Our Duty as Era-Spanners
Understanding the world before and after a major technological change creates an opportunity and obligation to guide how moral questions are answered.
Those of us that are mid-range millennials span eras. And that is important.
We have one foot in the era that pre-dates the internet. We remember personal computers that weren’t networked – whether it was Windows 3.1, DOS prompts, or Reader Rabbit software we had to install via a floppy disk.
We have another foot in the internet era. We remember that sound of telephone modems and “you’ve got mail” which ushered us into the networked age.
This is the same with mobile phones and social media. Just as we witnessed the transformation from landlines to smartphones, our generation experienced a dramatic shift in how we communicate and consume information. Those of us born within +/- 5 years of 1987 didn't just observe these changes; we lived them. We navigated from the simplicity of phone calls and printed newspapers to the complexities of instant messaging and social media feeds. This journey from dial-up connections to Wi-Fi, from bulky desktops to sleek smartphones, gives us a profound understanding of how these advancements have reshaped society.
Consider the children who are about 10 years old today. They are poised to become the next generation of era spanners, mirroring our experiences but with a different technological frontier: generative AI. This shift is akin to our transition from analog to digital, but for them, it's from digital to AI-driven. As with the journey we mid-range millennials undertook, these mid-range alphas will face even higher stakes. They will navigate a world where AI is not just a tool, but a fundamental part of daily life – shaping how they learn, interact, and understand the world. Our experiences can serve as a guiding light for them, showing the importance of adaptability and ethical considerations in a rapidly changing tech landscape.
The escalating power of technology underscores the critical need for strong moral character. It's not just about the tools we use; it's about who we are as we use them. As technology's reach extends, touching every aspect of our lives, it becomes imperative that those who wield these powerful tools – that's us – do so with a keen sense of ethics and responsibility. Our character shapes how we employ these technologies, whether to create and innovate for the betterment of society or, conversely, to cause harm. Hence, nurturing a well-rounded character is more than personal growth; it's a societal necessity.
Our place between the pre- and post-internet worlds is more than just a quirky fact. It places us in a unique position to understand both worlds. This insight is vital, not just for nostalgia, but for making sense of how we got here and where we're heading. We’re not just observers; we're interpreters, capable of seeing the implications of technological shifts from both sides. This perspective isn't just valuable – it’s essential for guiding the responsible use of technology. It’s about using our understanding to help steer things in a positive direction.
In essence, our role as mid-rangers is much like that of a bridge, connecting two different landscapes. This isn’t just about standing between two eras; it's about actively facilitating the journey from what was to what will be. It requires resilience, a firm understanding of both sides, and the foresight to navigate potential challenges. We’re not just passively spanning a gap – we’re actively ensuring a safe passage into the future. It’s a significant responsibility, one that calls for thoughtfulness and a commitment to guiding progress in the right direction.
Resistance against easy
The easy path is attractive. But what would that make me? What would that make us?
At my angriest or most exhausted especially, I question whether my effort to do the right thing makes a difference.
And then I wonder if I should be a bit more “flexible” in how I choose to act. Because…
…I could angle for a promotion by courting competing offers that I never intend to take.
…I could get my colleagues to bend to my will by shaming them a little during a team meeting, sending a nasty email, or politicking with their boss.
…I could yell more at my kids or threaten them with no more ice cream.
…I could pawn domestic responsibilities off on my wife or run to my parents to bail me out.
…I could adhere to a rule of “no new friends” and prioritize the relationships in my life based on social status or what that person can do for me.
…I could say “because I said so”, much more.
…I could make all my blog posts click bait or say things I don’t actually believe to get more popular.
…I could find reasons to take more business trips or weekends with buddies to get away.
…I could play with facts to make them more persuasive.
…I could keep my head down if I notice little problems or injustices that others don’t.
…I could stop listening or talk over quieter people so that I can be heard.
…I could just throw away the toys the kids leave all over the floor.
…I could tear down others ideas, with no viable alternatives, to gain supporters.
…I could, literally, sweep dust under the rug.
…I could do these things to make it a little easier.
Lots of people do, right?
And honestly, I for sure still fail my better angels no matter how hard I try. I’m no perfect man, especially when it it comes to that one about yelling at my kids (yikes).
But damn, if I did shit like this on purpose, what would that make me?
“But what would that make me?” is all I need to ask myself when I want to stop trying so hard. That sets me straight when I want to loosen up a little on principles.
I share all this because I’m feeling the weight of the daily grind a little extra today. And I know I’m not the only one who fights the urge to compromise on their principles, even just slightly.
We could. But what would that make us?
How We Should Treat Aliens
Thinking about how to treat aliens, helps us think about how we treat each other.
