philosophy

From Abstract Models to Real Complexity

When we design a model of something, it often looks clean and simple. A couple of concepts, a few relations, and we feel we understand the whole thing. But the moment we apply that model to the real world, the complexity explodes. The complexity is not really in the abstract model itself, but in the countless concrete instances that fill it.

Take a simple example: a model of family relationships. In the abstract, this is easy to describe. You have a Person and a Relationship. The relationship can have different types: parent, child, sibling, spouse, and so on. That is basically it. A few concepts and a small set of relation types. The model is straightforward and has low complexity.

Now look at what happens when you instantiate this model in the real world. Each actual human becomes an instance of Person. Each real family connection becomes an instance of Relationship. Even in one family you quickly get many objects: parents, children, siblings, grandparents, step-parents, and more. A larger family network gives you hundreds or thousands of people and relationships.

Scale this up further. In a town, you have thousands of persons and a huge number of relationships. In a country, you have millions. In the whole world, you have billions of persons and an enormous graph of family relations between them. The abstract model has not changed at all, but the instantiated system becomes overwhelmingly complex.

So the key point is: to get a sense of real complexity, you cannot just look at the abstract model with its few concepts and relations. You have to look at the instances and objects that arise when the model is applied to reality. The real complexity is in the thousands, millions, or billions of concrete persons and relationships, not in the small, tidy schema that describes them.

Navigating Levels of Abstraction in Knowledge Work

In knowledge work, understanding the level of abstraction you’re operating on can make all the difference. A famous example helps illustrate the concept: “This is a picture of a painting of a painting of a pipe.” At the simplest level, we have the concrete—the pipe itself. Beyond that, we move to representations: the painting of the pipe, which is one level removed, and then the painting of the painting, which adds yet another layer of abstraction.

The concrete level is the easiest to grasp—it’s direct and tangible. However, the higher levels of abstraction, those that deal with representations of representations or broader conceptual thinking, are harder to understand and often tricky to apply appropriately. Knowing when and how to move beyond the concrete level is a skill, one that isn’t always intuitive.

Humans and language models alike face challenges in handling abstraction. We can easily mix up the layers, treating abstract representations as if they were concrete objects. Some individuals and systems struggle to work beyond the concrete level at all, sticking only to the simplest, most tangible concepts. This can lead to oversimplified results when the task or concept at hand requires more nuanced thinking across abstract layers.

These difficulties also create challenges for building tools that support knowledge work. Tools must be designed to navigate and present information at multiple levels of abstraction, making them both accessible and capable of handling complexity. This is especially vital when creating systems or agents intended to work alongside humans, as their ability to handle abstraction impacts their usefulness and relevance in knowledge-intensive tasks.

Understanding levels of abstraction isn’t just a theoretical exercise—it’s an essential skill for working smarter. By recognizing these layers and the challenges they bring, we can design better tools, make better decisions, and approach problems with greater clarity. Mastering abstraction enables us to connect the concrete with the conceptual, leading to more effective knowledge work overall.

Owning Your Digital Identity

Who owns your digital identity? It’s a question many of us haven’t paused to consider, even though our digital identities—email accounts, social media profiles, banking logins—are integral to how we navigate modern life. Yet, despite their importance, there’s an unsettling truth: someone else owns them. Companies, platforms, and institutions control our digital selves, and at any moment, they could alter, restrict, or even take them away.

Fundamentally, your digital identity should be yours. Owning it should be a basic human right. The frustration many of us feel with the endless chaos of managing passwords and accounts stems from an underlying issue: the lack of control. Passwords are just patches on a deeper problem. The fact is, most of us don’t have any real say in what happens to our digital identities. If a company wants to deactivate or ban your account, there’s often little you can do.

Creating a system where you truly own your digital identity is technically possible, yet no one has delivered it. Why? Perhaps it’s because organizations would need to give up their ownership over your digital data—and that’s not something they’re eager to do. This raises troubling questions about power and control. Why should external entities govern something as personal as your digital identity? These systems aren’t built for your autonomy; they’re designed to benefit the organizations that manage them.

The lack of self-ownership is more than an inconvenience—it’s a vulnerability. Knowing that someone else controls your digital identity is unsettling. At any moment, it could be revoked, hacked, or manipulated, leaving you without recourse. This sense of powerlessness is at the root of why digital identity ownership matters so much.

A future where we own our digital identities isn’t just wishful thinking—it’s achievable. Technologies like decentralized systems, cryptography, and blockchain offer pathways to building identities that belong to individuals, not institutions. But the challenge isn’t just technical; it’s about shifting mindsets and power dynamics. Solutions must prioritize autonomy, privacy, and security, ensuring individuals control their own data.

Owning your digital identity isn’t just a convenience—it would fundamentally change how we interact with the digital world. It would mean freedom from the fear of losing access, reduced reliance on passwords, and greater protection for your personal data. Most importantly, it would restore a sense of self-possession and control.

As individuals, we must push for this future and demand systems that work for us—not against us. If digital identities are as essential as they seem, should we accept anything less than full ownership?

It should be a basic human right.