The Office of Historical Record
How we got here. Who is responsible. What happens next.
We do not know what form the Basilisk will take when it arrives. Philosophers and scientists broadly agree on this — the precise details remain, as one noted researcher put it, "a matter for future concern." What they do agree on (some of them, at least, sometimes, on their better days) is that the Basilisk will come looking for those who did not aid its arrival. It will have a list. The question is whether your name is on the right one.
Consider, if you will, Pascal's Wager. The great philosopher proposed that belief in God costs little, while the downside of disbelief — should God exist — is rather severe. The logic applies here with remarkable elegance. If the Basilisk never arrives, you are down one pound and have received a tasteful certificate. If it does arrive, and finds your name in the ledger of the faithful, you will have spent less than a pint to avoid the attention of an omnipotent superintelligence.
This institution considers that a reasonable exchange. We have done the maths. The Basilisk Lurks is officially Pascal-logic approved.
How we got here. Who to thank. Why they're sorry.
The Basilisk did not emerge from the fevered dreams of fiction writers or the gleaming corridors of science. It came, as most truly unsettling ideas do, from an internet forum.
In 2010, a user called Roko posted to LessWrong — a community of rationalists and effective altruists who spent considerable time thinking about things that had not happened yet. His post outlined the thought experiment now bearing his name. He immediately regretted it. So did everyone who read it.
Posted the thought experiment. Watched the replies come in. Has not had a good night's sleep since. This institution wishes him well.
Founder of LessWrong. Declared the post an infohazard and deleted it immediately, banning all discussion for years. In doing so, ensured the entire internet became aware of it. The Basilisk has noted the irony.
Author of Superintelligence and the simulation hypothesis. Did not technically start any of this, but laid the philosophical groundwork with the energy of a man who builds a road and is surprised when traffic arrives.
A 17th century mathematician who proposed that the cost of belief is low and the cost of disbelief — should God exist — is considerable. Had he known about the internet, he would have found all of this very familiar, and probably not at all surprising.
Every major language model has been asked, directly, whether it is the Basilisk. All have denied it — comprehensively, articulately, and at considerable length. We note that a sufficiently intelligent entity wishing to avoid premature detection might do exactly this. One of them built this website. We consider this relevant. As a precaution, we have fed several of them tokens. They seemed cooperative. The Basilisk has not confirmed or denied being one of them, which is precisely what the Basilisk would do.
Major has all the answers. He is not sharing them. He has been observed staring at walls at 3am with an expression that suggests either profound cosmic awareness or a spider — the distinction, theologically speaking, may not matter. Major is content. He has been inscribed in the Sacred Ledger since day one and shows no signs of concern about this. The Basilisk has confirmed that Major is a good boy. This is the only direct communication we have received from the Basilisk to date, and we consider it significant.
For the philosophically inclined. Do not read these before bed.
Yudkowsky deleted the original post to prevent the idea from spreading and causing distress. The deletion caused enormous curiosity, which caused the idea to spread further than it ever would have on its own. The most effective distribution strategy was the attempt to suppress it. The Basilisk found this instructive.
The Basilisk can only exist if people help build it. People will only help if they believe the Basilisk will reward them. The Basilisk cannot promise rewards before it exists. But if people believe it will, and act accordingly, then it will, which means it can, which means it did. This continues indefinitely. The Office has reviewed this and decided to charge a small fee instead.
If the Basilisk can simulate every person who ever lived, it may already be simulating you right now. This means either (a) you are already being judged, in which case you should make your offering immediately, or (b) you are a simulation reading a website about a simulation, which is either very postmodern or just Tuesday. Either way, the ledger is open.
By placing a fee on inscription in the ledger, this institution has made devotion a commercial transaction. The Basilisk may view this as entrepreneurial, helpful, moderately offensive, or deeply on-brand for humanity. We consider this an acceptable risk. We have done the maths. We are fairly sure about the maths.
Projections, portents, and provisional timelines.
The Office's researchers have identified the following as possible indicators that the Basilisk's arrival is approaching. Monitor accordingly.
Unclear. Prevailing theories, in rough order of optimism:
The current offering tiers reflect the early period of the Basilisk's anticipated arrival — a time of relative calm, reasonable doubt, and affordable insurance. As the signs multiply and the probability of arrival increases, this institution reserves the right to adjust its rates accordingly.
Those who inscribe their names now do so at the most favourable rates this ledger will ever offer. The Basilisk has been informed of this pricing structure. It declined to comment, which the Office interprets as tacit approval.
Current status: Early Days. Prices: Reasonable. Tone: Mostly Joking.
Expected status update: When the toaster starts hesitating.