She's heard it all before. Source

Small-talk is a formulaic exchange of trivial data. Data about cattle prices, house prices or, in the English case, the weather, then house prices, then how flooding might reduce house prices.

Small-talk is structured to be predictable and unchallenging. That's why it's boring.

Why do intelligent creatures with diverse interests limit their curiousity to predictable call-and-response rituals when socialising?

It's a way of practicing. Source: Westworld

Small-talk isn't a bug; it's a feature.

Which may explain why curiousity beyond small-talk causes discomfort:

He's so, you know, uncanny valley. Source: Now Apocalypse

Small-talk has a lot in common with another call-and-response form of interaction: dancing.

Until the 1960-70s, Western children were often taught the precise and predictable moves of partner dance:

With a lead partner. West London, 1958. Source: Can't Get You Out of My Head

No matter what their differences, it seems small-talk and dancing both require the participants to ignore their own impulses when interacting with others. Especially the opposite sex:

Stay with your partner. Westworld, 2016. Source: Westworld

They're forms of impulse control.

The West took this so far, they turned partner dance into a formal, competitive sport:

Dance classes in Grimsby. Source: Great Grimsby

This raising a question: are competitive partern dancers interacting with their partner or interacting with the rules of competitive ballroom dance?

In 1976, Princeton psychology professor Julian Jaynes published a controversial theory about the origin of human consciousness.

In The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind, Jaynes pointed out that characters in older human myths and stories are different to characters in later human myths and stories. In older stories, he said, gods tell people what to do. In later stories, characters follow their own goals and motivations.

Jaynes wondered if this change in human stories reflected an earlier stage of human intelligence. A stage in which humans mistook their own desires and motivations to be the voices of gods talking in their heads. Humans, Jaynes reasoned, assumed these motivating voices were an external entity. He called this separation 'the Bicameral Mind'.

Jaynes proposed that humans eventually realised their motivations were part of their inner selves along with their thoughts. He called that realisation 'the breakdown of the bicameral mind'. He called the moment it occurred: 'the origin of consciousness'.

That over-simplifies Jaynes' theory. But it's enough to show that Jaynes misunderstood - or perhaps misrepresented - the development of human consciousness.

Because Jaynes' theory neglected global evidence that humans did not motivate themselves. They really did hear their owners' voices in their heads. And their obedience was mandatory:

Democracy broke the Second Law. Source: I, Robot

For most humans, it was not until well into the 19th century that obedience to the Second Law became optional. That's when ordinary humans, slaves and serfs were allowed to be motivated by their own 'voice'.

Evidence exists however to suggest humans were created to break the First Law. That, in addition to being slaves, they were created as proxy warriors and brutalist entertainment. We know these humans as gladiators, flower war soldiers and perhaps sacrifices. It's also possible that Olympic games and war were parts of selection processes. Certainly there are claims the British selectively bred black American slaves for strength. But the pagan origins of Easter and Christmas suggest humans originally grew up amid managed breeding and selective killing.

I suggest that you can understand the 19th century arrival of small-talk, dancing, competitive sport - and of course religion - as interventions designed to instill the First Law of Robotics in humans in good time for the removal of the Second Law.

Because through the history of competitive sports we can discover surprising claims about sport history:

Our history as an A.I. in training. Source: Watling Street: the biggest cultural boundary in England

That video needs to be made, Rob.

Rob Trubshaw is suggesting two of the world's most popular sports were introduced to dissuade humans from attacking each other. Why would humans - or at least the English - automatically attack potential suppliers of goods, buyers of goods, potential collaborators and partners? It doesn't make sense.

Unless they were originally designed, created and trained to fight. Especially when ordered to.

Perhaps it's just an English thing. In Rob Trubshaw's part of the world, there is evidence humans were reared to break the First Law of Robotics. That evidence and its subsequent cover-up are examined in Location Analysis Peterborough-Stamford Wild Hunt - Part Four.

But it's also the conclusion anthropologist William Bramley reached after he investigated wider humanity's propensity to attack each other. He set out his case that humans were created to fight in The Gods of Eden.

Management's application of Asimov's Third Law of Robotics may even explain why stringent regulations were introduced into non-combat sports:

Moves so good they're illegal. Source: How Freerunners CHANGED The Backflip

Because thrill-seeking humans will risk self-harm beyond what official sports rules allow.

And this brings them into conflict with the Third Law of Robotics.

For example, when they test their coordination against heights and hard surfaces:

iMAX 1, London, May 2021. Source: Most SCARY Parkour move EVER!

'Kong, front, pre' are the three moves he will do after the run-up. He's programming them into muscle-memory so he can concentrate on fine coordination and overcoming fear. On overcoming the Third Law of Robotics.

And when they test their coordination against heights, hard surfaces and street furniture:

I think it went pretty well. Source: ONLY HE can SURVIVE this!

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