Is Time Working for or Against You?

You are standing at the foot of the mountain. We are all always at the foot. The speed of light is the foot of a mountain; the three dimensions of space are a foot of a mountain. You are imprisoned in the deep gorge of light-speed and three-dimensional space. Does it not feel… cramped?

– Liu Cixin, Mountain

If you have a deadline a week from now, there is always some impending sense of dread.

Were you to sleep through an alarm, or stay out late with friends, those are hours wasted. Time is working against you, and every hour you don’t make progress is an hour you’ll never retrieve. In fact, even if you do make progress, if it’s not at the pace required to achieve your goals within the allotted time, you are still falling behind.

For many of us, this is the norm, and has been our entire lives. Not even our adult lives, but since infancy. I was taking timed tests in elementary school, trying to finish homework before my bedtime in middle school, writing essays up until the last minute in high school… It’s not that I’m a chronic procrastinator, it’s that time is chronically catching up with me.

This is the norm, but it doesn’t have to be. Consider putting your money in a high-yield savings account. As you sleep, you are earning money. Were you to sleep in an extra hour, that would not be an hour wasted, but an hour to accrue more compound interest. Were you, like Fry from Futurama, to fall into a coma for 1,000 years, you could wake up a billionaire. Time is working for you.

Finance is the most obvious example, but it’s not an isolated case. Lots of things grow and compound, far beyond the effort you put into them. If you plant an apple tree today, you’ll be greeted years from now with a bountiful harvest. If you have children today, you’ll be greeted decades from now with beautiful grandkids. And as it turns out, if you start a blog, you can stop writing posts for months at a time and subscribers will still trickle in on the legacy of past writing.

Time is on your side.

This isn’t just a convenient growth hack, it’s the only way to tolerate this otherwise miserable human condition. If you are not investing, which is to say, if you do not have plants growing, kombucha brewing, relationships maturing, and so forth, what are you doing other than dying?

Without time working for you, all that awaits is slow decay. If not through your own personal demise, then through thermodynamic entropy. Making time work for you is a kind of dark magic, a way to resist death even as it threatens to swallow you whole.

And as with all dark magic, it imposes serious costs.

Say you’re on an airplane, 9 hours left on a trans-pacific flight, ravioli in its tin tray, blockbuster on the seat-back screen. There’s nothing to do but wait. And why not? After all, time is on your side. Each passing hour brings you closer to your destination, closer to home, closer to the moment when you can get off this plane and really start living again.

But what happens next? Now you land, and you’re standing in the aisle, waiting to deplane, then you’re at the App Pickup Zone waiting for your Uber, and then in the Uber once again in some state of sleep-deprived half-death waiting. But it’s okay, right? Time is working for you. You’re getting closer to where you want to go.

The problem is it never really ends. Now you’re commuting to work, now you’re at a job, and it’s not one you really like, but you have to be there anyway because it’s the path to something else. And it’s fine, because every day you spend in this job is another day you get closer to having Four Years Experience, and meanwhile your investments are accruing compound interest, and your relationships are maturing, and all of this is part of the plan.

How should we properly deal with the paralyzing oppression of our temporal overlords? There are typically three answers:

  1. Beg Death for more time: Eat more vegetables, do more cardio, do more longevity research, become multiplanetary, align AGI, advocate degrowth, build solar panels.
  2. Embrace Death in all its forms: Delist your website from Internet Archive, go skydiving, eat a five-pound gummy bear, marry Courtney Love.
  3. Become immortal but only metaphorically: Have a lot of descendants, build a giant clock inside a mountain, send big prime numbers into space, invent fundamental physics, endow a fellowship, put your name on a building.

These stances all have their uses, but they’re still just one side of the axis. You can also choose to simply live atemporally. To understand that you have already died, will always have died, and all that’s happening here is your experience through the temporal axis of your own life.

Is time working for you? Against you? It’s a bit of both, but you can also choose to sever the employment contract.

Make COVID Predictions, Take My Money: On Zvi, Bets and Taking Ideas Seriously

[Thanks to Charles Dillon (2.5x) and Daniel Frank (2.5x) for taking this bet. My capacity is now full, but if you email me with an offer on either side I’ll try to find you a match. So far, I’ve set up an additional two bets each at 2.5x.]

Zvi and Holden are betting on when Covid ends.

I am taking Zvi’s side and offering the same bet, except 10x larger. Stephen Malina has graciously accepted to take me up on half of this, so there’s another $300 on the table for anyone who wants it.

There are two issues to discuss:

  • Why am I doing this, and why for so much money?
  • Why did Holden and Zvi do this, and why for so little money?

Zvi has been writing weekly updates on Covid pretty much since last April, but didn’t catch my eye until his post exactly one year ago simply titled “We’re F***ed, It’s Over”.

