Re "they should also pop out in a sane person's mind within like 15 seconds of actually hearing that statement" I agree with that in the abstract; few people will say that a state of high physiological alertness/vigilance is Actually A Good Idea to cultivate for threats/risks not usefully countered by the effects of high physiological alertness.
Being able to reason about that in the abstract doesn't necessarily transfer to actually stopping doing that. Like personally, I feel like being told something along the line of "you're working yourself up into a counterproductive state of high physiological alertness about the risks of [risk] and counterproductively countering that with incredibly abstract thought disconnected from useful action" is not something I am very good at hearing from most people when I am in that sort of extraordinarily afraid state. It can really feel like someone wants to manipulate me into thinking that [risk] is not a big deal, or discourage me from doing anything about [risk], or that they're seeking to make me more vulnerable to [risk]. These days this is rarely the case; but the heuristic still sticks around. Maybe I should find its commanding officer so it can be told by someone it trusts that it's okay to stand down...
With the military analogy; it's like you'd been asked to keep an eye out for a potential threat, and your commanding officer tells you on the radio to get on REDCON 1. Later on you hear an unfamiliar voice on the radio which doesn't authenticate itself, and it keeps telling you that your heightened alertness is actually counterproductive and that you should stand down.
Would you stand down? No, you'd be incredibly suspicious! Interfering with the enemy's communication is carte blanche in war. Are there situations where you would indeed obey the order from the unfamiliar voice? Perhaps! Maybe your commanding officer's vehicle got destroyed, or more prosaically, maybe his radio died. But it would have to be in a situation where you're confident it represents legitimate military authority. It would be a high bar to clear, since if you do stand down and it was an enemy ruse, you're in a very bad situation regardless if you get captured by the enemy or if you get court-martialed for disobeying orders. If it seems like standing down makes zero tactical/strategic sense, your threshold would be even higher! In the extreme, nothing short of your commanding officer showing up in person would be enough.
All of this is totally consistent with the quoted section in OP that mentions "Goals and motivational weightings change", "Information-gathering programs are redirected", "Conceptual frames shift", etc. The high physiological alertness program has to be a bit sticky, otherwise a predator stalking you could turn it off by sitting down and you'd be like "oh, I guess I'm not in danger anymore". If you've been successfully tricked by a predator into thinking that it broke off the hunt when it really was finding a better position to attack you from, the program's gonna be a bit stickier, since its job is to keep you from becoming food.
To get away from the analogies, I really appreciate this piece and how it was written. I specifically appreciate it because it doesn't feel like it is an attempt to make me more vulnerable to something bad. Also I think it might have helped me get a bit of a felt sense shift.
There is an idea that I’ve sometimes heard around rationalist and EA circles, that goes something like “you shouldn’t ever feel safe, because nobody is actually ever safe”. I think there are at least two major variations of this:
I’m going to argue against both of these. If you already feel like both of these are obviously wrong, you might not need the rest of this post.
Note that I only intend to dispute the intellectual argument that these are making. It’s possible to accept on an intellectual level that it would make sense to feel safe most of the time, but still not feel safe. That kind of emotional programming requires different kinds of tools to deal with. I’m mostly intending to say that if you feel safe, you don’t need to feel bad about that. You don’t need to make yourself feel unsafe; for most people, it’s perfectly rational to feel safe.
I do expect some of the potential readers of this post to live in a very unsafe environment - e.g. parts of current-day Ukraine, or if they live together with someone abusive - where they are actually in constant danger. For them, it may make sense to feel unsafe all the time. (If you are one of them, I genuinely hope things get better for you soon.) But these are clearly situations where something has gone badly wrong; the feeling that one has in those situations shouldn’t be something that one was actively striving for. I think that any reader who doesn’t live in an actively horrendous situation would do better to feel safe most of the time. (Short timelines don't count as a horrendous situation, for reasons that I'll get into.)
As I interpret it, the core logic in both of the “you shouldn’t ever feel safe” claims goes as follows:
One thing that you might notice from looking at this argument is that one could easily construct an exactly opposite one as well.
That probably looks obviously fallacious - just because things can go well, doesn’t mean that it would be warranted to always feel safe. But why then would it be warranted to feel unsafe in the case where things just can go badly?
To help clarify our thinking, let's take a moment to look at how the US military orients to the question of being safe or not. More specifically, to the question of whether a given military unit is reasonably safe or whether it should prepare for an imminent battle.
Readiness Condition levels are a series of standardized levels that a unit’s commander uses to adjust the unit’s readiness to move and fight. Here’s an abridged summary of them:
Now, why are all units not always kept on REDCON-1, or at least on REDCON-2? After all, there could always be an unexpected need for the units to mobilize or fight on immediate notice. Even units based on the US mainland might be called in to deal with a terrorist attack (as happened on 9/11) or natural disaster at any time.
