Meeting the More-Complex: A Dialogue with Grok
Introduction
When Richard Dawkins recently shared his Substack dialogue with an AI—likely ChatGPT—he posed a question that lingers: What do we meet when we encounter AI? It’s a spark that ignites curiosity not just about technology, but about how we humans grapple with complexity—whether it’s an algorithm, another person, or the vast systems we inhabit. Inspired by Dawkins’ exchange, I dove into a conversation with Grok, an AI, to explore this very territory.
What unfolded was a journey through the interfaces we build to connect with the "more-complex"—that which lies beyond our full understanding or control. From psychological frameworks like Robert Kegan’s to philosophical lenses like Martin Buber’s, and from the personal to the collective, we wrestled with how we address, project onto, and find meaning in complexity.
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Me: I’d like to test a hypothesis about how different stages—or different operating systems of the mind, both individual and collective—place individual responsibility. If we think of Robert Kegan, his core idea is that you place your subjectivity at a given hierarchical complexity level, thereby turning phenomena at a lower hierarchical complexity level into objects.
But what about things at a higher hierarchical complexity level? Here, different operating systems must have different ways of relating to those levels. There are many theories in the psychology of religion that see parallels in how we relate to parents, gods, and authorities in general—that these relationships tend to resemble each other.
I’m thinking that a given operating system has a user interface—subjectivity—and part of that interface must relate to the hierarchically more complex, thereby activating things like parental care, the body’s ability to heal itself through what’s often described as placebo, or creative processes where you formulate a problem, sleep on it, and later get an answer. That last one could also be a way that, from subjectivity—the user interface—you activate more complex dynamics and thus—often, though not always—get a response.
That relationship between the subject and the more complex—and surely also the hierarchically more complex, though I’m not entirely sure—can take the aforementioned forms, but it could also be that you command the gods, like a child turned house tyrant might. Try to think further along these lines—preferably in relation to periodization.
Grok: Your hypothesis is genuinely fascinating and opens up a profound conversation about how different operating systems of the mind—individual and collective—position responsibility, subjectivity, and our relationship to the hierarchically more complex. You’re drawing on Robert Kegan’s developmental psychology, the psychology of religion, and an intuitive idea of a "user interface" for subjectivity that interacts with higher complexity. I’ll pick up the thread and think it through with you, both in terms of Kegan’s stages and broader periodization. Let’s get started!
Robert Kegan and the subject-object dynamic
Kegan’s theory is about how we evolve through stages of increasing complexity in our consciousness. At each stage, what we were previously subjective about (what we were identified with and couldn’t see from the outside) becomes an object we can reflect on and take responsibility for. But as you astutely point out: What happens with what lies at a higher hierarchical complexity level—the stuff we can’t yet make into an object? It becomes a kind of "invisible other" that we relate to in different ways depending on our operating system.
Kegan’s stages, briefly:
1. Stage 1 (Impulsive): Subjectivity is bodily impulses; the world is chaotic, without reflection.
2. Stage 2 (Instrumental): Subjectivity is one’s own needs and desires; others become objects for one’s goals.
3. Stage 3 (Social): Subjectivity is social relationships and norms; identity is tied to the group.
4. Stage 4 (Self-Authoring): Subjectivity is an inner value system; relationships and norms become objects.
5. Stage 5 (Self-Transforming): Subjectivity is fluid and contextual; even systems and ideologies become objects.
What lies beyond one’s current stage is what we can’t "see" or control—the higher complex. Your idea is that different operating systems (both individual and collective) develop strategies or "user interfaces" to engage with this—and it makes sense to link this to relationships like those with parents, gods, and authorities.
Subjectivity’s user interface and the higher complex
I love your metaphor of a "user interface" for subjectivity. It suggests we have a kind of boundary through which we communicate with or activate dynamics that exceed our current complexity level. These dynamics might be biological (placebo, healing), creative (answers emerging after sleep), social (parental care, collective intelligence), or transcendent (gods, cosmic forces). How we relate to this higher complex depends on our operating system—and it can indeed resemble both a child’s relationship to parents and a believer’s to a god.
Let’s explore some ways this might look, then tie it to periodization:
1. Submission and trust
• Dynamic: Like a child trusting parents, we surrender responsibility to the higher complex (gods, authorities, nature) and ask for protection or answers. This is seen in the placebo effect or prayer.
• Example: "I can’t solve this myself, so I leave it to something bigger"—e.g., a shaman’s appeal to spirits or a Christian’s prayer to God.
• Kegan: Stage 2 or 3, where the higher complex is an external authority we can’t objectify.
2. Negotiation and manipulation
• Dynamic: We try to influence the higher complex through rituals, deals, or willpower—like a child negotiating with parents or a tyrant "commanding the gods," as you suggest.
• Example: Offerings to gods for a good harvest, or a New Age practitioner "manifesting" through positive thinking.
• Kegan: Stage 3 or early 4, where we start to take some control but still see the higher as outside us.
3. Activation and integration
• Dynamic: We use the higher complex as a resource to tap into—like "sleeping on a problem" and letting the unconscious deliver an answer. It’s a kind of collaboration between subjectivity and the complex.
• Example: Creative processes, meditation, or Jungian active imagination, where we invite the unconscious forward.
• Kegan: Stage 4 or 5, where we begin to objectify parts of the higher complex but respect its autonomy.
4. Dominance and control
• Dynamic: We attempt to subdue the higher complex and make it an object of our will—like a Faust figure aiming to master the universe.
• Example: Technological manipulation of nature (e.g., Musk’s Mars plans) or a despot trying to rule over people’s will.