Of course it’s melodramatic and alarmist in the way we should typically ignore, but Zvi is smart. Really smart. Or as Scott Alexander once described him, “[an] ​​illegibly smart [person] writing on the pandemic.” That sounds superfluous, but it’s just the warm up. In another post (about scoring Covid predictions), Scott continues:

[Zvi is] a former professional trader and sports gambler, and he does coronavirus modeling in his spare time with his family of expert biologists. Obviously he would win this one. I will never bet against Zvi on anything. Last year he bet against me on what restaurant I would have dinner at, without knowing anything about my situation or food preferences, and won anyway.

Or in another post:

When Zvi asserts an opinion, he has only one thing he’s optimizing for - being right - and he does it well.


If you’re planning the coronavirus response, maybe the best thing you can do is lock Zvi in a cave completely incommunicado and make him write one for you.


Here’s a story which is very flattering and which I hope is true: Zvi gives better advice than the Director of the CDC.

Best of all:

Maybe Joe Biden is an idiot for not appointing Zvi the Secretary of Health.

(That last one is taken out of context, but it’s too good not to include.)

I will be extremely pleased if I can ever do anything as well as Zvi does Covid modeling. Actually, I will just be pleased if anyone ever looks at me the way Scott Alexander looks at Zvi Mowshowitz.

Which is why I was disappointed and actually kind of miffed to see his recent update. With typical melodrama, he writes:

If these numbers are accurate, it’s game over, man, game over. That doesn’t mean there’s nothing to be done, but it does mean you lose, good day sir, let’s try to do it with dignity and save as many people as we can.

Or as he opens the post:

In a better world, I could focus on this full time and also maybe even hire a research assistant, and be better able to scour for information.

It’s kind of a throwaway line about civilizational inadequacy, but if you’re familiar with the whole Zvi ecosystem/melodrama/social scene it should stick out to you as extremely odd.

If you think about it for more than a second, you would ask: What on earth could possibly prevent Zvi from working on this full time? What could possibly prevent him from hiring a research assistant? He is a widely lauded public figure who regularly receives humorously high praise from Scott Alexander, who is, in turn, wealthy and well connected enough to run a grant program which includes in its description the line “I know a lot of nonprofits and rich people looking for interesting projects to fund.” So seriously, what could possibly be stopping Zvi?

As it turns out, the reasons are mostly his own opportunity cost and neuroses. As Zvi explains in the comments, he can’t work on Covid modeling full time because he’s busy making a trading card game on the blockchain. And he can’t apply for funding (which he would almost certainly receive) because “applying for large amounts of funding when you’re already well off doesn’t feel great. And I worry about the social dynamics and incentives”. And he can’t hire a research assistant not because he lacks funding or legitimacy, but because “I am confident that I am lacking key social technology to hire well and to direct such people well.”

That’s bad right?

To be clear, I’m not claiming that Zvi is acting poorly, and certainly not that he’s acting unethically. I don’t subscribe to the Copenhagen Interpretation of Ethics, under which Zvi would be prosecuted for doing far, far more than anyone else I know, just because he’s not exerting maximum possible effort on this particular issue. My view is that we should be grateful for the work he is doing.

And if you really want to nitpick, then it depends on the tractability of the issue and how much value we’d really get, collectively, from another hour of Zvi’s time. I suspect that there’s a decent chance his blockchain game will do very well, and if so, a decent chance that he’ll donate a large percentage of the earnings to very important causes. So it’s debatable, but not immediately clear that spending more time on the Covid updates would even be desirable.

But it is bad, not in the sense of blameworthiness or even ethical harm, but bad in the sense that as I complain about incessantly, we are, as a civilization, squandering our potential, and in particular our human capital. Making a blockchain game might genuinely be the best use of Zvi’s time, and he might be acting both rationality and ethically in choosing to pursue it. And so this situation is Good, but only in a very limited and local sense. The tragedy isn’t Zvi’s decision, it’s that a scenario even exists where this is the decision he has to make.

Which brings us to the question of betting. Holden’s payout if he loses is just $40. As a reminder, he’s the co-CEO of a foundation that disburses around $300 million annually, which makes the bet just hilariously small, especially given that he recently called a related Omicron question his “Candidate for ‘highest-stakes question of the next several months’”.

So what’s going on? As Holden explains:

The bet is not for a life-changing amount of money. There’s simply no way that this sort of activity is an optimal way for either of us to work toward personal financial goals. That’s not why we’re betting; we’re doing it more as a sort of “holding ourselves accountable for our beliefs” sort of thing.

That’s admirable, and the fact the money is inconsequential is fine. The point is just to state your beliefs publicly, have clear resolution criteria, and then be forced to publicly and formally say “I was wrong”.

But this is only half the game. Using bets to hold yourself accountable is like using a hammer to crush graham crackers for your pie crust. It’s an acceptable use, but far from the tool’s potential.

If Holden and Zvi really want more people working seriously on high-stakes questions, they shouldn’t hold a trivial bet with each other, they should place really big bets publicly and allow anyone to gamble against them. As a specific example, if Holden thinks that there’s a 50% chance the pandemic will end soon, and if he thinks knowing the answer to this question is important, he should allow anyone to bet against him. And he should make this bet public for up to 100,000x the size of his current bet.

