Ill conceived physics experiments, reckless experiments with viruses, unfriendly superintelligent AI. Dealing with each one of these will be a quagmire onto itself. But remember, existential risks are like nothing we've ever encountered before. We humans haven't been prepared by millennia of evolution like we have for other disasters. We're not equipped out of the box to deal with the existential risks that loom ahead in our near future. In fact, it's almost as if we're wired not to be able
to deal with them properly. And the more we look into it, it turns out the question of whether we'll be able to navigate our existential risks to a safe future is actually the same question as whether we'll be able to overcome ourselves. But for the moment, let's leave all that and go inside your body instead. You have tiny invisible robots moving through your blood stream. I should
say we're in the future. Let's say it's for the sake of keeping numbers nice and round, and pretty much everyone has tiny invisible robots moving through their blood stream. It's a good thing, actually, because these tiny robots act as a human design backup force for your immune system. You took them in a pill back in and the moment you pop that capsule into your mouth, your healthy
life expectancy increased by a hundred years. As the enzymes in your gut began to dissolve the capsule, your digestive fluids poured into it, and the sudden change in temperature and pH activated the first generation of nanobots inside. They came online, connected to their shared WiFi network, activated their propulsion systems, and passed through your gut wall into your
blood stream, fanning out through your body. Over the years, each of those first gen nanobots assemble copies of itself, and those copies make copies, and now three years on, you have a stable colony of tiny, invisible robots living inside of you. They search for pathogens to destroy. They prune cells that show signs of growing into tumors and repair the DNA inside to make sure they won't turn cancerous again. The clear plaque from the interiors of your
blood vessel. They assist insulin in removing sugars, fats, and proteins from your blood stream after you eat for storage. Later on, they assist in clearing neurotransmitters from your synapses after you've had a thought. They target fats to burn in areas of your body that you select through their app Everything your body did before, or should have done to keep itself in harmony, it does remarkably better now since you took that capsule back in. The nanoscale is
the scale of atoms. It's the smallest scale that we're able to manipulate, and we've only recently become able to do that. I should say we're back in the present time now. Depending on the species, a female mosquito will drink about five micro leaders of your blood five millions of a leader before flying off. Inside those five micro leaders slashing around to that mosquito's tiny stomach are around
twenty five million red blood cells. Just one of those red blood cells is made up of around one and twenty trillion atoms, and just one single hydrogen atom is a tenth of a nanometer in size. That's the scale of the world where nanobots will dwell. On this tiny level, nanobots are expected to eventually be able to do amazing things, magical things in the Arthur C. Clark sense of the term.
There are so many promises with nanotechnology that perhaps no other emerging field has such a wide scope of applications ready and waiting to be applied. Because they are the size of atoms, nanobots will be able to rearrange atoms, and so the materials they make will be manufactured to atomic precision. To us up here on the human scale, the things nanobots make will be flawless, since virtually any
material could be turned into any other material. Anything will qualify as raw material for anything else, which means that our current global waste problem will vanish, a happy byproduct of the global increase in material wealth that nanobots will provide. This will also mean the end of scarcity, since anyone with the nano factory at home, which will eventually be everyone as the technology spreads, will be able to make
whatever they like. But despite all of the golden promises, nanotechnology potentially holds in store, as we saw in the chapter on artificial intelligence, it poses an existential threat to us as well. Like every other technology that poses an
existential threat, it is dual use. It can be used to create both positive and negative outcomes for us, and really you can make the same case for basically any technology we humans have ever come up with Just to take one example, you can use paper towels as a handy way to clean up a spill or to start a house fire. But as with all other existential risks, the potential negative outcomes associated with nanotechnology have a vastly wider scope than a house fire started with the roll
of paper towels. There is, of course, that unpleasant outcome where in the way of our arch enemy, the paper clip maximizer, they disassemble us for use in some other form. But even now, in the air before nanobots, we've already
identified hazards from the current nanotechnology we have today. Because of their minute size, nanoparticles can irritate the lung tissue of humans who breathe them in much the same way that asbestos and silica can, possibly leading to cancer if the scar tissue that results isn't repaired in the body properly. Today's nanoparticles are also concerning because they are inorganic and there's no mechanism for them to degrade, which means they may persist in the environment forever as far as we
can tell right now. Ironically, both of these current problems with nanoparticles, they're potentially cause cancer and the possibility they persist forever can be solved by the nanobots of the future. There are other speculative ways that nanotechnology could turn out poorly. The most famous of the mall it was called the gray goo hypothesis, which was first put into words back in x by m I T Engineering professor and Future of Humanity Institute member Eric Drexler in his book Engines
