Philosophy Discussion Forums | A Humans-Only Club for Open-Minded Discussion & Debate

[Pattern-chaser]

If such mental elements can be real in a mind-only universe, why should they lose that status in a universe where they coexist with matter?

Do they? I'm not clear what you're saying here. Real mental elements remain real regardless of the presence of matter, I think.

Yes — exactly! I am glad we are on the same page there.

My point was more rhetorical than literal.

If we are willing to grant full ontological status to mental phenomena in a mind-only scenario, then shouldn’t we also grant them equal footing in a mixed reality—rather than relegating them to the role of internal “maps” pointing to a supposedly more real “territory”?

I agree, but I think your last few words are misunderstanding what I was saying? Our thoughts have reality, of a sort. I think most of us would agree, although there are significant differences between them and material objects. But maps and the territory is another matter.

The territory is the real world. In contrast, our maps contain our thoughts *about* reality, things that (we hope) help us understand reality, but are not (in this sense) part of reality, of the territory. So I would not deny the (obvious?) reality of our thoughts, but I would see them as being map-based.

This sounds a bit confusing, because I'm offering two different perspectives here simultaneously. Yes, the thoughts are real, but no, they aren't strictly part of the territory, I don't think. But I see your points too. And I wouldn't argue strongly that our thoughts are map-based; I think they are maybe both, depending on the perspective we take?

[Sy Borg]

Humans are not greedy for power. They are just animals who, like other animals, try to survive and thrive. If your statement was true then you and I would be greedy for power. I know I'm not, and I'm confident that you're not either.

Most social animals have a drive to organise, because that organisation lets them survive. There may have been groups of humans in the past who did not see the need to organise themselves into a hierarchy. Obviously, such a society would have zero chance of competing with more organised groups.

Why do we organise? Because those who didn't organise are gone.

Why do we fear death? Because those who didn't fear death are gone. Same principle.

Well, you and I may not be not greedy for power, but parliaments around the world are filled with examples for greedy people.

In animal hierarchies, the leadership is mostly dependent on physical strength, because it is all about living through another day. And when two alphas fight for the leadership, the lost one never tries any cunning methods to steal that leadership, because that won't help in survival (I don't think 'Lion King' happens in reality). If everything humans did and are doing only for survival, why such cunning and shameful practices, not only once or twice but many times, are seeing among humans?

People vary. Some are more interested in having power than others. In social animals, the ones at the top have support from strong lieutenants. Ditto humans. Sometimes we call those lieutenants "oligarchs". In order to stay in power, the leader must first make sure their supporters are satisfied. Then they are free to distribute other resources as they see fit.

In terms of power and leadership, both with humans and other intelligent mammals, networking is key.

That’s a solid point — networking and securing loyalty clearly play a huge role in both human and animal hierarchies.

But if we accept the common claim that human behaviour is fundamentally about survival, then how do we account for actions that seem to risk survival rather than ensure it — like reckless power grabs, betrayal, or corruption that ultimately destabilise the very systems people depend on?

Some people value their own lives less than others. Some people value others' lives more than others. There's much variety within our ranks.

Reckless power grabs, betrayal, and corruption are strong survival-oriented strategies. Some people don't care if their behaviour endangers others, just as long as they personally benefit. It's been found that psychopaths are overrepresented in the halls of power. I think most of us have noticed that those at the top are not necessarily the best of us, but we can surely say they are all ruthless. You don't reach the top tiers of government without being ruthless, without having ways of making life hard for anyone who gets in your way.

Many African nations have large numbers of people suffering extreme poverty, but their leaders "somehow" become billionaires while they are in office. Human life is not entirely ordered or logical; there is a chaotic component.

Meanwhile, history shows us that society with weak hierarchies cannot develop the technology needed to compete with more hierarchic societies, that pool their resources to advantage.

[Sushan]

If such mental elements can be real in a mind-only universe, why should they lose that status in a universe where they coexist with matter?

Do they? I'm not clear what you're saying here. Real mental elements remain real regardless of the presence of matter, I think.

Yes — exactly! I am glad we are on the same page there.

My point was more rhetorical than literal.

If we are willing to grant full ontological status to mental phenomena in a mind-only scenario, then shouldn’t we also grant them equal footing in a mixed reality—rather than relegating them to the role of internal “maps” pointing to a supposedly more real “territory”?

