EA Global Gothic
People ask what your goals for the conference are. You feel something tugging in the back of your mind, but you can’t quite identify it. “Goals … yes …”
You ask people how their conference is. “Oh, I’m just spending the whole time in one-on-ones.” The one-on-ones are useful. The one-on-ones are always useful.
Someone has marked “interested” on the Bizzabo app. You don’t know what that means. Are you interested in them? Should you set up a one-on-one? Will they set up a one-on-one? In a panic, you close the app. For the rest of the weekend you studiously avoid eye contact.
You tell someone you went to a talk. The horror dawning on their face tells you that you have violated some dread taboo. “You know those are recorded, right?”
People ask if you’ve made progress on your goals for the conference. You think you wrote them down somewhere on Friday, but can’t remember where. You write everything down, hoping to keep your grip on reality, but it somehow gets lost anyway.
Luke Muehlhauser has not emerged from his room the entire conference. People go into the room, and people come out. When they come out they seem … different. No one will speak of what took place, but you observe a haunted look in their eyes.
Everyone is in a one-on-one. You don’t know where these are held, or what is discussed in them. You only know that they are always productive. You wander through an empty dome, looking for someone to talk to. You realize no one can break free of the sinister glamour of one-on-ones.
Amanda Askell is telling you that true propositions are easier to argue for than false ones, and thus reasoned philosophical debate tends toward the truth. It sounds plausible. You slowly nod.
People ask if you’ve achieved your goals for the conference. What is a goal? It sounds like one of those things you had, once. Like hopes, and dreams, and fears.