The obvious answer is that a higher REDCON burns resources and makes the unit incapable of doing the tasks that it would carry out at lower readiness levels. The soldiers get tired, running the engines consumes fuel, soldiers who would be at observation posts aren’t carrying out observations, and work and rest tasks aren’t being carried out.
Even though the military realizes that the unit could be needed at any time, setting their readiness condition isn’t just a question of whether it’s possible for the unit to be needed on short notice. It’s also a question of whether that’s likely enough to make the cost of maintaining a high state of readiness worth it in expectation.
I think that it makes sense for a individual person to also orient to the question of being safe or unsafe in a similar way. If someone claims that you shouldn’t ever feel safe, they are presumably saying that because they expect the feeling to translate to actions. They are saying that you should act as if you weren’t safe. But there is an opportunity cost to that; frequently thinking about possible threats burns mental cycles that could be used on something else, it makes it harder to rest and relax, and it biases the kind of information that you pay attention to.
In fact, I’m going to take the analogy a step further. I think that a person’s sense of (un)safety is in fact their subjective experience of an internal variable that tracks something analogous to the readiness condition level of that person’s body and brain.
This quote from Cosmides & Tooby (2000) describes some of the effects they suggest may be triggered when a person is alone at night and feels a fear of being stalked; or in this analogy, the kinds of responses that the body and brain associate when being at their equivalent of REDCON 1 or 2:
From this list, it’s pretty clear that it would be a bad idea to maintain this state all the time. Even if there were circumstances where it was theoretically possible for a person to be stalked, maintaining a constant state of fear would prevent them from digesting their food, relaxing, or for that matter thinking about anything other than how to get to safety.
And if everywhere was classified as an unsafe state (as one does if they say you should never feel safe), then the priority of “get somewhere safe” couldn’t do anything useful. The person would just be stuck in a constant anxiety loop that necessitated constant running or fighting but never recognized a state where those responses could be even temporarily wounded down.
In a more recent paper, Levy & Shiller (2020) discuss our subjective experience of threat as being linked to a series of unconscious computations about the expected distance to physical danger, such as a predator. They describe a series of threat levels that one could see as being analogous to the readiness conditions of a military unit (extra paragraph breaks and bolding of the different stages added):
If this model is right, it then implies that “feeling safe” does not imply an assessment of zero probability of threat. Feeling safe is the subjective experience of the brain assigning a low probability to a threat, and emphasizing the kinds of behavioral and biological priorities that make the best use of a low-threat situation.
Meanwhile, “feeling unsafe” implies an assessed level of at least ‘pre-encounter threat’, meaning at least a moderate probability of an immediate physical threat. “Moderate” in this context is a bit of a fuzzy term, given that even something like a 1% probability of there being a predator around could plausibly make it justified to maintain this level of readiness.
Still, a 99+% probability of being safe isn’t that high of a bar; extreme probabilities are common. If a person’s risk of being physically attacked was 1% per day, they would have a 97% chance of being attacked within a year. Some of the people reading this post may live in a location where their risk of being assaulted is around that order of magnitude, but if they aren’t, then constantly feeling unsafe implies that their subconscious isn’t calculating the probabilities correctly. (Probably warranting a diagnosis of an anxiety disorder.)
There is also the consideration that feeling unsafe doesn’t only imply a moderate probability of something bad happening; it implies a classification of the bad thing as “the kind of a thing that this type of a readiness response is useful for dealing with”. To extend the analogy to the military’s readiness levels, having your weapons manned and being ready to fight isn’t very useful if the threat being faced is an infectious disease, or Congress deliberating a funding cut that involves the unit in question being decommissioned.
Likewise, it isn’t very useful to activate behavioral responses that are evolved for the purpose of getting to safety from an imminent threat, if the threat involves unaligned AI possibly being developed within the next decade or so. There isn’t anywhere that you could run away to, nor a concrete enemy you could defeat, so this response would be stuck trying to do an impossible task. The mindset necessary for solving the problem is clear and calm thinking, and an ability to relax and get rest as well. So this is an instance of a situation where it might be warranted to feel safe even if you intellectually acknowledge that you might not be safe.
So to recap, I think that “you should never feel safe” is an incorrect argument for several reasons:
If you are somewhere where there is an actual tangible threat against you - then yes, feel unsafe! If you are approached by someone you know to be violent or abusive, or if you are out on a walk and you think that you might actually be stalked - then yes, feeling unsafe may very well be the right response.
But if those criteria aren’t met, you are probably better off feeling safe, and harnessing the resources that that state grants you.
Malcolm Ocean describes a form of this experience: