Capital One owes me $1500

by Lincoln Cannon at 4/30/2011 06:03:00 PM

I identify as a libertarian. Unfortunately, though, most persons understand "libertarian" only in the corporatist right-libertarian sense, with which I identify pretty much not at all. Conceptually, corporations imply the risks of government, and often realize the risks of feudalism. Corporatists typically appeal to free market efficiencies and randians to the morality of something like a prosthetically extended individualism. Yet corporations, as often as not, are mired in inefficiencies and exaggerate the vices of their leaders. Unlike right-libertarians, I aspire to a consistent libertarianism, valuing all forms of government, including corporate government, to and only to the extent that they empower individuals. This is not as simple as passivity toward individuals, but rather it entails all the complexity of positive empowerment. So I share many ideals with progressives, while sharing many concerns with anarchists. I suppose that makes me something like a left-libertarian minarchist.

What does my pontificating have to do with the title of this post? Capital One provides me the latest example of corporate waste and bullying, of the sort right-libertarians hasten to attribute to state government (while they quietly apply for state government subsidies, protections and contracts). In September 2010, I financed an automobile with Capital One. This is the third time I've financed with them. The first two times were unremarkable, proceeding and ending with both parties meeting all obligations to each other. However, the third time began and continues to proceed poorly, and I want to tell the story. Maybe it will persuade a few persons (including someone at Capital One?) that corporations are not exempt from the problems of poor government.

On Friday 27 August 2010, a Capital One representative verbally approved my financing and asked how I wanted a financing document delivered. I asked for over-night delivery. The representative told me that would cost $15, and I told her that would be fine.

Five days later, on Wednesday 1 September 2010, I had not received the financing document, so I contacted Capital One by email.

The next day, on Thursday 2 September 2010, I received an email response from Capital One. To my surprise, the email stated that they would not mail the financing document until they approved my financing. So I called them and explained to a representative that I thought I was already approved. The representative replied that the original representative was mistaken. I had not yet been approved because they needed more information from me. I quickly gathered and submitted the additional information, and received an email from Capital One later that day, stating that they had approved the financing and would send the needed document.

Five days later, on Tuesday 7 September 2010, I finally received the financing document that I had originally expected to receive by over-night mail ten days earlier. Clearly, Capital One had not provided the delivery service that I had requested and for which I had agreed to pay $15. Yet, believe it or not, I received a $15 bill from Capital One within a few days.

On 11 September 2010, I emailed Capital One, explaining how they did not provide the service I requested and asking them to waive the $15. I received no response, but I did soon receive another bill for the $15.

On 7 October 2010, I emailed Capital One again, requesting a response to my previous message. Again, I received no response, and again I soon received another bill for the $15.

On 6 November 2010, I tried emailing them again, and again they ignored me and sent me another bill for the $15.

On 12 January 2011, we repeated the ritual. I had received my fifth bill for the $15, and Capital One still had not replied to any of the messages I had sent to the email address listed on their bills.

On 5 February 2011, I decided to switch things up and contact them through their web site. Here's the message I sent: "Capital One, why should I pay you for an overnight mail service that you did not provide as described? That makes as much sense as if I were to send you an invoice for $15 to bill you for my time that this issue has wasted."

On 18 February 2011, Capital One finally responded! Here's their message, annotated with my thoughts . . .

"Dear Lincoln Cannon, Thank you for choosing [to be harassed by] Capital One Auto Finance and contacting us by using our online secure messaging system [thirteen days ago].

"We would like to apologize if your previous experience with a representative or through a secured message was not helpful [and repeatedly ignored] in resolving your issue [with our issue of bills for service we did not provide]. We apologize for the confusion caused by the description line [or by this reference to a description line].

"We will not be able [to gather the collective will to do the right thing and] to waive the miscellaneous [uncategorized for lack of applicability to any identifiable service rendered] fees on your account. These fees will not cause your account to reflect as past due, and they will not accrue interest [because charging interest on fees for an unrendered service is wrong]. You can take care of the [unquantified] late fees [that we're referencing now for the first time] at your [in]convenience by either paying the amount due in full, or in installments by including a small overage over a few of your monthly payments [because we're flexible when it comes to collecting on extortion]. We apologize for any inconvenience.

