Sunday


global civilization

Teleology and Deontology

In moral theory we distinguish between teleological ethical systems and deontological ethical systems. Teleological ethics (also called consequentialism, in reference to consequences) focus on the end of an action, i.e., that actual result, as that which makes an action praiseworthy or blameworthy. The word “teleological” comes from the Greek telos (τέλος), which means end, goal, or purpose. Deontological ethics focus on the motivation for undertaking an action, and is sometimes referred to as “duty-based” ethics; the word “deontological” derives from the Greek deon (δέον), meaning “duty.”

John Stuart Mill, the great utilitarian moral philosopher, and, by extension, teleologist.

John Stuart Mill, the great utilitarian moral philosopher, and, by extension, teleologist.

The philosophical literature on teleology and deontology is vast. From this vast literature the history of moral philosophy gives us several well known examples of both teleological and deontological ethics. Utilitarianism is often cited as a paradigmatic example of teleological ethics, as utilitarianism (in one of its many forms) holds that an action is to be judged by its ability to bring about the greatest happiness for the greatest number of persons (also known as the greatest happiness principle). Kantian ethics is usually cited as the paradigmatic case of deontological ethics; Kant placed great emphasis upon duty, and held that nothing is good in itself except the good will. These philosophical expressions of the ideas of teleology and deontology also have vernacular expressions that largely coincide with them, as, for example, when teleological views are expressed as, “the ends justify the means,” or when deontological views are expressed as “justice be done though the heavens may fall.”

Immanuel Kant, the patron saint of all deontological ethics.

Immanuel Kant, the patron saint of all deontological ethics.

The vast literature on deontology and teleological also points to many examples that show these categories of ethical thought to be overly schematic and, in some cases, to cut across each other. For example, if we characterize teleological ethics in terms of the aim to be achieved by an action, a distinction can be made between the actual consequences of an action and the intended consequences of an action. The intended consequences of an action may be understood deontologically as the motivation for undertaking an action. Part of this problem can be addressed by tightening up the terminology and the logic of the argument, but, as has been noted, the literature is vast and many sophisticated arguments have been advanced to demonstrate the interpenetration of teleological and deontological conceptions. We must, then, regard this distinction as a rough-and-ready classification that admits of exceptions.

Teleology and Deontology in a Social Context

We can take these ideas of teleological and deontological ethics and apply them not only to individual action but to social action, and thus speak of the actions of social groups of human beings in teleological or deontological terms, i.e., we can speak in terms of the coordinated actions of a group being undertaken primarily in order to achieve some end, or actions undertaken as ends-in-themselves. This suggests the extrapolation of teleological and deontological conceptions to the largest social formations, and the largest social formation known to us is civilization. Can a civilizaiton entire be teleological or deontological in its outlook? Does a civilization have a moral outlook?

I will assume, without arguing in detail, that a civilization can have a moral outlook, understanding that this is a generalization that holds across a civilization, and that the generalization admits of numerous important exceptions. Elsewhere I have noted the Darwinian perspective that any social group of animals that lives together in sufficient density for a sufficient period of time will evolve social customs for interaction. (This is a position that has been further explored in our time by Frans de Waal and Soshichi Uchii.) The lifeway of a particular people is coextensive with social conventions necessary for a social species to live together in a reasonable degree of harmony; what distinguishes regional permutations of lifeways are the climate and available domesticates. Both ethics and civilization grow from this common root, hence the xenophobia of traditionalist civilizations that unproblematically equate the peculiarities of a particular regional civilization with the good in and of itself.

Can this synthesis of lifeways and ethos that marks out a regional civilization (and which is consolidated in the process of axialization) be characterized as overall teleological or deontological orientation in some particular cases? This is a more difficult question, and rather than tackling it directly, I will discuss the question from various perspectives drawn from an overview of the history of civilization.

Teleology and Deontology in Agrarian-Ecclesiastical Civilization

The emergence of settled agrarian-ecclesiastical civilization presents us with an archaeological horizon that appears globally in widely dispersed locations but at approximately the same time. (An archaeological horizon is “a widely disseminated level of common art and artifacts.” Wikipedia) Prior to an actual horizon, there are a great many suggestive sites that imply both domestication and semi-settled lifeways, but at a certain level (between 9 and 11 thousand years before present) the traces of large scale settlement and domestication of plants and animals becomes common. This is the horizon of civilization (or, more narrowly, the horizon of agrarian-ecclesiastical civilization).

The horizon of agrarian-ecclesiastical civilization exhibits global characteristics that eventually culminate in the Axial Age, when regional civilizations are given definitive expression in mythological terms. Through separately emergent, these civilizations exhibit common features of settlement, division of labor, social hierarchy, a conception of the world, of human nature, and of the relation between the two that are expressed in mythological form, which in being made systematic (an early manifestation of the human condition made rigorous) become the central organizing idea of the civilizations that followed. This period represents the bulk of human civilization history to date, a period lasting almost ten thousand years.

Recently on my other blog I undertook a series on religious experiences and religious observances from hunter-gatherer nomadism through contemporary industrial-technological civilization and on into the future — cf. Settled and Nomadic Religious Experience, Religious Experience in Industrial-Technological Civilization, Religious Experience and the Future of Civilization, Addendum on Religious Experience and the Future of Civilization, and Responding to the World we Find — and thinking of religious observances emergent from human religious experience it is difficult to say whether these ritual observances are performed in the spirit of teleology or deontology, i.e., whether it is the consequences of the ritual that matters, or if the ritual has intrinsic value and ought to be conducted regardless of consequences. This may be one of the many cases in which teleological and deontological categories cut across each other. Agrarian-eccleasiastical civilization at times seems to formulate its central organizing principle of religious observance in terms of the intrinsic value of the observance, and in times in terms of the efficacious consequences of these observances.

We can understand religion (by which I mean the central organizing principle of agrarian-ecclesiastical civilizations) as an existential risk mitigation strategy for pre-technological peoples, who have no method to address personal mortality or the cyclical rise and fall of civilizations (i.e., civilizational mortality) other than the propitiation of gods; once the transition is made from agrarian-ecclesiastical civilization to industrial-technological civilization, the methods of procedural rationality that are the organizing principle of the latter can be brought to bear on existential questions, and it finally becomes possible for existential threats to be assessed and addressed on the level of naturalistic human action. It would not have been possible to conceptualize existential risk in terms of naturalistic human action prior to the technological expansion of effective human action.

Teleology and Deontology in Global Industrial-Technological Civilization

Civilization is an historical reality that exhibits change and development over time. The particular change in civilization that we see at the present time is a transition from regional civilizations, reflecting the coevolution of human beings and domesticates (both plant and animal) ecologically suited to a particular geographical region, to a global industrial-technological civilization that is largely indifferent to local and regional ecological and climatological conditions, because a global trade network provides goods and services from any region to any other region, which means that the maintenance of civilization is no longer dependent upon local or regional constraints.