I agree, but I think your last few words are misunderstanding what I was saying? Our thoughts have reality, of a sort. I think most of us would agree, although there are significant differences between them and material objects. But maps and the territory is another matter.

The territory is the real world. In contrast, our maps contain our thoughts *about* reality, things that (we hope) help us understand reality, but are not (in this sense) part of reality, of the territory. So I would not deny the (obvious?) reality of our thoughts, but I would see them as being map-based.

This sounds a bit confusing, because I'm offering two different perspectives here simultaneously. Yes, the thoughts are real, but no, they aren't strictly part of the territory, I don't think. But I see your points too. And I wouldn't argue strongly that our thoughts are map-based; I think they are maybe both, depending on the perspective we take?

Thank you for the clarification. You are right that there is an intuitive distinction between the "world out there" and our internal representations of it.

But if thoughts are real, then why draw the line at them being merely about the territory and not part of it, especially if they have causal power, shape action, and in turn, shape the world?

Maybe the distinction is not between real and not-real, but between different modes of being: the material, the mental, the social, the symbolic. And perhaps the “territory” is richer than just the physically extended — it might be everything that has being, not just what has extension.

Perhaps “map” and “territory” aren’t always separable — maybe sometimes, the map is a part of the territory too.

[Sushan]

Well, you and I may not be not greedy for power, but parliaments around the world are filled with examples for greedy people.

In animal hierarchies, the leadership is mostly dependent on physical strength, because it is all about living through another day. And when two alphas fight for the leadership, the lost one never tries any cunning methods to steal that leadership, because that won't help in survival (I don't think 'Lion King' happens in reality). If everything humans did and are doing only for survival, why such cunning and shameful practices, not only once or twice but many times, are seeing among humans?

People vary. Some are more interested in having power than others. In social animals, the ones at the top have support from strong lieutenants. Ditto humans. Sometimes we call those lieutenants "oligarchs". In order to stay in power, the leader must first make sure their supporters are satisfied. Then they are free to distribute other resources as they see fit.

In terms of power and leadership, both with humans and other intelligent mammals, networking is key.

That’s a solid point — networking and securing loyalty clearly play a huge role in both human and animal hierarchies.

But if we accept the common claim that human behaviour is fundamentally about survival, then how do we account for actions that seem to risk survival rather than ensure it — like reckless power grabs, betrayal, or corruption that ultimately destabilise the very systems people depend on?

Some people value their own lives less than others. Some people value others' lives more than others. There's much variety within our ranks.

Reckless power grabs, betrayal, and corruption are strong survival-oriented strategies. Some people don't care if their behaviour endangers others, just as long as they personally benefit. It's been found that psychopaths are overrepresented in the halls of power. I think most of us have noticed that those at the top are not necessarily the best of us, but we can surely say they are all ruthless. You don't reach the top tiers of government without being ruthless, without having ways of making life hard for anyone who gets in your way.

Many African nations have large numbers of people suffering extreme poverty, but their leaders "somehow" become billionaires while they are in office. Human life is not entirely ordered or logical; there is a chaotic component.

Meanwhile, history shows us that society with weak hierarchies cannot develop the technology needed to compete with more hierarchic societies, that pool their resources to advantage.

There is no denying the reality of ruthless survival strategies, or how often they are rewarded in political and economic systems.

But perhaps this is where it gets even more complex: these behaviours do secure personal advantage in the short term, but they often undermine collective survival, destabilising institutions, economies, even the long-term viability of the species. So if we broaden “survival” to include societal or civilizational survival, then these strategies begin to look... self-defeating.

That is why I wonder whether we have moved beyond simple survival logic. When people pursue status, legacy, ideology, or revenge at the cost of long-term survival, maybe we are seeing the emergence of symbolic imperatives.

[Pattern-chaser]

You are right that there is an intuitive distinction between the "world out there" and our internal representations of it.

But if thoughts are real, then why draw the line at them being merely about the territory and not part of it, especially if they have causal power, shape action, and in turn, shape the world?

Maybe the distinction is not between real and not-real, but between different modes of being: the material, the mental, the social, the symbolic. And perhaps the “territory” is richer than just the physically extended — it might be everything that has being, not just what has extension.