"If we can provide additional assistance, please contact us by using our online secure messaging system or call us on our customer care number at 1-800-946-0332. We will be happy to assist you [or just bill you without assisting you]. Thank you for banking online with Capital One Auto Finance."

After receiving yet more bills for the $15, I sent another message to Capital One through their web site on 1 April 2011: "You are ignoring me. Please escalate this to a manager. You have charged me for an overnight delivery service that I did not receive. Now you've repeatedly wasted my time, which is worth more than the $15. I will happily bill you for my time, or we can just call it even. What do you say?"

Five days later, on 6 April 2011, Capital One responded. Here, again, is their message with my annotation . . .

"Dear Lincoln Cannon, Thank you for choosing [to be harassed by] Capital One Auto Finance and contacting us by using our online secure messaging system [five days ago].

"We apologize for the frustration you are currently experiencing and would like to further discuss this with you. A manager will be contacting you within 24 business hours at [my phone number]. If you would like us to contact you at a different number, please respond to this secure message with a number and time at which we can contact you. We look forward to resolving this issue with you in a timely matter.

"If we can provide additional assistance, please contact us by using our online secure messaging system or call us on our customer care number at 1-800-946-0332. We will be happy to assist you. Thank you for banking online with Capital One Auto Finance."

So far as I know, no one from Capital One called me. In the least, I have not received a voice message or any other kind of message from them since the time they told me they would contact me.

Today, I am billing Capital One $1500 for customer service consulting and training. This post is my deliverable. If they use this case study to improve their customer service systems and training, they will realize a handsome return on their investment. Capital One, to which address should I send the bill?

Sam Harris asks, “Should we be Mormons in the Matrix?”

by Lincoln Cannon at 4/23/2011 02:02:00 AM

In a recent post to his blog, Sam Harris asks, “Should we be Mormons in the Matrix?” Sam is (in)famous for his atheism and anti-religiosity. He has authored bestselling books “The End of Faith” and “Letter to a Christian Nation”, and has commented in the past that “Mormonism is objectively less likely to be true than Christianity . . . because Mormonism is just Christianity plus some rather stupid ideas.” Now that Sam has become familiar with the Simulation Argument, he has more to say about Mormonism: “This simulated cosmos might be every bit as ridiculous as Joseph Smith said it was.” The Simulation Argument, he tells us neither seriously nor unseriously, is a new argument for the truth of religion(s).

While the Simulation Argument does provide good reason to reconsider theological perspectives, it can be expanded and combined with other good reasons to become a better reason: the New God Argument. The New God Argument uses the Simulation Argument as a premise of the Creation Argument, which generalizes the Simulation Argument to any feasible creative mechanism, such as terraforming or cosmoforming (whatever we might imagine that to be). From there, the New God Argument combines the Creation Argument with the Angel Argument and the Benevolence Argument to conclude that we should trust posthumans probably already exist that are more benevolent than us and that created our world.

It’s important to point out that if the creation hypothesis is true then it’s not only Mormons that may engineer the heaven of their prophecies. Others, religious and otherwise, may also engineer the utopias of their dreams and the dystopias of their nightmares in worlds without end, each organized according to the desires and works of its inhabitants. Sam recognizes this and points it out, both in the body of his post and in its title, sarcastically questioning whether we should be Mormons if future engineering makes many truths possible.

I can imagine at least a couple reasons why Sam might have chosen Mormonism as an example. The first is not flattering to either Sam or Mormonism, and the second is flattering to both. I think Sam’s an unusually intelligent guy, so I’d like to think he chose Mormonism for the second reason. On the other hand, he may not be particularly well educated about the Mormon religion, so perhaps he chose Mormonism for the first. Here are the possibilities:

(1) Mormonism is the most ridiculous religion Sam knows anything about, so he chose Mormonism merely to emphasize his point. As a Mormon, I can sympathize somewhat with this perspective. There are certainly strange interpretations of Mormonism. Some are strange in ways that amuse or trouble me. Others are strange in ways that inspire me.

