When Machines Can Care, but Can Not Feel and Love

It’s been many days since I last wrote. I've been reading Ted Chiang’s Exhalation and thinking of writing often, but life has been busy—we’ve been hosting visiting relatives from China since July 30.

One story I want to write about today is “Dacey’s Patent Automatic Nanny.”

Told as a fictional historical account, it follows early 20th‑century inventor Reginald Dacey, who builds a mechanical nanny to raise infants with clock-like consistency—free from the bias, mood swings, and emotional volatility of human caregivers. Dacey even has his own son raised by one of these machines.

He believes emotions are irrational, unreliable and that an objective, machine‑caregiver could do a better job than any human. He doesn't trust humans with emotions. What he fails to understand is that human beings—especially babies—need more than food, sleep, and safety. They need to feel secure through human contact and emotional attachment, which forms the foundation for healthy psychological development.

While his invention fascinates the public, it also provokes unease. Later studies confirm the fears: children raised by the machine nanny show marked deficits in emotional bonding and adaptability. Because the machine could not offer the human touch, responsiveness, and shared emotional life that help a child feel connected to humans.

While reading it, I think of this question: What does it mean to be human? Humans have the function to both think and feel. A machine can raise a thinking being but cannot create one with human feeling. The younger the humans are, the more they rely on their ability to feel. A being is not fully human if it cannot feel like a human in human society. This is where a machine fails.

Chiang’s tale is a reminder that while technology can do many things, it cannot replace the human attachments that makes us human. What some people fail to understand is human contacts are essential in making a baby a human being, that no machine, however advanced, can substitute the emotional bond formed between a baby and a loving human.

The Light Always Flashes First: Ted Chiang and the Horror of No Choice

Since early July, I've meant to write about Exhalation by Ted Chiang. But other things keep me occupied —preparing for visiting relatives, readying beds, sewing sheets and blankets, making space, cleaning, shopping, even borrowing mattress from my son. Now the day before their arrival, at last, I turn to one of the shortest yet most unsettling pieces in the collection: “What’s Expected of Us.”

The premise is simple and terrifying. A message from the future introduces a device called the Predictor—a small box with a button and a light. Press the button, and the light flashes one second before you press it. The implication? Free will is an illusion; the future is already fixed. No escape however you try.

Chiang’s narrative, styled like a public warning, is a thought experiment made physical. It explores:

  • Determinism vs. Free Will – You can't “choose” not to press the button; the light already knows.

  • Existential Reactions – Some users go catatonic, others rebel pointlessly, many pretend nothing changed.

  • The Absence of Escape – Unlike other sci-fi, there’s no loophole. The Predictor proves you’re not the author of your actions. You are controlled by forces beyond you.

In a few pages, Chiang invokes centuries of philosophy (Spinoza, Schopenhauer), neuroscience (Libet’s experiments), and physics (Einstein’s block universe) to collapse the illusion of agency and free will. Yet he offers no comfort—no spiritual detour, no ethical workaround. Only a blinking light that knows you better than you know yourself. Don't you ever try to outsmart it!

What hit me hardest is this: I instinctively thought I’d observe others before trying it myself—delay the confrontation. But Chiang anticipated that too. The story’s real trap is meta-awareness: your every hesitation, denial, and rationalization was already predicted. Even your plan to resist is part of the script.

The Predictor doesn’t just disprove free will—it infiltrates your self-image. Watching someone else break down doesn’t spare you; it implicates you. In Chiang’s cold universe, even the decision to "do nothing" was always going to happen.

What’s Left After the Illusion Is Gone?

This story isn’t about the button. It’s about you—the reader—feeling the floor fall away under your choices. Your disbelief, your fascination, your horror... the light already flashed for all of it.

Chiang leaves us with one bleak instruction: "Go through the motions." Not because it matters, but because even your rebellion was already part of the design. Your life's script is prewritten for you.

That’s the final horror:
You’ll keep living as if you’re free, even now—because the Predictor knew you would.

And maybe, just now, the light flashed, leaving you deeply disturbed.

