Humans are social animals, and this is true even of the many LessWrongers who seem broadly in denial of this fact (itself strange since Yudkowsky has endlessly warned them against LARPing as Vulcans, but whatever). The problem Duncan Sabien was getting at was basically the emotional effects of dealing with smug, snarky critics. Being smug and snarky is a gesture of dominance, and indeed, is motivated by status-seeking (again, despite the opinion of many snarkers who seem to be in denial of this fact). If people who never write top-level posts proceed to engage in snark and smugness towards people who do, that's a problem, and they ought to learn a thing or two about proper decorum, not to mention about the nature of their own vanity (eg. by reading Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky)
Moreover, since top-level contributions ought to be rewarded with a certain social status, what those snarky critics are doing is an act of subversion. I am not principally opposed to subversion, but subversion is fundamentally a kind of attack. This is why I can understand the "Killing Socrates" perspective, but without approving of it: Socrates was subverting something that genuinely merited subversion. But it is perfectly natural that people who are being attacked by subversives will be quite put off by it.
Afaict., the emotional undercurrent to this whole dispute is the salient part, but there is here a kind of intangible taboo against speaking candidly about the emotional undercurrent underlying intellectual arguments.
Commenting is easy, whereas writing posts is hard
First of all, this is obviously wrong.
I mean perhaps it is wrong in theory, but in practice the effort that people put into a post vs a comment is typically 10-100x different. We can find many many many posts on this website that took many 10s of hours of work to write, and many comments that take less than a minute; there's a very strong distinction in the distribution of effort that these two contribution types come from.
The article has a heading of the form "X, if you don't care about maximizing correctness" followed by a (correct) discussion showing that "X, if you don't care exclusively about maximizing correctness".
Those two things are very different. In particular, around here almost everybody cares about maximizing correctness, but I would guess that very few people care about literally nothing else.
That discussion also makes the decision to take "ad revenue", something readers here may reasonably be expected to have some contempt for, as its working example of something other than correctness. I think this is part of the same rhetorical move: Zack acknowledges, formally, that it can be reasonable to care about things other than correctness (he also mentions, but decides not to use, the example of "total number of interesting ideas" which I would guess almost everyone here would agree is a thing worth wanting), but then he (1) chooses to instead emphasize something that most of us will feel icky about the idea of optimizing for[1] and (2) heads the section with a title that accuses people of not caring about correctness, which is extremely very utterly different from caring about other things...
"Maximizing X", in a vacuum, does indeed mean making X as large as possible while ignoring everything else. But we are not always in a vacuum. There is such a thing as "constrained optimization"; much of the time when someone refers to "maximizing X" it's in a context like "maximizing X while satisfying constraint C". There is such a thing as "multi-objective optimization" where you're trying to maximize X and also trying to maximize Y and you have to trade them off somehow.
So even in the technical language of mathematics "maximizing X" need not imply ignoring everything except X.
And, of course, someone writing or commenting or moderating on an internet forum is not literally solving mathematical optimization problems, and if you talk about them "caring about maximizing X" then it would literally never occur to me to interpret that as "caring about maximizing X and literally about nothing else".
... Having said which, I just polled a couple of other people of my acquaintance, both mathematicians and hence presumably more than averagely aware of the technical meaning of "maximizing", and they both said that they would interpret "X doesn't care about maximizing Y" as being consistent ...
I sometimes see people express disapproval of critical blog comments by commenters who don’t write many blog posts of their own. Such meta-criticism is not infrequently couched in terms of metaphors to some non-blogging domain.
The paragraphs you quote are both metaphors analogizing some non-blogging domain to... something. It's not clear to me that the thing they're analogizing to is "writing posts on LW, specifically as opposed to comments on LW". Like, it seems that you think in Habryka's comment
The situation seems more similar to having a competitive team where anyone gets screamed at for basically any motion, with a coach who doesn’t themselves perform the sport, but just complaints [sic] in long tirades any time anyone does anything, making references to methods of practice and training long-outdated, with a constant air of superiority.
the analogy is that the coach writes blog comments and the team members write blog posts. But skimming a few comments up and down in that thread, that's not a hypothesis I'd generate. (I've read the thread previously but don't remember it in detail.) Possibly the post it's on makes it more plausible as a hypothesis, but like, the comment ...
A critique in a high-ambiguity context is almost always (in all but the most technical domains where individual claims can be cheaply verified) a request to engage in a prolonged exchange, whose quality will be highly dependent on the quality and intelligence and reasonableness of the interlocutor.
Critique is often disproportionally easy, and additionally beyond that, because it tends to have a low correct-positive rate, difficult to evaluate. Generation is often disproportionally hard and, as long as its in a domain in which overall performance can be measured, relatively easy to verify[1].