This development of global industrial-technological civilization is likely to dominate civilization until civilization either fails (i.e., civilization experiences extinction, permanent stagnation, flawed realization, or subsequent ruination) or expands beyond Earth and a self-sustaining center of civilization emerges in space or on another planetary body. In order for the latter to occur, human travel in space must move beyond exploratory forays and become commonplace, that is to say, we would have to see a horizon of space travel. I have called the horizon of human space travel extraterrestrialization. Until that time, civilization remains bound by the finite surface of Earth, and this means that our civilization is growing intensively rather than extensively. The intensive growth of regional civilizations exhaustively covering the surface of Earth means the closer integration of these civilizations (sometimes called globalization), and it is this process that is pushing regional civilizations (e.g., Chinese civilization, Indian civilization, European civilization, etc.) toward integration into a single global industrial-technological civilization.

The spatial constraint of the Earth’s surface together with the expansion and consolidation of settled industrial-technological civilization forces these civilizations into integration, even if only at the margins where their borders meet. Is this de facto constraint upon planetary civilization a mere contingency pushing civilization in a particular direction (which in evolutionary terms could be called civilizational directional selection), or may be think of these constraints in non-contingent terms as a “destiny” of planetary civilization? We find both conceptions represented in contemporary thought.

To think of civilization in terms of destiny is to think in teleological terms. If civilization has a destiny apart from the purposes of individuals and societies, that destiny is the telos of that civilization. But we would not likely refer to an historical accident that selects civilization as “destiny,” even if it shapes our civilization decisively. If we reject the idea of a contingent destiny forced upon us by de facto constraints upon growth and development, then we are implicitly thinking of civilization in terms of practices pursued for their own ends, which is an deontological conception of civilization.

The contemporary idea of a transition to a sustainable civilization — the transition from an industrial infrastructure powered by fossil fuels to an industrial infrastructure based on sustainable and renewable sources of fuel — is clearly a deontological conception of the development of civilization, i.e., that such a transition needs to take place for its own sake, but this deontological ideal of a civilization that lives within its means also implies for many who hold this idea a vision of future civilization that has been revamped to avoid the morally catastrophic mistakes of the past, and in this sense the conception is clearly teleological.

The Historico-Temporal Structure of Human Life

One of the most distinctive features of human consciousness is its time consciousness that extends into an explicit understanding of the future and its relationship to present action, and which developed and iterated becomes historical consciousness, in which the individual and the social group understands himself or itself to stand in relation to a past that preceded the present, and a future that will follow from the present. This historico-temporal structure of human life, both individual and communal, means that human beings plan ahead and make provision for the future in a much more systematic way than any other terrestrial species. This consideration alone suggests that the primary ethical category for understanding human action must be teleological. But this presents us with certain problems.

Civilization itself, and the great processes of civilization such as the Neolithic Agricultural Revolution, urbanization, and industrialization, were unplanned developments that just happened. No one planned to build a civilization, and no one planned for regional civilizations to run into planetary constraints and thus to begin to integrate into a global civilization. So although human beings have the ability to plan and the carry out long term projects, many of the historical human realities that are among the most significant in shaping our lives both individually and collectively were not planned. In the future we may be able to plan a civilization or civilizational process and bring this plan to a successful conclusion, but nothing like this has yet been accomplished in the history of civilization. The closest we have come to this is to build planned communities or cities, and this falls far short of the construction of an entire civilization. Until we can do more, we are subject to a limited teleological civilizational ethos at most.

Teleological and Deontological Sources of Civilization

While agrarian-ecclesiastical civilization tends to organize around an eschtological destiny, and is therefore profoundly teleological in outlook, and industrial-technological civilization tends to organize around procedural rationality, and is therefore profoundly deontological in outlook, we can think of a prehistoric past that is the source of both of these paradigms of civilization as either essentially teleological or deontological.

The basic historico-temporal properties of human life noted above, iterated, extended, and eventually made systematic culminate in an organized and communal way of life for a social species, and this telos of human activity is civilization. Civilization on this view is inherent in human nature. This can be expressed in non-naturalistic, eschatological terms, and this probably the form in which this conception is most familiar to us, but it can also be expressed in scientific terms. Here is Carl Sagan’s expression of this idea:

The cerebral cortex, where matter is transformed into consciousness, is the point of embarkation for all our cosmic voyages. Comprising more than two-thirds of the brain mass, it is the realm of both intuition and critical analysis. It is here that we have ideas and inspirations, here that we read and write, here that we do mathematics and compose music. The cortex regulates our conscious lives. It is the distinction of our species, the seat of our humanity. Civilization is a product of the cerebral cortex.

Carl Sagan, Cosmos, Chapter XI, “The Persistence of Memory”

In my post 2014 IBHA Conference Day 2 I mentioned the presentation of William Katerberg, in which he characterized ideas of inevitability and impossibility as forms of teleology in scientific historiography. While Sagan may not be asserting the inevitability of civilization emerging from the cerebral cortex, all of these conceptions belong under the overarching umbrella of teleology, whether weakly teleological or strongly teleological.

When we consider the highest expressions of the human mind in intellectual and aesthetic production, it is not at all clear if these monuments of human thought are undertaken for their intrinsic value as ends in themselves, or if they have been pursued with an eye to some end beyond the construction of the monument. Consider the pyramids: are these monuments to glorify the Pharaoh, and thus by extension to glorify Egyptian civilization as an end in itself, or are these monuments to secure the eternal reign of the Pharaoh in the afterlife? Many of the mysterious monuments that remain from past civilizations — Stonehenge, Carnac, Göbekli Tepe, the Moai of Easter Island, and the Sphinx, inter alia — have this ambiguous character.

We can imagine a civilization of the prehistorical past essentially called into being by the great effort to create one of these monoliths. The site of Göbekli Tepe is one of the more recent and interesting discoveries from the Neolithic, and some archaeologists that suggested that the site points to civilization coming into being for the purpose of constructing and maintaining this ritual site (something I mentioned in The Birth of Agriculture from the Spirit of Religion).

Teleology, Deontology, and a Philosophy of History

Teleology has been subject to much abuse in the history of human thought, as I have noted on many occasions. There is a strong desire to believe in meaning and purpose that transcends the individual, if not the entire species. The essentially incoherent desire for an meaning or purpose coming from outside the world entire, entering into the world from outside and giving a purpose to mundane actions that these actions cannot derive from any source within the world, is an imperfectly expressed theme of almost all religious thought. Logically, this is the desire for a constructive foundation for meaning and purpose; finding meaning or purpose for the world from within the world is an inherently non-constructive conception that leaves a vaguely dissatisfied feeling rarely brought to logical clarification.

The first great work in western philosophy of history, Saint Augustine’s City of God, is a thoroughly teleological conception of history culminating in the -. Perhaps the next most influential philosophy of history after Augustine was that of Hegel, and, again, Hegel’s philosophy of history is pervasively teleological in spirit. A particular philosophical effort is required to conceive of human history (and human civilization) in non-Augustinian, non-Hegelian terms.

