Temporary

You know those stories where the rogue AI realizes that the only way to make humanity happy, peaceful, or good, is to remove humanity? Or maybe a genie or magician misinterprets a wish along the same lines. 

These stories, at least the ones I have engaged with, don’t seem bothered to make an argument for why this was a misinterpretation of their task. It just has to be wrong, because it feels wrong. Perhaps it relies on the assumption of selfishness, that the audience would automatically understand the problem when someone becomes the cause of their own demise. 

But they’re just stories. They’re not real, why should I root for humanity over moral clarity? I don’t root for the hunters in movies about baby deer. But they probably ate that doe, no different than I would. And that’s the thing about humans. We’re always so hungry.

This thought experiment against hedonistic utilitarianism is everywhere in media. Infinite Jest, and, more recently, the television show, Pluribus both engage in this. And nobody ‘sane’ roots for that film cartridge or alien virus. Of course, these stories, just like those of robots, include the ultimate threat of total annihilation of conscious beings, which covers their bases, but makes the question much less interesting. 

Sure, something is always better than nothing, because nothing can come from nothing (allegedly). But, why is it so hard to ask a more difficult question?

Anti-natalists exist, along with many degrowth style anarchists or ascetic groups. It has been obvious for quite a while that we are the cause of all our problems, and that having less of us, or at least less of the stuff we create, would be better for everyone.

And, at every level, we are all temporary. 

Almost a year ago now, I wrote a short blog post about the value of experience. I said that I hoped to live for things that I would one day miss. And I believe I have so far succeeded. I look fondly upon two weeks spent sleeping in my car, the purpose of teaching in New York City, the experiences I had in that city, and, I know, when I am done with my current degree, I’ll miss the friends and life I’ve had here.

That is to say, we all want to live, even if it is just for the memory.

But, when I look at all the harms of the world, all I can see is the same greed that keeps us alive. 

I do not think that the anti-natalists are right, and I do not think that Vince Gilligan is right either.

Both rely on the belief that this ever-present greed is inherent to what it means to be human; that to fight this greed is a battle that only the few and the enlightened can ultimately win. 

Aristotle proposed that virtue lies in moderation: in finding the middle of two extremes. While his proposal is philosophically absurd since extremities are incredibly subjective (among its many other problems), it is useful to consider here. You can just choose to be selfish about staying alive but not if you have to kill a bunch of people to do it. And, most importantly, you can choose to not be selfish about getting richer if it involves invading a foreign country to do it. 

Most people would agree with these statements, but, our stories and ascetics tell us that this greed is natural, and, on a population scale nothing can be done about it besides annihilation. This seems to manufacture consent and acceptance for the way the world is, which leads to nothing changing.

But, I have a conviction that the extreme of greed is taught. And, I know that, regardless, it can be unlearned.

It is, like all things, at every level, temporary. 

This is why it is so consequential.