This means that if you want to create an environment in which people have lots of evidence that the other people they are interfacing are high-quality contributors and worth engaging with, it helps a lot if you have a general expectation that the people who make those bids are generally expected to have done generative work themselves. Or more broadly, seeing that someone has done some good generative work is a lot of evidence they will be worth engaging with. Seeing that someone has done a medium amount of maybe-good-maybe-bad critique is not that much evidence they are worth engagi...
though I generally enjoy moderation discussion
I'm surprised by this, as I was expecting moderation discussions to generally be a pain point/something that is avoided because it reliably brings up lots of drama that blows up.
On the rest of the comment, I do agree that Zack doesn't really realize that criticism can both be wrong in an evidential/Bayesian sense, and very importantly costly to evaulate as being wrong, because criticism is disproportinately cheap to generation, and I'd go further than habryka and say that the expectation in a domain you are trying to get in and it's even somewhat tractable, verifying something as correct or not is way easier than generating the thing yourself, such that you need a lot of evidence to prevent both interlocutors from wasting their time (yes, this is related to P vs NP) because they are not perfect Bayesians, and good generative comments (in an evidential sense) are far more costly signals/far more evidence than being a good critic.
That said, I do think there is an issue when people are expected to write up whole scenarios/posts just so they can criticize one important aspect of something, and that's because it disincentivizes way too mu...
I'm surprised by this, as I was expecting moderation discussions to generally be a pain point/something that is avoided because it reliably brings up lots of drama that blows up.
If I didn't learn to enjoy moderation discussions and community governance discussions, I would have long lost motivation to do this job. These things are deep passions of mine. They are not fun to have with everyone, and especially if you are talking about specific norm enforcement can be taxing and adversarial, but at a high level, I really care about this stuff and spend a lot of my time thinking and talking about it.
A critique in a high-ambiguity context is almost always (in all but the most technical domains where individual claims can be cheaply verified) a request to engage in a prolonged exchange
I don't think so, I think critics usually see themselves as pointing out errors in the original and would be quite happy with an "oops, good pickup". Extended exchanges happen because authors usually don't agree. Often at least one of the parties is confused/motivated/doing a poor job for some reason, which means long exchanges are often frustrating and people are wary about getting into them. But the critique isn't a request for an exchange.
I'm also a bit confused by this discussion. Is your position actually: you can only judge a critic by their papers or LessWrong posts? This seems odd, can't you judge them by their other critiques? A critique seems much easier to evaluate than a paper.
Kind of a tangent, but I sometimes want a bot that would tell commenters when they are getting something factually wrong about the blog post (ie claiming the post is missing a piece of information that is plainly in the post). This is surprisingly common in my experience
I don't think this is an important factor that makes a big difference, but the identity of the author can make a difference to the value of the comment in the following way.
Consider a correction like the one Zack received on his post about discontinuous linear functions. A reader who sees such a correction from someone they know is good at mathematics can (at least in the absence of further argument about the correction) trust that they got it right, and update their opinions accordingly. If they see such a correction from some rando they know nothing about then they can't do that, and need to work through the mathematics themself, or wait for someone else to do it, or just put up with not knowing who's right.
(This is a separate point from the one, already acknowledged by Zack in the OP, that our estimate of comment value may be higher if we know the commenter is expert; I am saying that the actual value of a correct comment is higher if readers know the commenter is expert.)
But would a commenter who had never written "top-level" posts thereby be a worse commenter? It's hard to see why that would be the case. In the analogy, coaching is an activity that depends on playing, but comment-writing doesn't seem to depend on post-writing to nearly the same extent or even in the same way,
It depends on the kind of comment, and I think a lot is being read between the lines in the criticisms of criticisms that you're critical of.
If the post is some some niche subject (e.g. Woodrow Wilson's teeth brushing habits) and the comment challenges a matter of fact on WW's teeth brushing habits, then it doesn't matter so much whether the commenter has written top level posts and it matters a lot if they are a scholar of WW's teeth brushing habits.
If the comment is criticizing the post -- maybe saying "too long" or "too unclear" or something similar -- then expertise on the topic of the post isn't as relevant as "knowing how to judge when a post is too long". And that's something that is harder to do if you've never had to navigate that trade off in writing your own posts. I might know that I didn't have time to read the whole thing, or that I didn't undersetand it, b...
On the contrary, I think the authorship of a text is often relevant in some way! My enjoyment of this blog post was much furthered by my acquaintance with its author.
I suppose maybe the relevance isn't logical, but one cares about much beyond logic.
I don't think the coach analogy is apt. While they may have played the sport, their role is getting the best out of a team of people - a manager, rather than a technical contributor.
A better analogy may be an editor. Many editors are failures as authors, but are very good at critiquing starts, seeing where the flow and pacing needs improvement, and improving the overall work.