Does there even exist, in the Western philosophical tradition, a deontological philosophy of civilization? In light of the discussion above, I have to examine my own efforts in the philosophy of history, as I realize now that some of my formulations could be interpreted as implying that civilization is the telos of human history. Does human history culminate in human civilization? Is civilization the destiny of humanity? If so, this should be made explicit. If not, a more careful formulation of the relationship of civilization to human history is in order.

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Sunday


eyeball

What is astrobiology?

I suppose that “astrobiology” could be called one of those “ten dollar” words, but despite being a long word of six syllables and a dozen letters, it can be defined quite simply.

Astrobiology has been called, “The study of life in space” (Mix, Life in Space: Astrobiology for Everyone, 2009) and that, “Astrobiology… removes the distinction between life on our planet and life elsewhere.” (Plaxco and Gross, Astrobiology: A Brief Introduction, 2006). Taking these sententious formulations of astrobiology as the study of life in space, which removes the distinction between life on our planet and life elsewhere, together gives us a new perspective with which to view life on Earth (and beyond).

There are, of course, longer and more detailed definitions of astrobiology. There are two in particular that I have cited in previous posts:

“The study of the living universe. This field provides a scientific foundation for a multidisciplinary study of (1) the origin and distribution of life in the universe, (2) an understanding of the role of gravity in living systems, and (3) the study of the Earth’s atmospheres and ecosystems.”

from the NASA strategic plan of 1996, quoted in Steven J. Dick and James E. Strick, The Living Universe: NASA and the Development of Astrobiology, 2005

…and…

“Astrobiology is the study of the origin, evolution, distribution, and future of life in the universe. This multidisciplinary field encompasses the search for habitable environments in our Solar System and habitable planets outside our Solar System, the search for evidence of prebiotic chemistry and life on Mars and other bodies in our Solar System, laboratory and field research into the origins and early evolution of life on Earth, and studies of the potential for life to adapt to challenges on Earth and in space.”

from the NASA astrobiology website

I cited these two definitions of astrobiology from NASA in Eo-, Eso-, Exo-, Astro- and other posts in which I used parallel formulations to define astrocivilization.

Learning to take the astrobiological point of view

I‘ve posted a couple remarks about astrobiology on Twitter that I would like to repeat here to set the tone for what follows. More than two years ago I posted this on Twitter:

Astrobiology is island biogeography writ large.

This is one of the few “tweets” I’ve written that was “re-tweeted” multiple times (I’m not very popular on Twitter.) After I wrote this I began a more extensive blog post on this theme, but didn’t finish it; the topic rapidly became too large and started to look like a book rather than a post. Then last month I posted this on Twitter:

In the same way that Darwin provided a new perspective on life, astrobiology provides a novel perspective that allows us to see life anew.

Recently I’ve also been referring to astrobiology with increasing frequency in my blog posts, and I referenced astrobiology in my 2012 presentation at the 100YSS symposium in Houston and just last month in my presentation at the Icarus Interstellar Starship Congress in Dallas.

It will be apparent to the reader, then, then the idea of astrobiology has been slowly growing on me for the past few years, and the more I think about it, the more I come to realize the fundamentally new perspective that astrobiology offers on life and its evolution. Moreover, astrobiology also is suggestive for the future of life, and what we will discover about life the more we explore the cosmos.

Astrobiology: the Fourth Revolution in the Life Sciences

The more I think about astrobiology, the more I realize that, like earlier revolutions in the life sciences, the astrobiological point of view gives a novel perspective on familiar facts, and in so doing it potentially orients science in a new direction. For this reason I now see astrobiology as the fourth of four revolutions that instantiated the life sciences in their present form and continue to shape the way that we think about biology and the living world.

Here is my list of the four major revolutions in biological thought that have shaped the life sciences:

● Natural selection Independently discovered by Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace, natural selection gave sharpness of focus to many vague evolutionary ideas that were being circulated in the nineteenth century. With natural selection, biology had a theory by which to work, that could unify biological thought in a way that had not previously been possible. Of the Darwinian revolution Harald Brüssow wrote, “How can biologists cope conceptually and technically with this enormous species number? A deep sigh of relief came for biologists already in 1859 with the publication of Charles Darwin’s book ‘On the Origin of Species’. Suddenly, biologists had a unifying theory for their branch of science. One could even argue that the holy grail of a great unifying theory was achieved by Darwin and Wallace at a time when Maxwell was unifying physics, the older sister of biology, at the level of the electromagnetic field theory.” (“The not so universal tree of life or the place of viruses in the living world” Phil. Trans. R. Soc. B, 2009, 364, 2263–2274)

● Genetics After Darwin and Wallace came Gregor Mengel, who solved fundamental problems in the theory of inheritance and so greatly strengthened the Darwinian theory of descent with modification. As Darwin had provided the mechanism for the overall structure of life, Mendel provided the mechanism that made natural selection possible. Mendel’s work, contemporaneous with Darwin, was forgotten and not rediscovered until the early twentieth century. It was not until the middle of the twentieth century that Crick and Watson were able to delineate the structure of DNA, which made it possible to describe Mendelian genetics on a molecular level, thus making possible molecular biology.

● Evo-devo Evo-devo, which is a contraction of evolutionary developmental biology, once again went back to the roots of biology (as Darwin had done by formulating a fundamental theory, and as Mendel had done by his careful study of inheritance in pea plants), and returned the study of embryology to the center of attention of evolutionary biology. Studying the embryology of organisms with the tools of molecular biology gave (and continues to give) new insights into the fine structure of life’s evolution. Before evo-devo, few if any suspected that the homology that Darwin and others notes on a macro-biological scale (the structural similarity of the hand of a man, the wing of a bat, and the flipper of a dolphin) would be reducible to homology on a genetic level, but evo-devo has demonstrated this in remarkable ways, and in so doing has further underlined the unity of all terrestrial life.

● Astrobiology Astrobiology now lifts life out of its exclusively terrestrial context and studies life in its cosmological context. We have known for some time that climate is a major driver of evolution, and that climatology is in turn largely driven by the vicissitudes of the Earth as the Earth orbits the sun, exchanges material with other bodies in our solar system, and the solar system entire bobs up and down in the plane of the Milky Way galaxy. Of understanding of life gains immensely by being placed in the cosmological context, which forces us both to think big, in terms of the place of life in the universe, as well as to think small, in terms of the details of origins of life on Earth and its potential relation to life elsewhere in the universe.

This is obviously a list of revolutions in biological thought compiled by an outsider, i.e., by someone who is not a biologist. Others might well compile different lists. For example, I can easily imagine someone putting the Woesean revolution on a short list of revolutions in biological thought. Woese was largely responsible for replacing the tripartite division of animals, plants, and fungi with the tripartite division of the biological domains of Bacteria, Archaea and Eukarya. (There remains the question of where viruses fit in to this scheme, as discussed in the Brüssow paper cited above.)

tree-of-life 2

Since I have included molecular phylogeny among the developments of evo-devo (in the graphic at the bottom of this post), I have implicitly place Woese’s work within the evo-devo revolution, since it was the method of molecular phylogeny that made it possible to demonstrate that plants, animals and fungi are all closely related biologically, while the truly fundamental division in terrestrial life is between the eukarya (which includes plants, animals, and fungi, which are all multicellular organisms), bacteria, and archaea. If any biologists happen to read this, I hope you will be a bit indulgent toward my efforts, though I certainly encourage you to leave a comment if I have made any particularly egregious errors.

