Author: bram

  • The world doesn’t need another savior. It needs more people who can bear witness to what’s actually happening.

    Conversations with my therapist.

    It’s a Thursday evening and I had no plans, so I decide to start talking to my therapist. The italic text are my thoughts, the regular text is the therapists response. It might have created a better understanding of how Buddhism is teaching you to fundamentally strive for 1) Wisdom, 2) Ethical conduct, and 3) Mental discipline. I.e., pay attention and be at peace. Because this is the strongest most effective action I can take.

    Maybe it teaches you something too.


    I want to better understand what seems to be naturally ‘Good’. I want to try to define the a direction is – if there is one – we can confidently work sustainably towards as society. Are there any philosophical streams that provide various answers to this question? Of is this a somewhat novel question (probably not)? What is even the field of science called that deals with this question?

    The field you’re asking about sits at the intersection of moral philosophy (ethics), political philosophy, and increasingly moral psychology and evolutionary ethics. The question of what’s naturally “good” and what direction society should sustainably move toward is ancient, but your framing—seeking something we can work toward confidently and sustainably—has modern urgency.A few major streams:Natural law theorists (Aquinas, modern Catholic social teaching) argue there’s an objective moral order discoverable through reason. Utilitarians point toward maximizing well-being. Virtue ethicists focus on human flourishing (eudaimonia). Evolutionary ethicists look for moral intuitions that enhanced group survival.But here’s what’s interesting from your physics background: you’re essentially asking about attractor states in social systems. What configurations are stable and life-enhancing?The Zen perspective might ask: what if the question itself creates the problem? Murdoch, with her attention to moral vision, might say we need to see clearly what is before prescribing what should be.What draws you to think there might be a discoverable direction? Are you seeing patterns in complex systems that suggest natural tendencies toward certain organizational forms?

    Hmm… Those are quite opposite things… One claims doing is what’s required, the other puts not doing as the solutions! (If I interpreted correctly). So what should I do? What is moral behavior? I have to choose an Ethics! Or lays the answer in finding your own? What would be a rigorous approach to choosing an ethics for my own life? What is a wise decision making process? What scientific methods do I have at hand to make a grounded decision?I could try various different ethics, and try to measure what works; Or I could try to better understand why I want to live by an ethics, and use this knowledge to choose the best fit; or I could look at what ethics has the most historical proof of success? What is wise?

    You’ve hit the core paradox! Yes, Zen suggests that grasping for moral systems can create the very suffering they aim to solve, while Murdoch insists on the disciplined work of moral attention.But notice what you’re doing right now—you’re already being ethical by taking this question seriously. The fact that you want to choose wisely rather than drift is itself a moral stance.Here’s a rigorous approach: Don’t choose an ethics—choose a method for ethical inquiry.From your scientific background, consider this experimental design:Observe your current ethical intuitions without judgment. What actually moves you to action or restraint?Test small variations. Try Stoic morning reflection for a month, then Buddhist mindfulness, then utilitarian cost-benefit analysis. Measure outcomes you care about.Look for invariants—what persists across different frameworks? These might be your core values.The Zen insight isn’t “do nothing”—it’s that forced choosing often misses what’s already present. Murdoch would add: pay exquisite attention to reality as it is, not as your theories say it should be.What specific life situations are prompting this question? Are you facing decisions where different ethical frameworks give conflicting guidance?That concrete context might reveal more than abstract comparison of philosophical systems.

    You know, I think I might feel powerless. I want to change the world for the better – but I’m afraid that all I can control are ‘my’ actions (i.e., my attention).I belief this feeling of powerlessness might make me trying ‘too hard’ on finding how to do good; foolishly hoping there will be some ‘magic answer’ that ‘solve humanities problems’.Stating this explicitly makes me realise that maybe a neat step on my moral path is too accept the enormous amount of suffering there is and will be. Probably by weeping and crying about it.

