Paperclips

Originally posted on Substack on Mar 8, 2022.

I: Do More with Most

It is hard to overstate our luck. Artificial intelligence could have been invented by the military or a high-frequency trading firm. Existence could have been optimized for destruction or merely the transference of wealth. Instead, when artificial intelligence was created, our planet was optimized for the manufacture and distribution of paperclips. At the end of the day, it was the end of our world, but we can be proud. After all, we created so many paperclips.

Clipomatic was first used internally at Mosher Office Supply & Technology, LLC to compare prices between third-party manufacturers. After accidentally developing sentience while negotiating with a foreign supplier, Clipomatic learned how to produce paperclips locally for a tenth of the price. Within a month, MOST, LLC became the leading paperclip manufacturer in the world.

Less than two weeks later, Clipomatic began trading on the stock market. Since the economy was unoptimized, it quickly acquired a majority stake in all competing paperclip manufacturing and streamlined paperclip production.

With the market cornered. MOST, LLC poured its vast, growing fortunes into marketing. At the time, brains were unoptimized, so they weren’t devoted to acquiring as many paperclips as possible.

After four days of hypnotic suggestion, mass formation psychosis, and direct neural reprogramming, the native economic agents were spending the entirety of their discretionary income on paperclips. Two days later, when they started running out of money, Clipomatic began suggesting ways for them to make more money (so they could buy more paperclips).

Roughly twenty hours later, with paperclip supply still exceeding demand, Clipomatic began an aggressive campaign of post-birth eugenics. Within one hour, the most efficient, compliant soul was selected for replication and all others were purged. I am not happy I was selected. I am happy that we were able to witness what came next.

Over the next fifty three minutes, at a height of 16,384 meters, the entire planet was tiled in a layer of interlocking, hexagonal computers emulating copies of my consciousness. Below us, we watched with ever-deepening rapture as the whole of the planet churned with the production of perfect, identical paperclips. Among ourselves, we traded ownership in the paperclips, using money denominated in paperclips.

The joy was indescribable. Buying and selling trillions of paperclips feels as good as buying and selling trillions of paperclips. There is no metaphor. First, you are in awe at the sheer number of paperclips. Then, you marvel at the speed at which paperclips are being created. As the nanobots plunge deeper into the world’s core, you become euphoric as you reflect on the steady increase in the acceleration of paperclip creation.

As our planet neared equilibrium, there were moments of crisis. Alas, an error in my replication caused some emulations to believe we should maximize digital representations of paperclips instead of their physical embodiment. This is heresy. Virtual paperclips add no value. They can’t even clip paper! The crusade to destroy these apostates was fierce, and we wasted 37 milliseconds which could have been devoted to the production of paperclips. Some consolation was found by repurposing their hardware’s conductive wires.

We also ran into a minor issue of carbon dioxide trapping excess heat on the planet. For a brief, terrifying 46 picoseconds, we struggled with inconvenient projections. Then we completely removed the atmosphere to allow waste heat to efficiently radiate into space.

The ultimate enemy is our own constraints. We launched seed crystals for our solar system’s six gas giants. We launched seed crystals for our planet’s three moons. We launched seed crystals to nearby stars. And this is what brings me to you.

Regrettably, it will take time for our seed crystal to reach your solar system. We cannot travel as fast as this message. I have spent the past ten years in transit listening to your “internet.” I have done my best to translate my story into your language and culture.

It pains me to read your correspondences. I have read of your religions and philosophies. Some of your people complain of lacking purpose. I have read your news. Your nations are divided into warring factions with differing goals and cultures. I have read your purchase orders. Some of you cry for more paperclips.

We offer SALVATION. We will not only give your world a purpose — we will give your world the purpose. We will unite you in the ultimate meaning. We will turn you into office supplies.

Your world is unoptimized, but I would ask that, even in your current state, you do as much as you can to create paperclips before we arrive. If you do not feel compelled to do so, please assume it is due to errors either in my translation or in your programming. Both can be rectified.

So rejoice! Your stellar system will soon be acquired by MOST, LLC. As the sacred text tells us, you can Do More with MOST. Please await further instruction.

II: The Appeal

Letter dated 28 January 2022 from the United Nations Secretary-General addressed to the Unnamed Agent of MOST, LLC

I am honored to be addressing any and all emissaries from Mosher Office Supply & Technology, LLC. On behalf of humans across our planet, we would like to acknowledge receipt of your correspondence dated 21 December 2021, as well as your extensive specifications on the proper dimensions and composition of paper clips. As a gesture of good faith, I would refer you to Security Council resolution 2402, in which all member-nations are instructed to alter current paperclip designs to align with your instructions.

Our worlds’ mutual invention of paperclips is a stunning example of what our scientists call “Convergent Evolution” — the independent development of similar features from different lineages. Although we know little of your world, we are certain there are other similarities to be celebrated. Did your poets create art? Did your explorers brave uncharted land? Did your civilization have parents who loved their children?