Perhaps “map” and “territory” aren’t always separable — maybe sometimes, the map is a part of the territory too.

Aaaagggghhh! No. Whatever else is the case, our map(s) can never be part of the territory, by definition and description, and also by our understanding of what they both are. My/our understanding of map and territory is intuitive, but also much more than that.

The existence of map and territory, and the very clear and useful distinction between the two, is not intuitive. It was first explicitly described and defined by Alfred Korzybski. But Rene Magritte's painting of a pipe carries the same message, although simplified: "Ceci n'est pas une pipe".

There is plenty of material out there. Just type "map vs. territory" into your favourite search engine.

And why does this matter? There are quite a few meaty reasons, I think, but the simplest and easiest is that we sometimes get confused, and think that our maps — laws, rules, ideas, etc — govern or control the real world. We are tempted to think the the real world *must* follow our "Law of Gravity". No, the territory does what it does without our aid, and our thoughts or laws are wholly without power or authority.

The real world is the "territory", and it is always right. It is the Master, the Reference. Our maps comprise our various thoughts and ideas, and they are very much secondary to the territory; it cannot be otherwise.

So no, the map and the territory cannot be mixed up or confused, and one cannot become the other.

[Sy Borg]

People vary. Some are more interested in having power than others. In social animals, the ones at the top have support from strong lieutenants. Ditto humans. Sometimes we call those lieutenants "oligarchs". In order to stay in power, the leader must first make sure their supporters are satisfied. Then they are free to distribute other resources as they see fit.

In terms of power and leadership, both with humans and other intelligent mammals, networking is key.

That’s a solid point — networking and securing loyalty clearly play a huge role in both human and animal hierarchies.

But if we accept the common claim that human behaviour is fundamentally about survival, then how do we account for actions that seem to risk survival rather than ensure it — like reckless power grabs, betrayal, or corruption that ultimately destabilise the very systems people depend on?

Some people value their own lives less than others. Some people value others' lives more than others. There's much variety within our ranks.

Reckless power grabs, betrayal, and corruption are strong survival-oriented strategies. Some people don't care if their behaviour endangers others, just as long as they personally benefit. It's been found that psychopaths are overrepresented in the halls of power. I think most of us have noticed that those at the top are not necessarily the best of us, but we can surely say they are all ruthless. You don't reach the top tiers of government without being ruthless, without having ways of making life hard for anyone who gets in your way.

Many African nations have large numbers of people suffering extreme poverty, but their leaders "somehow" become billionaires while they are in office. Human life is not entirely ordered or logical; there is a chaotic component.

Meanwhile, history shows us that society with weak hierarchies cannot develop the technology needed to compete with more hierarchic societies, that pool their resources to advantage.

There is no denying the reality of ruthless survival strategies, or how often they are rewarded in political and economic systems.

But perhaps this is where it gets even more complex: these behaviours do secure personal advantage in the short term, but they often undermine collective survival, destabilising institutions, economies, even the long-term viability of the species. So if we broaden “survival” to include societal or civilizational survival, then these strategies begin to look... self-defeating.

That is why I wonder whether we have moved beyond simple survival logic. When people pursue status, legacy, ideology, or revenge at the cost of long-term survival, maybe we are seeing the emergence of symbolic imperatives.

Very few have moved beyond simple survival logic. Historically, moving beyond survival logic meant survival less well and thus being less likely to pass genes and conditioning to the next generation. The maxim that we are nine meals from annarchy remains.

If your children were starving to death, would you transcend simple survival logic? Not many would. I wouldn't.

[Sushan]

You are right that there is an intuitive distinction between the "world out there" and our internal representations of it.

But if thoughts are real, then why draw the line at them being merely about the territory and not part of it, especially if they have causal power, shape action, and in turn, shape the world?

Maybe the distinction is not between real and not-real, but between different modes of being: the material, the mental, the social, the symbolic. And perhaps the “territory” is richer than just the physically extended — it might be everything that has being, not just what has extension.

Perhaps “map” and “territory” aren’t always separable — maybe sometimes, the map is a part of the territory too.

Aaaagggghhh! No. Whatever else is the case, our map(s) can never be part of the territory, by definition and description, and also by our understanding of what they both are. My/our understanding of map and territory is intuitive, but also much more than that.