Toward a Radical Biology

Darwin mentioned the origins of life only briefly and in passing. There is the famous reference to, “some warm little pond with all sorts of ammonia and phosphoric salts, — light, heat, electricity &c. present” in his letter to Joseph Hooker, and there is the famous passage at the end of his Origin of Species which I discussed in Darwin’s Cosmology:

“Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows. There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.”

Darwin, of course, had nothing to go on at this point. Trying to understand or explain the origins of life without molecular biology would be like trying to explain the nature of water without the atomic and molecular theory of matter: the conceptual infrastructure to circumscribe the most basic elements of life did not yet exist. (The example of trying to define water without the atomic theory of matter is employed by Robert M. Hazen in his lectures on the Origins of Life.)

Just as Darwin pressed biology beyond the collecting and comparison of beetles in the backyard, and opened up deep time to biology (and, vice versa, biology to deep time), so astrobiology presses forward with the project of evolutionary biology, pursuing the natural origins of life to its chemical antecedents. Astrobiology is a radical biology in the same way that Darwin was radical biology in his time: both go to the root to the matter to the extent possible given the theoretical, scientific, and technological parameters of thought. It is in the radical sense that astrobiology is integral with origins of life research; it is in this sense in which the two are one.

The humble origins of radical ideas

The radical biology of Darwin did not start out as such. In his early life, Darwin considered becoming a country parson, and when Darwin left on his voyage on the Beagle as Captain Fitzroy’s gentleman companion, he held mostly conventional views. It is easy to imagine an alternative history in which Darwin retained his conventional views, went on to become a country parson, and gave Sunday sermons that were mostly moral homilies punctuated by the occasional quote from scripture the illustrate the moral lesson with a story from the tradition he nominally represented. Such a Darwin from an alternative history would have continued to collect beetles during the week and would have maintained his interest in natural history.

Just as Darwin came out of the context of English natural history (which, before Darwin, gave us those classic works of teleology, Paley’s Natural Theology and Chambers’ Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation — a work that the young Darwin greatly admired), so too astrobiology comes out of the context of a later development of natural history — the scientific search for the origins of life and for extraterrestrial life. While the search for extraterrestrial life is “big science” of an order of magnitude only possible by an institution like NASA, in this respect it stands in the humble tradition of natural history, since we must send robots of Mars and the other planets until we can go there ourselves with a shovel and rock hammer. From such humble beginnings sometimes emerge radical consequences.

I think we are already beginning to see the potentially radical character of astrobiology, and that this development in biology promises a paradigm shift almost of the scope and magnitude of natural selection. Indeed, both natural selection and astrobiology can be understood as further (and radical) contextualizations of the theme of man’s place in nature. When Darwin wrote, he contextualized human history in the most comprehensive conception of nature then possible; today astrobiology must contextualize not only human history but also the totality of life on Earth in a much more comprehensive cosmological context.

As our knowledge of the world (which was once very small, and very parochial) steadily expands, we are eventually forced to extend and refine our concepts in order to adequately account for the world that we now know. Natural selection and astrobiology are steps in the extension and refinement of our conception of life, and of the place of life in the world. Life simpliciter is, after all, a “folk” concept. Indeed, “life” is folk biology and “world” is folk cosmology. Astrobiology brings together these folk concepts and attempts to bring scientific rigor to them.

The biology of the future

Astrobiology is laying the foundations for the biology of the future. Here and now on earth, without having surveyed life on other worlds, astrobiologists are attempting for formulate concepts adequate to understanding life at the largest and the smallest scales. Once we take these conceptions along with us when we eventually explore alien worlds — including alien worlds close to home, such as Mars and the ocean beneath the ice of Europa — it is to be expected that further revolutions in the life sciences will come about as a result of attempting to understand what we eventually find in the light of the concepts we have preemptively developed in order to understand biology beyond the surface of the Earth.

Future revolutions in biology will likely have the same radical character as natural selection, genetics, evo-devo, and astrobiology. Future naturalists will do what naturalists do best: they will spend their time in the field finding new specimens and describing them for science, and in the process of the slow and incremental accumulation of scientific knowledge new ideas will suggest themselves. Perhaps someone laid low by some alien fever, like Wallace tossing and turning as he suffered from a fever in the Indonesian archipelago, will, in a moment of insight, rise from their sick bed long enough to dash off a revolutionary paper, sending it off to another naturalist, now settled and meditating over his own experiences of new and unfamiliar forms of life.

The naturalists of alien forms of life will not necessarily have the same point of view as that of astrobiologists — and that is all to the good. Science thrives when it is enriched by new perspectives. At present, the revolutionary new perspective is astrobiology, but that will not likely remain true indefinitely.

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Monday


Addendum on a Future Astropolitics:

If this is what the large scale distribution of matter in the cosmos looks like, then this is what the future distribution of civilization in the universe will look like.  (Illustration: Center for Cosmological Physics, Chicago)

If this is what the large scale distribution of matter in the cosmos looks like, then this is what the future distribution of civilization in the universe will look like. (Illustration: Center for Cosmological Physics, Chicago)

Civilization Shaped by Structures of the Universe


In my previous post on astropolitics, The Fundamental Theorem of Astropolitics, I gave a generalization of my earlier definition of geopolitics (which was, “geography constrains human agency”) as the following:

Human agency is constrained by the structure of space.

Upon reflection I have realized that, while this definition is good as far as it goes, it doesn’t go far enough. The primary defect of this formulation is that it is formulated exclusively in terms of constraints upon human agency, which is to say, it focuses on the ways in which human agency is limited or even negated.

In formulating either geopolitics or astropolitics in terms of the limitations on human agency, the ways in which geography or the structure of space facilitates human agency gets lost, and this function of facilitation is no less significant than the function of limitation that follows from the lay of the land or the structure of space.

Another weakness in formulating geopolitics or astropolitics in terms of constraint and limitation is that it implies that, were it only not for the limitations placed upon human agency by outside forces, that this agency would be boundless and infinite. In other words, focusing on limitation and constraint suggests, in a very subtle way, what I have called the political conception of history, i.e., history understood primarily in terms of human agency. While this is an empowering way of viewing history, it cannot be considered any more or less accurate than other other conceptions of history I have outlined — the cataclysmic, eschatological, and naturalistic conceptions (for a review of these conceptions cf. The Naturalistic Conception of History) — and it is likely to be misleading.

When I spoke at the 2012 100YSS event one of the central ideas of my talk was the ways in which the structure of spacetime will govern the expansion of civilization on an interstellar scale, and even beyond this the ways in which human beings (or any other finite being exploring the cosmos) can use the apparent limitations imposed upon us by relativity, the finite velocity of light, and the structure of space itself to facilitate the growth of civilization. (I called my talk, “The Large Scale Structure of Spacefaring Civilization.”)