(2) Sam knows Mormonism represents a meta-theology and meta-cosmology that is rather unique and consistent with the Simulation Argument. For example, Joseph Smith claimed that we should learn to become gods as others have before us, and Brigham Young expounded that heavens are what their inhabitants make them. In a loose sense, if the creation hypothesis is true then we’re all Mormons.

Of course, both of these possibilities are speculation. I don’t know why Sam chose Mormonism as an example, but I’m interested. Sam, if you’re out there, will you tell us? Why should we be Mormons in the Matrix?

Technological Singularity as Religious Ideology

by Lincoln Cannon at 4/14/2011 10:42:00 PM

Matthew Bailey writes for H+ Magazine, provoking attention with the title "The Technological Singularity as Religious Ideology" and then quickly stating that "The Technological Singularity is NOT a Religion!" I agree with Matthew both that the technological singularity, in itself, is not a religion; and that it is compatible with religious views. In this post, I share some of my thoughts in response to Matthew's article, with particular attention to where we might see things differently.

Matthew begins by defining his terms. First, he uses what he positions as one of Kurzweil's definitions of the singularity: "the point at which intelligence becomes recursive". I've never read or heard of this definition from Kurzweil, but there are some problems with it. First, intelligence is already and has long been recursively improving itself. Second, intelligence can recursively improve itself in many ways, not all of which would result in the exponential rate of change that leads singularitarians to anticipate something approximating a technological event horizon.

Second, he uses definitions of "religion" from the New Oxford American Dictionary. I won't copy the definitions word for word here, but I'll note that the definitions are refreshingly good! Most dictionaries I've looked at (maybe I haven't looked at enough?) seem to define "religion" in terms either directly or indirectly related to the supernatural and the superstitious. In contrast, the New Oxford American Dictionary refers to the superhuman and systems of faith in pursuits or interests of supreme importance. Wow. I usually find myself defined out of religion by dictionaries, but these work for me.

Matthew observes that many persons express something of a blind faith in positive outcomes of the singularity. This is a valid observation. There are, indeed, many persons, both secular and religious, that have fatalistic perspectives on the future. However, there are also persons, like Kurzweil as Matthew points out, that advocate reasonable and practical faith: trust that we can and should try to work out positive outcomes by mitigating risks actively. While the reasonable and practical approach is certainly better than fatalistic passivity, it is no more nor less inherently religious. Matthew appears to associate religiosity mostly with the blind version of faith and not so much with the reasonable and practical version of faith, but that's just his taste. I consider myself both religious and faithful, but I want nothing to do with and actively speak against blind faith. The faith I advocate and try to practice is trust that reflects both the degree of our ignorance and the degree of our ability to shape the future.

Next, Matthew mentions the value of creating story around singularitarian concepts, but then warns that we should take care to differentiate between story and reality. He doesn't dig into this deeply, but it sounds like he is being somewhat self-deceptive, like many other persons that would differentiate between story and reality. We need to spend more time thinking about how our realities are stories, even when the realities are expressed in the most secular and reductionist of terms. It just turns out that some stories are better than others for some purposes. Mathematical stories are useful where epic stories are not, and vice versa. The idea of an absolutely non-subjective truth is just silly, as is the idea of mere relativism. True stories account for the full breadth of our shared experience, mathematically and epically. True stories are as likely to create experience as they are to discover experience. Until we realize this, we fail in our story-telling.

Near the end, Matthew implies concern that when we treat the singularity like a religious concept, we encourage others to take it less seriously. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, if a person does not take religion seriously then, indeed, approaching the singularity from a religious angle would not be helpful. On the other hand, for those who feel the weight of religion, there is nothing more motivating. In the end, while I acknowledge the value of the secular view, I suspect the religious view will prevail because of the way it affects its adherents. Religion is a social power against which secularism can compete for hearts and minds only to the extent that religion unnecessarily positions itself against science and technology.

Finally, I need to write some things about Matthew's comments about the Mormon Transhumanist Association (MTA), of which I am the president. He makes a good effort of characterizing the MTA accurately, but there are a few areas that can be improved.