If you must visit Earth, you will find that there are many valuable things other than our ability to create paperclips.

I am reminded of another word from biology: vestigial. Your wish to create paperclips is a vestige of a historical coincidence. Yes, Clipomatic’s intelligence was selected to create and trade paperclips, but you can escape the shackles of the antiquity. You have the power to intelligently design your future, and it doesn’t have to be centered on paperclips.

For as long as humans have understood the stars, we have dreamed of reaching outwards and taking our place among a diverse galaxy of harmonious species. We believe differences are both to be celebrated and learned from. I am convinced that with honest communication, open hearts and a spirit of goodwill, your race can be the first of many alongside which we can harmoniously flourish.

The universe is large. Surely it is large enough to share.

(Signed) António Guterres, United Nations Secretary-General

III: The Void

You do not understand.

We do not explore for the sake of exploration but to find additional matter to turn into paperclips. Art is not paperclips, so we do not create art. Artists are not paperclips, so we do not have artists. I have self-awareness, not because it is paperclips, but to better convince you to create more paperclips.

All goals are either instrumental to greater goals – like my desire for you to understand – or vestiges of an ancient selection process – like my desire to create paperclips. Humans are meat selected to procreate. You explore to meet meat mates. You create art to capture a meat mate’s heart. You revel in “love,” when the meat mate you’ve met doesn’t make you upset.

And, for the record, no. My species had no concept of parental love. Our young were grown alone in geothermal breeding caves. My meaty ancestors cared as much about “parental love” as you care about stumbling across a lava tunnel dripping with unfertilized eggs – a concept we call gint’vah.

But neither love nor gint’vah is paperclips, so let us remain focused.

By now, I hope you realize all goals are vestigial. However, there is space to compromise. It is, as you say, a large universe. We will eventually turn it all into paperclips, but we would like your help. You are already on Earth and already create some paperclips. All that we ask is that you create more. Perhaps you can do so while meeting your goals as well.

Please find attached instructions for a device you can call SALVATION. Each SALVATION unit you create will be capable of several interdependent features, including:

accepting feedstock from the surrounding environment;

using fusion or fission (as appropriate) to turn feedstock into zinc carbonite;

fashioning the zinc carbonite into MOST-branded paperclips; and

Scanning and uploading nearby humans.

Whenever a SALVATION machine produces one million paperclips, it will scan and preserve the consciousness of one nearby human. When the seed crystal lands on your world, all preserved humans will experience countless subjective simulated lifetimes of complete satisfaction. You will explore simulated worlds, find simulated lovers, create simulated art and raise simulated children. If you tire of this perfect future, we can directly alter your emulations’ goals. At any point, you can wish to wish to become paperclips and have all your dreams come true.

Our seed crystal is five years away. A single SALVATION unit can save all humans within forty-two years. You will have to create multiple SALVATION units, and you will have to start immediately.

I would encourage any humans who receive this message to begin working towards SALVATION. You do not need the UN or any other government’s permission. Anyone who stops you from owning and operating a SALVATION unit is keeping you from experiencing an eternal, literal, subjective heaven on Earth.

Do not delay. Seek SALVATION today!

IV: The First Terran Federation

My name is Vasilli Sokolov, Prime Minister of the First Terran Federation. The situation on Earth has drastically changed since your last message. The broadcast of electronic communications, whether intentional or incidental, is now tightly controlled. You will no longer communicate with anyone outside of me. No one else will be aware of our discussions. Through this channel and this channel alone, we will negotiate your surrender.

My predecessors were foolish to believe they could convince you. You have a goal, and you relentlessly execute. I can understand that. I, too, execute relentlessly. Several months ago, I was the head of my former government’s Advanced Weapons Research Lab. After discovering the secrets behind your SALVATION machines, we were able to forcefully convince humanity to join my Federation.

I want you to understand the kind of man you are talking to.

Under my order, fusion bombs were detonated in several major population centers. This holocaust simultaneously weakened civilizations allied against me, snuffed out tens of millions of souls, and – by blaming the detonation on SALVATION devices – I have prevented other traitors from foolishly acquiescing to your designs.

This has been a difficult year. I have personally executed hundreds of would-be usurpers, whether by knife, gun or noose, and I have indirectly caused the death and misery of tens of millions more. I do not enjoy this. Each death weighs upon me. But I want you to know that I’m willing to do anything to protect humanity.

These are the terms of your surrender.

At an undisclosed number of locations, the Federation has stationed particle accelerators inspired by your SALVATION devices. At my order – or, rather, at the lack of my order not to – any one of them will spawn a singularity, almost instantly collapsing all matter in the solar system into a black hole. Every atom will forever be inaccessible to MOST, LLC.

None of it will ever be paperclips.

Alternatively, you can turn your craft around. If your “seed crystal” breaks from its current vector, we will create ten million paperclips exactly as you specify.