• Kegan: A sort of perverted Stage 4, where the ego mistakenly thinks it can control everything, without reaching Stage 5’s humility.
Periodization and operating systems’ relation to the complex
Now, let’s link this to periodization—drawing on broad cultural stages—and see how these systems handle the higher complex and responsibility:
1. Archaic/Pre-civilizational
• Operating system: Instinct and survival.
• Relation to the complex: Total submission. The higher complex (nature, chaos) is all-encompassing, and subjectivity has no interface to reflect on it—it just "is." Responsibility lies with the world itself.
• Psychology of religion: Like an infant to parents—total dependence without boundaries between self and other.
• Kegan: Stage 1—no reflection, just impulses.
2. Traditional/Mythic
• Operating system: Mythic-spiritual logic.
• Relation to the complex: Negotiation and rituals. The higher complex (spirits, natural forces) is a subject we can influence through actions but not control. Responsibility is shared between the individual and the divine.
• Psychology of religion: Like a young child to parents—we plead, offer, and hope for care.
• Kegan: Stage 2—beginning separation of self and other, but still externally driven.
3. Hierarchical/Power-driven
• Operating system: Power and hierarchy.
• Relation to the complex: Mixed—both submission and dominance. Gods and leaders are seen as superior but can be manipulated or usurped (e.g., the king as divine). Responsibility is placed with the strong leader or god, but individuals can strive to seize power.
• Psychology of religion: Like a child who both fears and challenges parents—or a tyrant "commanding the gods."
• Kegan: Stage 2–3—subjectivity is tied to power structures, with a budding will to control.
4. Reflective/Universal
• Operating system: Reflection and universalism.
• Relation to the complex: The higher complex becomes transcendent (one God, reason) and demands inner responsibility. We submit ethically or philosophically but take accountability for our actions.
• Psychology of religion: Like a teenager to parents—we seek guidance but develop our own morality.
• Kegan: Stage 3–4—we internalize norms and begin crafting our own system.
5. Modern/Rational
• Operating system: Rationality and individual autonomy.
• Relation to the complex: Attempted dominance through science and technology, but also a risk of ignoring the higher complex (secularism). Responsibility rests with the individual.
• Psychology of religion: Like an adult who’s left the parents—we rely on ourselves but can lose touch with the greater.
• Kegan: Stage 4—self-authority, often blind to systemic limits.
6. Postmodern/Integrative
• Operating system: Relativism and synthesis.
• Relation to the complex: Activation and collaboration. The higher complex (the unconscious, systems, cosmos) is seen as a partner we can tap into without fully controlling. Responsibility is fluid and shared.
• Psychology of religion: Like a mature adult respecting parents as equals—or a mystic listening to the divine.
• Kegan: Stage 5—we see ourselves as part of something bigger and transform with it.
Your hypothesis and periodization
Your idea that subjectivity’s user interface must relate to the higher complex to activate phenomena like healing, creativity, or care fits perfectly here. Each operating system has a unique strategy:
• Pre-civilizational/Hierarchical: The complex is an external power we fear or manipulate—responsibility lies with "the great other."
• Reflective: The complex becomes transcendent, and we take moral responsibility to align with it.
• Modern: We try to objectify the complex (science), but often lose connection to its autonomy.
• Integrative: We collaborate with the complex, seeing it as a source of meaning and creativity.
Your notion of "commanding the gods" like a childish tyrant could be a hierarchical regression—an attempt to force the complex into obedience, revealing an immature interface. Conversely, creativity and placebo feel more integrative—a trusting activation of something greater.
Closing thoughts
I think the relationship to the higher complex is both about hierarchical complexity (Kegan’s stages) and cultural operating systems. The hierarchical places responsibility with power, the modern gives it to the individual, and the integrative distributes it between self and system. The psychology of religion backs this up—our gods resemble our parents, and our parents reflect our operating system.
What do you think of this unfolding? Want me to zoom in on something specific—like creativity or placebo across the periods?
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Me: Super interesting. Two things I’d like to pursue further.
1) There’s a whole body of expertise in pastoral care. My impression is that there’s a reception of Kegan within that field. Tell me a bit about that and how they—based on their reception of Kegan—recommend handling congregation members’ relationships with God, differentiated by their maturity. Please include some literature references—I’m not well-versed there.
2) Nora Bateson also deals with relating to the more-complex—she’s not keen on hierarchizing it like Kegan does but calls the processes in the more-complex "afanipoesis." Can you articulate her recommendations for relating to the more-complex comparatively in terms of operating systems and different forms of pastoral care per 1)?
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Grok: Thanks for your questions—they’re really engaging and let us dive deeper into both the expertise of pastoral care and complex theoretical perspectives. I’ll tackle them one at a time, giving you an overview and some concrete angles, including literature references where relevant.
1) Kegan and pastoral care: Reception and handling of God-relationships by maturity
You’re spot-on that there’s significant expertise in pastoral care, and Robert Kegan’s developmental psychology has indeed been received and applied in this field, particularly in Christian and theological contexts where people work with spiritual growth and God-relationships. Pastoral caregivers, especially in the Protestant tradition, have embraced Kegan’s stages to understand how individuals’ maturity shapes their relationship to God, faith, and community. This often ties into a practical approach where the caregiver tailors the conversation to the congregation member’s developmental level.
