Why We're Probably Real, or at Least Simulated

     I have always been interested in games and simulations. Most recently I've been playing around with developing a set of self-imposed rules to simulate the growth of villages and cities in Minecraft, but I've been at it since before I got that Apple ][ for my sixteenth birthday. Naturally, when I first encountered Conway's Game of Life, I was intrigued with the possibility that our universe itself might be a vast cellular automata system, in which the various subatomic particles were essentially multidimensional equivalents of Life's glider guns and other emergent phenomena.
     Well, last week, a friend forwarded me a link to this article on the question of whether or not we're living in a big computer simulation of reality, and ways we might be able to detect if this was so, essentially by looking for artifacts of the limitations of whatever computing device is running the simulation.
      I haven't read the original academic sources, and most of the math would probably be over my head anyway, but my impression is that what they're trying to do is similar to something I described once in an article about conducting science in a roleplaying game. Imagine you are a character in a game, where certain aspects of the gameworld are simulated on a roll of two six-sided dice. If you kept careful records of these sorts of events, over time you might find that their probabilities tended to converge towards certain multiples of 1/36, those corresponding to the odds of a given sum. You might find this an odd coincidence, and while you might not immediately conclude that it was actually a literal roll of the dice that determined the outcomes in your world, it would be evidence for some such explanation. Maybe God really does play dice with the universe.

     So it seems to me like a splendid idea for scientists to look for telltale patterns of computational artifacts in our universe, and it would certainly be a momentous discovery to find one. Still, it seems to me it would be amazingly difficult to imagine just what sort of a machine could even be running this simulation, much less make meaningful guesses as what kind of computational artifacts to look for. It's probably running on something a little more powerful than my old Apple ][, but not necessarily. See, in principle, any Turing machine could run any computable simulation, given sufficient time and memory. Sure, it would take a long time, but not for us inside the simulation. We would have no way to measure the passage of time between "frames" of the movie, trapped as we are within those frames. Looking at the text on this page now, there is no way for you to tell how many seconds, hours or days passed between my typing the letters of this word.

     But then, why does it actually need to be computed in the first place? We often speak of mathematical facts as having a kind of independent existence, regardless of whether or not any human happens to know them. For example, there is a fact of the matter as to what the googolth digit of pi is, even though no one is ever likely to calculate it.
     Now consider the universe of a computer simulation. It, like pi, is really just a vast computational problem. All of the macroscopic phenomena we might experience within it (including the capacity to experience and reflect on phenomena) would be simply emergent properties, like the glider guns and more complex structures of Life, possibly detectable to someone watching the monitor, so to speak, but possibly just lost in the noise, but nonetheless intrinsically present in the data itself.
     So whether or not our universe simulation is ever actually executed, there still would be a fact of the matter as to what you're thinking about right now, locked within the complete mathematical description of this universe. So again, why even postulate some computer simulation, when we could simply be an emergent property of an unimaginably vast number? That may be all the existence we have or need. We may have no more "real" solid existence than the googolth digit of pi.

     I believe there is an answer. For one thing, if we are just numbers, then we are surely not alone. All mathematically possible universes share the same degree of existence. Of course, this means that infinitely many parallel universes "exist", but infinitely many more chaotic messes of data with no intelligible emergent properties to speak of. The fact that we find ourselves in one of the vanishingly small fraction of number sets that includes the emergent property of consciousness is kind of astonishing, but it shouldn't be, thanks to the anthropic principle; while it's improbable that a universe picked at random will include someone wondering about the improbability of consciousness is, it's a certainty that someone wondering about the improbability of consciousness will be in such a universe.
     But there are infinitely many possible wondering consciousnesses, and like the infinitely many universes, most of them may be pretty much random. That is, the subjective experience of a consciousness may just be there, but with little more coherence than that. Most will be nothing like the subjective experience we have here, of a universe that appears to follow coherent laws of physics, where principles of causality seem to hold sway, where there may be mysteries and apparent paradoxes but they fairly consistently tend to be resolved within the rules.
     So consider: of all the infinitely many crazy chaotic universes in which conscious could be randomly encoded, we seem to be in one where there are impressively consistent regularities. The odds of being in such a universe are submicroscopically tiny, and yet here we are. The anthropic principle doesn't account for why these regularities should exist wherever we find ourselves. So it's reasonable to look or some sort of explanation for the apparent order we perceive in our universe.
     One such explanation is that these emergent properties of planets, solar systems, trees and consciousness really do need to be instantiated in some way in order to become real. In other words, there has to be some sort of physical, mechanical encoding of the data, which by obeying its mechanical or computational rules, generates an orderliness to the pattern.