We have come to see the velocity of light as a barrier to human/organic exploration of the cosmos, but this is a profound misconception. In response to this misconception, those contemplating the possibility of interstellar civilization either are looking for ways to avoid relativistic effects, such as the use of the Alcubierre drive (if only it can be made to work), and those who think that interstellar travel is simply impossible or can only be accomplished at very slow rates of expansion, such as the rates of speed at which the Voyager spacecraft are slowly making their way outside our local solar system (i.e., by way of generational ships and long term human preservation or reconstitution).

Although the Voyager I spacecraft is traveling in excess of 38,000 MPH, even at this speed it is a very slow trip to another star.

Although the Voyager I spacecraft is traveling in excess of 38,000 MPH, even at this speed it is a very slow trip to another star.

What I want to suggest is that relativity is our friend. The finite velocity of light and the phenomenon of time dilation can and will be used by human beings to facilitate interstellar travel. Anyone who has studied these matters carefully will know what I am talking about here, but the popular misconceptions are so prevalent that one must pause to mention them. It is often stated that if we sent out an interstellar mission traveling at a rate that involved relativistic effects, that we could only hope for our distant descendents to arrive; that no one would live to see another solar system. In fact, time would continue to pass on Earth, but the closer a starship can approximate the speed of light, even while never reaching that limiting velocity, the slower time passes on board, so that even very long interstellar voyages can be accomplished within life spans typical by contemporary standards.

Carl Sagan discussed this at some length in his book and television series Cosmos, in which he talked about a starship that could accelerate at one gravity. We can think of the 1G starship as the breakthrough technology that will open up our galaxy to exploration and settlement. Already we can accelerate a spaceship at well more than 1G, although we cannot maintain this acceleration for extended periods of time, so I regard attaining this acceleration for extended periods of time to be a merely technical problem, and not an insuperable “physics” problem. (Some people will disagree with me on this point.) Sagan pointed out that with the humble technology of a 1G starship we could circumnavigate the known universe in a typical human life span. By the time we finished this journey, however, billions of years would have passed.

Observable_Universe_with_Measurements

It is easy to lose sight of this possibility when discussing space flight, and our limited capabilities today, but looking at the ability of industrial-technological civilization to continue delivering exponential technological development, we should not consider this technology to be long out of our reach. That is why I call it a “humble” technology. It doesn’t require breaking the known laws of physics, and it doesn’t require an engineering breakthrough on the level of the Alcubierre drive (though I should mention that I still hold out hope for the development of the Alcubierre drive).

Once we allow ourselves to think in these terms, and to imagine as a real possibility human exploration of the cosmos, even limited to contemporary life spans (which are likely to be lengthened considerably in the coming century), what one comes to realize is not the unattainability of the velocity of light, but really how slow the speed of light is in relation to the size of the cosmos. Light is almost pokey in its progress, since it would take light about 93 billion years to traverse the known universe. The age of the universe seems incomprehensibly ancient, but really, when you think about it in cosmological terms, 13.7 billion years isn’t all that much. We’re only really getting started here on this universe bit. And the size the universe? Again, it seems incomprehensible vast, but if we adjust our perspective, it is well within the limits of human comprehension if we will only take the time and the trouble to systematically expand and extend out understanding.

calvin-and-hobbes-look-at-the-stars small

We can spend our time contemplating the littleness of man in the cosmos, or we can work to attain a perspective commensurate with the universe. It is true that we are indeed very small at present, and it has been the tradition of human thought to meditate upon our insignificance, our smallness before the universe, our manifold weaknesses, our miserably short existence, and the sorrows of the human condition — in short, it has been the tradition to meditate on what Hume called the “monkish virtues.” While we do not think of modern thought in this way, once we pause to put matters in context, we see the degree to which this tradition still retains its power over our minds.

Here is how Hume formulated the “monkish virtues”:

Celibacy, fasting, penance, mortification, self-denial, humility, silence, solitude, and the whole train of monkish virtues; for what reason are they everywhere rejected by men of sense, but because they serve to no manner of purpose; neither advance a man’s fortune in the world, nor render him a more valuable member of society; neither qualify him for the entertainment of company, nor increase his power of self-enjoyment? We observe, on the contrary, that they cross all these desirable ends; stupify the understanding and harden the heart, obscure the fancy and sour the temper.

David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, 1777, Section IX, Conclusion, Part I

To Hume’s litany of the reasons to reject the monkish virtues we might also add that this is no way to go about building a civilization. This is to think in terms of constraints. But we must also think in terms of possibilities, and if we are ever to construct the spacefaring civilization that we can now clearly conceptualize, we will have to think more in terms of possibilities and less in terms of limitations. As central to the creation of a spacefaring civilization as the technological developments is the conceptual revolution that needs to be sustained, and as ambitious and as megalomaniac as this sounds, we must formulate and inculcate a human perspective that takes the human role in the cosmos for granted. We must learn to think on a cosmological scale.

David Hume, philosopher of the Scottish Enlightenment and critic of monkish virtues.

David Hume, philosopher of the Scottish Enlightenment and critic of monkish virtues.

For those who wonder at the hubris of what I am saying, the punishment of our pride will come about in due course, for no grand enterprise (and there is no grander enterprise than the expansion of civilization) is without reversals, but we cannot begin this enterprise by thinking only in terms of what we cannot do. We would never get off the ground — literally, we would never pass beyond planet-bound civilization to transplanetary civilization — if we thought only in terms of the meagerness of our abilities.

While some limitations are unambiguously limiting, others can be seen as a constraint or an opportunity depending upon one’s perspective. This is true of the structure of the universe and time dilation, which is built into relativistic physics. Future civilization will not try to defy this structure of spacetime (by trying to do something impossible according to physics), but will exploit this structure of spacetime in order to expand civilization in unexpected and unprecedented ways.

time dialation

Astrophysics will shape interstellar civilization. The development of civilization will follow the availability of matter and energy; both matter and energy are found in and around the vicinity of stars, stars are collected in galaxies, and galaxies are found in clusters. Civilization will follow this same structure, from stars to galaxies to clusters, and civilization will do so because this is where the matter and energy at to be found.

Matter shapes the structure of spacetime; in seeking the resources of matter and energy, civilization will find itself in those regions of the universe shaped by the presence of matter. Matter, moreover, is convertible with energy, and vice versa. Civilization seeks matter in part in order to convert it into energy in order to power the industries of industrial-technological civilization. At some future time civilization may also seek energy in order to convert it into matter.

Mass-Energy_Equivalence_Formula_2_by_Merlin2525

Civilization as we have known it has sought to expand itself in space, but time dilation will allow civilization also to expand in time. Given the breakthrough technology of a 1G starship, civilization will not only move outward in space, but also later in time. While time on Earth may be considered the baseline, a fleet of starships with enough capacity to carry a sufficient portion of terrestrial civilization to establish this civilization at a new center, will carry that civilization to a later time commensurate with the distance traveled outward. Because of time dilation, relatively little time will have passed on the voyage, even while a great deal of time will have passed on Earth.