How should I treat a glass of water? Here are a few gut reactions:
I should not shatter it senselessly on the floor. Effort and resources went into making the glass. Destroying it for no reason would be wasteful.
I should keep it clean and in good working order. That way, there’s no stress because it’s ready for use. There’s no need to inconvenience someone else with even a trivial amount of unnecessary suffering.
I should use it in a way that’s helpful. It would be exploitative, in a way, if I took a perfectly good glass and used it as a weapon. If it’s there, I might as well use it to quench thirst, or do something else positive with it. Even glasses are better used for noble purposes than ignoble ones.
If I’m thirsty, I should drink the water. After all, it’s here and it won’t be here for ever - life is short.
And finally, if someone else is thirsty, I should share what I have. After all, we’re all in this together, trying to survive in a lonely universe.
How should I treat an alien?
The thought experiment of the glass of water is interesting because I don’t know how the glass wants to be treated. I can’t communicate with the glass, so I don’t even know if it has preferences. It is after all, just a glass.
And because the glass doesn’t have any discernible preferences, all my suppositions on how to treat the glass are a reflection of my own intuitions about how other beings should be treated. The question is a revealing one, if one chooses to play along with the thought experiment, because I’m asking a question that’s usually reserved for sentient being about an inanimate object. I can more easily access my true, unbiased, preference because I’m thinking about how to treat a glass of water and not, say, my wife and children.
Helpfully, asking the question revealed some of my deep-seeded moral principles. Each of these intuitions are builds on one of the statements I made above:
Don’t be wasteful - energy, and resources are finite.
Be kind - other beings feel pain so it’s good not to inflict suffering unnecessarily.
Have good intentions - I have the chance to make the world better, using my talents for good purposes. The world can be cruel, so why not make it more tolerable for others.
Uncertainty matters - Sooner is better than later because we don’t know how much time we have left. If you have an opportunity, take it. The opportunity cost of time is high, and the future has a risk of not happening the way we want it to.
Cooperate if you can - we are all in this universe together, nobody can help us but each other. Life is precious, beautiful, and so rare in this universe, so we should try to keep it going even if it requires sacrifices.
Like a glass of water, if we were to come across an alien species, we would not know what their preferences were. But unlike a glass of water, the aliens might actually have preferences - presumably, the aliens wouldn’t be inanimate objects.
And let’s assume for a minute that we out to respect the moral preferences of aliens, though I acknowledge that whether or not to recognize the moral standing of aliens is a different question, which we may not answer affirmatively.
But let’s say we did.
How we should treat aliens (and how they might treat us)
What this thought experiment helps to reveal is that we have meta-constraints that shape our moral intuitions and in turn, affect our moral preferences.
It matters to our morality that resources and energy are finite. It matters to our morality that we feel mental and physical pain. It matters that the world is an imperfect, sometimes brutal, place. It matters that the future is uncertain. It matters that life is fragile and that for the entirety of our history we’ve never found it anywhere else. Our reality is shaped by these constraints and manifest in how we think about moral questions.
So, like many difficult questions I only have a probabilistic answer to the question of how we should treat aliens: I think it depends. If they face the same sorts of constraints we do, maybe we should treat them as we treat humans. If they face the same constraints we do - like finite resources, uncertainty, and the feeling of physical pain - maybe we could also expect them to treat us with a strangely familiar morality, that even feels human.
But what if? What if the aliens’ face no resource constraints? What if their life spans are nearly infinite? What if their predictive modeling of the future is nearly perfect? What if they know of life existing infinitely across the universe? If some of these “facts” we believe to be universal, are only earthly, it’s quite possible that the aliens’ moral framework is, pun intended, quite alien to our own.
Maybe we’ll encounter aliens 10,000 years or more from now, and maybe it’ll be next week. Who knows. I hope if you are a human from the far out future, relative to my existence in the 21st Century, I hope you find this primitive thought experiment helpful as you prepare to make first contact. More than anything, I’m trying to offer an approach to even contemplate the question of alien morality: one tack we can take is to look at the meta-constraints that affect us at the species and planetary level, and then see how the aliens’ constraints compare.
But for all us living now, in the year of our lord, two thousand twenty two, I think there’s still a takeaway. Thinking about how we should treat glasses of water and aliens provides a window into our own sense of right and wrong. Maybe we can use these same discerned principles to better understand other cultures and other periods of history. Do other cultures have different levels of scarcity or uncertainty, for example? Maybe that affects their culture’s moral attitudes, and we can use that insight to get along better.
If we’re lucky, doing this sort of comparative moral analysis will make the people and species we share this planet with feel a little less, well, alien, while we figure out who else is out there in the universe.