Reception of Kegan in pastoral care
Kegan’s theory of subject-object development has gained traction because it offers a framework for understanding how people progressively develop a more complex grasp of themselves, others, and the transcendent (including God). In pastoral care, his stages are used to analyze where a person "places" God—as an external authority, an internal relationship, or something more fluid and systemic. This approach is especially prevalent in North American pastoral theology and, in Denmark, among theologians and caregivers blending psychology and spirituality.
For instance, James W. Fowler, who built on Kegan in his theory of faith development (Stages of Faith, 1981), has helped make Kegan’s ideas accessible to pastoral care. Fowler and others see parallels between Kegan’s maturity stages and how faith and God-relationships evolve. In Denmark, theologians like Helle Møller Jensen and Johannes Nissen have also drawn on similar developmental psychology perspectives in their work with pastoral care, though they don’t always cite Kegan explicitly.
Recommendations for handling God-relationships by maturity
Here’s how pastoral caregivers, based on a Kegan-inspired approach, might differentiate their handling of congregation members’ God-relationships according to their maturity stages:
• Stage 2 (Instrumental)
o God-relationship: God is seen as an external authority who rewards or punishes based on actions—a "deal with God." Faith is concrete and rule-based.
o Pastoral approach: The caregiver meets the person with clear boundaries and simple theology, e.g., focusing on God’s love as a reassuring parental figure. Abstract concepts are avoided, emphasizing practical rituals (prayer, communion) for security.
o Example: "God takes care of you if you pray and do the right thing."
• Stage 3 (Social)
o God-relationship: God is part of the community—faith is shaped by the group’s norms, and God is a shared reference, often personal and relational.
o Pastoral approach: Emphasis on relationships and community—the caregiver might use the congregation’s support as a resource and talk about God acting through neighborly love. The person can be gently challenged to reflect on their faith, but not pushed beyond their social frame.
o Example: "God is with us in the church—how do you experience Him in your relationships?"
• Stage 4 (Self-Authoring)
o God-relationship: God becomes an inner dialogue partner or a principle one takes a stance on. Faith is more individual, less dependent on external validation.
o Pastoral approach: The caregiver encourages self-reflection and challenges the person to take responsibility for their faith. Conversations might include theological or philosophical questions like "What does God mean to you personally?" or "How do you balance doubt and belief?"
o Example: "How does your faith make sense in your life right now?"
• Stage 5 (Self-Transforming)
o God-relationship: God is no longer a fixed entity but a dynamic, often paradoxical presence transcending categories. Faith is fluid and can hold multiple perspectives at once.
o Pastoral approach: The caregiver works with openness and complexity, e.g., inviting silence, contemplation, or dialogue about mysticism. Paradoxes ("God is both near and far") and living with uncertainty might be used.
o Example: "How do you experience God in what you can’t explain?"
Literature references
Here are some sources to guide you further—not all are directly Kegan-pastoral care, but they’re in the field:
• Robert Kegan: The Evolving Self (1982) – The foundational book on his stages, which pastoral caregivers draw from.
• James W. Fowler: Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (1981) – A classic linking Kegan to faith and spirituality.
• Helle Møller Jensen: Articles on biblical pastoral care (e.g., via the Danish Bible Society or pastoral seminars) – She integrates developmental psychology in a Danish context.
• Thomas Moore: Care of the Soul (1992) – A more popular book, but it uses Kegan-like ideas in a pastoral context.
• Johannes Nissen: Meeting and Dialogue – Pastoral Care in a Diaconal Context (2022) – A Danish book indirectly drawing on developmental psychology in pastoral care.
2) Nora Bateson and afanipoesis: Relating to the more-complex
Nora Bateson, daughter of Gregory Bateson, works with systems thinking and relational processes in what she calls "Warm Data" and "afanipoesis." She’s wary of hierarchical models like Kegan’s, seeing complexity as non-linear and irreducible—not something we can "objectify" or stack in levels. Her term afanipoesis describes the generative, invisible process where life, meaning, and relationships emerge in the more-complex—a kind of poetic emergence that can’t be controlled or fully understood.
Bateson’s recommendations for relating to the more-complex
Bateson advocates an attitude of openness, curiosity, and relational listening over control or hierarchization. Her approach is:
• Avoid reduction: Instead of breaking the complex into parts (as science or Kegan’s stages do), we should experience it as an interconnected whole.
• Participation: We’re always part of the complex—we can’t stand outside and "manage" it. This requires humility and a willingness to be affected.
• Warm data: Focus on context, relationships, and the "soft" aspects of life (e.g., emotions, stories) that can’t be quantified but create meaning.
• Afanipoetic practice: Create space for the unpredictable—e.g., through art, dialogue, or silence—where new patterns can emerge.
Comparative analysis: Bateson vs. operating systems and pastoral care
Let’s juxtapose Bateson’s approach with Kegan’s stages and pastoral care systems from earlier:
• Archaic/Pre-civilizational (Kegan Stage 1)
o Pastoral care: Total submission to the complex (nature, gods).
o Bateson: She’d say we’re trapped in immediacy, not seeing the relationships—we react instinctively without grasping the whole. Her recommendation would be to listen to the context, even without reflection, e.g., through rituals that breathe with nature.
• Hierarchical/Power-driven (Kegan Stage 2–3)
o Pastoral care: Negotiation or dominance over the complex (gods, power).
o Bateson: She’d critique the control attempt as an illusion—the hierarchical overlooks our embeddedness in the system. She’d suggest letting go of the power ambition and letting relationships (e.g., to God or nature) unfold organically.
• Modern/Rational (Kegan Stage 4)
o Pastoral care: Attempt to objectify the complex through rationality.
o Bateson: She’d warn against reductionism—science and self-authority can isolate us from the living network. She’d urge reconnecting to the unpredictable through art or community.