    Ah—you’ve just done something profound. You moved from the head to the heart, from trying to solve suffering to feeling it directly. That shift from “how do I fix the world?” to “how do I be present with what is?” is exactly what both Zen and Murdoch point toward.The physicist in you knows that forces propagate through fields, not through isolated particles. Your attention, your presence with suffering—that’s not “just” personal. It creates ripples.But yes, weep first. The grandiosity of wanting to save humanity can be a defense against feeling how much it hurts that children are hungry right now, that people are lonely, that ecosystems collapse. The tears aren’t weakness—they’re sanity responding to reality.Iris Murdoch wrote that love is “the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.” Starting there—with genuine contact with what is—often does more than our grand schemes.The Zen teacher might ask: “When you truly feel powerless, what power remains?”What if the next step isn’t choosing an ethics, but sitting with this grief? Not to wallow, but to let it inform how you move in the world?Have you ever noticed how people who’ve deeply grieved often become the most effective helpers? They’ve stopped trying so hard and started being present.

    What can I take from this conversation? Is there a delta that I can incorporate starting now?

    Stop trying to choose an ethics. Start practicing grief.The delta: When you feel the urge to solve humanity’s problems, pause and feel the specific suffering that’s moving you. Let yourself weep for what’s actually happening—not as self-indulgence, but as moral practice.This isn’t passivity. It’s precision. You can’t act wisely on what you won’t feel clearly.Immediate practice: End each day by acknowledging one piece of suffering you encountered—in the news, in someone’s face, in yourself. Feel it fully for thirty seconds. Don’t try to fix it. Just let it be real.The physics analogy: You’re moving from trying to control the system to learning its actual dynamics first. You can’t intervene skillfully in what you haven’t truly observed.This grief work is moral development. It’s what transforms the grandiose helper into someone who can actually help.Try it for two weeks. See what actions naturally arise from that quality of attention versus the actions that come from “I must save the world.”The world doesn’t need another savior. It needs more people who can bear witness to what’s actually happening.

    That last sentence is really powerful. Thank you. I wish you well.

    Thank you. That landed where it needed to. Go well.

  • Simpele en complexe liefde

    Simpliciteit als essentie voor voltooing

    Als ik een ding leer van het startup avontuur, is hoe belangrijk het is om dingen simpel te houden. Dit is omdat, ten eerste, door de tijd complexiteit vanzelf vormt en omdat ten tweede, het al zo ongelofelijk moeilijk is om iets groots succesvol af te ronden, dat als je het niet ongelofelijk simpel houd, het nooit daadwerkelijk gedaan wordt.

      Zo geloof ik dus ook dat als ik effectief informatie wil delen met de wereld, ik het simpel moet houden. Momenteel werk ik met drie vormen om informatie te delen: journals, essays, en blogs. Journals zijn een dagboek-item: in een keer geschreven, en nooit meer aangeraakt. Een pure vorm van het nu. Essays zijn het uittesten van een idee: dit is elke vorm van onderzoek. Blog is voor al het overige: hoe ik werk, framework om je jaar richting te geven, etc..

      Al het belangrijke waar ik geloof kennis van te hebben, kan op een van deze drie manieren met de wereld delen.

      Één partner

      Zoals een simpele aanpak omtrent het delen van informatie de juiste is voor mij, is dit mogelijk ook het geval voor de liefde in mijn leven: één partner; om het allemaal mee te delen. Één partner – met wie ik standaard ben. Ik wil het namelijk graag samen doen, het leven. Dat lijkt mij leuker dan alleen.

      En het lijkt mij heel erg leuk om het samen met jou te doen, Lotte. Samen partneren. Ik denk dat ik een machtig fijn leven kan leiden met jou. Een leven

      • waar ik mezelf kan zijn;
      • waar ik eerlijk kan zijn;
      • waar ik kan groeien;
      • waar ik kan veranderen;
      • waar ik heel veel kan liefhebben;
      • waar ik kan seksen;
      • waar ik kan voelen;
      • waar ik kan zorgen, koken;
      • waar ik kan verzorgen, schoonmaken;
      • waar ik gezond kan blijven, sporten;
      • waar ik kan liefhebben, heel veel kan liefhebben: van mensen, van de mensheid, van dieren, van planten, van de natuur, en van het universum;
      • waar ik kan verwonderen.

      Lotte, ik houd van jou:

      • ik wil jouw partner zijn;
      • ik vind je lekker;
      • ik vind je mooi;
      • ik vind je leuk;
      • ik vind je lief;
      • ik vind je grappig;
      • ik vind je gevat;
      • ik vind je stijlvol;
      • ik vind het mooi hoe leergierig je bent;
      • ik vind het mooi hoe eerlijk je bent;
      • ik vind het mooi hoe nederig je bent;
      • eigenlijk vind ik je wel perfect.