The existence of map and territory, and the very clear and useful distinction between the two, is not intuitive. It was first explicitly described and defined by Alfred Korzybski. But Rene Magritte's painting of a pipe carries the same message, although simplified: "Ceci n'est pas une pipe".

There is plenty of material out there. Just type "map vs. territory" into your favourite search engine.

And why does this matter? There are quite a few meaty reasons, I think, but the simplest and easiest is that we sometimes get confused, and think that our maps — laws, rules, ideas, etc — govern or control the real world. We are tempted to think the the real world *must* follow our "Law of Gravity". No, the territory does what it does without our aid, and our thoughts or laws are wholly without power or authority.

The real world is the "territory", and it is always right. It is the Master, the Reference. Our maps comprise our various thoughts and ideas, and they are very much secondary to the territory; it cannot be otherwise.

So no, the map and the territory cannot be mixed up or confused, and one cannot become the other.

Korzybski's insight is undoubtedly useful — but isn't the very act of defining what counts as “map” and “territory” itself a conceptual framework? A meta-map, so to speak?

In other words: when we say “the map is not the territory,” that’s not a brute fact about the world — it’s a philosophical claim about the world. A valuable one, yes, but still a claim made within a system of thought — a map.

[Sushan]

That’s a solid point — networking and securing loyalty clearly play a huge role in both human and animal hierarchies.

But if we accept the common claim that human behaviour is fundamentally about survival, then how do we account for actions that seem to risk survival rather than ensure it — like reckless power grabs, betrayal, or corruption that ultimately destabilise the very systems people depend on?

Some people value their own lives less than others. Some people value others' lives more than others. There's much variety within our ranks.

Reckless power grabs, betrayal, and corruption are strong survival-oriented strategies. Some people don't care if their behaviour endangers others, just as long as they personally benefit. It's been found that psychopaths are overrepresented in the halls of power. I think most of us have noticed that those at the top are not necessarily the best of us, but we can surely say they are all ruthless. You don't reach the top tiers of government without being ruthless, without having ways of making life hard for anyone who gets in your way.

Many African nations have large numbers of people suffering extreme poverty, but their leaders "somehow" become billionaires while they are in office. Human life is not entirely ordered or logical; there is a chaotic component.

Meanwhile, history shows us that society with weak hierarchies cannot develop the technology needed to compete with more hierarchic societies, that pool their resources to advantage.

There is no denying the reality of ruthless survival strategies, or how often they are rewarded in political and economic systems.

But perhaps this is where it gets even more complex: these behaviours do secure personal advantage in the short term, but they often undermine collective survival, destabilising institutions, economies, even the long-term viability of the species. So if we broaden “survival” to include societal or civilizational survival, then these strategies begin to look... self-defeating.

That is why I wonder whether we have moved beyond simple survival logic. When people pursue status, legacy, ideology, or revenge at the cost of long-term survival, maybe we are seeing the emergence of symbolic imperatives.

Very few have moved beyond simple survival logic. Historically, moving beyond survival logic meant survival less well and thus being less likely to pass genes and conditioning to the next generation. The maxim that we are nine meals from annarchy remains.

If your children were starving to death, would you transcend simple survival logic? Not many would. I wouldn't.

Absolutely — and I wouldn’t either. I completely agree that in extremis, symbolic concerns dissolve quickly, and biology takes over.

But many of the most destructive or corrupt behaviours we see in politics or power structures don’t happen under starvation or desperation. They often happen in conditions of surplus, comfort, or security.

So why do people still act in ways that are reckless, vindictive, or self-sabotaging when survival is not on the line?

[Pattern-chaser]

You are right that there is an intuitive distinction between the "world out there" and our internal representations of it.

But if thoughts are real, then why draw the line at them being merely about the territory and not part of it, especially if they have causal power, shape action, and in turn, shape the world?

Maybe the distinction is not between real and not-real, but between different modes of being: the material, the mental, the social, the symbolic. And perhaps the “territory” is richer than just the physically extended — it might be everything that has being, not just what has extension.

Perhaps “map” and “territory” aren’t always separable — maybe sometimes, the map is a part of the territory too.

Aaaagggghhh! No. Whatever else is the case, our map(s) can never be part of the territory, by definition and description, and also by our understanding of what they both are. My/our understanding of map and territory is intuitive, but also much more than that.