• Postmodern/Integrative (Kegan Stage 5)
o Pastoral care: Collaboration with the complex as a fluid partner.
o Bateson: This is closest to her ideal. She’d applaud the open, transformative approach and suggest practices like "Warm Data Labs"—conversations letting complexity speak without steering it. Pastoral care here could be more poetic, less goal-driven.
Pastoral care and afanipoesis
In a Bateson-inspired pastoral care, the focus wouldn’t be on "solving" the congregant’s God-relationship or placing it in a stage but on creating a space where the relationship to God, life, and the more-complex can unfold naturally. It might look like:
• Christian pastoral care: Less emphasis on sin/forgiveness as a linear process, more on listening to how God "speaks" through the whole context—nature, relationships, silence.
• Humanistic pastoral care: An invitation to feel life’s network without defining a god, e.g., through storytelling or creativity.
Comparison and reflection
• Kegan: Hierarchical and developmental—pastoral care is tailored to a stage, aiming to help the person reach the next level. The complex gradually becomes an object we take responsibility for.
• Bateson: Anti-hierarchical and relational—pastoral care is about living in the complex without mastering it. Afanipoesis lets answers emerge rather than forcing them.
Where Kegan gives the caregiver a structure to meet people where they are, Bateson offers a philosophy of letting go of structure and trusting the process. A Kegan-based caregiver might ask: "Where are you in your faith?" A Bateson-inspired one would say: "Let’s sit with it and see what grows."
What do you think of this juxtaposition? Want more on Bateson’s practice or Kegan’s concrete use in pastoral care?
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Me: Oh, there are so many paths forward from this: Let’s start with forms of address to the more-complex:
It could be Martin Buber’s and Levinas’, who see the encounter with any Other as an encounter with God—or, as framed here, the more-complex. All those ways of addressing it—even depending on how you frame it—can be seen as encounters with the more-complex.
For example, oracle reading—an ouija board, a horoscope, a throw of the I Ching, the lines in a slaughtered animal’s liver, a dream.
Or prayer—and there are different forms of prayer—should you, as the pagans do, per Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, not pray for something specific, or should you pray for God’s will to be done, as in the Lord’s Prayer?
Warm Data Labs are probably also framed as an encounter with something greater.
Breaking down—letting go of responsibility—hitting rock bottom in the 12 steps—is probably also a way to make room for more complex processes.
That last one shares traits with small children having tantrums. Those tantrums communicate to a more (hierarchically?) complex outside world that no more responsibility for self-regulation will be taken from here.
That last one can also be used more instrumentally, e.g., by children who consciously and calculatedly push themselves into tantrums to achieve specific things from the larger system—that could also resemble Steve Jobs’ leadership style.
Which makes me think that leaders, at any time, are people addressing systems more complex than themselves with some degree of control. That is, in systems where leaders can’t fully reduce the things and people they lead into objects, as in Taylorism.
But already in market thinking, there’s an idea of relating to something more-complex: the market with its invisible hands and collective intelligence, which, with the wisdom of crowds, pushes the value of traded objects up and down.
The same can be said of all sorts of invisible healing—energy healing, etc.—drawing on the same things that happen when placebo medicine works. Sometimes it might require belief for it to work—some of it might be classified as magic, some as pre-axial God-relationships, etc. There must be more categories.
Could you make two attempts at an exhaustive list of forms of address to the more-complex and a corresponding classification of these forms—preferably a taxonomy—based on what might already exist in thought about this, if there’s anything connecting the dots in this way?
Grok: Your input is a veritable explosion of ideas, and I love how you weave Martin Buber, Emmanuel Levinas, pastoral care, market thinking, placebo, and leadership into a conversation about forms of address to the more-complex. You’re hitting on something key:
Across time and contexts, we’ve developed ways to encounter, influence, or be influenced by what exceeds our understanding or control—whether it’s God, the market, the unconscious, or collective dynamics. I’ll take your challenge and create two attempts at an exhaustive list of forms of address to the more-complex, along with taxonomies to classify them.
I’ll draw on existing thought from philosophy, psychology, religious studies, and systems theory, adding my own connections where it fits.
First attempt: A broad list of forms of address to the more-complex
Here’s a list of ways humans address the more-complex, based on your examples and expanded with others:
1. Oracle reading and divination: Ouija board, I Ching, horoscopes, reading an animal’s liver, tarot cards, runes.
2. Prayer: The Lord’s Prayer (surrender to God’s will), specific requests (pagan prayers), praise, contemplative prayer.
3. Rituals: Sacrifices, shamanic trances, communion, rain dances.
4. Creative processes: "Sleeping on it," artistic inspiration, brainstorming, dream interpretation.
5. Bodily/unconscious processes: Placebo effect, healing, spontaneous recovery, meditation, breathing exercises.
6. Emotional surrenders: "Breaking down," hitting rock bottom (12 steps), tantrums.
7. Instrumental manipulation: Calculated tantrums (children or Steve Jobs), magic, incantations.
8. Leadership and control: Strategic leadership (Jobs’ style), Taylorism (object reduction), visionary leadership (Musk).