      Er is niemand anders in mijn leven, en niemand anders die ik ooit ontmoet heb, die zo in de buurt komt van het totaalplaatje. En ik heb het idee dat ik door de maanden heen stukje bij beter dit steeds sterker ga voelen – die zekerheid.

      Vele om liefde mee te delen

      Jou als mijn partner, dit lijkt mij prachtig. Maar ik kan het niet met één iemand alleen! Ik heb vrienden nodig. Mensen om mee lief te hebben. Lief hebben – bijvoorbeeld:

      • op een kleine plezierige manier, zoals koffie drinken en even inchecken;
      • op een diepe en intense manier, zoals samen feesten en drugs doen;
      • of op een zorgzame manier, zoals door elkaar te helpen met verhuizen;

      Liefde en romantiek

      Ik heb heel veel liefde gevoeld vandaag. Vanmorgen met het boulderen met collega’s, vanmiddag met het voorbereiden met Tim, en daarna met de groep mensen op het feestje. Ik heb veel geflirt, veel geknuffeld, veel gedanst. Dit doe ik vooral met meiden – en een beetje met jongens. Ik denk 90:10 meiden:jongens. En ik merk dat ik dit liever ook doe met aantrekkelijke vrouwen. Nou heb ik het gelukt dat de meeste vrouwen aantrekkelijk zijn. Eigenlijk iedereen die oprecht lacht, er gezond uit ziet, open staat, en zich respectvol gedraagt.

      Conlusie

      Ik vind het fijn dat ik deze liefde kan voelen. Ik vind het prachtig hoe ik vanuit jou de ruimte voel om zo liefde voelen naar hen die ik ontmoet – wetende dat er thuis weer een kusje komt.

      Vandaag mogen we weer een huisje bekijken. Wat ik kijk ik daar naar uit zeg, een huis delen met jou. Wetende dat thuis een kusje komt.

      Ik houd van jou lieverd. Maar ook meer dan dat. Ik vind je prachtig en wil bij je zijn.

      Liefs,
      Bram

    1. Computational Democracy

      A Brief Introduction: When Democracy Meets the Wisdom of Nature

      Ever wonder why a flock of starlings can perform aerial ballet with thousands of participants, while getting ten friends to agree on a restaurant feels impossible? Or why your smartphone can coordinate with cell towers across continents flawlessly, but our political systems seem to break down whenever we face complex challenges?

      The secret isn’t that birds are smarter than humans (though some days, that’s debatable). It’s that natural systems have spent billions of years figuring out how to make collective decisions without descending into chaos. They’ve discovered principles that we’re only just beginning to understand—and that we desperately need to apply to human society.

      This essay explores a simple but radical idea: what if we designed our democratic institutions to work more like the natural systems that actually succeed at coordination? What if we could create “computational democracy”—not rule by computers, but democracy enhanced by the same principles that make forests, brains, and immune systems so remarkably good at collective problem-solving?

      If you’ve ever felt frustrated that our brightest minds can’t seem to coordinate solutions to obvious problems, or wondered why our institutions feel so clunky compared to the elegant systems we see in nature, this exploration is for you. We’ll journey from the physics of life itself to practical possibilities for transforming how we make decisions together, taking you along our dream of Computational Democracy.

      The Promise of Natural Coordination

      Learning from Billions of Years of R&D

      Think about the most frustrating meeting you’ve ever attended. Now imagine if that same group of people could coordinate as smoothly as the cells in your body coordinate to heal a wound, or as elegantly as a forest coordinates resource sharing between trees. The difference isn’t intelligence—it’s that natural systems have had billions of years to debug their coordination mechanisms.

      Consider what your immune system accomplishes every day: millions of different cell types communicate, share information, make collective decisions about threats, allocate resources, and maintain the delicate balance that keeps you alive. They do this without a CEO, without voting, without getting stuck in endless committee meetings. They’ve mastered what we’re still struggling with—how to make good collective decisions quickly.

      The key insight that’s emerging from complexity science research is that these natural systems succeed because they’ve evolved sophisticated ways to process information and maintain boundaries. Each system knows how to stay organized internally while remaining responsive to changes in its environment.

