Your Model of the World

I’ve been circling the same question for over a decade without realizing it. Didn’t have the words to articulate it but I do now:

The Seed

In 9th grade, our summer reading was Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. In class we examined Crime and Punishment. AP Lang and AP Lit became some of my favorite classes alongside science and math. I didn’t know what to call the pull I felt toward those texts. I just knew that something about tearing apart an argument, examining a motive, sitting with an uncomfortable question felt different than anything else in school.

At the same time, I was making beats and learning web dev through Myspace and Tumblr themes. Those things felt separate. The philosophy kid and the kid customizing CSS on his profile page didn’t seem like the same person.

They were. Both were obsessed with structure. One with the structure of arguments. The other with the structure of code.

I wouldn’t connect those threads for another decade.

Stoicism then the Greeks

Almost a decade later in 2020, I picked philosophy back up on my own. I started with Stoicism. Marcus Aurelius, Ryan Holiday. These were practical. They helped me navigate a critical inflection in my life. Personal turbulence, professional growth, and figuring out what kind of life I actually wanted.

Stoicism was a gateway. By June 2021, I wanted to go deeper. I started recording video essays on my Youtube channel and posting analyses to the r/philosophy subreddit. Over the next two years, I worked through the last days of Socrates and most of Plato’s Republic and several other critical texts.

The Socratic dialogues rewired something in me.

In the Euthyphro, Socrates asks a man to define piety. The man tries four times. Each definition collapses under questioning. Socrates doesn’t offer his own answer. He just keeps probing until the structure fails. Euthyphro walks away embarrassed. Socrates walks away without an answer but having learned something about the nature of definitions themselves.

I wrote in my notes at the time: “Is this where his wisdom lies? In being amused when people say they know something but can’t withstand inquiry?”

That idea stuck with me. The value isn’t in having the right answer. It’s in having a method for testing whether any answer is actually right.

In the Apology, Socrates is on trial for his life. His defense comes down to one claim. The Oracle of Delphi said he was the wisest man in Athens. He didn’t believe it. So he spent years questioning everyone with a reputation for wisdom, trying to find someone wiser. He never did. Not because they lacked knowledge, but because they thought they knew more than they actually did. Socrates’ only advantage was that he knew the limits of his own understanding.

I had spent years in marketing and sales watching people project expertise they didn’t have. This felt uncomfortably familiar; A criticism I’ll expand on in another blog.

In the Crito, Socrates’ friend begs him to escape prison. Socrates dismantles every argument with the same tool: reason. Not emotion. Not self-preservation. Not reputation. He chooses death over hypocrisy because fleeing would contradict everything he spent his life teaching.

Something I took away from this dialogue is that Socrates was always open to new ideas, but he never made a decision unless it was thoroughly examined and reasoned. Many people today do not take the time to weigh out any options before making a decision. Especially in the face of death.

In the Phaedo, Socrates spends his final hours discussing the immortality of the soul and what Plato calls the Forms. The Forms are perfect, unchanging representations of things like Beauty, Justice, and Equality. We can never encounter the Form directly. We only perceive imperfect material instances of it. The Form is the standard against which we measure every shadow we encounter.

Plato ascribes The Forms as Objective Truths.

I didn’t know it yet, but I was reading the philosophical ancestor of every schema, ontology, and data model I would later encounter in software engineering.

The Republic took months. I went book by book. In Book I, Thrasymachus argues that justice is simply the interest of the stronger party. Looking at history, it’s hard to say he’s completely wrong. In Book II, Glaucon argues that justice was created by those too weak to get away with injustice.

By Book VII, Plato presents the Allegory of the Cave, where education is described as turning the whole soul from shadows on a wall toward what is more real.

I broke the allegory into six stages: imprisonment, freedom, education, curiosity, enlightenment, and pity. That last stage really stuck with me.

The enlightened philosopher feels a moral obligation to descend back into the darkness and help others see, not condescending or ego-driven. Enlightenment as burden. Knowledge as responsibility.

The Leap to Nietzsche

Thus Spoke Zarathustra was the sharpest turn in my reading. Nietzsche was writing in a world where Darwin had just shattered the foundation of religious certainty; A specific dogmatism that pervades everywhere.

His famous declaration, “God is dead and we have killed Him” wasn’t a celebration. It was a warning. If the old framework for meaning disappears, what replaces it? Without a new structure, people either collapse into despair or retreat into comfortable lies.