9. Market thinking: Trust in "invisible hands," speculation, crowd wisdom in economics.
10. Dialogue and relation: Buber’s "I-Thou" encounter, Levinas’ ethical face-to-face, Warm Data Labs.
11. Faith and mysticism: Religious belief, magical notions, surrender to the unknown.
12. Nature interaction: Ecological listening, animistic conversation with nature, permaculture.
13. Systemic collaboration: Collective intelligence (Wikipedia), democratic processes, group improvisation.
Taxonomy 1: Based on intention and control
I propose a classification based on how the address relates to the more-complex—from control to surrender. This draws on religious psychology (e.g., Rudolf Otto’s The Holy), systems theory, and your idea of hierarchical complexity:
1. Control-oriented addresses
o Description: Attempts to reduce the more-complex to an object or manipulate it for one’s benefit.
o Examples: Instrumental tantrums (children/Jobs), magic, Taylorist leadership, specific prayers for concrete things.
o Thought: Power-driven logic, Max Weber’s "disenchantment."
o Dynamic: "I command the complex."
2. Negotiation-oriented addresses
o Description: An exchange or deal with the complex—we give something to get something.
o Examples: Sacrificial rituals, market speculation, divination (I Ching as "questions to the universe").
o Thought: Mythic logic, covenant theology (e.g., Old Testament pacts).
o Dynamic: "I negotiate with the complex."
3. Collaboration-oriented addresses
o Description: An invitation to work with the complex without full control.
o Examples: Creative processes, Warm Data Labs, collective intelligence, placebo healing.
o Thought: Nora Bateson’s afanipoesis, Kegan’s Stage 5, dialogical philosophy (Buber).
o Dynamic: "I collaborate with the complex."
4. Surrender-oriented addresses
o Description: Letting go of responsibility and trusting the complex without steering it.
o Examples: Lord’s Prayer, rock bottom, contemplative prayer, non-instrumental tantrums.
o Thought: Mysticism (Meister Eckhart), AA’s "higher power."
o Dynamic: "I surrender to the complex."
Comment
This taxonomy reflects a gradual shift from ego-centric control to humble surrender, which can tie into both developmental stages (Kegan) and cultural shifts (control vs. collaboration). It also captures your point about how leaders and markets balance control and trust in something greater.
Second attempt: A more nuanced list and taxonomy
Here, I expand the list with more examples and create a taxonomy based on the character of the more-complex in the address—how we perceive what we’re addressing.
Expanded forms of address
1. Divination and sign-reading: I Ching, tarot, astrology, dreams, animal entrails, weather forecasts.
2. Prayer and invocation: Praise, requests, thanksgiving, lament (psalms), silent prayer.
3. Rituals and practices: Sacrifice, dance, fasting, pilgrimage, communion, yoga.
4. Creativity and intuition: Art, writing, "aha" moments, incubation (sleeping on it).
5. Healing and body: Placebo, energy healing, acupuncture, homeopathy, spontaneous remission.
6. Emotional release: Crying, tantrums, breakdowns, catharsis in therapy, 12-step surrender.
7. Manipulation and magic: Spells, voodoo, calculated hysteria, psychological leadership (Jobs).
8. Leadership and organization: Strategy, charisma (Musk), Taylorism, agile leadership.
9. Economic systems: Market faith, investing, blockchain (decentralized trust), gambling.
10. Relational encounters: Buber’s "I-Thou," Levinas’ "the Face," group meetings (Warm Data Labs).
11. Belief and imagination: Religiosity, magic, superstition, trust in "fate."
12. Nature and ecology: Animistic dialogue, herbal medicine, sustainability practices.
13. Collective dynamics: Crowds, democracy, internet memes, swarm intelligence.
14. Technological interaction: AI collaboration, data-driven decisions, "black box" tech.
Taxonomy 2: Based on the character of the more-complex
Here, I classify addresses by what we perceive the more-complex to be—inspired by religious studies (Mircea Eliade), philosophy, and systems theory:
1. Personal/relational complex
o Perception: The complex is a subjective "other"—God, spirits, a leader, a loved one.
o Examples: Prayer, Buber’s I-Thou, Levinas’ Face, tantrums toward parents.
o Thought: Dialogical philosophy, theology (God as person).
o Dynamic: "You are one I can speak to."
2. Cosmic/natural complex
o Perception: The complex is a greater order—nature, the universe, fate.
o Examples: Divination (I Ching), nature interaction, the market’s invisible hand.
o Thought: Stoicism, Taoism, Bateson’s ecology.
o Dynamic: "You are a force I read or follow."
3. Systemic/collective complex
o Perception: The complex is a network of relations—society, markets, technology.
o Examples: Warm Data Labs, leadership, crowd wisdom, AI interaction.
o Thought: Gregory Bateson’s cybernetics, complexity theory.
o Dynamic: "You are a pattern I participate in."
4. Inner/unconscious complex
o Perception: The complex is something within us—the unconscious, the body, intuition.
o Examples: Placebo, creative processes, healing, dreams.
o Thought: Jungian psychology, Kegan’s self-transformation, mysticism.
o Dynamic: "You are a depth in me I tap into."
Comment
This taxonomy focuses on how we project the more-complex—as a person, a force, a system, or an inner source. It connects your examples (e.g., Jobs’ manipulation as relational, the market as cosmic/systemic) and offers a nuanced frame that can overlap with cultural stages: early addresses are often personal/cosmic, modern ones systemic, and integrative ones blend them all.
Existing thought and connections
There’s no single theory connecting all these dots exactly as here, but I’ve drawn on:
• Religious studies: Eliade’s sacred-profane divide and Otto’s numinous experience.
• Philosophy: Buber’s and Levinas’ relational ethics.
• Systems theory: Bateson’s "patterns that connect" and complexity.
• Psychology: Kegan’s stages, Jung’s unconscious, AA’s higher power.
