I have long wrestled with the idea of antinatalism, so I should have something to say here. Certainly there were periods in my life in which I thought that the creation of life is the supreme folly.
We all know that terrible things happen, that should never happen to anyone. The simplest antinatalist argument of all is, that any life you create will be at risk of such intolerably bad outcomes; and so, if you care, the very least you can do is not create new life. No new life, no possibility of awful outcomes in it, problem avoided! And it is very easy to elaborate this into a stinging critique of anyone who proposes that nonetheless one shouldn’t take this seriously or absolutely (because most people are happy, most people don’t commit suicide, etc). You intend to gamble with this new life you propose to create, simply because you hope that it won’t turn out terribly? And this gamble you propose appears to be completely unnecessary—it’s not as if people have children for the greater good. Etc.
A crude utilitarian way to moderate the absoluteness of this conclusion would be to say, well, surely some lives are worth creating, and it would make a lot of people sad to never have children, so we reluctantly say to the ones who would be really upset to forego reproduction, OK, if you insist… but for people who can take it, we could say: There is always something better that you could do with your life. Have the courage not to hide from the facts of your own existence in the boisterous distraction of naive new lives.
It is probably true that philanthropic antinatalists, like the ones at the blog to which you link, are people who have personally experienced some profound awfulness, and that is why they take human suffering with such deadly seriousness. It’s not just an abstraction to them. For example, Jim Crawford (who runs that blog) was once almost killed in a sword attack, had his chest sliced open, and after they stitched him up, literally every breath was agonizing for a long time thereafter. An experience like that would sensitize you to the reality of things which luckier people would prefer not to think about.
You intend to gamble with this new life you propose to create, simply because you hope that it won’t turn out terribly?
Seems like loss aversion bias.
Sure, bad things happen, but so do good things. You need to do an expected utility calculation for the person you’re about to create: P(Bad)U(Bad) + P(Good)U(Good)
I think that for you, a student of the singularity concept, to arrive at a considered and consistent opinion regarding antinatalism, you need to make some judgments regarding the quality of human life as it is right now, “pre-singularity”.
Suppose there is no possibility of a singularity. Suppose the only option for humanity is life more or less as it is now—ageing, death, war, economic drudgery, etc, with the future the same as the past. Everyone who lives will die; most of them will drudge to stay alive. Do you still consider the creation of a human life justifiable?
Do you have any personal hopes attached to the singularity? Do you think, yes, it could be very bad, it could destroy us, that makes me anxious and affects what I do; but nonetheless, it could also be fantastic, and I derive meaning and hope from that fact?
If you are going to affirm the creation of human life under present conditions, but if you are also deriving hope from the anticipation of much better future conditions, then you may need to ask yourself how much of your toleration of the present derives from the background expectation of a better future.
It would be possible to have the attitude that life is already great and a good singularity would just make it better; or that the serious possibility of a bad singularity is enough for the idea to urgently command our attention; but it’s also clear that there are people who either use singularity hope to sustain them in the present, or who have simply grown up with the concept and haven’t yet run into difficulty.
I think the combination of transhumanism and antinatalism is actually a very natural one. Not at all an inevitable one; biotechnology, for example, is all about creating life. But if you think, for example, that the natural ageing process is intolerable, something no-one should have to experience, then probably you should be an antinatalist.
you may need to ask yourself how much of your toleration of the present derives from the background expectation of a better future.
I personally would still want to have been born even if a glorious posthuman future were not possible, but the margin of victory for life over death becomes maybe a factor of 100 thinner.
I have long wrestled with the idea of antinatalism, so I should have something to say here. Certainly there were periods in my life in which I thought that the creation of life is the supreme folly.
We all know that terrible things happen, that should never happen to anyone. The simplest antinatalist argument of all is, that any life you create will be at risk of such intolerably bad outcomes; and so, if you care, the very least you can do is not create new life. No new life, no possibility of awful outcomes in it, problem avoided! And it is very easy to elaborate this into a stinging critique of anyone who proposes that nonetheless one shouldn’t take this seriously or absolutely (because most people are happy, most people don’t commit suicide, etc). You intend to gamble with this new life you propose to create, simply because you hope that it won’t turn out terribly? And this gamble you propose appears to be completely unnecessary—it’s not as if people have children for the greater good. Etc.
A crude utilitarian way to moderate the absoluteness of this conclusion would be to say, well, surely some lives are worth creating, and it would make a lot of people sad to never have children, so we reluctantly say to the ones who would be really upset to forego reproduction, OK, if you insist… but for people who can take it, we could say: There is always something better that you could do with your life. Have the courage not to hide from the facts of your own existence in the boisterous distraction of naive new lives.
It is probably true that philanthropic antinatalists, like the ones at the blog to which you link, are people who have personally experienced some profound awfulness, and that is why they take human suffering with such deadly seriousness. It’s not just an abstraction to them. For example, Jim Crawford (who runs that blog) was once almost killed in a sword attack, had his chest sliced open, and after they stitched him up, literally every breath was agonizing for a long time thereafter. An experience like that would sensitize you to the reality of things which luckier people would prefer not to think about.
Seems like loss aversion bias.
Sure, bad things happen, but so do good things. You need to do an expected utility calculation for the person you’re about to create: P(Bad)U(Bad) + P(Good)U(Good)
P(Sword attack) seems to be pretty darn low.
I think that for you, a student of the singularity concept, to arrive at a considered and consistent opinion regarding antinatalism, you need to make some judgments regarding the quality of human life as it is right now, “pre-singularity”.
Suppose there is no possibility of a singularity. Suppose the only option for humanity is life more or less as it is now—ageing, death, war, economic drudgery, etc, with the future the same as the past. Everyone who lives will die; most of them will drudge to stay alive. Do you still consider the creation of a human life justifiable?
Do you have any personal hopes attached to the singularity? Do you think, yes, it could be very bad, it could destroy us, that makes me anxious and affects what I do; but nonetheless, it could also be fantastic, and I derive meaning and hope from that fact?
If you are going to affirm the creation of human life under present conditions, but if you are also deriving hope from the anticipation of much better future conditions, then you may need to ask yourself how much of your toleration of the present derives from the background expectation of a better future.
It would be possible to have the attitude that life is already great and a good singularity would just make it better; or that the serious possibility of a bad singularity is enough for the idea to urgently command our attention; but it’s also clear that there are people who either use singularity hope to sustain them in the present, or who have simply grown up with the concept and haven’t yet run into difficulty.
I think the combination of transhumanism and antinatalism is actually a very natural one. Not at all an inevitable one; biotechnology, for example, is all about creating life. But if you think, for example, that the natural ageing process is intolerable, something no-one should have to experience, then probably you should be an antinatalist.
I personally would still want to have been born even if a glorious posthuman future were not possible, but the margin of victory for life over death becomes maybe a factor of 100 thinner.