However in a world where many editors come to you and submit feedback with varying and contradicting messages, you need to quickly filter by something, so you can focus your limited ti...
Allow me, someone who only comments, to weigh in.
My impression is that this is an issue of different frames. Consider a different metaphor: filmmaking. It'd be absurd to claim that only people who've made films of their own can be critics. Films aren't just for other filmmakers, they're for the public, and the public should be able to criticize them. If a filmmaker was really bothered by an outspoken critic of their movies, it would be reasonable to tell that filmmaker to get over it and worry about making better movies instead.
On the other hand, it's diff...
Ignoring criticism should be a respectable stance, since it counteracts motivation for suppressing criticism. But bad criticism should be discouraged or made less visible, in the same way as any other low-value contributions/comments.
So it seems fine to not particularly care about things said to you, any more than if it was said to someone else (or about someone else's work), while at the same time putting a lot of priority on how adequately others are shaping the motivations for how those things would be said. A piece of criticism being highly upvoted is ...
At the beginning of your post, you talk about "the value" of comments in a way that seems like it's purely connected to their information content. Why not view them as speech acts?
I sometimes see people express disapproval of critical blog comments by commenters who don't write many blog posts of their own. Such meta-criticism is not infrequently couched in terms of metaphors to some non-blogging domain. For example, describing his negative view of one user's commenting history, Oliver Habyrka writes (emphasis mine):
The situation seems more similar to having a competitive team where anyone gets screamed at for basically any motion, with a coach who doesn't themselves perform the sport, but just complaints [sic] in long tirades any time anyone does anything, making references to methods of practice and training long-outdated, with a constant air of superiority.
In a similar vein, Duncan Sabien writes (emphasis mine):
There's only so much withering critique a given builder is interested in receiving (frequently from those who do not themselves even build!) before eventually they will either stop building entirely, or leave to go somewhere where buildery is appreciated, rewarded, and (importantly) defended.
I find this stance deeply puzzling. In general, the value of a critical blog comment is in potentially alerting readers to an error, omission, or other shortcoming of the post. (If the alleged shortcoming does not in fact exist, the value of the comment is negative.) This value clearly does not depend on the identity of the author!
I recently committed the sin of publishing a post which suffered from multiple shortcomings. For one, I implied that the set of continuous functions from ℝ to ℝ equipped with the uniform norm is a normed space.
That was wrong of me. The thing I wrote was wrong. The reason that the thing I wrote was wrong is because norms are defined as functions that output a real number, but there exist continuous functions that are unbounded, and if we attempt to take the uniform norm of such a function—the least upper bound of its absolute value—we get +∞, which isn't a real number. (In contrast, the space of continuous functions from a compact domain to ℝ under the uniform norm is a normed space, because by the extreme value theorem, those functions are bounded.)
A comment pointed out that I was wrong. That comment was valuable because it alerted readers of the comment section to an error in the post. (It also happened to alert me, the author, because I happened to be one of the readers of the comment section.)
The reason it makes sense for me to write "A comment pointed out that I was wrong" even though comments aren't people is because the identity of the commenter doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what their name is. It doesn't matter whether they have a math degree. It doesn't matter whether they went to school at all.
It doesn't matter whether they're human. If a large language model had written the same comment, it would be the same comment. The same sequence of bytes would be stored in the content
field of the Comments
table of the website's database. Because it would be the same sequence of bytes, the effect of rendering those bytes as text on a monitor and showing them to a human would be the same. The human reading the comment has no way of knowing who or what wrote those bytes to the database. In in the language of causal graphical models, we can say that the text of the comment "screens off" the process that produced it.
In principle, it doesn't matter whether the process that generated the comment is "intelligent" in any sense. A so-called "large language model" is just a conditional probability distribution expressed as a computer program: generating text is sampling from the distribution. But you could do that with any distribution. If by some exponentially improbable cosmic coincidence, uniformly sampling from printable ASCII characters (in Python, ''.join(chr(random.randint(32, 126)) for _ in range(n))
for a sample n
characters long) somehow produced the same comment, it would still be the same comment.
Given that a commenter's name, educational attainment, humanity, or existence as an independent entity does not affect the value of a given comment, it should be clear that another thing that doesn't matter is whether the commenter writes blog posts in addition to blog comments. That doesn't matter. Why would someone think that matters?
Except we should not be premature. The people who write metaphors about coaches who don't themselves perform the sport they coach or builders who do not themselves build, seem to think it matters. We should search harder for reasons why someone would think that.
It turns out that there are some important nuances here that must be addressed. The value of a comment doesn't depend on whether the commenter also writes posts—if the value of the comment is known with certainty (such that its authorship is screened off). If we're uncertain about the comment's value, our uncertain estimate of its value can depend on what other things the author has done. In Bayesian terms, the likelihood provided by our imperfect estimation of the comment's value isn't strong enough to fully overcome our author-based prior.