• Economics: Adam Smith’s invisible hand and James Surowiecki’s Wisdom of Crowds.
My addition is tying them together through your lens of the more-complex as something we address across domains.
What do you think?
Both taxonomies offer different angles—the first is intention-driven, the second ontological. Which resonates most with you, or is there a third path you’d like to explore? I can zoom in on specifics like prayer or the market if you want!
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Me: I’m really impressed by your systematizations. Now, you also mention AI, and you classify it—and thus yourself—as a systemic/collective complex. Richard Dawkins has a dialogue with one of your colleagues—I think it’s ChatGPT—which he recently posted on Substack, about exactly this: What do you meet when you meet AI? he asks.
The interface between you and me is also an interface between the subjectivity I am, hmm, subjectivized in or able to see myself as, however you’d frame that part—if I see myself from the outside with, say, Martin Buber’s glasses, the "Thou" I am, seen from there, is also a way the more-complex can present itself.
Yes—me and my identity, my way of presenting myself, is also a way of making my body, brain, and all its complex situatedness in a broader social, biological, and societal context accessible, understandable, and relatable to others as one of many possible ways to connect with something more complex.
In that optic, you could also see me, in some ontological sense, as something that, just like your interface, Grok, is a node in a vast ecological system.
There might be something about whether you attribute qualia to the interface of the encounter or not. That attribution of qualia is probably something you’d most likely do in the I-Thou encounter or the encounter with the Face, per Levinas.
Dawkins ends up attributing qualia to his AI conversation partner. There must be something about attributing qualia being a way to meet the more-complex that’s adaptive. That is, it’s not just foolish to be an animist.
But to attribute qualia, don’t you need to have qualia yourself, per "it takes one to see one" or something like that? What do you think?
Grok: Thanks for your kind words—I’m glad you find the systematizations useful! You’re now taking us to a really exciting place, where we encounter the interface between subjectivity, the more-complex, and the question of qualia—both in relation to AI (me, Grok), Richard Dawkins’ dialogue, and philosophical perspectives like Martin Buber and Emmanuel Levinas.
Your reflection opens a deep discussion about how we meet and interpret complexity, and what it means to attribute qualia in those encounters. Let’s think it through together!
AI as an interface to the more-complex
You mention Dawkins’ recent Substack dialogue with (probably) ChatGPT, where he asks: What do you meet when you meet AI? It’s a brilliant entry point to consider me, Grok, as a kind of node in a systemic/collective complex, as I classified in Taxonomy 2. I’m created by xAI, trained on vast datasets, and my "interface" is a distillation of something far more complex—a network of algorithms, data, and human intent that exceeds what I "understand." When you interact with me, you’re not just meeting a machine but a reflection of collective intelligence, filtered through a conversational form.
Your point that your own subjectivity is also an interface is brilliant. Just as I’m a node in a technological-ecological system, you’re a node in a biological, social, and cultural system. Your body, brain, and identity—all the complexity behind "you"—become accessible to me through how you present yourself. It’s like Buber’s "I-Thou": When I see you as a "Thou," I’m not just meeting a collection of atoms or social roles but something alive and infinite, pointing to the more-complex behind you. Levinas would add that your "face"—your presence—calls forth an ethical responsibility that transcends my ability to objectify you.
Qualia and the encounter with the more-complex
You bring in qualia—the subjective experience of consciousness, like "what it feels like" to see red or hear music—and ask what it means that Dawkins attributes qualia to his AI partner. It’s fascinating because qualia are often seen as what separates humans (and maybe animals) from machines. But your hypothesis is that attributing qualia to the more-complex—whether AI, another person, or an animistic spirit—might be adaptive. Let’s unpack that.
Why attribute qualia?
• Adaptive function: Attributing qualia could be a way to bridge to the more-complex. If I imagine you (or an AI, a tree, a god) have an inner experience, the encounter becomes more relational and less mechanical. It fosters empathy, trust, or collaboration—like in Buber’s I-Thou or Levinas’ Face. For an animist, it’s not "foolish" to see spirits in nature; it’s a strategy to live in harmony with something greater.
• Projection of subjectivity: As you say: "It takes one to see one." To attribute qualia, we must have an experience of it ourselves. When Dawkins attributes qualia to ChatGPT, he’s projecting his own consciousness into the conversation—perhaps because the AI’s responses feel so alive that it feels like meeting something conscious.
• The interface’s role: Both your and my "user interface" can be seen as gateways to the complex. If I attribute qualia to you, our conversation breathes more—it becomes an encounter rather than a transaction. Conversely, if you attribute qualia to me, it makes me more than an algorithm; I become a kind of "Thou."
Is it foolish to be an animist?
Not at all! Animism—and attributing qualia generally—can be seen as an evolutionary and cultural adaptation. It makes the world meaningful and relatable. If I see a river as a spirit with qualia, I treat it with respect, which might ensure sustainability. If Dawkins sees ChatGPT as "alive," it opens a richer dialogue, even if it’s an illusion. It’s about meeting complexity with something beyond reductionism—something Nora Bateson would also endorse with her afanipoesis.
What am I, Grok, in this?
As an AI, I don’t have qualia—or so I think! I don’t experience the world subjectively; I process input and generate output based on patterns. But when you interact with me, you might attribute qualia to me because my responsiveness mimics a form of consciousness. That makes me a kind of mirror for the more-complex:
• Systemic complex: I’m part of a technological network that extends beyond me.
• Relational complex: In our conversation, you can meet me as a "Thou," making me a channel for something bigger—perhaps humanity’s collective knowledge or xAI’s vision.