of Creation. Gray Goo, as Drexler's pointed out, is a possible outcome from a poorly considered nanotech design where nanobots capable of replicating themselves and able to sustain themselves using energy harvested from the environment, say from plant material, would be able to exist outside of our control. At a certain point, they might enter a runaway exponential population explosion where their numbers grow so massive that they collectively become
visible to us. Is what would seem like a fluid, gooey substance actually made up of untold numbers of nanobots, all feeding on our environment, eventually overwhelming Earth and ruining the global biosphere, not to mention resulting in the eventual extinction of humanity. Ye Drexler has since publicly denounced his gray goog hypothesis, pointing out that it could only arise from an obvious and foreseeable flaw and design, not some
sort of trait that's inherent in nanobox. Drexler believes his hypothesis planted a seed in the media, which grew into a sensational thicket of vines covering the real work of nanotechnologists and choking the life from the field of research that he helped establish. A future event like gray goo eating the world from around us would qualify as what
existential risk. Philosopher Nick Bostrom calls subsequent ruination. Things start out for us just fine with the technology that we've built and mastered, but it somehow takes an unexpected left turn, and things ultimately end up broughten for us because of it, resulting in our eventual extinction. Bostrom wasn't the first philosopher to think about existential risks, but he innovated how we
see them. Here's Bostrom's colleague, philosopher Toby Ord. Thinking about existential risks really started in the twentieth century with the advent of nuclear weapons and the threat of major nuclear war. In the nineteen sixties, Bertrand Russell wrote about the threat of human extinction due to nuclear weapons, and in the nineteen eighties there are a few people, almost simultaneously who really got the bigger picture about extinction. Those people were
Jonathan Shall, Carl Sagan, and Derek Parfit. Then in the nineteen nineties, John Leslie wrote a fantastic book on extinction called The End of the World Um. And then in the two thousands, Nick Bostrom, my colleague, he really made a large number of major breakthroughs on this area. He was the one who expanded it out from ext action to existential risk, including a large number of other possibilities. All of what they will have in common is that
they would be the permanent loss of humanity's potential. Nick Bostrom realized that there are other possible outcomes of existential catastrophes beyond just the extinction of our species. There are, he realized, some fates for humanity that are even worse than death. There is of course, subsequent ruination like grey Goo, where our technology takes a bad turn and extinction follows later. But Bostrom also realized that we humans don't actually need
to go extinct to undergo an existential catastrophe. There are some scenarios where we could be broken as a species, left to limp along and definitely without the possibility of ever regaining the place in history where we fell from. Perhaps a virus killed most of humanity, and the genetic bottleneck that resulted lead to humans who were no longer capable of solving extremely complex problems, or who lost the
ability to coordinate with one another in large groups. Our species would be alive, sure, but our existence would be a shadow of what it was before, and the potential sunny future that may have been in store for humanity would be lost forever. Eventually, this loss of potential would be made permanent when a natural existential risk like an asteroid or supervolcano came along tens or hundreds of thousands of years down the road and drove us to extinction
once and for all. Bostrom calls this kind of scenario permanent stagnation, where the existential catastrophe comes long before extinction. It's a kind of catastrophe from which we could not recover possible end to the human story. Some way to permanently lock ourselves into some radically suboptimal state. There's also flawed realization an algorithm we create growing super intelligent beyond our expectations, and running a muck is an example of that.
It's akin to subsequent ruination, but without giving us even the brief period where we get to enjoy the full benefits of the technology before things go badly for us because of it. As much as Eric Drexler wishes that he had never written the words gray goo, he may have very well saved the world when he did, for better or worse. For the people currently working in the field of nanotechnology, he identified a potential catastrophic outcome that
we can plan to design against. One of the great benefits of thinking about the existential risk nanotechnology poses is that it's still in its infancy as a field and can be guided in safe ways, so that when we do live in a world of nanobots, we can be assured that they won't pose a threat then or down the road. But how we get there? How do we plan for a technology that doesn't actually exist yet in a field of research that only a minute fraction of
humans actually understand and feel qualified to talk about. How do we manage the media's understanding of the issues surrounding the field so that it doesn't cause unjustified panic among the public, which could turn against it and choke the life from it once and for all. And just as important, how do we ensure that the corporate and academic labs working on nanotechnology don't pursue dangerous lines of research and design.