Planning a Trip to Chengdu and Xinjiang 2025

Chengdu & Sichuan: Autumn in Relaxed City & Nature

Chengdu City Highlights

  • Ginkgo & Maple Foliage: In October, Chengdu glows golden. Head to People’s ParkQingyang PalaceDaci Temple, and the University of Electronic Science & Technology ginkgo festival for iconic photo spots. (China DiscoveryChina Discovery)

  • Cultural Attractions: Visit Wenshu Temple(文殊院), Du Fu Thatched Cottage(杜甫草堂), Jinsha Museum(金沙遗址), Wuhou Shrine(武侯祠), and explore Chengdu’s teahouse culture.

  • Pandas & Tea Houses: Spend a morning at the Chengdu Panda Research Base, then relax in Chengdu’s famous teahouses with local snacks. (China Discovery)

Day Trips from Chengdu

  • Jiuzhaigou National Park (九寨沟: ~8–10 hr drive or 1 hr flight), known for fairy-tale lakes and autumn forests. (China Discovery)

  • Huanglong Valley (黄龙国家公园), famous for multicolored ponds and foliage. (China Discovery)

  • Danba Tibetan Villages like Jiaju, set against orangish highlands and golden leaves—ideal for culture and relaxation. (China Discovery)

  • Daocheng Yading, often called “the Last Shangri-La,” offers red grass, poplar forests, and snowy peaks—perfect from mid-September to mid-November. (China Discovery)


🏔️ Xinjiang: Epic Autumn in Northern China

Must-Visit Regions

  • Kanas Lake & Hemu Village (Altay): Golden poplar and birch forests reflected in turquoise waters—autumn colors peak around September 20. Enjoy Tuva culture, hiking, and lakeside strolls. (Just China Tours)

  • Nalati Grassland (Ili Prefecture): Wide alpine meadows turn warm gold in October. Horseback riding and interactions with Kazakh herders offer breathtaking views. (Just China Tours)

  • Sayram Lake & Bianjiang: Turquoise lake surrounded by golden grasslands and snow-capped peaks. Horse-riding, Kazakh yurts, and autumn solitude. (Just China Tours)

  • Karakul Lake & Tashkurgan: High-altitude Pamir Plateau vistas with reflections of Muztagh Ata. Combine nomadic culture and serene scenery. (Shantour)

Cultural & Local Highlights

  • Ürümqi International Grand Bazaar: Experience vibrant markets, Islamic architecture, and ethnic cuisine. (Wikipedia)

  • Heavenly Lake (Tianchi): Alpine lake with boat rides, hiking, Kazakh yurt stays—beautiful in early autumn. (chinadragontravel.com)

  • Tianshan Grand Canyon: Forested valleys, waterfalls, and traditional Kazakh nomadic experiences. A hidden gem between Ürümqi and grasslands. (Wikipedia)


🧳 Travel Tips for September–October

Seasonal Advice

  • Chengdu: Early fall temperatures range 12–28 °C. Layering is essential. Avoid Golden Week (National Day) for lighter crowds. (China Discovery)

  • Xinjiang: Pleasant days (10–25 °C), cool nights. Early snow can appear in high-altitude areas—pack layers accordingly. (Asia Odyssey Travel)

Logistics & Duration

  • Chengdu: Ideal itinerary includes 1–2 days exploring the city, followed by a 2–4‑day nature trip to Jiuzhaigou, Danba, or Yading. (China Discovery)

  • Xinjiang: Allow 4–7 days to travel to Altay or Ili regions. Most attractions are remote—book local flights or charter tours in advance. (Just China ToursAsia Odyssey Travel)


✅ Suggested Itinerary (10–14 Days)

  1. Chengdu (2–3 days)
    – Panda base, Wenshu Temple, Jinli Street, and city strolls.
    – Day trip to Mt. Emei or Qingcheng Mountain if time permits.