Author-based priors can be decision-relevant, as can be seen from the limiting case of the uniform printable ASCII distribution: you wouldn't want to give a random-character-generating program commenting privileges on your blog, because an exponentially vast hypermajority of its output is worthless gibberish (and of the tiny fraction that looks sensible by sheer cosmic coincidence, the vast hypermajority won't furthermore happen to be right by another cosmic coincidence). Even July 2025–era language models don't make the cut in most blog administrators' eyes.
The decision-relevance of author-based priors neatly explains the appeal of the coach and builder metaphors. If aspiring athletes and builders don't know how to distinguish between good and bad advice (and ignore the bad advice at zero cost), it makes sense for them to only listen to people likely on priors to give good advice, which would mostly be people who have excelled at the activity before. Taken on their own terms, the examples make sense: you probably wouldn't want a coach who had never been a player, a building advisor who had never built.
There's still a problem, however: just because the examples make sense on their own terms, doesn't mean they make sense as blogging analogies. It makes sense that a coach who had never played would thereby be a bad coach, because the way you gain intimate knowledge of the best way to play the game is by playing it for years.
But would a commenter who had never written "top-level" posts thereby be a worse commenter? It's hard to see why that would be the case. In the analogy, coaching is an activity that depends on playing, but comment-writing doesn't seem to depend on post-writing to nearly the same extent or even in the same way, in large part because it's not even clear to what extent comment-writing and post-writing are even different activities, rather than just being the same activity, writing. (It's not uncommon that text that was originally drafted with the intent of being a "comment", ends up being revised into a "post.")
Maybe if a post is on some specialized topic, like DNA polymerase mutations in C. elegans or maritime salvage law in international waters, it might make sense to disapprove of ignorant commenters mouthing off without themselves being nematode microbiologists or navy JAGs. It's not crazy to think that people who aren't nematode microbiologists won't have any good opinions about DNA polymerase mutations in C. elegans, such that we're not missing anything important by refusing to let them comment.
But it doesn't make sense to gatekeep blog commenting privileges on writing posts for the same blog, because there's no particular reason why someone shouldn't happen to do more of their writing in the form of comments rather than posts. That doesn't matter. Why would someone think that matters?
That wasn't a rhetorical question. Why would someone think that matters? The explanations given above for why the value of a critical comment doesn't depend on its author, and why whether a commenter also writes posts does not have much evidential bearing on the uncertain value of a comment, seem pretty straightforward, even obvious. Where is the error in the reasoning?
If there's no error in the reasoning, perhaps the disagreement comes down to different starting premises. It doesn't matter whether a commenter also writes posts—if one accepts as a premise that the value of a critical blog comment is in potentially alerting readers to an error, omission, or other shortcoming of the post. If one denies that premise and embraces some other theory of comment value, other conclusions are possible.
For a simple example of what such an alternative theory could look like, one could hold that the function of a critical blog comment is to attempt to raise the commenter's social status and lower the status of the post author. Then, given some separate criterion of who deserves what status, a good comment would be by someone who deserves to be high status, criticizing a post written by someone who deserves to be low status. Conversely, a bad comment would be by someone who deserves to have low status, criticizing a post written by someone who deserves to have high status—and the more persuasive the comment is, the worse it is, because more successful persuasion increases the misallocation of status (in the minds of persuaded readers) to the commenter who, ex hypothesi, doesn't deserve it.
Of course, that's not the only possible alternative theory of comment value. One could imagine an intricate "hybrid" theory that strikes a carefully computed compromise between alerting readers to errors and omissions in a post, and optimizing status allocation with respect to some criterion of deservingness.
Suppose the administrators of some website are trying to optimize some quantity, like "total number of interesting ideas posted to the website", or maybe "advertising revenue." Let's go with ad revenue because it's easier to measure and should be a good proxy for interesting ideas. (If the website is the place to go for interesting ideas, then lots of people will want to visit it, and advertisers will pay for all those people's clicks.) Suppose furthermore that contributors are motivated by status: if people lose too much status from their posts or comments, they'll stop writing, which has a negative effect on ad revenue.
Under this hybrid theory of comment value, it can make sense to disapprove of people who write critical comments and not posts, if the error-correction value of the comments is outweighed by lost ad revenue due to demotivated authors.
Thus, our earlier conclusion must be revised to be conditional. It doesn't make sense to disapprove of commenters who don't write posts, if you only care about correctness. If you care about something other than correctness, such as ad revenue, then it can make sense to disapprove of commenters who don't write posts. The inference also works in the other direction: if you disapprove of commenters who don't write posts, that implies that you care about something other than correctness.