In other words, while separated by years and lightyears, it will still be essentially the same civilization. From an omnipresent perspective — what might be called the “view from nowhere” (to borrow a phrase from Thomas Nagel) — we can see that these are temporally separated instances of one an the same civilization are. I call this a temporally distributed civilization. (This was one of the central points of my 2012 100YSS talk.) Given this structure of a temporally distributed civilization, there is quite literally no going home again. It would always be possible to migrate outward, and into later times (though essentially into the same civilization displaced later in time), but back would mean going into far future civilization that no longer resembled the civilization one had left behind.

In a temporally distributed civilization, one and the same civilization is distributed in time as well as in space.

In a temporally distributed civilization, one and the same civilization is distributed in time as well as in space.

Civilization conceived and executed on this cosmological scale, integral with the largest astrophysical processes, would leave observable traces. In Transcendent Man, the film about Ray Kurzweil, Kurzweil talks about looking up into the night sky and seeking signs of an alien technological singularity. Others have thought to search the skies for mega-engineering projects, looking for the astronomical markers of Dyson spheres or the use of a black hole as a source of energy.

Nothing definitive has yet been seen in the night sky. There does not appear to have been any civilization of cosmological scale that has preceded us — though there may be one out there, only now coming to maturity and not yet visible to us. Or maybe there is nothing out there. For many, the lack of evidence of a civilization of cosmological scale is proof (not definitive, deductive proof, but incremental, inductive proof, not leading to certainty, but to likelihood and probability) that there is no such civilization, nor can there be such a civilization.

Dyson sphere

Some dreamers who reject the possibility of interstellar travel but want to know something of the other inhabitants who might be out there in the Milky Way and beyond resign themselves to the quietism of SETI, sitting in a room monitoring instruments, hoping to catch a glimpse of alien intelligence from signals among the stars. This model of interstellar exchange is presented as practicable, and therefore something that a person might reasonably believe in, even if it departs from the Buck Rogers model of flying around and visiting other planets, all the while with a trusty sidearm on one’s hip.

I know that there are a great many people who maintain that there will never be any interstellar civilization, therefore no interaction between multiple interstellar civilizations, therefore no interstellar exchanges of any significance — whether for trade or war or culture or otherwise — because of the distances involved and the energy levels that would be required. I do not think that this is an insuperable problem, because in large measure the problem is our own perspective and the human tendency to sabotage our own efforts. Such habits of thought and action are valuable for a planet-bound civilization, but would be crippling for a transplanetary civilization.

starship

I, on the other hand, view the large scale structure of interstellar civilization as an inevitable (or nearly inevitable) outcome of the continued expansion of industrial-technological civilization, in accordance with the Industrial-Technological Thesis that defines technological progress as intrinsic to this form of civilization. The only event that would derail the eventual realization of interstellar civilization is if civilization itself were to be derailed — hence my concern with existential risk.

A theoretical astropolitics would furnish the conceptual infrastructure for any future interstellar trade, interstellar war, or even interstellar “cultural exchanges” (as they were delicately called during the Cold War). And, as should be apparent from the foregoing, it seems clear that, as long as our industrial-technological civilization continues in its present trajectory of development, all of this will come to pass in the fullness of time.

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Tuesday


The Human Future after Geopolitics:

amazing_stories

The Large Scale Structure of Political Societies


Some time ago in The Fundamental Theorem of Geopolitical Thought I formulated just such a theorem as follows: Human agency is constrained by geography. While geopolitics must remain central to understanding contemporaneous political thought, this will not always be so. The time will come when we will, of necessity, pass beyond geopolitics.

In many posts in which I have discussed the extraterrestrialization of terrestrial civilization (cf. e.g., Addendum on Extraterrestrialization and The Farther Reaches of Civilization) and the advent of Copernican civilization (cf. e.g., Civilization and the Technium and Earth Science, Planetary Science, Space Science) I have clearly implied that, as civilization expands off the surface of the earth, the political life of man will be forced to change in order to keep pace with these events, much as human societies have been forced to change rapidly as a result of the industrial revolution and its consequences. It does not matter how desperately those heavily-invested in the present global order will resist this change: the change will come if industrial-technological civilization continues its trajectory and does not succumb to existential risks.

If the political structure of extraterrestrialized civilization will be described by a future science of astropolitics, the fundamental theorem of astropolitics can be formulated as concisely as my fundamental theorem of geopolitics, and it would be formulated thus:

Human agency is constrained by the structure of space.

This is a straightforward generalization of my fundamental theorem of geopolitics, and as that theorem can be summarized as geography matters, the fundamental theorem of astropolitics can be similarly summarized as space matters.

The generalization of the scope of human agency from geography to the structure of space itself suggests that we also ought to generalize beyond the human, since by the time earth-originating civilization is an extraterrestrial civilization human beings will have become transhuman or post-human, and in the fullness of time homo sapiens will be followed by successor species. Thus…

Human and human-successor agency is constrained by the structure of space.

However, since this formulation of the fundamental theorem of astropolitics would hold for any peer civilization, there is no reason to limit the formulation to human beings, human successors, or earth-originating life. Thus…

Any conscious agency is constrained by the structure of space.

It is even superfluous to mention the qualification of “conscious” agency, since any naturalistic agency whatsoever is and will be constrained by the structure of space (supernatural agencies as comprehended in eschatological conceptions of history would presumably not be constrained by space). However, since our concern at present is to understand the large scale structure of political societies, we are concerned with those agents that represent peer industrial-technological civilizations that might establish (or have already established) a (peer) civilization beyond the surface of their homeworld.

Despite the many different formulations that might be given to the fundamental theorem of astropolitics, depending on the degree of generalization to be embodied in the formulation, all of these generalizations are intuitively continuous with the fundamental theorem of geopolitics, as well they ought to be. The geographical and topographical features that are central to geopolitical thought are the local structures of space corresponding to the human epistemic and perceptual order of magnitude. When the growth of civilization forces the parallel expansion of human epistemic and perceptual orders of magnitude, the structure of space itself will concern us more than the local mountain ranges, rivers, and deserts that now shape our terrestrial strategic thought.

The structural similarity between the fundamental theorem of geopolitics and the fundamental theorem of astropolitics masks the profound transformation of human political life that will come about in the event that human civilization expands to the degree that astropolitical thought will better describe strategic agency than geopolitical thought. A robust, self-sustaining human presence off the surface of the earth will impact human political societies so dramatically that it will eventually mean the end of the nation-state system. Such a change in human political thought will develop over more than a century, and will probably require two or three centuries to be fully assimilated throughout human civilization.