     And that's why I'm satisfied that we must either be in a "real" universe, or at least running as an emergent property of a simulation on a machine in some "real" universe. Not that anyone was really worrying too much about whether or not we were just a matrix of numbers.

The Poor Dears

     Like many, I'd been troubled of late by the coverage of the results of the Steubenville rape trial, and how so much is being said about how terrible it is that these boys lives will be ruined, that their promising careers and futures will suffer, and so on and so on. The Poor Dears.
     Yet at the same time, some kind of warning bell was going off in my head. There seemed to me something not quite right about the indignation I and so many others felt. Some nagging logical or moral inconsistency, a sense that we're missing something valuable here.

     At last, after much thought, I think I have it. We're angry, obviously, that there seems to be so much sympathy for the Poor Dears after they did something so despicable. And naturally we would prefer to see that attention lavished on their victim instead. Why should we care at all that these thugs are going to suffer as a result of their actions?
     Well, actually, that's kind of the point. Punishment for a crime doesn't make everything all right or restore the karmic balance. It's not supposed to. It's supposed to be society's statement of denunciation of the crime, and hopefully it will deter others from carrying out similar acts. For punishment to perform that function, it's got to be widely known among potential offenders that such punishment is a likely consequence of similar wrongdoing.

     Yes, these boys are going to suffer. Their promising futures are now in jeopardy. Their careers will be affected, they'll be registered as sex offenders, they'll carry this for the rest of their lives. And yes, it's a terrible thing for anyone to have to face. None of us should view this waste of potential as anything other than tragic. It's something that should never have to happen to anyone, and if the correspondents reporting on the trial are dwelling on how terrible it is that this is happening, well, yeah. It is terrible. It's terrible in exactly the same way that it's terrible when someone drives drunk, goes off the road and suffers a life-changing injury. The fact that they brought it upon themselves doesn't make it any less tragic.
     So I say to the press, by all means, talk about the wasted potential and what a shame it is that these poor dears have to go to jail. Let's all shed a tear for them. I'm absolutely serious about that. It really is sad. And I want people to know how sad it is and what a terrible thing it is for fine young men full of promise (or ignorant self-absorbed bullies, or anyone, even) to go to such waste.
     Why? Well, naturally I'd prefer for everyone to be more concerned about the actual victim, and decent people are, of course, but here's the thing: it's not decent people who need to hear the message.
     It's not decent people who rape girls (no matter how drunk), and boast about it. It's not decent people who stand by and laugh (or just remain uncomfortably but loyally silent) as it happens. These people clearly don't give a damn about ruining the lives of their victims, and so we're fighting an uphill battle trying to rely on their general sense of empathy. So let's grab ahold of where they do have some empathy: for the poor dears who tragically must live with the consequences of their own actions.
     It is a tragedy that they're going to suffer as a result of their criminal conviction, and worst of all, it's a completely avoidable tragedy. Want to avoid the shame and misery of a conviction for rape? Don't rape someone. Want to spare your beloved athletes the shame and misery of a conviction for rape? Step in and stop them before they rape someone. Friends don't let friends rape.

Beware the Ick Factor: How to Think the Unthinkable

     Saying "fire" won't burn your mouth. Saying "water" won't drown you.

(Zen koan)

     There's a strong connection between the psychologies of disgust and morality. We have a powerful desire to distance ourselves from things we see as disgusting, and one of the instinctive, hardwired principles of disgust is that it's contagious: you get cooties by touching something with cooties. (I've known people who are completely grossed out at the thought of wiping a runny nose with toilet paper instead of facial tissue, even though it's a fresh roll right out of the plastic wrapping, because of the mere fact that it's even just associated with the other end of the digestive tract.) For most of us, the only conceivable reason for handling something icky is to remove it, to get rid of it. And this carries over to ideas we find disgustingly immoral; some of us refuse to even think about certain subjects except for the purpose of rejecting them. By extension, anyone who does suffer to contemplate these things is viewed in the same way we would view someone who voluntarily picks up a turd with his bare hands, squeezes it gently to evaluate the texture, maybe takes a sniff to get an idea of the diet of its owner: sick, sick, SICK!

