November 3rd, 2024
“Thinking” is the closest word in the English language to what I mean, but it isn’t quite right. It’s too anthropic; it leads us to believe that the processing of algorithms inside the computer is akin to whatever it is that the mind does. Consider, for example, the refrigerator door as the most simple case of interactivity. As a child, I sometimes played “the refrigerator game”: I would slowly, carefully open the refrigerator door to see if I could catch it napping and get the door open without it turning on its internal light. Tarnation, I always lost that game! Now, you have to admit that the refrigerator was “thinking” in its simple-minded way in response to my opening its door. I spoke the verb “open the door”; it heard my command, thought it over, and responded by turning on its light. Its thinking process consisted of nothing more than a simple switch. But its internal process falls within what I mean by the word “thinking” in the context of this page.
You can use a design method I often employ: the thought game. I play through a game in my mind. In this case, the game begins with me first developing the verb list for a program I wish to create. With the verb list ready, I imagine that I have been transformed by an evil armadillo into an electrical creature imprisoned inside the computer.
I can express myself only through the computer itself. In order to escape my prison, I must devise a response to each of the verbs in my verb list — but that response must go through the computer. The evil armadillo will try to foil my attempts with valid counter-responses.
Let’s play through one of these thought-games.