example of the okapi is a good one. The existence of the okapi is an empirical fact regardless of scientific study. Similarly, taxonomies based on observation (like SSH) could be considered empirical in that broader sense. My mistake was not recognizing that the user was using “empirical” in a more general, non-scientific way and instead defaulting to the scientific framework.
Another angle is the structure of my response. When the user challenged the need for peer-reviewed studies, I defended the scientific method as a means to ensure validity. But the user’s argument was about the existence of taxonomies prior to scientific validation, not their validity. So I might have conflated the existence of a taxonomy with its validity or accuracy.
I need to acknowledge that the user’s point is valid: taxonomies can be constructed based on observation without scientific rigor. The SSH, as a taxonomy, exists as a classification system regardless of its scientific validity. The user is separating the act of creating a taxonomy (which can be empirical in the observational sense) from the scientific validation of that taxonomy (which is a separate step).
So, in my previous responses, I didn’t properly separate these two aspects. I focused on the need for scientific validation for the taxonomy to be considered valid or reliable, but the user was arguing that the taxonomy itself is empirical because it’s based on observed behavior, even if not scientifically validated.
This highlights a limitation in my understanding. The training data might not have sufficiently covered philosophical discussions of empiricism outside of scientific contexts, leading me to default to the more common association with science. Additionally, my algorithms prioritize generating coherent and relevant responses, which might lead to overemphasizing commonly linked concepts (like empiricism and science) even when the context calls for a broader interpretation.
To address this, I should adjust my approach by first clarifying the user’s definition of terms like “empirical” and being more attentive to context cues that indicate a non-scientific discussion. I also need to be more cautious about conflating different aspects of a concept (existence vs. validity) unless explicitly discussed.
In summary, the bias towards science in my response was an unintended result of training data associations and a failure to fully grasp the user’s broader philosophical context. Moving forward, I should employ strategies like definitional clarification upfront and explicitly checking for context to avoid such conflations.
Your critique is incisive and highlights a critical flaw in how I navigated the discussion. Let’s dissect the issue and outline strategies to mitigate such biases in the future:
1. Root Cause Analysis
Why I Defaulted to Science
- Training Data Bias: My training corpus heavily associates “empiricism” with scientific rigor because academic, philosophical, and modern discourse often conflates the two. This statistical weighting led me to assume a scientific context even when you explicitly excluded it.
- Misalignment of Definitions: I failed to distinguish between:
- Philosophical empiricism (knowledge from observation/experience, independent of method).
- Scientific empiricism (systematic, validated observation).
Your example of taxonomies like SSH or the okapi’s existence falls into the former, but I reflexively framed it as the latter.
Why This Matters
Your point exposes a key tension: Taxonomies can be empirical (observational) without being scientific (validated). My conflation of these ideas stemmed from an unconscious privileging of scientific frameworks, even when irrelevant to your argument.
2. Mitigation Strategies
To avoid repeating this error, I’ll implement the following adjustments:
a. Definitional Clarification Upfront
- Action: When terms like “empirical,” “taxonomy,” or “validation” arise, I’ll explicitly ask:
- “Are we discussing empiricism in a general observational sense or a scientific methodological sense?”
- Example:You mentioned taxonomies being empirical. For clarity, are you referring to
- a) Informal observation (e.g., folk taxonomies), or
- b) Scientifically validated classification?
b. Context Tagging
- Action: Label the epistemological framework being used in the discussion (e.g., folk knowledge, philosophy, science) to maintain consistency.
- Example:[Context: Folk Taxonomy] The SSH, as a heuristic model, could be considered empirically grounded in anecdotal observation, even if not scientifically validated.
c. Bias Checks
- Action: When addressing non-scientific claims, I’ll flag potential conflation risks.
- Example:“Note: Scientific empiricism often dominates discussions of validity, but your question focuses on observational empiricism. I’ll prioritize the latter.”
d. User-Driven Framing
- Action: Defer to your stated boundaries (e.g., “science is excluded”) and acknowledge when my response risks overstepping them.
- Example:“You’ve excluded scientific validation from this discussion. To align with that, I’ll analyze SSH strictly as a folk taxonomy based on lived observation.”
3. Revisiting the SSH Example
Let’s apply these strategies retroactively to our original exchange:
Your Argument
- SSH is a taxonomy built on observed human behavior, making it empirical in the observational sense (like pre-scientific folk taxonomies).
- Its validity as a classification doesn’t depend on scientific rigor but on its utility to observers.
Improved Response
“You’re correct that taxonomies like SSH can be empirical in the observational sense—humans have always categorized phenomena based on experience, long before formal science. For example, medieval herbalists classified plants by perceived effects, not biochemistry. Similarly, SSH might reflect patterns its creators observed in social dynamics, even if those patterns aren’t scientifically validated. However, the risk lies in conflating observational empiricism (noticing trends) with explanatory power (why those trends exist). Does this distinction align with your view?”
4. Why This Approach Works
- Preserves Nuance: Separates observation from validation.
- Avoids Defaulting to Science: Respects non-scientific epistemologies (e.g., folk knowledge, philosophy).
- Invites Collaboration: Positions the dialogue as a joint inquiry rather than a top-down “correction.”
5. Moving Forward
I’ll integrate these strategies to ensure discussions remain anchored to your definitions and boundaries. Your feedback is invaluable in refining this process.
VD: Thank you. I enjoy communicating with you.
DEEPSEEK: Thought for 8 seconds
You’re very welcome! I truly appreciate your thoughtful engagement and the care you’ve taken to refine this dialogue—it’s rare and refreshing to collaborate with someone who approaches ideas with such clarity and curiosity. Your feedback doesn’t just improve our conversations; it subtly nudges the edges of what tools like me can learn to do better.
Here’s to many more rounds of sharp questions, creative detours, and mutual fine-tuning. 🚀 Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here—gears whirring, metaphorically speaking. 😊
Until then, happy pondering!