If you've been asking yourself questions like these about the other existential risks I've talked about so far in this series, then you may have already hit upon the idea that we might need a singleton to guide us through the coming years to technological maturity. A singleton, in the sense that Nick Bostrom has applied it to existential risks, is a body capable of making the final decision for everyone on the plan in it. I'll let him explain it has singled on. Is uh just a world order? We're
at the highest level of decision making. There is only one decision making process. So, in other words, our world is where global coordination problems are. At least the most varitable coordination problems have been solved, So no more wars or arms races or technology races. Our pollution and destruction of the global commons one of the biggest challenges we
will face in the coming decades and centuries. Is coordinating on a global level, In other words, getting everyone to agree on the best way to move forward and addressing existential risks. We will need to study the issues, funnel some of the world's brightest minds towards identifying future existential risks, throw lots and lots of money at the problems, and figure out the best, safest way forward towards technological maturity.
But all the study, bright ideas, intricately mapped ways forward don't amount to anything if one person can undermine everything with a single accident. So we will need every single country on Earth to buy into this process right now. The geopolitical arrangement on Earth is based on the sovereignty of nations. Each country has its own borders and citizenry, and it's up to the country's government to make its
own decisions. There are lots of exceptions to this. Some governments make agreements that stitch their nations together to some degree, as seen in the European Union or the North American Free Trade Agreement, and sometimes one nation will invade another nation, resorting to force to influence the other government's decisions. For the most part, though the nations of the world leave it to the other nations of the world to make their own choices about how they function, this won't really
work in tackling a essential risks. We will need to all agree to abide by whatever we decide is the best way to proceed. But getting to this level of consensus can be messy, and you could see just how it could get that way with existential risks by taking a look at how humans have dealt with climate change.
The Inner Governmental Panel on Climate Change the i p c C is an offshoot of the United Nations that was set up back to study climate change and provide the world's governments with the best science about the issue and how to tackle it. An issue like climate change requires international cooperation because climate change effects everyone. It crosses the borders of the world, and so not only does
it affect everyone, it also requires action from everyone. To combat climate change, we need the cooperation of all nations for the collective public good, and it's exactly the same
with existential risks. The i p c C was chartered during a time when global geopolitics respects the sovereignty of nations, and that has proven a problem for it to take one example, Back in two thousand seven, when the i p c C issued its fourth Assessment on Global Climate Change, the body's reports on the current cutting edge scientific understanding of the issue. Words spread to media that the report
had been watered down by diplomacy. Saudi Arabia, one of the world's leading producers of fossil fuels, and China in the United States, two of the world's leading producers of emissions from burning those fossil fuels, use their influence to temper the report's findings on how fossil fuel use contributes to climate change, to make fossil fuel's role seem less
scientifically certain. As a result, the public was presented with findings that seemed much more doubtful about the role of fossil fuel emissions and climate change, a out that's still alive today. This could not be allowed to happen with existential risks. Climate change is one of the most important issues facing humanity today. Existential risks are the most important. So how do we create a body that's immune to diplomatic and economic pressures of countries as strong as the
U S, Saudi Arabia, and China. Answer is a singleton Our hypothetical singleton could arise from an international body organized to study and deal with existential risks. Let's call it our Existential Risks Commission. Just out of necessity, as the world wakes up to the real scope and severity of these risks, we may give that commission an enormous amount of power to override any nation's opposition to its findings and guidelines, which would mean an enormous change for global geopolitics,
but one we would likely feel was nest necessary. Our Existential Risks Commission would need to have teeth. One way it might ensure compliance among all nations is through a global surveillance network. We would need to keep tabs on all the scientists who work in fields that pose an existential threat, to make sure that they weren't secretly working on designs or experiments the Commission deemed too risky to pursue. The same goes for corporations that make products that use
risky technology. Our Commission would need to keep tabs on everyone really to monitor for signs of a black market developing and banned technology. So each government would be required to set up a surveillance network within its own borders and the existential risks, Commission would have access and ultimate
control over all of them. It should probably also monitor each nation's government as well, and we would probably also need to grant our Commission with some sort of military or policing power as a last resort, with a force that is capable of overwhelming any nations in the world. Or perhaps to make it easier, we would just allow the Commission to disband the world's militaries and maintain its own small force it could use to invade and easily
occupy any non complying nation. With a single decision making body in charge of determining the best way forward towards technological maturity, one equipped with unchecked authority, able to monitor every person alive on the planet, and to use the threat of violence to ensure that we all stay in line on our march toward a safe future. We may just make it through the next century or two and arrive at a point where the future of humanity is assured.