In my Political Economy of Globalization I attempted to describe the peculiar form of dishonesty that is employed in political thought that is to be found when our political ideas do not keep up with actual political developments:

…not every political entity that has a seat at the table at the United Nations conforms to the paradigm of the nation-state; some are more state, others more nation, yet others falling under neither category. Feudal monarchies rub elbows with republics and city-states, none of them representing any genuine national aspirations of a people or peoples for self-determination.

If the United Nations had existed in the eighteenth century, the Ottoman Empire would have been a member; if the United Nations had existed in the nineteenth century the Austro-Hungarian Empire would have been a member state. These empires are long since dissolved, but we can easily imagine that had the UN been in existence at the time of their dissolution these events would have been characterized in apocalyptic terms and attended with much hand wringing.

And if the dissolution of individual nation-states causes the level of distress one sees in the international system, it should be apparent that the end of the nation-state system itself will be viewed by some as a catastrophe of unparalleled proportions. However, it will take some time for the change to be noticed, which I also noted in my Political Economy of Globalization:

In the distant future, there will be, of course, political entities that will be called states. But the modern nation-state, eponymously defined in terms of nationhood, but in fact defined in terms of territorial sovereignty, cannot survive in its present form to be among the political entities of the future. Perhaps the new political entities will be called nation-states, as a holdover from our own time, but they will not have the character of nation-states any more than the Ottoman Empire had the character of a nation-state. While the latter was an identifiable state, to be sure, it was not a nation-state.

Conventional contemporary political and social science scarcely ever questions the role of the nation-state in human affairs (as though it were a permanent feature of civilization, which it is not), but we are under no obligation to allow these conventional limitations upon political imagination constrain our own formulations. It is enough to be constrained by the structure of space; there is no need to voluntarily burden oneself with additional constraints.

But we must unquestionably begin with the nation-state as the source of our present political situation, because all that follows in the future from the present situation will follow from the familiar nation-state system and the political thought of our time that privileges the nation-state system. The human, all-too-human scale of the nation-state system is the political parallel of the human, all-too-human scale of the geographical and topographical obstacles that are the present boundaries to human agency.

There is story I can’t resist repeating here about practical geopolitics, which is what military operations in the age of the nation-state represent. It is, in fact, a story within a story, as related by Hermann von Kuhl of Alfred von Schlieffen:

“He lived exclusively for his work and his great tasks. I remember how we once travelled through the night from Berlin to Insterburg, where the great staff ride was to begin. General Schheffen travelled with his aide-de-camp. In the morning the train left Königsberg and entered the Pregel valley, which was basking prettily in the rays of the rising sun. Up to then not a word had been spoken on the journey. Daringly the A.D.C. tried to open a conversation and pointed to the pleasant scene. ‘An insignificant obstacle,’ said the Graf — and conversational demands until Insterburg were therewith met.”

THE SCHLIEFFEN PLAN: Critique of a Myth, GERHARD RITTER, Foreword by B. H. LIDDELL HART, OSWALD WOLFF (PUBLISHERS) LIMITED, London, W.i, 1958, p. 99

Schlieffen’s single-minded focus on geographical features as exclusively representing opportunities or obstacles for campaigning — features that for others might represent aesthetics objects, or any kind of object significant in human experience — demonstrates geopolitical thought as at once practical and abstract. It is possible for geopolitics to be practical and abstract at the same time because the abstractions it considers are features like “insignficant obstacle,” while it takes no account of features such as “pleasant scene.” Astropolitics will be practical and abstract in the same way, although its objects will not be objects of ordinary human experience such as “insignificant obstacle” or “pleasant scene.”

The magnification of the scale of human concerns in astropolitics will not merely involve a larger canvas for human ambition, but will also introduce complexities not represented at the geopolitical scale. On the level of ordinary human experience time and space can be treated in isolation from each other, so that we have history and geography as abstract conceptions; at the higher energy levels, greater distances, higher speeds, and greater gravitational influences of a much-expanded spacefaring civilization, space and time will of necessity be treated together as space-time.

After I first formulated my fundamental theorem on geopolitical thought I followed it with two additional principles, the second law of geopolitics

The scope of human agency defines a center, beyond which lies a periphery in which human agency is marginal.

…and the third law of geopolitics

Human agency is essentially a temporal agency.

As I had summarized the fundamental theorem of geopolitical thought as geography matters, I summarized the third law of geopolitical thought as history matters. As we have seen above, the large scale structure of the universe must be understood in terms of space-time, meaning that we cannot isolate cosmological geography from cosmological history. History and geography on a cosmological scale are even more intimately bound up in each other than they are on the human, all-too-human scale of terrestrial politics.

This suggests a further generalization of the fundamental theorem of astropolitics:

Human agency (or any conscious agency) is constrained by space-time.

History and geography have always been intimately tied together, and his, of course, is one of the great lessons of geopolitics, that geography shapes history. It is also true, has been true, that history shapes geography, but the forces by which the history of life on earth have shaped geography have occurred on a timescale that is not apparent to human perception.

In a future political science of astropolitics, we will have a history that reflects the large scale structure of the cosmos, and a large scale structure of the cosmos that reflects the history of the universe. While human agency (or other conscious agents) has not yet acted on a scale to have shaped the initial 13.7 billion years of cosmic history, if our civilization or its successor institutions should endure, its history could well shape the large scale structure of space-time.

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Monday


space landscape

What happens when invariant civilizational properties are subjected to variation due to adaptation?

If the extraterrestrialization of human civilization is consistent with all previous human civilization, then human extraterrestrial civilization will exhibit the civilizational invariants of warfare, social hierarchy, and geographically settled communities (which I recently identified as civilizational invariants in Invariant Properties of Civilization). That is to say, there will be some form of warfare, some form of social hierarchy, and some form of geographically settled communities.

Certainly it would be remarkable if any of these norms of civilization were seriously called into question; it would be, by definition, an unprecedented circumstance, and unprecedented circumstances are historically unique upon their occurrence (even if they should become common later, after their first appearance in history). As extraordinary historical claims demand extraordinary evidence, so unprecedented historical claims demand unprecedented evidence. In order to show that civilization has assumed an unprecedented form, our evidence would need to pass a high bar.

If the necessary transition and adaptation of earth-originating human institutions to a future extraterrestrial context results in an absence (or suspension) or warfare, an absence of social hierarchy, or the absence of settled communities (or any combination of these three), then the processes of extraterrestrialization could be said to precipitate a post-civilizational successor institution, and upon the realization of such an institution humanity could be said to have entered upon a fundamentally novel form of development (and a new macro-historical period). This would be remarkable, but it is within the realm of possibility.

I have employed the example above of an extraterrestrial human civilization, but similar considerations hold for any strategic trend that might come to dominate the shape of the human future over the coming centuries. What are these possible shapes of the human future?

In earlier posts I have outlined five possible scenarios for the future, all of which involve extrapolation of known strategic trends occurring in the present (and therefore my futurism represents a kind of uniformitarianism):

Extraterrestrialization is the expansion of human civilization beyond the surface of the earth, so that humanity ultimately becomes a majority extraterrestrial species.

Pastoralization is the growth of conurbations and the parallel continuing depopulation of the rural countryside, in which agriculture has also been urbanized.