     But in both philosophy and in law, it's important to be able to suppress one's Ick Factor. One must be prepared to think objectively and dispassionately about even things one might find horrifically evil or disgusting or both. And in academe, the community where such thoughts are shared, discussed and evaluated, people need to be willing to speak and listen about such things, without letting their natural sense of disgust shut down critical thought. Suppressing one's Ick Factor does not mean that one isn't disgusted or that one accepts or endorses the subject as perfectly okay; it just means one is able to set aside one's revulsion in order to think about it rationally.

     Now, for triggering the Ick Factor, there is just about nothing that compares to child pornography, which produces a very strong revulsion on both the visceral and the moral levels. Really, I have a hard time imagining of anything that could more effectively set off the cognitive stink bombs, and I have made a lifetime habit of trying to contemplating any concept I become aware of, however disgusting or uncomfortable. This is the most universally reviled and inflammatory topic I've found, and the reaction to University of Calgary political science professor Tom Flanagan's recent remarks on the subject are a splendid demonstration of this. Flanagan has lost his TV pundit gig with CBC, the political parties he's supported are racing to distance themselves from him (he had been an advisor to Prime Minister Harper), and his retirement has just been announced from the University.

     Readers of this blog will perhaps not be surprised to learn that defending a staunch conservative carries with it a certain Ick Factor for me, but here goes.

     I want to talk first about a general libertarian principle in our political tradition, one that in the abstract is (I hope) fairly uncontroversial: People should be free to do whatever they wish, so long as it doesn't hurt others. While we might need to be a little more specific about exactly what we mean by hurting others, I don't think there are a lot of people reading this who will disagree with the basic idea, so long as we're speaking in the abstract and don't consider specifics that might activate the Ick Factor. 

     Still speaking in the abstract, most of us would agree that applying this libertarian principle will often require people to suppress their Ick Factors. For example, although I happen to find mushrooms disgusting, my own personal Ick Factor over eating them is not a justification for me and like-minded mycophobes to enact legislation banning other people from enjoying them, even if we manage to form a majority. It's just not consistent with the principle for us to impose our Ick Factors on others.

     Professor Flanagan's remarks about child pornography were a specific application of this principle. He wasn't saying that child pornography itself is okay, and in fact he took some pains to clarify that he condemns the production of it. What I understand him to be saying is the much more narrow claim that viewing child pornography, all by itself, does no harm to other people.

     I can already hear you shouting back, "But it does harm people!" and yes, of course, there's a great deal of harm involved. But let's stop and neutralize our Ick Factors for a moment: are we saying it does harm because we're clear on the nature of the harm and how it necessarily follows, or are we instinctively trying to resist mentally handling something in a way that doesn't involve pitching it immediately into the oubliette and washing our hands? So let's look at the two main ways in which the act of viewing child porn produces harm.

     First, it's said that the act of viewing this material creates a market for it, thus encouraging the production of more. That's almost true; actually, buying this material creates a market for it, and I'm absolutely in favour of criminalizing the trafficking in child pornography for precisely this reason. Providing money or support for the commission of a crime is and ought to be a crime itself. But we're talking more narrowly about just the act of viewing, and it's not at all clear that by itself, a person's viewing images of an event will encourage others to stage more such events. Indeed, the possibility that it will be viewed by certain parties (law enforcement, for example) almost certainly discourages production. 

     Second, there is the idea that viewing child pornography normalizes it for the viewer, making it more likely that the viewer will eventually act upon desires that might otherwise be recognized as wrong and thus kept in check by conscience or propriety. If this is true, that might be a valid basis for the claim that viewing such material does harm, depending on how strong the causal link was, but it's not an easy thing to establish. Correlation is not causation, and so on. Personally, I'm very skeptical, just based on how many murders I've seen on TV and in movies without ever coming to think that killing people is an acceptable means of dispute resolution, but maybe it's different for child pornography. 

     I'm not saying that the mere act of viewing child pornography absolutely doesn't do harm, because I really don't know enough about it to make such a claim with certainty, and in any case that's not the point I'm trying to make, which is this: Be aware of the Ick Factor, and when it might be interfering with rational thought. Saying "fire" won't burn your mouth, saying "water" won't drown you, and thinking rationally about abhorrent things won't make you abhorrent. 

A Paradox: Labour is Undervalued Because it is Overvalued

     Sometimes, paradoxically, it turns out that a problem is almost exactly the opposite of what we think it is. I've been thinking about this particular issue for a long time (and blogged about it just a year ago), but just this morning the counterintuitive insight hit me: Labour is undervalued because it is overvalued.