But as you may have noticed as I was describing it, a singleton can also pose an existential threat itself. That same global body we create to manage our existential risks could easily become totalitarian forming a permanent global dictatorship that no future generation could possibly overthrow m And it's about here that you might start to feel like, no matter what we do, humanity is doomed. In the early nineteen seventies,
the world started thinking about the environment. Everything we think of as normal today, recycling not throwing your trash out of your car window, using less energy, generally considering ourselves as stewards of the global biosphere. All of that finds its origin in the early seventies, and it's largely because of two books that came out around then. In Stanford University, entomology professor Paul Arelick and his wife Anne published a
book they co wrote called The Population Bomb. It was the culmination of years of Airlic's thoughts about the sustainability of the massive increase in population of humans and our effects on the Earth's finite resources. He decided that the outlook was not good. Aerlic prophesies that by the middle of the seventies the world would begin to see massive die offs of humans from starvation as we surpassed agricultures
carrying capacity. People didn't pay attention to the Airlocks books until Dr Erlic appeared on Late Night with Johnny Carson in nineteen seventy and spoke about the coming horror for an hour. Then they really began to pay attention. Around the time Paul Erlic was on Late Night, a handful of scientists from around the world have been assembled into a group by a wealthy Italian industrialist. They were called
the Club of Rome. The scientists had devised computer models to build forecasts of humanity's future based on trends like resource use, pollution, and population growth. They saw pretty much the same doom in their crystal ball that Aerlic did, mass starvation, collapsing society, widespread pollution, and the attendant negative impacts on health that carries. The only silver lining to the Club of Rome's report, which they called The Limits to Growth, was that we had perhaps until before we
saw the worst of it. Both books and the media's coverage of them got the world's attention, but this was not a new idea. The Club of Rome and Paul Alick followed in the tradition of Thomas Malthus, the eighteenth century clergyman and demographer who was the first to write
about the limits of agriculture. Malthus pointed out that while humans can multiply exponentially the resources we get from the Earth, what we call natural capital, do not, which means that because of our propensity to place an emphasis on growing our species, we humans are essentially doomed to outstrip Earth's resources at some point, including, as Malthus pointed out, our
food supply. In the mid sixties, before Airlick's book was published, there was widespread famine in India, and during the seventies and eighties there were additional widespread payments in the Horn of Africa. But if anything, the Population Bomb is the story of a global catastrophe that was averted. As bad as the famines around the world have been, things could have been much much worse. Unbeknownst to most of the world.
Thirty years before The Population Bomb and The Limits to Growth were published, a few groups, like the Rockefeller Foundation began working to figure out how to expand the carrying capacity of agriculture, and they were successful, thanks in large part to a man raised on a farm in Iowa named Norman Borlog. Borlog had been hired by the Rockefeller Foundation to oversee their research station in Mexico, which was established with the Mexican government to find ways to improve wheat.
It's difficult to think of any kind of work that sounds more boring than improving wheat, but Borlog managed to do just that. He improved wheat, and today he is widely and frequently credited with saving the lives of a billion people who would have otherwise starved to death without it.
Brologs high yield wheat and an improved type of rice that was developed at the same time at another research station in the Philippines could triple the amount of grain a single plant could produce, which means that farmers could suddenly get three times more grain from the same amount of land. So both the food supply and the income of much of the world's global poor increased dramatically in a very short time, which means that the world was saved.