  2. Jiuzhaigou or Yading (2–3 days)
    – For breathtaking fall foliage and mountain lakes.

  3. Fly to Ürümqi or Altay
    – Kanas Lake + Hemu Village (2–3 days)
    – Nalati Grassland / Sayram Lake / Heavenly Lake (2–3 days)

  4. Cultural immersion
    – Ürümqi Grand Bazaar, Tashkurgan, Karez irrigation systems, Pamir highways, local ethnic performances.


Final Thought

Autumn in Sichuan brings soft, golden tranquility—city charm peppered with natural splendor. In Xinjiang, fall is bold and expansive—a dramatic tapestry of bright foliage, snow‑dusted peaks, vibrant cultures, and open skies. Whether you seek relaxation or discovery, history or wonder, this fall itinerary offers both harmony and contrast.

Every move counts, and this journey promises to leave you richer in scenery, culture, and connection.

Would you like help with transport logistics, visa tips, or booking suggestions for any of these destinations?

From Private Pain to Public Health: Why the World Must Wake Up to Loneliness

There’s something I’ve been thinking about since June 30. On that day, the World Health Organization (WHO) released a landmark report titled "From Loneliness to Social Connection: Charting a Path to Healthier Societies."

Many people have probably never heard of the WHO’s Technical Advisory Group on Social Connection (TAG-SC). Its mission is simple yet urgent: to help people—and governments—recognize that staying socially connected is not just a lifestyle choice, but a critical public health issue.

TAG-SC was formed to support the broader work of the Commission on Social Connection, created by the WHO to position loneliness and isolation as legitimate global health priorities. These issues, long overlooked, were magnified during the COVID‑19 pandemic and are now understood to increase the risk of early death by 25–33%—on par with smoking, obesity, and physical inactivity.

This multidisciplinary team of global experts advises the WHO on how to bring social connection to the center of health policies. From guiding intervention design to creating a Global Index on Social Connection, TAG-SC is leading a movement to redefine human connection as a public good, not just a private concern.

This year’s report paints a sobering picture. Loneliness is no longer a fringe experience—it’s a global epidemic.

Key findings include:

  • Roughly 1 in 6 people worldwide experience loneliness, with even higher rates among adolescents and those in low-income regions.

  • Between 2014 and 2019, loneliness contributed to an estimated 871,000 deaths annually—about 100 deaths every hour.

  • The health impacts of loneliness rival those of well-known risks, including cardiovascular disease, diabetes, dementia, anxiety, depression, and early mortality.

  • The effects ripple beyond individual health, harming academic performance, job stability, community bonds, and national productivity.

What startled me most was how this report shattered my own assumptions. I used to think of loneliness as a cultural problem, one most vividly embodied by the Japanese phenomenon of 孤独死 (kodokushi)—a term that literally means “lonely death.” These are cases where people, often elderly but increasingly middle-aged, die alone in their homes and go unnoticed for days, weeks, or even months. I saw kodokushi as uniquely Japanese, rooted in that society’s aging population and urban alienation.

But I now realize that loneliness is not confined by culture, geography, or age. It’s a rising global tide. And the WHO’s effort to tackle it shows just how serious—and universal—this crisis has become.

Conclusion
We tend to think of loneliness as a private emotion, something we deal with quietly or grow out of. But what if it's not just a personal struggle, but a silent epidemic—chipping away at our health, our communities, and our futures? The WHO’s Commission on Social Connection offers more than a report—it offers a call to action: to rebuild connection not just in our lives, but in the way we think about public health itself.

Engineering Against Nature: The Monumental Challenge of the Motuo Hydropower Project

Yesterday morning, I was preoccupied by five traffic tickets. Annoyed and frustrated, I couldn't stop thinking about them—until a friend told me that someone we know has a child suffering from a rare autoimmune disease. That news snapped me back to reality and reminded me how small some problems are in the grand scheme of life.

China’s Motuo Hydropower Project: A Giant Awakens

There’s been growing coverage of a monumental endeavor unfolding deep in the Tibetan Plateau: China’s Motuo Hydropower Project—a feat poised to become the largest hydropower plant on Earth.