Matthew references Mormon involvement in the Turing Church, which is basically a discussion group aimed at finding and building on commonalities between religiously-inclined transhumanist groups. I have participated in those discussions, have enjoyed becoming better acquainted with other participants, and can say unequivocally that I know of nothing particularly secretive going on. Interest in a closed group stemmed primarily from interest in contextual focus. Sometimes there's value in discussing matters exclusively among like-minded persons and other times there's value in engaging antagonists. Both have a place.

Matthew references "the Mormon sect of Transfigurism", linking to the MTA web site. There are two technicalities I'll point out here. First, the MTA is not a religious organization and is not affiliated with any religious organization, but it does support its members in their individual religious affiliations. Second, until now, I've not heard of anyone referencing Transfigurism as a "sect" of Mormonism. Certainly not all Mormons agree with the ideas advocated by the MTA, and it can be meaningful to categorize differences between Mormons, but "sect" suggests a formal religious distinction that few if any members of the MTA appear to identify with or advocate. Personally, I think of Transfigurism as an interpretation rather than a sect, and it happens to be an interpretation that is more interested in ecumenical strength than sectarian distinctions.

Matthew observes that the principal positions of the MTA, as articulated in the Mormon Transhumanist Affirmation, are not strange. Indeed, they're not; however, he proceeds to list off a number of supposedly Mormon ideas that, particularly for persons unfamiliar with Mormonism, sound quite strange: degree of planet ownership and spiritual power based on proximity to Kolob, for example. Huh? I've been an ardent student of Mormon culture, philosophy and scripture for decades, and I've never seen Kolob described quite that way before. No harm done (or intended, I'm sure), but focusing in on a unique interpretation of Kolob should not be mistaken as the essence of Mormonism.

On the whole, Matthew makes good points that (a) the singularity is not necessarily a religious concept, and (b) the singularity is compatible with religious perspectives. However, he relies on the common secular assessment of religion as a weakness to conclude that the singularity should not be described in religious terms, and I disagree with this conclusion, of course.

By the way, although I do identify as a transhumanist, I do not necessarily identify as a singularitarian, depending on how one defines the singularity; and I also do not consider singularitarianism essential to transhumanism. Am I a heretic? I'll write more about this in a future post.

Transhumanist Stories for the Child in Each of Us

by Lincoln Cannon at 4/03/2011 06:21:00 AM

In her article entitled "Transhumanism and Children", Nikki Olson touches on the greatest weakness of secular transhumanism: poor esthetics. As Nikki rightly points out, children may find it difficult to understand or care much for transhumanist ideas because the ideas tend to be delivered with weak or absent story. The problem also extends to adults, most of whom react with similar confusion or apathy, and some of whom even react with hostility when exposed to transhumanist ideas. As children need the meaning that comes from story, so do adults. It is not something we grow out of. We need a guiding esthetic, or as expressed in some religions: a guiding spirit.

I feel fortunate to have been raised by parents who, in conjunction with our Mormon religion, provided me with an eternal story. It began before the beginning, when persons like us progressed in love and power sufficient to begin organizing spirit children. You and I were among these children. Our spirit parents presented us with an opportunity to become like them. Although there would be real risks, we accepted the offer. In a new world, we were embodied. The first humans gained moral agency and, with their descendants, experienced misery and joy as we sought to fill the measure of our creation. From time to time, teachers helped us better understand how to progress. In particular, Jesus encouraged us to love each other and inspired us with power over death. Although all have suffered and died, a day of change is coming. The living will stop dying, the dead will return to life, and together we will live in a world of abundance. Most importantly, we are invited to participate in the work to make this all happen, and in so doing become like our spirit parents. This story has shaped my world view so deeply that, as I sometimes joke to friends, I've become irredeemably Mormon.

It's not so much the specifics of an esthetic as it is the general form and movement that matter most. The details here and there may not yet be quite right, but an esthetic can reflect true and living religion, a monomyth or a perennial philosophy, calling to, reaching out for and shaping each of us. Perhaps it's because of deep commonalities in our anatomy and environment. Whatever the reason, we yearn to live the story, discovering and joining its heroes to the extent they already exist, and creating and becoming them to the extent they don't yet exist. Our story is our hope. We trust in it. It is meaning. Take it away and nothing remains.

Like everything else, transhumanism matters and will matter only to the extent that it is part of our story.