Great. Another crucial consideration I missed. I was convinced that working on reducing the existential risk for humanity should be a global priority.
Upholding our potential and ensuring that we can create a truly just future seems so wonderful.
Well, recently I was introduced to the idea that this might actually not be the case.
The argument is rooted in suffering-focused ethics and the concept of complex cluelessness. If we step back and think critically though, what predicts suffering more than the mere existence of sentient beings—humans in particular? Our history is littered with pain and exploitation: factory farming, systemic injustices, and wars, to name just a few examples. Even with our best intentions, humanity has perpetuated vast amounts of suffering.
So here’s the kicker: what if reducing existential risks isn’t inherently good? What if keeping humanity alive and flourishing actually risks spreading suffering further and faster—through advanced technologies, colonization of space, or systems we can’t yet foresee? And what if our very efforts to safeguard the future have unintended consequences that exacerbate suffering in ways we can’t predict?
I was also struck by the critique of the “time of perils” assumption. The idea that now is a uniquely critical juncture in history, where we can reduce existential risks significantly and set humanity on a stable trajectory, sounds compelling. But the evidence supporting this claim is shaky at best. Why should we believe that reducing risks now will have lasting, positive effects over millennia—or even that we can reduce these risks at all, given the vast uncertainties?
This isn’t to say existential risk reduction is definitively bad—just that our confidence in it being good might be misplaced. A truly suffering-focused view might lean toward seeing existential risk reduction as neutral at best, and possibly harmful at worst.
It’s humbling, honestly. And frustrating. Because I want to believe that by focusing on existential risks, we’re steering humanity toward a better future. But the more I dig, the more I realize how little we truly understand about the long-term consequences of our actions.
So, what now? I’m not sure.
I am sick of missing crucial considerations. All I want to do is to make a positive impact. But no. Radical uncertainty it is.
I know that this will potentially cost me hundreds of hours to fully think through. It is going to cost a lot of energy if I pursue with this.
Right now I am just considering to pursue earning to give instead and donate a large chunk of my money to different worldviews and cause areas.
Reducing x-risk might be actively harmful
Great. Another crucial consideration I missed. I was convinced that working on reducing the existential risk for humanity should be a global priority.
Upholding our potential and ensuring that we can create a truly just future seems so wonderful.
Well, recently I was introduced to the idea that this might actually not be the case.
The argument is rooted in suffering-focused ethics and the concept of complex cluelessness. If we step back and think critically though, what predicts suffering more than the mere existence of sentient beings—humans in particular? Our history is littered with pain and exploitation: factory farming, systemic injustices, and wars, to name just a few examples. Even with our best intentions, humanity has perpetuated vast amounts of suffering.
So here’s the kicker: what if reducing existential risks isn’t inherently good? What if keeping humanity alive and flourishing actually risks spreading suffering further and faster—through advanced technologies, colonization of space, or systems we can’t yet foresee? And what if our very efforts to safeguard the future have unintended consequences that exacerbate suffering in ways we can’t predict?
I was also struck by the critique of the “time of perils” assumption. The idea that now is a uniquely critical juncture in history, where we can reduce existential risks significantly and set humanity on a stable trajectory, sounds compelling. But the evidence supporting this claim is shaky at best. Why should we believe that reducing risks now will have lasting, positive effects over millennia—or even that we can reduce these risks at all, given the vast uncertainties?
This isn’t to say existential risk reduction is definitively bad—just that our confidence in it being good might be misplaced. A truly suffering-focused view might lean toward seeing existential risk reduction as neutral at best, and possibly harmful at worst.
It’s humbling, honestly. And frustrating. Because I want to believe that by focusing on existential risks, we’re steering humanity toward a better future. But the more I dig, the more I realize how little we truly understand about the long-term consequences of our actions.
So, what now? I’m not sure.
I am sick of missing crucial considerations. All I want to do is to make a positive impact. But no. Radical uncertainty it is.
I know that this will potentially cost me hundreds of hours to fully think through. It is going to cost a lot of energy if I pursue with this.
Right now I am just considering to pursue earning to give instead and donate a large chunk of my money to different worldviews and cause areas.
Would love to get your thoughts.