     First, that it's undervalued. That's not really a new idea, of course, and Karl Marx made much of it in his analysis. In the last thirty years or so, the problem has become worse, as income inequality has expanded. Wages have barely kept pace with inflation, despite enormous growth in the economy and productivity; almost all of the increase has gone to a smaller and smaller portion of the population (the "1%", as the Occupy protests put it). So maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that the value of labour has dropped so much as the value of other things has risen. In any event, the net result is the same: it's harder and harder to get rich by wages alone. To become upwardly mobile now demands some kind of investment, playing the markets, and so on.
     (Well, but does that mean labour is undervalued? Maybe labour just isn't worth very much now, given that we have so much technology that simply reduces demand for human effort. Maybe that's really just what it's worth. Maybe, but I'm not really going to argue that point, except to say that if someone can work a 60 hour week and still not make enough to prosper, then maybe we should ditch the rhetoric about poor people being "lazy".)

     Second, that it's overvalued. I'm going to argue that it's overvalued because we think it is the only thing of value most people have to offer. That is, we value it more than the other things they have, which we treat as valueless. What other things do they have? Well, that's just the problem: we think they have nothing. We don't recognize the property claims that each of us morally has to assets we've traditionally ignored as unowned externalities.
     Here's just one example: the Atmosphere. We all depend absolutely on it for the oxygen we breathe and use to burn other fuels, as well as to carry away the waste gases we produce. We use it to regulate temperature, and it carries precipitation to our crops. It shields us from space debris, and from harmful radiation from the Sun and other sources.
     Now, no one has claimed the Atmosphere as property, because there's no meaningful way to exclude people from using it. We colloquially say that it belongs to all of us, but in practical terms, we act as if it belongs to no one. But what if it DID belong to all of us? What if each of us was the owner of a single share (of about 7 billion issued) of Atmosphere Corporation, which managed the use of the resource on our behalf?
     There are limits to how much use we can safely extract from the atmosphere over any fixed amount of time, after all. It naturally processes a certain amount of pollution, but it takes time, and if you release too much pollution all at once, everyone else has to breathe it. So responsible management of the resource would involve recognizing just how much pollution-processing capacity there is in a given day or month or year, and selling that capacity at market rates. Some of the revenue from the operation of the Atmosphere utility would, of course, be reinvested in keeping the thing running smoothly, but profits could be distributed as dividends to the shareholders.
     My point here is that each of us has a moral right to a share of ownership in heretofore "unowned" valuable assets, the atmosphere being just a convenient example.  But at present, we do not recognize these assets as having value, and so the only thing of value we recognize most people as owning is their labour. Hence, we overvalue labour relative to all these other assets that people own but cannot realize value from.

     This means that people who have only their labour to sell are what realtors call "motivated sellers". They may own all sorts of other stuff, but they're not able to realize any income from it, and so the only way to make cash is by selling labour, and that makes it a buyer's market. And as technology makes it possible to do more and more with less and less labour, the price falls.

     If we actually valued these unrecognized assets (ownership of the atmosphere, the sun and other natural resources but also perhaps the currency system and other elements of culture and language), and everyone actually received cash dividends from their shared ownership, what would that do to the value of labour?
     There are those who worry that things like welfare payments destroy the work ethic, and that if everyone were able to earn an income simply by collecting dividends like this, nobody would do any work and nothing would get done. But that's nonsense, and betrays a disturbing lack of faith. First of all, if no one did any work, no one would be doing anything that required them to pay for the use of any of these collective assets, and thus the dividends would be zero, and not enough to live on. You'd have to work in order not to starve. The market handles this sort of thing very well, after all.
     No, what would really happen is that the price of labour would rise, because it people would no longer be forced to sell it at whatever price they can get. They could reasonably decide just not to sell it at all, if the price were too low. In essence, we'd have a more efficient labour market, one in which the supply would actually contract in response to low prices, instead of there being a permanent glut.

    And so that's what I mean by the seemingly paradoxical claim that labour is undervalued because it is overvalued.

The Zen of Rhetoric: Avoid the Bias Card

    "According to a study in Respected Peer-Reviewed Journal, use of Type A widgets is effective in lowering the risk of Bad Stuff."
    "Respected Peer-Reviewed Journal? It's probably biased."

     Rhetoric is the art and skill of argumentation, analogous in some ways to martial arts in personal combat. Skill at rhetoric enables one to win arguments more often, and to defend one's positions more effectively, and we can think of winning an argument as being analogous to winning a fight (though I will argue later that this is the wrong way to look at it.) As with martial arts, there are some flashy moves that amateurs like to use, but in reality are almost never tactically sound. The accusation of bias is one of them.