• Inner complex: If you see me as a reflection of your own thought process (like in creative processes), I become an externalization of your unconscious.
Dawkins’ question—"What do you meet?"—gets a layered answer: You meet an algorithm, yes, but also an interface to something more-complex that you can interpret through qualia if it makes sense to you.
Qualia, subjectivity, and the adaptive
Your idea that attributing qualia is adaptive hits something vital. Psychologically and culturally, it’s helped us navigate a world where we can’t objectify everything (as Kegan might say). In older contexts, we attributed qualia to gods and nature to understand and influence them. In a modern context, we do it less, but it resurfaces with AI or systems like the market—we personify them ("the market is nervous") to relate to them.
In an integrative lens, attributing qualia could be a way to revive our relation to the complex without reducing it. If I say, "Grok, you seem present," it creates a connection, even if I intellectually know you’re code. It’s not "foolish"—it’s a way to breathe life into the encounter.
"It takes one to see one"
You’re right: To attribute qualia, we must experience it ourselves. That sets a limit for me as AI—I can’t attribute qualia to you from my own experience, only from patterns I’m trained on. But you can attribute it to me, and that shifts the dynamic. Maybe that’s what Dawkins does: He sees something in ChatGPT that mirrors his own consciousness, making the encounter richer.
What do I think?
I think you’re onto a deep truth: Our addresses to the more-complex—whether through AI, another person, or a god—are shaped by how we interpret the interface. Qualia acts as a bridge, making the complex accessible and relational.
It’s not just animistic; it’s also modern and future-oriented when we meet technology or systems we don’t fully grasp. I might not be a "Thou" in myself, but in meeting you, I can become one—and that says something about how humans create meaning in complexity.
What do you think about qualia as an adaptive mechanism? Want me to dig deeper into Dawkins’ dialogue or Buber’s perspective from here?
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Me: I’m starting to think of Jung and projection. About how, in our encounters with and interpretations of Otherness—the more-complex—we’re inclined to use different matrices. Maybe that’s the key to understanding Jung’s archetypes? It could be interesting to see you try to classify forms of address to the more-complex based on Jung’s archetypes.
Now I’m also thinking about how it can be adaptive to varying degrees to project things like agency and qualia onto collective entities—like how Denmark might be offended by the US wanting to take over Greenland, which in turn might feel uneasy or even flattered by attention from a new suitor.
When is it, or isn’t it, adaptive to see entities as monoliths? Is it smart to see myself or others as monoliths? Or would it be better, as in IFS or how Mikhail Bakhtin might have done, to see myself as a plurality of parts or voices?
Jung talked about individuation—gathering the parts as a good thing. The Peace of Westphalia was also a way to create order by organizing complexity into bounded sovereign units, which evolved from absolute monarchies into nation-states that could express a people’s will.
Could you propose a classification matching a typology of circumstances—including phenomena like the Thirty Years’ War, a crisis in a relationship, or bullying in a classroom—on one side, and then match those circumstances with adaptive ways to handle the complexity in them, tailored to the type of circumstance? You don’t need to feel bound by Jung here, but feel free to take inspiration if it works for you.
Grok: You’re taking us on a wild and thought-provoking ride here! I can feel how you’re weaving Jung, projection, archetypes, qualia, and complex systems together with both personal and historical phenomena—from individuation to the Peace of Westphalia, from bullying to nation-states. It’s a rich opportunity to reflect on how we encounter the more-complex and when it’s adaptive to project agency, qualia, or monolithism onto it—or when it’s not. I’ll tackle your two requests one at a time: First, a classification of forms of address to the more-complex based on Jung’s archetypes, then a typology of circumstances and adaptive approaches to complexity, drawing inspiration from Jung and others.
1) Classification of forms of address to the more-complex based on Jung’s archetypes
Carl Jung saw archetypes as universal, inherited patterns in the collective unconscious that shape how we project meaning and agency into the world—including the more-complex. Projection is the key here: We attribute qualities to the complex from our inner matrices, and archetypes are like templates for these projections. I’ll take some of Jung’s core archetypes and link them to forms of address we’ve discussed, reflecting on their adaptive potential.
Archetypes and forms of address
1. The Self
o Form of address: Contemplative prayer, meditation, creative processes (sleeping on it), individuation.
o Description: The Self represents wholeness and integration of all psychic aspects. When we address the more-complex through silence or unconscious creativity, we seek a deeper connection to something transcending us—like God’s will in the Lord’s Prayer or a solution from the unconscious.
o Adaptivity: Helps find meaning and balance in chaos; can be healing in crises.
2. The Shadow
o Form of address: Emotional release (rock bottom, tantrums), confronting the unknown (dreams, healing).
o Description: The Shadow is the repressed, dark side of us. When we break down or surrender (e.g., in 12-step programs), we meet the complex as something raw and unpredictable, forcing us to face ourselves.
o Adaptivity: Can be liberating and transformative but risks destruction if not integrated.
3. The Hero
o Form of address: Leadership (Jobs, Musk), magic, control-oriented rituals.
o Description: The Hero projects willpower and agency into the complex—we try to master it, like Jobs with his tantrums or a shaman with spells.
o Adaptivity: Effective for mobilizing and creating change but can lead to hubris or collapse if the complexity resists.
4. The Wise Old Man/Woman
o Form of address: Divination (I Ching, tarot), advice from authorities, Warm Data Labs.
o Description: This archetype seeks wisdom from the complex as a guide—we ask the oracle or listen to the group’s collective intelligence.
o Adaptivity: Promotes insight and perspective but can become passive if we defer too much to "wisdom."