Overview:

  • Planned Capacity: ~60,000 MW — nearly three times that of the Three Gorges Dam

  • Annual Energy Generation: ~300 billion kWh — enough to power 400 million people

  • Start Date: Approved in December 2024, construction began July 2025

  • Completion Target: Around 2033

  • Purpose: Support China’s 2030 carbon neutrality goal and supply power to both Tibet and the national grid

Strategic and Technical Context

Labelled as the "Project of the Century", it’s part of China’s broader $900 billion push into renewable energy. It is expected to reshape both the economy of Tibet and China’s national energy landscape. But like all mega-projects, especially in China, it draws both admiration and criticism—from environmentalists, neighboring countries, and geopolitical analysts.

Engineering in One of the World’s Most Hostile Landscapes

Location:
The dam will rise in the Yarlung Zangbo Grand Canyon, one of the world’s deepest and most geologically active ravines. Over a 50 km stretch, the river plummets nearly 2,000 meters between towering Himalayan peaks like Namcha Barwa and Gyalha Peri.

Core Engineering Strategy:

  1. 截弯取直 (Jié wān qǔ zhí) — Straightening the river by cutting through winding sections to optimize flow

  2. 隧洞引水 (Suì dòng yǐn shuǐ) — Diverting water via tunnels, bypassing difficult terrain

  3. 梯级电站 (Tī jí diàn zhàn) — Cascade stations, built at intervals to maximize vertical drop and energy use

Key Engineering Challenges:

1. Extreme Terrain & Topography

  • Working in an area with elevations above 3,300 meters, steep canyons, and unstable rock.

  • Construction access is limited; roads like the Mêdog Highway were only completed in the past decade.

2. Ultra-Long Tunnels

  • Four tunnels, each ~20 km, are being bored through the Namcha Barwa massif to divert up to 2,000 m³/s of water.

  • These are among the most geometrically complex tunnels ever attempted.

3. Seismic & Geological Hazards

  • The region sits on active fault lines and has experienced major earthquakes.

  • Risks include landslides, rockfalls, and seismic shocks—further complicated by reservoir-induced stress on the ground.

4. Sediment Management

  • The river is sediment-rich, and trapping this sediment could disrupt downstream ecosystems and agriculture, as seen in the Mekong Delta.

  • Controlling erosion and maintaining hydrological balance will require cutting-edge monitoring and engineering.

5. Infrastructure & Grid Integration

  • No existing transmission lines currently run from southeastern Tibet to China’s main grid.

  • Building them across such rugged terrain will be a massive logistical undertaking.

6. Environmental Impact

  • The canyon lies in a biodiversity hotspot.

  • Construction could disrupt fragile alpine and subtropical ecosystems, threatening endangered species and natural habitats.

A Triumph of Technology and Resolve

Despite its challenges, the Motuo project showcases some world-first breakthroughs:

  • Use of China’s self-developed shield tunneling machines to carve through Himalayan rock

  • Harnessing a 2,200-meter natural drop for high-efficiency energy generation

  • A design that combines hydropower innovation, structural resilience, and climate adaptation

Final Thoughts

But beyond the engineering marvel and economic promise, the project raises serious environmental concerns. The Yarlung Zangbo River is home to one of the world’s most ecologically diverse canyons, and rerouting its waters—through straightened channels and tunnel systems—could potentially threaten fragile ecosystems and displace unique forms of life found nowhere else on Earth. Critics have questioned the environmental impact, the seismic risks in this earthquake-prone region, and the geopolitical tensions that may arise downstream. For all the ambition behind the project, its long-term consequences—for nature, people, and neighboring nations—remain unanswered.

This project is more than just an energy play—it’s a test of human endurance, innovation, and willpower. It's a stark reminder of how we push boundaries, often in unforgiving environments, to meet growing demands and redefine what’s possible.

If successful, Motuo will be an engineering marvel—a structure born in a place where nature was never meant to be tamed. But in chasing such scale, we must constantly ask: At what cost?

Because in engineering—as in life—every move counts.