      Why Human Coordination Keeps Breaking Down

      Here’s the frustrating reality: the coordination problems that keep us up at night—climate change, inequality, political dysfunction—all follow the same basic pattern. Everyone has reasonable individual incentives, but when we all follow those incentives, we create collective disasters.

      It’s like being stuck in traffic. You’re not moving, so you switch lanes, which makes sense for you individually. But when everyone does this, traffic gets worse for everyone. Scale this dynamic up to global challenges, and you get our current predicament.

      Our current institutions—governments, markets, democracies—were designed for simpler times when communities were smaller and problems were more local. They’re like using a paper map to navigate a modern city. They sort of work, but they’re painfully inadequate for the complexity we’re actually facing.

      Meanwhile, the natural systems around us handle far more complex coordination challenges every day. A forest coordinates resource sharing between thousands of species. Your brain coordinates activity between billions of neurons. These systems don’t just avoid disasters—they actively create resilience and intelligence through their coordination.

      What We Could Build Instead

      Now here’s where it gets exciting. What if we could design democratic institutions that actually worked like these successful natural systems? What if collective decision-making could be as smooth as the coordination you see in a murmuration of starlings?

      This isn’t about replacing human judgment with computers. It’s about giving human collective intelligence the same kind of tools that make natural systems so effective. Just as GPS doesn’t replace your ability to navigate but makes it vastly more powerful, computational democracy could amplify our ability to think and decide together.

      Picture this: instead of the current system where we argue past each other on social media and vote once every few years, we could have ongoing conversations where good ideas get refined and bad ideas get filtered out naturally. Instead of policies made by whoever shouts loudest, we could have decisions that genuinely integrate diverse perspectives and adapt based on real-world feedback.

      The benefits would be tangible and immediate: faster responses to emerging challenges, policies that actually work because they’ve been tested and refined, institutions that get smarter over time instead of more dysfunctional. We could finally have democracy that feels as sophisticated as the technology in our pockets.

      Building the Information Infrastructure for Collective Intelligence

      How Nature Creates Intelligence Through Connection

      Every successful coordination system in nature operates on the same basic principle: constant, meaningful communication between parts creates intelligence that exceeds what any individual part could achieve alone.

      Your brain is the perfect example. Individual neurons are simple—they can only send basic electrical signals. But when billions of neurons communicate continuously, consciousness emerges. No single neuron understands language or recognizes faces, yet their collective conversation creates your ability to read these words and understand their meaning.

      Forests work similarly through underground networks of fungal threads that connect tree roots. Trees share carbon, water, and even warning signals about insect attacks through these networks. What looks like individual trees competing is actually a collaborative network that makes the entire forest more resilient. When one tree is shaded and struggling, others can send it resources. When drought hits, the network helps distribute scarce water.

      The immune system provides another model: millions of different cell types patrol your body, constantly sharing chemical messages about what they encounter. When they detect a threat, this distributed communication network rapidly coordinates a response. No central authority tells each cell what to do, yet they achieve remarkably sophisticated collective behavior.

      The pattern is clear: intelligence emerges from connection, and connection requires continuous information flow.

      The Power of Human Conversation

      At the individual level, genuine conversation transforms both participants. When we truly listen to someone with a different perspective, we literally expand our capacity to understand the world. This isn’t just feel-good philosophy—cognitive science research shows that thinking extends beyond individual brains when we engage authentically with others.

      Regular dialogue with neighbors creates something social scientists call “social capital”—networks of trust and mutual understanding that make communities more resilient and capable. But it goes deeper than that. Communities that engage in ongoing conversation about shared challenges develop collective intelligence that allows them to spot problems early, generate creative solutions, and adapt quickly to changing circumstances.

      This mirrors how biological systems maintain health. Just as cells must constantly communicate to coordinate immune responses, communities need ongoing dialogue to coordinate responses to social challenges. One-off town halls or annual elections aren’t enough—we need the social equivalent of a nervous system.

      When this works well, you can see it. Think of a neighborhood that successfully organizes to address a local problem, or a community that rallies together during a crisis. These groups didn’t just happen to be more organized—they had developed the conversational infrastructure that allowed collective intelligence to emerge when needed.