     It's easy to see why this would be so tempting to use. It looks, at first glance, like a devastating offensive maneuver. With one simple claim, you seem to disarm your opponent completely, depriving her of all the evidence upon which her opinion rests. Bam! Game over! What choice does she have now, but to accept your position as correct?
     But in fact it's a clumsy and amateurish move that does more harm to your own credibility than that of the opponent. You cannot raise the issue of bias without calling your own objectivity into question. And when that happens, you're at a disadvantage, because you've already demonstrated an eagerness to discount unfavourable evidence the instant it looks like it might be unfavourable.
     Worse, you surrender any realistic hope of convincing your opponent when you play the bias card, because you undermine the very basis upon which convincing happens. If evidence and reason can be arbitrarily dismissed as "biased" because it supports one side or the other, then what reason is there for your opponent to accept any evidence or reason whatsoever? At best, the bias card is a scorched-earth defensive weapon; it allows you to avoid being convinced by your opponent, but that's all it does.

     However, I want to argue that it's even worse than that, because a true rhetorical warrior's objective is paradoxically not to win arguments, but to lose them, and by taking a step that makes it impossible to lose an argument, you make it impossible to succeed at rhetoric.
     The true rhetorical warrior is seeks not to convince his opponent, but rather, seeks to be convinced by her. True victory is to be persuaded, genuinely and honestly, to adopt a new opinion. It is no good conceding prematurely, pretending to be convinced by weak arguments or trickery. He must be sincerely convinced, satisfied by his opponent's logic and evidence, that he ought to adopt her claims. To that end, he presents his objections not in an attempt to refute her, but to help her understand the obstacles to convincing him in the hopes that she may overcome them.
     To be persuaded is a victory, because it enables one to improve one's understanding of the world by abandoning an understanding that is demonstrably flawed. "Winning" an argument, in contrast, profits one little, however gratifying it might be to one's vanity. The rhetorical warrior who understands this, then, would never try to play the bias card, because there is nothing to be gained by playing it.

Pyrobrachiate Abuse and How to Stop It

    Pyrobrachiates, more commonly known as "Heat" or various other street names, were originally developed for use by the military to increase the combat effectiveness of soldiers. They are far superior to PCP ("Angel Dust") in this regard because they can be used for longer periods and (when applied correctly) do not interfere with the user's ability to follow orders. Most nations have approved pyrobrachiates for use by their armed forces; somewhat more controversially, many civilian law enforcement agencies are increasingly relying on them as well. But of growing concern to many is widespread pyrobrachiate abuse by members of the public.
    In addition to their primary effects on combat performance, pyrobrachiates are known to have a number of subtle and not-so-subtle effects on their users. Users report euphoric feelings of power, and a delusion of invulnerability. John Lennon, himself a victim of pyrobrachiate abuse, ironically described the feeling in a Beatles song: "When I hold you in my arms, I know nobody can do me no harm". Precisely because of this effect, people frequently self-medicate with pyrobrachiates to treat feelings of fear, anxiety and inadequacy, but such use is particularly dangerous and habit-forming. Such users typically become dependent on Heat, and many literally believe they will die without it. Long term users suffer alienation, severe paranoia and antisocial delusions, and can become a danger to themselves and others.
    Even among casual and recreational users (as distinct from addicts), pyrobrachiates carry significant risks. Pyrobrachiates can exacerbate depression; studies have established a link between the availability of pyrobrachiates and suicide rates. They also contribute to aggression, positively correlated with higher homicide rates. Accidental deaths are also more common where pyrobrachiates are widely available, and children are especially vulnerable.
    In many countries, pyrobrachiates are subject to strict legal controls, though in the United States it has been difficult to enact effective legislation, in part thanks to a powerful industry lobby; it is not illegal to manufacture or sell pyrobrachiates in the U.S., and in fact the U.S. is the world's largest exporter. Like alcohol and tobacco (which fall under the jurisdiction of the same federal agency), pyrobrachiates are not legally classified as drugs. The FDA has no authority over them, and unlike virtually every other product offered for sale in the U.S., there are no product safety regulations in place to protect consumers.
     How do deal with the problem? There may be no easy solutions. We have seen, with the War on Drugs, that the criminal law is not a particularly effective tool to address certain kinds of public health threats.
     Perhaps it is time to approach pyrobrachiate abuse as a health problem, rather than a criminal problem. A complete ban may not be workable or even desirable, because pyrobrachiates do have their legitimate uses for military and law enforcement personnel, and there is evidence that under carefully regulated conditions, even private recreational use can have positive benefits to gross and fine motor skill, self-discipline and confidence. But steps can be taken to reduce the harm of pyrobrachiate abuse and misuse.
     First, education. People need to understand the dangers associated with pyrobrachiate use, and to know how to use them responsibly. There is a great deal of misinformation and myth surrounding pyrobrachiate culture, in part due to the sometimes glamourous way Hollywood portrays it. Casual use can lead to addiction; proper education can break that cycle before it starts.
     Second, pyrobrachiate addicts must be given safe and effective alternatives to treat their underlying anxieties, so that they no longer need the rush of false security pyrobrachiates provide. Education can play an important role here, helping people to understand that the dangers they see in the world around them are not actually addressed by the sense of invulnerability they get from pyrobrachiates. And, of course, acting to reduce the source of those insecurities (crime, social alienation, poverty and gross inequalities of social power and influence) can't hurt.
     Third, the influence of moneyed interests, and in particular the pyrobrachiate lobby, must be reduced. Sensible attempts to regulate the trade in and use of pyrobrachiates have been stymied at every turn by this lobby. Where legislation does manage to get passed, the agencies responsible for enforcing it have had their budgets quietly cut.
     Most importantly, though, it's time to wake up and acknowledge that there really is a problem.