The existence of map and territory, and the very clear and useful distinction between the two, is not intuitive. It was first explicitly described and defined by Alfred Korzybski. But Rene Magritte's painting of a pipe carries the same message, although simplified: "Ceci n'est pas une pipe".

There is plenty of material out there. Just type "map vs. territory" into your favourite search engine.

And why does this matter? There are quite a few meaty reasons, I think, but the simplest and easiest is that we sometimes get confused, and think that our maps — laws, rules, ideas, etc — govern or control the real world. We are tempted to think the the real world *must* follow our "Law of Gravity". No, the territory does what it does without our aid, and our thoughts or laws are wholly without power or authority.

The real world is the "territory", and it is always right. It is the Master, the Reference. Our maps comprise our various thoughts and ideas, and they are very much secondary to the territory; it cannot be otherwise.

So no, the map and the territory cannot be mixed up or confused, and one cannot become the other.

Korzybski's insight is undoubtedly useful — but isn't the very act of defining what counts as “map” and “territory” itself a conceptual framework? A meta-map, so to speak?

I would say no, not a framework. But perhaps a small part of such a framework?

In other words: when we say “the map is not the territory,” that’s not a brute fact about the world — it’s a philosophical claim about the world. A valuable one, yes, but still a claim made within a system of thought — a map.

This has nothing (directly) to do with "the world" — i.e. the territory — although it very much concerns the world indirectly. When we say "the map is not the territory", we seek only to acknowledge and distinguish the territory from our mental models of it; what we call our "maps".

Territory = the real, Objective, world.
Maps = our *understanding* of "the real, Objective, world".

[Sy Borg]

Some people value their own lives less than others. Some people value others' lives more than others. There's much variety within our ranks.

Reckless power grabs, betrayal, and corruption are strong survival-oriented strategies. Some people don't care if their behaviour endangers others, just as long as they personally benefit. It's been found that psychopaths are overrepresented in the halls of power. I think most of us have noticed that those at the top are not necessarily the best of us, but we can surely say they are all ruthless. You don't reach the top tiers of government without being ruthless, without having ways of making life hard for anyone who gets in your way.

Many African nations have large numbers of people suffering extreme poverty, but their leaders "somehow" become billionaires while they are in office. Human life is not entirely ordered or logical; there is a chaotic component.

Meanwhile, history shows us that society with weak hierarchies cannot develop the technology needed to compete with more hierarchic societies, that pool their resources to advantage.

There is no denying the reality of ruthless survival strategies, or how often they are rewarded in political and economic systems.

But perhaps this is where it gets even more complex: these behaviours do secure personal advantage in the short term, but they often undermine collective survival, destabilising institutions, economies, even the long-term viability of the species. So if we broaden “survival” to include societal or civilizational survival, then these strategies begin to look... self-defeating.

That is why I wonder whether we have moved beyond simple survival logic. When people pursue status, legacy, ideology, or revenge at the cost of long-term survival, maybe we are seeing the emergence of symbolic imperatives.

Very few have moved beyond simple survival logic. Historically, moving beyond survival logic meant survival less well and thus being less likely to pass genes and conditioning to the next generation. The maxim that we are nine meals from annarchy remains.

If your children were starving to death, would you transcend simple survival logic? Not many would. I wouldn't.

Absolutely — and I wouldn’t either. I completely agree that in extremis, symbolic concerns dissolve quickly, and biology takes over.

But many of the most destructive or corrupt behaviours we see in politics or power structures don’t happen under starvation or desperation. They often happen in conditions of surplus, comfort, or security.

So why do people still act in ways that are reckless, vindictive, or self-sabotaging when survival is not on the line?

It's competition. The world is a competitive place. You might point to cooperation, but that just means people coming together to form blocs that can compete better with other blocs. Individuals, of course, don't stand a chance against groups.

People today don't fight so much over what they can get today but over systems that determine what they can get in the future.

[Sushan]

You are right that there is an intuitive distinction between the "world out there" and our internal representations of it.

But if thoughts are real, then why draw the line at them being merely about the territory and not part of it, especially if they have causal power, shape action, and in turn, shape the world?

Maybe the distinction is not between real and not-real, but between different modes of being: the material, the mental, the social, the symbolic. And perhaps the “territory” is richer than just the physically extended — it might be everything that has being, not just what has extension.