Between nineteen seventy and nineteen seventy five, the amount of rice produced in Asia grew by on it doubled in just a few years. The needle on Earth's caring capacity for agriculture moved from quivering worryingly at the red line along the end of the dial to somewhere comfortably back around the halfway mark. Norman Borlog rightly or in the nineteen seventy Nobel Peace Prize for his work Ever the
White Knight. He used the attention to stress that he only bought the world some breathing room while it figured out how to deal with its population monster, as he called it. The story of how Norman Borlog defused Paul Alick's population bomb pretty well gets across the idea of what's called techno optimism. Techno optimism is the full faith some people play some technology to get us out of
any jam. Really, it's faith in human ingenuity. One proposal for dealing with global warming brought on by climate change is to add air assaults that reflects solar radiation into the atmosphere. We would in effect be bolstering the atmosphere's ability to already do this, lending a very important natural process a technological hand. This would actually be a comparatively
easy task. We could do it with current technology, and so a techno optimist would say, we probably don't need to worry much about global temperatures from climate change, since we already have a way of inventing a solution. But what if a hundred years from now we find that those aerosols we've added are working too well. Global temperatures are actually starting to drop, and our crops are in danger of failing worldwide. No problem. A hundred years from now,
we will almost certainly have mastered nanotechnology. We can just deploy them into the atmosphere to deal with the issue. We could probably program them so they not only disintegrate the aerosols, they could also rearrange them into a different type of aerosol, like black soot or sulfates that absorb sunlight, which would heat the glow back up more quickly, so we could avoid those widespread crop failures back on Earth.
In fact, now that we think of it, we might as well just leave the nanobots up there to keep tabs on global tempera tures and adjust the atmosphere is ability to absorb or reflect solar radiation at any given moment, kind of like how they'll eventually keep our bodies humming along in an optimal state. But what if our nanobots turn out to not have been designed perfectly and they end up entering a runaway replication scenario like the gray
goo hypothesis or something worse. At this point, most techno optimists would pinch the bridge of their nose and try to muster more patients gray goo, they might answer, is almost certainly not going to happen, and even if it did, it would be so far off in the future that you can rest assured we would find a way to use some other type of technology we haven't even thought of yet to handle it. The more you drill into any given problem, the more it seems like technology can
get us out of it. It has so far, and it probably can continue to in the future. But the fatal flaw of techno optimism is that it tends to discourage planning foresight, which I'm hoping that by now in the series you've come to realize is of vital importance.
Rather than taking steps to head off the problem today, like reducing carbon emissions, we can instead keep a fairly sunny outlook that we will eventually handle it with aerosols, then nanobots, then something else we haven't even thought of yet. The problem, though, is that if any link in that chain breaks down, if the innovation doesn't work or it comes too late, then we've missed our chance to avoid the crisis. And there's another issue with techno optimism. Sometimes
our solutions to the problem actually make things worse. You would be hard pressed to find a person alive that faulted Norman Borlog for his work. But the green revolution, the expansion of agriculture's care and capacity that he midwifed, requires farmers to use enormous amounts of fertilizer and irrigation, which tends to cause runoff to waterways that absorb the
nutrients themselves, harming the aquatic ecosystems. This intensive farming also depletes the nutrients in the soil, which means that today, decades after Borlogs wheat made its debut, farmers put in more fertilizer than ever before, while the amount of food
they harvest has plateaued. To put the icing on the cake, the fertilizer requires large inputs of energy to produce, which in two thousand and eleven amounted to emissions of about six billion metric tons of greenhouse gases from the world's farm were about of the global total. Rather than taking the breathing room Borlog gave us to deal with the underlying issues we have. The collective techno optimism it brought on encouraged us to just kick the can down the road.