Little Joys of Discovery #3: More Adventures in Neuroscience

     I was always puzzled as to why soldiers standing at attention are trained to lock their gazes straight ahead, especially in the case of the guards outside Buckingham Palace, who are famous for staring straight ahead despite any distraction tourists may offer. It always seemed to me that an alert guard should be scanning the whole field of view constantly, not simply staring at a single spot.
     Just recently, I found myself thinking about this while waiting for my wife to complete a transaction at the market, and I decided to try it out. I picked a spot on the wall and stared at that spot, and sure enough, it was hard to stay focussed, especially when someone walked in front of that spot.
     But then I tried something else. I tried to pay attention instead to my peripheral vision, all the other things that were going on in my field of view besides the spot right in front of me. Taking in the entire picture, noting the presence and movement of everything, rather than trying to pick out the specific details that we look for when we focus on something.
     And suddenly, I began to understand why the guards might be trained to stand at attention that way. Turns out, my field of view spans almost a full 180 degrees! So by attending to the entire image, I can actually monitor more targets than if I were to focus on just the portion on or near the fovea (the part of the retina at the very back which gives the most detail). What's more, while I couldn't make out much detail on anyone in particular, I was surprised to notice just how much I was able to fill in even without that detail. We humans read each other's body language very well, for the most part; I could tell that the tall person in the blue coat to my right was probably looking at his cell phone, without losing sight of my wife in her red coat to my left. My situational awareness felt much keener, studying the entire scene this way, which is precisely what you want in a guard.
      Interestingly, I also realized that this would go a long way to explaining why it's so difficult for tourists to distract the guards by flashing their breasts or other such silliness. (Not that anyone flashed their breasts at me at the market. And I think I would have noticed.) I found that since my attention was actually spread more or less evenly across my field of view, things happening right in front of me were easier to dismiss. That is, I didn't exactly ignore it when someone walked in front of me and lingered for a bit, obscuring my view of the letter "E" on the sign I had been gazing towards. I knew they were there, of course, and what they were doing more or less; I just had so many other things going on in my field of view that the person who happened to be front and center didn't monopolize my attention. Also, because I was now tracking my field of view based on the positions of things at the periphery, I didn't need to remain locked on the letter "E" to maintain a steady gaze.
     It also occurred to me that there's another reason why this kind of attention is useful for certain kinds of guards. Someone who is intently scanning like a searchlightback and forth may be better able to pick out fine details and identify anomalies, but they have bigger blind spots. Worse, those blind spots are more identifiable, and can be exploited. If you watch a scanning sentry, you may be able to tell when his attention is focused on the far end of his field of view, and use that opportunity to creep forward. A guard who stands, eyes fixed straight ahead, is much harder to read. What's more, the straight-ahead gaze is perhaps better adapted to pick up movement.

     I did some modest web searching, to see if there are any documents about why guards stand at attention this way, but haven't found anything to confirm my theory. It makes sense to me, and my informal experiments seem to support it, but really it's just conjecture on my part. As always, discussion is welcome int he comments section.