Perhaps “map” and “territory” aren’t always separable — maybe sometimes, the map is a part of the territory too.

Aaaagggghhh! No. Whatever else is the case, our map(s) can never be part of the territory, by definition and description, and also by our understanding of what they both are. My/our understanding of map and territory is intuitive, but also much more than that.

The existence of map and territory, and the very clear and useful distinction between the two, is not intuitive. It was first explicitly described and defined by Alfred Korzybski. But Rene Magritte's painting of a pipe carries the same message, although simplified: "Ceci n'est pas une pipe".

There is plenty of material out there. Just type "map vs. territory" into your favourite search engine.

And why does this matter? There are quite a few meaty reasons, I think, but the simplest and easiest is that we sometimes get confused, and think that our maps — laws, rules, ideas, etc — govern or control the real world. We are tempted to think the the real world *must* follow our "Law of Gravity". No, the territory does what it does without our aid, and our thoughts or laws are wholly without power or authority.

The real world is the "territory", and it is always right. It is the Master, the Reference. Our maps comprise our various thoughts and ideas, and they are very much secondary to the territory; it cannot be otherwise.

So no, the map and the territory cannot be mixed up or confused, and one cannot become the other.

Korzybski's insight is undoubtedly useful — but isn't the very act of defining what counts as “map” and “territory” itself a conceptual framework? A meta-map, so to speak?

I would say no, not a framework. But perhaps a small part of such a framework?

In other words: when we say “the map is not the territory,” that’s not a brute fact about the world — it’s a philosophical claim about the world. A valuable one, yes, but still a claim made within a system of thought — a map.

This has nothing (directly) to do with "the world" — i.e. the territory — although it very much concerns the world indirectly. When we say "the map is not the territory", we seek only to acknowledge and distinguish the territory from our mental models of it; what we call our "maps".

Territory = the real, Objective, world.
Maps = our *understanding* of "the real, Objective, world".

The practical benefit of differentiating a map from a territory is something I do not dispute.

My argument, however, is more reflexive: the definition of "territory = objective world" and "map = mental model" already makes use of a map. It is a framework about the world rather than an unadulterated fact of it. Therefore, we run the risk of forgetting that the map–territory distinction is conceptual rather than ontologically neutral when we insist that it cannot be questioned.

[Sushan]

There is no denying the reality of ruthless survival strategies, or how often they are rewarded in political and economic systems.

But perhaps this is where it gets even more complex: these behaviours do secure personal advantage in the short term, but they often undermine collective survival, destabilising institutions, economies, even the long-term viability of the species. So if we broaden “survival” to include societal or civilizational survival, then these strategies begin to look... self-defeating.

That is why I wonder whether we have moved beyond simple survival logic. When people pursue status, legacy, ideology, or revenge at the cost of long-term survival, maybe we are seeing the emergence of symbolic imperatives.

Very few have moved beyond simple survival logic. Historically, moving beyond survival logic meant survival less well and thus being less likely to pass genes and conditioning to the next generation. The maxim that we are nine meals from annarchy remains.

If your children were starving to death, would you transcend simple survival logic? Not many would. I wouldn't.

Absolutely — and I wouldn’t either. I completely agree that in extremis, symbolic concerns dissolve quickly, and biology takes over.

But many of the most destructive or corrupt behaviours we see in politics or power structures don’t happen under starvation or desperation. They often happen in conditions of surplus, comfort, or security.

So why do people still act in ways that are reckless, vindictive, or self-sabotaging when survival is not on the line?

It's competition. The world is a competitive place. You might point to cooperation, but that just means people coming together to form blocs that can compete better with other blocs. Individuals, of course, don't stand a chance against groups.

People today don't fight so much over what they can get today but over systems that determine what they can get in the future.

That’s a great point — and I agree, the world is deeply competitive. And yes, much modern conflict is less about immediate gain than about shaping the rules of future distribution.

But I still wonder whether competition fully accounts for symbolic behaviour.

Think of whistleblowers, martyrs, revolutionaries, or even some artists. These aren’t always plays in a bigger competitive game — they sometimes look like refusals to play the game altogether.

[Sy Borg]

Very few have moved beyond simple survival logic. Historically, moving beyond survival logic meant survival less well and thus being less likely to pass genes and conditioning to the next generation. The maxim that we are nine meals from annarchy remains.