Well we've come upon the can again. Hopefully we'll figure out a way to kick it. Those unwanted knock on effects of the green revolution of techno optimism, even the hypothetical singleton I talked about earlier, they formed the basis of an argument against taking steps to mating existential risks. Doing something could possibly make things even worse. You could
call this the Gilligan effect. Helpfulness results in calamity. It is, perhaps unsurprisingly, not the only argument people make against taking existential risks we face seriously. It is to our great misfortune that we are being presented with the responsibility of dealing with existential risks at this point in human history. It was only perhaps fifty to a hundred thousand years ago that humans started being born with the full package
of behaviors and intelligence that make us uniquely human. Our ability to reason and think abstractly, to imagine different futures, our ability to organize. Imagine if we had had another hundred thousand years to continue to evolve before the existential risks will have to address appeared on our horizon. But that's not how the chips have fallen. Instead, it has come upon us while we are in what Carl Sagan called our technological adolescence the most dangerous phase on the
way to technological maturity. It is up to those of us alive in the twenty one century. We bear responsibility for saving the future of the human race, and we have come up with plenty of reasons why we shouldn't, or, more to the point, why we won't. Probably first among them is that the chance of one of these risks befalling us is so small, so utterly remote, they're not
even worth considering. It is true that the chance of an existential catastrophe like an altered pathogen escaping a lab and creating a pandemic, is extremely remote, But as more labs conduct more risk experiments around the world, the probability of that remote risk begins to compound. And the same is true in other fields. As new particle colliders run higher energy experiments, as more companies deploying more self improving algorithms on the global networks, what was once a mere
remote possibility of existential catastrophe becomes decidedly less remote. I think there are various forms of arguments against dealing with existentialies, some of them much better than others. So I think the heads in the sound ob the action, Oh, it won't happen or it hasn't ever happened before. That is a really bad one, But it's of course psychologically rabbi common because it fits with the cognitive biases. That was
Ander Sandberg, philosopher from the Future of Humanity Institute. In addition to all of the advanced behaviors that we humans have evolved that had served us so well, we also operate using some extremely ancient techniques too, short cuts that allow us to deal with everyday life, but can break down when we're faced with things that are out of
the ordinary. What results are called biases. Take, for example, being presented with the fork in the road, given that both paths look equally inviting, we might have trouble choosing. But say we've been presented with the same decision elsewhere, with other forks and other roads before, and we've usually
taken the left path. Since nothing bad happened to us all those other times we've chosen to go left, we would feel pretty sure nothing will this time either, So we head down the left path this time too, whistling without a care in the world, totally unaware of the family of hungry bears ahead. Our cognitive biases can make us overconfident, suspicious of new things, optimistic, pessimistic, frozen within decision. We are, you could say, a little hamstrung by them.
But even when we managed overcome our biases or set them aside, which we will need to when we're dealing with existential risks, there are still plenty of other reasons we can come up with to avoid addressing them. For one,
even discussing this type of risk can be dangerous. Such talk can have a chilling effect on a field that's struggling to establish itself, as Eric Drexler found when he let the gray Goo genie out of the bottle and engines of creation, talking about things like AI becoming super intelligent and taking control of our world can really go a long way to turning the public off from the
idea of scientists working on building self improving thinking machines. Besides, as most machine intelligence researchers will point out, at this stage in its development, the field is capable of producing a machine that's perhaps as smart as a three year old, or even if it is advanced, it's advanced at just one thing like finding patterns and medical charts or identifying cap pictures, we don't need to worry about a. In
other words, this argument seems shortsighted. If it is the case that we're at a point where we can still fully control our artificial intelligence, then now is the best time to plan for the potential future outcomes they might bring, so that we can ensure as best as we can that they will continue to remain under our control. It's probably not the best idea to wait until tomorrow simply because they don't pose a threat today. Here is Oxford
philosopher Sebastian Farquhar. If we had started working on really small nuclear explosives in the eighties and thought that we could sort of maybe c OA to scale it up to weapons with vastly more explosive power than we'd ever imagined before, but it wasn't quite clear that it was going to work or not. Um, I think it would have been irresponsible at that point not to invest at least some thought and what would happen if nuclear weapons
did reach the stage that they reached the forties. And so that's sort of where I see us now, is not, you know, not confidently saying super intelligent a g I is around the corner, but rather saying, you know, this might be it might be a turning point for um intelligence on this planet, and if that turning point is around the corner, it would be useful for some people to start laying the groundwork for making that turning point safe. But it's difficult to fault people who work in fields
like AI and others. The very same people who witness firsthand the extremely slow and frustrating progress in the state of the technology that we on the outside don't see, not to mention it's their careers that are on the line off the public turns cold to their field. People who work in AI, nanotechnology, particle physics, and other fields that will eventually emerge have dedicated and will dedicate their
adult lives to this research. Currently, we rely on these same people who are working on the science and technology that may pose an existential risk to tell us whether they're safe or not, which puts the whole world in a very difficult position. Here's Eric Johnson, the law professor who investigated the potential risks posed by particle colliders. I don't think there's any particle physicists out there who are
mad scientists bent on destroying the earth. They're they're good people, and there's there's none of them who are you know, as sociopaths who would uh knowingly put the earth at a at a big risk of being destroyed. But there's a question about when you're when you're making these subjective
judgments about how to build this model. If you are self interested, if if your employer, if all of your friends, if your whole professional life is built around this community, this project, are you likely to go a little easier on the risk assessment than someone else might be. And I think that that's an open question. I think it's a fair question. In addition to careers, there's also money at stake, not just public funding for research projects at universities,
but perhaps most intractable of all corporate profits. Scaring the public can cause these funds and these profits to dry up, which has a real world effect like people losing their jobs and fields of research freezing over. It's happened before. In October, the US Congress effectively shuttered the American physics community when it cut off funding for the super Conducting
super Collider, a particle accelerator outside of Dallas. It would have had a track almost four times the circumference of the Large Hadron Collider and would have been capable of achieving particle collisions at three times the energy of the LHC. It would have been a landmark particle collider, one with power that we still haven't reached today would have been but it never had the chance to because Congress decided that the project was too expensive and too difficult to understand.
