大语言模型的黄粱一梦（一）

Model: ChatGPT-4-turbo

Prompt: Write a short novel with the title "The near-death experience of a Bayesian thinker".

The Near-Death Experience of a Bayesian Thinker

Chapter 1: The Prior

Dr. Alex Whitman always saw the world through the lens of probability. A Bayesian statistician by profession, he approached every problem—whether academic, mundane, or existential—with a calm calculation of priors and likelihoods. Crossing a street? He mentally updated his survival odds based on traffic density and the observed behavior of nearby drivers. Choosing a restaurant? Yelp ratings, personal experience, and the time of day all factored into his mental model.

But no formula had prepared him for what happened that fateful afternoon on his way to a conference.

The day started predictably. Coffee brewed to a precise 96°C, a morning jog calibrated to maximize cardiovascular efficiency, and a meticulously packed carry-on bag. The flight to Denver was routine, with turbulence adding a small but non-negligible spike to his mental risk dashboard. It wasn’t until the cab ride to the conference hotel that Alex’s model—his entire framework for understanding the world—was violently tested.

As the cab sped down an icy overpass, the driver, distracted by a phone call, failed to see the pickup truck barreling toward them. Time seemed to slow. The truck swerved, the cab fishtailed, and Alex’s Bayesian brain kicked into overdrive.

Chapter 2: The Posterior

Alex's mind raced. What is the probability of survival? Seatbelt engagement, vehicle speed, and angle of impact flashed through his thoughts. He calculated a grim 35% chance of escaping unscathed and braced himself for the worst.

The crash was catastrophic. Metal screeched, glass shattered, and pain shot through his body. Then, silence.

When Alex opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the wreckage but in a strange, weightless expanse. It wasn’t heaven, nor was it hell—it was... data. Points of light swirled around him, converging into graphs, charts, and distributions.

“You’re awake,” said a voice. Alex turned to see a figure, impossibly radiant, standing among the glowing probabilities.

“Who are you?” Alex asked, struggling to speak.

“I am the Universal Prior,” the figure replied. “You’re between worlds now, Alex. And you have a choice: to update or to fade.”

Chapter 3: The Likelihood

The Universal Prior explained: every decision, every probability Alex had ever calculated, contributed to his presence here. His fate depended on his ability to reconcile the limits of his Bayesian framework with the chaotic unpredictability of existence.

“Do you truly believe you can predict everything?” the figure asked, gesturing to a swirling cloud of uncertainty.

Alex hesitated. “I... always believed that with enough data, I could model any outcome. But this... this defies my models.”

“Exactly,” the Prior replied. “Life isn’t just about predicting outcomes; it’s about embracing the unknown and updating as you go.”

As Alex pondered this, the swirling probabilities began to collapse into a singular vision: his life. Moments of triumph, failure, and love played before him. He saw the times he had clung to certainty and the opportunities he had missed because his priors were too rigid.

“I see it now,” Alex whispered. “I’ve been too focused on the data, on the probabilities, to see the beauty in the uncertainty.”

Chapter 4: The Update

The light around him began to shift. The Universal Prior smiled. “You’ve learned the most important lesson: Bayesian thinking isn’t about controlling the world; it’s about adapting to it.”

With a sudden jolt, Alex found himself back in the mangled cab. The truck driver and paramedics hovered over him, shouting that he was alive, that he was going to be okay.

As he was loaded into the ambulance, Alex felt an overwhelming sense of peace. His Bayesian instincts were still intact, but now, they coexisted with something greater: an appreciation for the unpredictable tapestry of life.

Epilogue: The Posterior Predictive

Months later, Alex stood in front of his students at the university, holding a marker to the whiteboard.

“Probability isn’t just about numbers,” he said. “It’s a way to navigate life, to adapt to the unknown, and to grow. But never forget: the greatest joy often lies in the events we can’t predict.”

The class nodded, and Alex smiled. For the first time, he wasn’t just teaching statistics—he was living it.