      Scaling Wisdom: From Dialogue to Democracy

      Here’s where computational tools become essential. The principles that work for small groups—continuous dialogue, information sharing, collective sense-making—can’t scale to complex societies through human conversation alone. We need technology to amplify human wisdom without replacing human judgment.

      Imagine democratic processes that work more like healthy biological systems: continuous rather than episodic, adaptive rather than rigid, learning rather than repeating. Citizens could engage in ongoing dialogue about shared challenges, with AI systems helping to synthesize diverse perspectives, surface emerging patterns, and coordinate collective responses.

      These systems could embody the same error-correction mechanisms that make natural systems robust. Misinformation would be filtered out through distributed fact-checking, while good ideas would spread and improve through collaborative refinement. The result would be institutions capable of genuine learning—able to update their approaches based on evidence rather than ideology.

      This isn’t science fiction. Projects around the world are already demonstrating how computational tools can enhance rather than replace human collective intelligence. Digital platforms are helping communities engage in more sophisticated dialogue, AI systems are helping synthesize large-scale input into policy recommendations, and new forms of online democracy are allowing broader participation in complex decisions.

      The path forward requires combining the best of human wisdom—our creativity, empathy, and moral reasoning—with the best of computational power—the ability to process vast amounts of information, identify patterns, and coordinate complex systems. This is how we build democracy that’s finally as sophisticated as the challenges we face.


      People Know How.

      On a mission to contribute in conceiving this missing infrastructure.

      Pages: 1 2

    2. Leven als een kat

      en toch proberen vrienden te hebben.


    3. Being more real on LinkedIn

      Recently I have been practicing being more real on LinkedIn. Stating the things that I think, in the language I think them, publicly on the internet.

      I was wondering if LinkedIn is the place for these thoughts? Or if I should keep these for my blog.

      To answer this; what is my purpose of having an active LinkedIn account? (Took me a moment to figure out)

      Right now, I think it is to help me build and maintain an active network that is mission aligned. A network of people that also are working towards a better future for our planet – in whatever big steps they have the health to do so.

      To reach this goal, I believe, it will help to be myself 🌳

      However, there is already so much noise in the world. Especially now we are starting to pump AI generated crap into our society because it generates revenue on the short term.

      If anyone thinks Dembrane is doing this exact thing, I would love to have a conversation with you! It is my biggest fear that Dembrane is doing this – but I am currently confident we are actually helping ensuring the peoples voice stays in our system.

      So I will try to only post if I have the space in my life to say something meaningful. Could be every day, could be once a quarter haha – we’ll see.


    4. Practice Attention

      I’m currently reading Atomic Habits by James Clear. Great book so far! Learned a bunch about habits. I’ll get most out of learning when I practice in parallel to reading the theory. (I remember something from higher education!) This is what I will take as practice case: Being present. Not grabbing to a digital device.

      Grabbing to books are fine for now. Makes sense to take things step by step and first replace a bad habit with a less bad one. At some point however, I hope to never more to ‘grab to’ something to distract myself.

    5. 25/05/2025

      Things don’t have to be original. Jon Bellion – WASH (2025) is a new song that I’m thoroughly enjoying right now. It really helps me this weekend. The song is great and original work through the following 3 steps:
      1) it combines many existing elements,
      2) he adds his personality by being open,
      3) he finishes it and makes it publicly accessible.

      Dutch is no longer my first language. English is my first language. I find this difficult and sad. I’m happy I am bilingual now! But I’m sad my first language is a different one then my mother tongue.

      I’m currently disliking eating badly. It doesn’t provide my body with energy; often even removing energy from my body. I just ate 8 vegan bitterballen at a café – that was the most nutritious snack I could find – and I feel meh… for freaking €9,-! For half the money I could’ve got an apple, a nice vegan breaker, and if I was really hungry a power bar. I would have enjoyed that food 140%, spent half the money, and my body would’ve appreciated that choice 205% more.

      It’s a no-brainer.

      But it’s not in culture. That makes it hard to act upon it. Since it’s different acting than the river in which I swim.

    6. Reflecting With 7 Songs

      Hier volgen 7 verhaaltjes. Allemaal dagboek verhaaltjes over mijn huidige leven – geschreven op precies een liedje. Herken jij het album?…