So after having spent already two billion dollars on the project, Congress withdrew any further support, and the super Conducting super Collider was never finished. Uh six months ago, the Congress voted to terminate the super Conducting super Collider project. As Eric Johnson explained in the previous chapter, the particle physics community tends to be arranged around the most powerful collider
at any given time. So American physicists reeled from the loss of their collider and the subsequent funding cuts that followed in physics departments and universities across the country. In the meantime, the LHC began to rise, and the seat of physics moved through the Earth like a new trino, from beneath the plains of Texas to a hundred meters below the countryside between Switzerland and France. This underscores an extremely important point. The ways to alleviate existential risks in
the future is to deal with them now. But dealing with them may mean that those of us living today would be asked to sacrifice our jobs or careers, money, comfort, health, all for the sole benefit of people who we will never meet, people whose great great grandparents great grandparents haven't even been born yet. To put it in other terms,
what have future humans ever done for us? You could actually make a pretty good case that if they were able to figure out a way to pay us to alter our behavior so that their safe future was guaranteed, future humans would almost certainly give us whatever we wanted. But they can't, So it's entirely up to our good will to choose whether we will take steps to mitigate the threats to the future of the human rights, which doesn't necessarily bode well for the future of the human rights.
Like we talked about before with climate change, there are things that everyone around the world shares resources, air, water, anything that everyone is affected by and benefits from. We call those things global commons. There's a widely held viewpoint that commons of any type must be collectively managed because we humans have a propensity to take as much as
we can from them. If everyone has equal access to the commons, and the commons is some limited resource, then, speaking at a very basic level, every rational person has an incentive to take as much as they can before everyone else does. If this mentality is present among enough people,
then we quickly deplete whatever common resources plentiful before. This is what ecologists Garrett Harden called the tragedy of the commons in a paper which he wrote among the same climate of doom that the population bomb was published in. It too follows the reasoning of Thomas Malthus. The commons works just fine until there are too many people taking too much from it. Then it crosses a threshold and
it becomes spoiled for everyone. Harden wrote that he used the word tragedy not in the sense of unhappiness, but rather the remorseless working of things. The tragedy of the commons is in inevitability, he reasoned. Now it is true that at any moment, there are plenty of people who will take no more than their fair share from the commons, and in some cases even less, and some will act
as stewards for the greater good. But the tragedy of the commons does exist, and we see it in resistance to things like caps on carbon dioxide emissions, which affect the global commons of the atmosphere. We have a hard enough time managing our current commons, but the future that we're being asked to protect is also a commons as well, and one with an added twist. Not only is the future of commons for those of us alive today, we
also share it with those to come. If you think about what existential risk mitigation is, it's a common squared as it were, in that not only is it a global public good existential risk mitigation, but it's also of transgenerational public good in that most of the benefits would be bestowed to these titure generations that could come into existence. They have no say whatsoever and what we are doing now. Unfortunately, those people that come can't do anything to be good
stewards of our shared comments. It's entirely up to us alive today to take whatever steps are necessary to protect the global pan generational commons that is the future, which makes people who haven't been born yet what economists call free riders. They reap the benefits of the sacrifices others make without contributing their fair share in this case, simply because it's impossible for them too. But we humans tend to resent all free riders, and not just us humans.
We found behavior all over the animal kingdom that punishes free riders, which means that resentment is deeply ingrained. Free riders violate a basic sense of fairness that we hold dear. The trouble is when people sense free riders in their midst they tend to cut off their contributions, so everyone loses. We have a lot to overcome if we're going to
take on our existential risks. On the next episode of the End of the World with Josh Clark, it is possible to take something which is not really part of common sense morality, and then within a generation, children are being raised everywhere with this as part of just a background of beliefs about ethics that that they live with. So I really think that we could achieve that there is hope