If your children were starving to death, would you transcend simple survival logic? Not many would. I wouldn't.

Absolutely — and I wouldn’t either. I completely agree that in extremis, symbolic concerns dissolve quickly, and biology takes over.

But many of the most destructive or corrupt behaviours we see in politics or power structures don’t happen under starvation or desperation. They often happen in conditions of surplus, comfort, or security.

So why do people still act in ways that are reckless, vindictive, or self-sabotaging when survival is not on the line?

It's competition. The world is a competitive place. You might point to cooperation, but that just means people coming together to form blocs that can compete better with other blocs. Individuals, of course, don't stand a chance against groups.

People today don't fight so much over what they can get today but over systems that determine what they can get in the future.

That’s a great point — and I agree, the world is deeply competitive. And yes, much modern conflict is less about immediate gain than about shaping the rules of future distribution.

But I still wonder whether competition fully accounts for symbolic behaviour.

Think of whistleblowers, martyrs, revolutionaries, or even some artists. These aren’t always plays in a bigger competitive game — they sometimes look like refusals to play the game altogether.

Sacrifices are the ultimate expression of an individual's sublimation into the collective. They make the sacrifices so their group can compete more effectively, like bees or certain castes of ants, which place the interests of the hive or nest above their lives. They are not eschewing the game, just playing different roles. We can avoid facing reality but we can't avoid the consequences of reality.

I'm not sure it's possible to avoid the game. Hermits can leave the games of collectives (if the collective is not too controlling), but they will have a different game, competing with predators, prey, insects and bacteria. For all its faults, there are good reasons why we put up with the BS of hierarchic societies. Those who didn't put up with it did not pass on their genes to the same extent as those who played along.

[Pattern-chaser]

My argument, however, is more reflexive: the definition of "territory = objective world" and "map = mental model" already makes use of a map.

I don't think it does. I think "map", in this context, is very like "boulder", a simple descriptive term invented for convenience, and carrying no more information than what it is descriptive *of*. Here, "map" says 'that's part of my world model, not part of the world, directly'.

[Sushan]

Absolutely — and I wouldn’t either. I completely agree that in extremis, symbolic concerns dissolve quickly, and biology takes over.

But many of the most destructive or corrupt behaviours we see in politics or power structures don’t happen under starvation or desperation. They often happen in conditions of surplus, comfort, or security.

So why do people still act in ways that are reckless, vindictive, or self-sabotaging when survival is not on the line?

It's competition. The world is a competitive place. You might point to cooperation, but that just means people coming together to form blocs that can compete better with other blocs. Individuals, of course, don't stand a chance against groups.

People today don't fight so much over what they can get today but over systems that determine what they can get in the future.

That’s a great point — and I agree, the world is deeply competitive. And yes, much modern conflict is less about immediate gain than about shaping the rules of future distribution.

But I still wonder whether competition fully accounts for symbolic behaviour.

Think of whistleblowers, martyrs, revolutionaries, or even some artists. These aren’t always plays in a bigger competitive game — they sometimes look like refusals to play the game altogether.

Sacrifices are the ultimate expression of an individual's sublimation into the collective. They make the sacrifices so their group can compete more effectively, like bees or certain castes of ants, which place the interests of the hive or nest above their lives. They are not eschewing the game, just playing different roles. We can avoid facing reality but we can't avoid the consequences of reality.

I'm not sure it's possible to avoid the game. Hermits can leave the games of collectives (if the collective is not too controlling), but they will have a different game, competing with predators, prey, insects and bacteria. For all its faults, there are good reasons why we put up with the BS of hierarchic societies. Those who didn't put up with it did not pass on their genes to the same extent as those who played along.

Yes, often sacrifice is understood as contributing to something larger than the self.

But does this characterisation capture human sacrifice in a meaningful way?

When people willingly choose to suffer, or willingly choose death, for a cause, or expose themselves to exile or imprisonment by revealing damaging information, are they simply flipping a coin?

What about an enlisted soldier who disobeys an unlawful order?

What do we say about a monk who lights himself on fire?

What do we say about an artist who, by refusing to go along with the pack, or compromised his or her own success in order to hold true to the message?

Each appears to suggest a different kind of logic.