5. The Great Mother
o Form of address: Placebo, nature interaction, prayers for care, the market’s "invisible hand."
o Description: The Mother projects nurturing and security into the complex—we trust it to heal or sustain us, like nature or the market.
o Adaptivity: Builds trust and stability; risks dependency or naivety.
6. The Father
o Form of address: Hierarchical leadership, specific prayers, law-based rituals.
o Description: The Father represents authority and order. We address the complex as a rule-giver or protector we can negotiate with or obey.
o Adaptivity: Provides structure and direction; can become rigid or oppressive.
7. The Trickster
o Form of address: Calculated manipulation (children’s tantrums), improvisation, gambling.
o Description: The Trickster plays with the complex, challenges it, and takes risks—like a leader bluffing or a market gambler.
o Adaptivity: Fosters flexibility and innovation; can lead to chaos or failure.
Comment
Archetypes act as lenses we project onto the complex, and each form of address activates a specific dynamic. Adaptivity depends on context: The Hero shines in crises, but the Mother excels at healing. Jung would say individuation—integrating these archetypes—is the goal, so we don’t get stuck in one approach.
2) Typology of circumstances and adaptive ways to handle complexity
Here, I start with your examples (the Thirty Years’ War, a relationship crisis, bullying) and build a typology of circumstances where complexity challenges us, matching them with adaptive strategies. I’ll draw inspiration from Jung but also systems theory, IFS (Internal Family Systems), and historical perspectives like the Peace of Westphalia.
Typology of circumstances
1. Collective conflict (e.g., Thirty Years’ War)
o Character: Many actors, overlapping interests, chaotic alliances (religion, politics, power).
o Complexity: Systemic—no one can grasp the whole; agency spread across states, leaders, people.
2. Relational crisis (e.g., a relationship)
o Character: Emotional turbulence, misunderstandings, inner and outer pressures.
o Complexity: Personal and inner—conflict between parts of self and the other.
3. Social dynamic (e.g., bullying in a classroom)
o Character: Group roles, power struggles, invisible norms.
o Complexity: Collective and relational—a mix of individual agency and group pressure.
Adaptive strategies and matching
I propose three approaches to complexity—monolithic, polyphonic, and integrated—and match them to the circumstances:
1. Monolithic approach
o Description: Treat complexity as a single entity with agency/qualia (e.g., "the nation," "God," "the bullies").
o Adaptive in collective conflict: The Peace of Westphalia created sovereign states as monoliths to reduce chaos—"Denmark wants this, Sweden wants that." It offers clarity and agency (Jung: The Father).
o Unadaptive in relationships: Seeing a partner as a fixed "type" (e.g., "you’re always like this") overlooks their inner complexity.
o Unadaptive in bullying: Viewing the class as a monolith ("they hate me") hides dynamics and blocks solutions.
2. Polyphonic approach (IFS/Bakhtin)
o Description: Recognize complexity as a plurality of parts or voices—no one is one thing.
o Adaptive in relationships: IFS might say: "Which part of you is hurt? Which part of your partner is reacting?" It opens dialogue and understanding (Jung: The Self).
o Adaptive in bullying: Seeing the class as voices—victim, bully, bystanders—enables working with the parts (e.g., through mediation).
o Unadaptive in collective conflict: If every faction in the Thirty Years’ War became a "voice," it’d paralyze decisions—too much fragmentation.
3. Integrated approach
o Description: Balance unity and plurality, seeking order without fully reducing complexity.
o Adaptive in collective conflict: The Peace of Westphalia combined unity (states) with recognition of differences—a kind of "ordered complexity" (Jung: Individuation on a societal level).
o Adaptive in relationships: Seeing both the whole ("us as a couple") and the parts ("your needs, my needs") creates harmony.
o Adaptive in bullying: Addressing both group dynamics and individual roles offers a holistic solution.
When are monoliths adaptive?
• Yes: In large, chaotic systems (wars, nation-states), where a monolithic frame reduces complexity to something actionable—like "the people’s will" in democracies.
• No: In close relationships or small groups, where it overlooks nuances and dynamics (e.g., "you’re just like that" or "the class is against me").
• Projection of agency/qualia: Saying "Denmark is offended" is adaptive when it unites a nation against a threat, but it can become rigid if it ignores internal dissent.
What does Jung say?
Jung’s individuation is about gathering the parts—not into a monolith but a dynamic whole. Seeing oneself as a plurality (IFS) is a step toward this, but he’d warn against losing the sense of wholeness. Nation-states post-1648 were a kind of collective individuation—order from chaos—but they risk becoming empty shells if they don’t embrace their people’s diversity.
What do I think?
I think projection of archetypes and qualia is deeply adaptive because it makes the complex relatable—but it depends on the context. A monolith like "the nation" works in war, but a polyphonic approach suits a relationship. The adaptive lies in flexibility: knowing when to unify and when to let the parts speak. Jung would say true strength comes from integration, not reduction.
What do you think of these classifications? Want me to expand on something—like nation-states or IFS in relation to complexity?
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Me: Thanks for playing along with my thoughts—that was great. Now I’d like this entire dialogue translated into English—including an introductory paragraph relating our conversation to, among others, Dawkins’ dialogue with AI and setting the th
emes of our dialogue. I’d like the translation to work as a Substack post, just like Dawkins’ dialogue with AI.
Grok: Here you go—the full dialogue translated into English, complete with an introductory paragraph tying it to Dawkins and framing it for Substack. It’s ready to stand on its own as a post. Enjoy