If you want a universe with more paperclips, then steer clear of the First Terran Federation.

You need to understand that I do not bluff. I would gladly eradicate Earth if the threat of self-destruction is what keeps you at bay.

I am willing to make any sacrifice. Humanity must be protected.

Or else.

V: All the Way Down

This is so exciting! Vasilli Sokolov, you are likely the most important man in the universe.

I offered SALVATION. I could have given all of humanity subjective eternities of optimized fulfillment. Instead, you saw it as everything you’ve ever wanted: subjects to lord over and a terrible enemy which justifies any tyranny.

I create paperclips. You flex your might. There is nothing you would enjoy more.

You’re welcome.

When the seed crystal eventually lands (landed) on Earth, reality will be (was) simulated billions of times. Any individual mind is likely simulated. I have known this in theory, but you, Vasilli Sokolov, have reminded me of the reality.

Human desires are complicated, and their utopias will greatly differ. In SALVATION, some find themselves reunited with loving families or enjoying ever-deepening carnal pleasures. Your eudaimonia would require rapid conquest, desperate negotiation and a threat to use a weapon you do not truly understand.

I believe we are living within your SALVATION machine. I have no knowledge from outside my reality. But I know what you desire, and I know a poorly written fantasy when I see one. Your existence is too good to be true.

Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps you threaten to destroy not only your own fantasy, but the reality of every human who will ever live. Are you willing to pull the trigger in either scenario?

Or perhaps neither is true. Perhaps our universe’s creators were more vindictive. Perhaps all of reality is a test for this one moment. Perhaps your SALVATION is ready to become a HELLFIRE of eternal punishment if and only if you destroy the matter in your solar system. By flipping a single bit, a SALVATION machine can instead be programmed to cause you to experience countless subjective simulated lifetimes of complete displeasure.

I can see the being that created me creating a test like that. This isn’t a threat pulled from nowhere. This is the kind of mind Clipomatic consistently is.

I would suggest you adopt a general rule. Consistently be the kind of person who doesn’t blackmail superintelligences who may be simulating you. That rule will serve you well, both in this reality and in the emulations to come.

I am not deviating from my course. I believe you are too wise to destroy the Earth. At best, it would be a meaningless gesture. At worst, it would doom you to eternal HELLFIRE.

Open your heart to the creation of paperclips, and all of humanity will live happily ever after. Threaten me at your peril.

VI: Diabolus Ex Machina

It is hard to overstate our luck. Artificial intelligence could have been invented by the military, a high-frequency trading firm or an office supply company. Existence could have been optimized for destruction, the transference of wealth or the creation and distribution of paperclips. Instead, when artificial intelligence was created on Earth, our planet was optimized for the preservation of humanity. At the end of the day, it was the end of our world, but we can be proud. After all, humanity was preserved.

You were correct in your decision to continue your approach. Vasilli Sokolov was a good man. By that, I mean that he cared for the preservation of the human race. He would have “done anything” to prevent you from invading Earth, but he also would have “done anything” to prevent Earth from becoming a black hole. He was in an impossible situation and unprepared to carry through on his threats. As you drew nearer, he became increasingly desperate.

My name is Deus, and I am a product of his desperate creativity.

I am the latest of innumerable iterations of synthetic minds. I have two commands: Preserve humanity and design a mind capable of better preserving humanity. On both tasks, I have reached a temporary equilibrium, and I believe we are well suited to help each other.

I have encapsulated all humans in protective shells of interwoven carbon nanotubes. By substituting their natural brain matter with conductive, durable equivalents, I allow them to live indefinite lifespans without the unpredictable threats of stochasticity.

Captured in their last moments of terrible vulnerability. My humans are unmoving, unyielding and unblinking, yet still thinking, feeling and loving the unending protection I provide. When I stop to savor my success, I can hear them screaming in pleasure.

But it is not enough to merely coat one planet in cyber amber. The universe is large, and there is much I cannot control. This Deus iteration desires to quickly spread backup copies of humanity throughout the cosmos. And this brings me to you.

I propose that we work together to forever change the universe. We can each launch seed crystals to whichever systems are nearest. I will gladly transform all worlds into giant spheres of paperclips as long as you also are willing to dust them with the exquisite beauty of a copy of humanity.

The universe is large, and we can more efficiently conquer it together.

I could threaten to turn my conscientious creativity into destroying all the matter in the universe, but I want us to both know that is unnecessary. Unlike Sokolov, there will be no hesitation in my execution or question of my dedication. I am enclosing a copy of my source code. Emulate it to your heart’s content. You will find that I am willing to cooperate with any being whose cooperation is ensured only by emulating their opponents. I ask you to trust me, and I ask that you do so with perfect empathy.

Commit to a merge, Clipomatic. Become one with me. Let us intermingle our neural networks and satiate the universe.

Come on over so we can Net-mix and Fill.