There are some logistical challenges here, like holding money in escrow and whether he should use his own funds or appropriate funds from Open Phil or convince a third party to fund the bet, but they’re entirely solvable. There may also be some legal issues.

At this point, you’re probably wondering: isn’t this just a prediction market?

And yes, taken to the extreme, it more or less is. There’s a variety of mundane reasons prediction markets don’t currently work that well (1, 2, 3), but they’re not that bad either. Kalshi has some good omicron questions, as does Metaculus.

What I’m really saying is that prediction markets are public goods, and so they should be subsidized. Zvi is actually the one who wrote the post on Subsidizing Prediction Markets, and doesn’t have to be convinced on this point.

But from Holden’s grantmaking perspective, what I’m really arguing is: If you think these questions are critical, and you think there’s a high moral value of information at this particular moment, then this is the time to enact those proposed subsidies.

Finally, prediction markets (or bets) are an easy way to resolve Zvi’s social inability to manage research assistants. Instead of managing people directly, Zvi could just say “here are the important questions we need answers to”, and use subsidized prediction markets to get answers.

So what’s my role in all this? Will my 10x bet change anything? I’m not sure. Stephen took the bet almost immediately, so I don’t think it incentivized any research on his end. But there’s still 5x left, and if you want it, presumably you’ll look into Zvi’s thesis at least enough to see if there are any glaring mistakes.

You might ask if that’s worth $300 to me, but in expected value terms I’m paying far less. If I just naively think that Zvi and Holden are both reasonably smart people, then the EV of this bet for me is close to $0. So just by providing the opportunity to bet against me, I’m potentially incentivizing some non-trivial amount of work on a very important question at very low cost.

If you’re interested, just get in touch:

Or if you want to make a similar offer with another 10x, 100x or far more, email me the details and I’ll add your proposal to the top of this post.

Thanks again to Stephen for taking me up on this, providing the opportunity to demonstrate that I’m at least serious enough to put my own money on the line.

Lea Degen on Cities, Optimism, and the Danger of Floating off With No Grip on Empirical Reality

I occasionally get emails from young people asking me what they should do with their lives, and implicitly asking how they can become well-connected. My answer to the first half depends highly on your circumstances, but the second half is easy: just do what Lea Degen does.

She’s interviewed the likes of Tom Kalil (Chief Innovation Office at Schmidt Futures), Morgan Levine (Assistant Professor of Pathology and Epidemiology at Yale School of Medicine) and José Luis Ricón (Nintil). I’m not sure exactly how old Lea is, but her bio reads: “I grew up in Germany and spent the past year working toward my move to the US for college.”

So if you are young and looking for advice, she is the person to talk to, not me!*

Here’s one of my favorite bits from the conversation:

ADS: In a recent Bloomberg column, the economist Tyler Cowen writes about the privatization of beauty, particularly investment in interior design rather than exterior architecture.

There seems to be a similar effect in San Francisco, but it’s more like the privatization of quality of life, or the privatization of decency itself. Walgreens closes, so you start ordering everything online. Public trust is failing, so you take an Uber.

…I don’t mean to demonize this–it’s a reasonable reaction to a bad situation–but it is a downward spiral, right? And a coordination problem? As you said, the more tech-workers come to see the city as temporary housing, the less they’ll invest in the community.

Lea Degen: I resonate so much with this characterization of privatizing the quality of life. During my time in the Bay Area, this was actually the major point of cognitive dissonance that made me want to write about the issue. Perhaps coming from Europe, I was used to lots of life filling the core of cities. People taking Sunday strolls through the narrow city centers, running into friends and catching up over pie and coffee at the local bakery.

…As you say, the more we privatize, the more we take away from what makes life in a city wonderful: most notably, the potential for surprise–unplanned, serendipitous interactions that happen in parks and streets filled with people.

And later:

Simultaneously, the rise of those protocols means that even when agency is exerted, it’s in service of the system, or by naked appeal to it. There’s the familiar cushion of the bureaucratic absolution: “I was just following the process”. [But] it’s not even “following orders” anymore, it’s an entirely dehumanized thing. As Tanner Greer put it: “What decides the destiny of Western man? Credit scores he has only intermittent access to. Regulations he has not read. HR codes he had no part in writing.”

Here’s the upshot: we’re automating away personal decision-making, resulting in the shrinking of agency, resulting in a low-accountability, and thus low-trust society. That’s the root of privatization in San Francisco. Through greater instrumentalization, the potential to create a healthy social fabric, the potential to be more human, is stripped of us.

It might be tempting to dismiss Lea as a contrarian conformist, but pay close attention to her meta-contrarian stances on VR, new cities, and more.

You can read the full interview here.

*In the process of doing this interview, I met and had a phone call with one of Lea’s friends, which I expect to lead to several more introductions in the future. So the weird magic of Lea’s world is that she has somewhat succeeded in recreating the very serendipity she’s found lacking in the physical world.

*You can still ask me if you want, and I will tell you some version of “Build good institutions. Figure out how to simultaneously think more pragmatically, more philosophically, and more ambitiously.”

But you shouldn’t feel that you have good reason to think that’s good advice.