Zarathustra descends from his mountain, weary of wisdom like a bee that has gathered too much honey, and tries to teach the townspeople. They don’t listen to him. They want the tightrope walker (the entertainer), not the philosopher.

What struck me most was Nietzsche’s understanding that inquiry itself had killed the old frameworks. The same Socratic questioning that Plato documented had been turned on religion, on tradition, on inherited certainty. And it worked. The structures collapsed. The question became: what do you build next?

Nietzsche’s answer was the Übermensch. The person who creates their own values rather than inheriting them. I spent months dissecting his Three Metamorphoses of the Human Spirit. The camel bears the weight of inherited values. The lion rebels and destroys them. The child creates new ones.

I connected this to something I’d been observing in my own life and the people around me. There are people who don’t know and won’t act. There are people who don’t know but are willing to try. There are people who know but settle for comfort. And there are people who run toward challenge because there’s growth on the other side of struggle. Nietzsche was writing for that last group.

His greatest mistake was not presenting the Übermensch to the world. It was expecting everyone would listen.

Meanwhile in a Different Language

During the same years I was studying these texts, I was teaching myself Python and data analytics. I was manipulating arrays, vectors, and dataframes. Learning how to represent the world in numbers so a machine could work with it.

I was one degree away from machine learning and didn’t know it. I just hadn’t made the jump to the math proofs.

Here’s what I missed for years: the philosophy and the code weren’t separate tracks. They were the same just expressed in different languages.

When Socrates interrogates a definition until it breaks, he’s doing adversarial evals. He’s stress testing a representation of reality to find where it fails.

When Plato describes the Forms as “unchanging, immaterial standards against which we measure imperfect instances”, he’s describing an ontology. A schema. A canonical model that exists independent of any particular data point.

Aristotle literally invented formal categorization. His Categories is the first ontology. The discipline that practitioners (”ontologists”) use today is called ontology design because it is the same discipline. The word didn’t change because the problem didn’t change.

Isomorphism

Nietzsche questioning inherited categories is asking whether the assumptions baked into your representation of the world are actually correct.

In machine learning, this is the problem of feature engineering. The choices you make in how you represent data constrain what any system can learn from it.

What I’m Building Now

Now I’m studying knowledge graphs. Systems that model entities, their properties, and their relationships as traversable networks.

A knowledge graph lets you say things like: this person works at this company, this company is similar to three that churned last quarter, and this person’s role matches our ideal buyer profile. All of those relationships are queryable in milliseconds. Not inferred from a wall of unstructured text. Explicitly modeled and traversable.

I’m designing an architecture I call [redacted]. It sits between raw data sources and agents as an normalization layer. Instead of stuffing every piece of available data into an AI prompt and hoping the model can synthesize the important bits, [redacted] pre-structures that data as a graph telling the model what’s important to pay attention to, what it’s more important than, and why.

People connected to organizations connected to signals, with typed relationships that carry meaning.

The insight is simple but the implications are deep. Enrichment tools give you more data. A knowledge graph gives you structured relationships between data. The difference matters because when an agent needs to answer a complex question, the quality of the answer depends entirely on the quality of the representation it’s reasoning over.

To prove this, I’m building a prototype that compares two approaches side by side. One agent gets all the raw data serialized into its context window. The other agent queries the graph for only the structurally relevant subgraph. Same questions. Same underlying data. Different representations.

My hypothesis: the graph-driven agent produces better outputs consistently because the representation itself carries the reasoning.

The Thread

I’m sharing this because I think a lot of people, especially self-taught people who came up through non-traditional paths, don’t realize how coherent their journey actually is. The scattered interests aren’t scattered. They’re orbiting the same center of gravity.

You must to find the throughline connecting it all.

I spent years thinking the philosophy was separate from the code I was learning. That the code was separate from the business skills I was acquiring. It’s not.

Every domain I’ve worked in required the same fundamental skill: taking a messy, unstructured reality and imposing a representation on it that makes reasoning possible. When reasoning is possible, modeling is possible. When modeling is possible, predictibility emerges. When those predictability emerges, you have an edge.

Socrates did this with definitions. Plato did it with Forms. Aristotle did it with categories. Nietzsche did it by tearing down old categories and demanding new ones. I’m doing it with nodes and edges and query languages.

The question was always the same. I just kept approaching it from different starting points. Does the way you represent the world decide what you can learn from it? Everything I’ve studied and experienced says yes. How you model the world determines what you can learn from it.