Singularization is the now-familiar scenario of the technological singularity, in which humanity is either superseded by its superintelligent mechanical progeny or itself merges with these machines.

Neo-Agriculturalism is the return to an agrarian civilization, albeit with our technology (mostly) intact, in part as an environmentalist reaction against industrial-technological civilization.

Neo-Marxism is the familiar future of communism, which I have argued in many posts has not been historically falsified as usually believed, most recently in The Re-Proletarianization of the Workforce.

In regard to extraterrestrialization, the idiom of “space settlement” is already becoming current (in the attempt to avoid the use of the term “space colonization” because of the desire to disassociate an exciting human future from the dismal history of colonialism), but these settlements would not be located at a geographical location on the earth’s surface, which already marks a radical departure. However, the basic properties of settlement would likely be realized in any permanent human community off the surface of the earth. There is no reason at present to suppose that we will not bring our social hierarchies into space with us, and we already have nascent warfighting technologies for space under development, despite the efforts of the international community to de-militarize space.

In regard to Pastoralization, settlement is focused on cities, cities are likely to retain their entrenched social hierarchies, as well as their tendency to go to war with other cities, so this macro-historical development does not greatly challenge the existing paradigm of human civilization.

In regard to Singularization, human institutions disappear in the most radical scenario (a “hard landing”), which means the disappearance of human warfare, human social hierarchies, and human settlement. This represents a radical departure from the received paradigm of civilization, but we must ask next if the machines that supersede us will replicate our tendency to warfare, social hierarchy, and settlement. We cannot know this, and for this reason we cannot say that it is impossible. If post-humans or machines reconstruct the familiar institutions of human civilization without human beings, should this be accounted a continuation of human civilization?

In regard to Neo-Agriculturalism, here settlement remains a strong force, while I imagine those who might imagine such a future would conceive an utopian future free of warfare and social hierarchy, however unlikely it is that this dream would be attained. If an attempt were made to put such conceptions into practice it would more or less guarantee a dystopian result of horrifically magnified warfare and hierarchy.

In regard to Neo-Marxism, we have a conception of the future that is ideologically committed to the elimination of human social hierarchies, and in this sense neo-Marxism represents a strong challenge to a civilizational invariant, but we know that all attempts at constituting Marxist societies resulted in no change to social hierarchy, only the fungibility of the individuals within that hierarchy. Marxism also represents a view of the future in which, at totality, warfare would be eliminated because all reasons for war would be eliminated through just allocation of goods and services. Again, no actually existing experiment in Marxist society was free from war, so the tension between ideal and realization remains strong. Neither Marxism nor neo-Marxism calls settled society into question.

In each case of these potential macro-historical revolutions, the developments are consistent with either the retention of civilizational invariants or their abolition. In so far, then, as these macro-historical revolutions issue in specifically human civilizations (even if it is an essentially human civilization replicated by machines in our absence), the weight of history suggests that the civilizational invariants will remain largely invariant — perhaps producing a few problematic cases that represent qualifications, exceptions, or conditions that must be introduced into any exposition of civilizational invariants.

From the perspective of long-term futurism — what one might also call futurism in the context of big history — the really interesting question here would be to identify the developments of human civilization that might force a change in one or more civilization invariants, and to do so in an unambiguous way, so that what follows must be understood as a post-civilization social institution.

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Sunday


The Löwenmensch or Lion Man sculpture, about 32,000 years old, is a relic of the Aurignacian culture.

Recently (in Don’t Cry for the Papers) I wrote that, “Books will be a part of human life as long as there are human beings (or some successor species engaged in civilizational activity, or whatever cultural institution is the successor to civilization).” While this was only a single line thrown out as an aside in a discussion of newspapers and magazines, I had to pause over this to think about it and make sure that I would get my phrasing right, and in doing so I realized that there are several ideas implicit in this formulation.

Map of the Aurignacian culture, approximately 47,000 to 41,000 years ago.

Since I make an effort to always think in terms of la longue durée, I have conditioned myself to note that current forms (of civilization, or whatever else is being considered) are always likely to be supplanted by changed forms in the future, so when I said that books, like the poor, will always be with us, for the sake of completeness I had to note that human forms may be supplanted by a successor species and that civilization may be supplanted by a a successor institution. Both the idea of the post-human and the post-civilizational are interesting in their own right. I have briefly considered posthumanity and human speciation in Against Natural History, Right and Left (as well as other posts such as Addendum on the Avoidance of Moral Horror), but the idea of a successor to civilization is something that begs further consideration.

Now, in the sense, everything that I have written about futurist scenarios for the successor to contemporary industrial-technological civilization (which I have described in Three Futures, Another Future: The New Agriculturalism, and other posts) can be taken as attempts to outline what comes after civilization in so far as we understand civilization as contemporary industrial-technological civilization. This investigation of post-industrial civilization is an important aspect of an analytic and theoretical futurism, but we must go further in order to gain a yet more comprehensive perspective that places civilization within the longest possible historical context.

I have adopted the convention of speaking of “civilization” as comprising all settled, urbanized cultures that have emerged since the Neolithic Agricultural Revolution. This is not the use that “civilization” has in classic humanistic historiography, but I have discussed this elsewhere; for example, in Jacob Bronowski and Radical Reflection I wrote:

…Bronowski refers to “civilization as we know it” as being 12,000 years old, which means that he is identifying civilization with the Neolithic Agricultural Revolution and the emergence of settled life in villages and eventually cities.

Taking this long and comprehensive view of civilization, we still must contrast civilization with its prehistoric antecedents. When one realizes that the natural sciences have been writing the history of prehistory since the methods, the technologies, and the conceptual infrastructure for this have been developed since the late nineteenth century, and that paleolithic history itself admits of cultures (the Micoquien, the Mousterian, the Châtelperronian, the Aurignacian, and the Gravettian, for example), it becomes clear that “culture” is a more comprehensive category than “civilization,” and that culture is the older category. The cultures of prehistory are the antecedent institutions to the institution of civilization. This immediately suggests, in the context of futurism, that there could be a successor institution to civilization that no longer could be strictly called “civilization” but which still constituted a human culture.

Thus the question, “What comes after civilization?” when understood in an appropriately radical philosophical sense, invites us to consider post-civilizational human cultures that will not only differ profoundly from contemporary industrial-technological civilization, but which will differ profoundly from all human civilization from the Neolithic Agricultural Revolution to the present day.

Human speciation, if it occurs, will profoundly affect the development of post-human, post-civilizational cultural institutions. I have mentioned in several posts (e.g., Gödel’s Lesson for Geopolitics) that Francis Fukuyama felt obligated to add the qualification to this “end of history” thesis that if biotechnology made fundamental changes to human beings, this could result in a change to human nature, and then all bets are off for the future: in this eventuality, history will not end. Changed human beings, possibly no longer human sensu stricto, may have novel conceptions of social organization and therefore also novel conceptions of social and economic justice. From these novel conceptions may arise cultural institutions that are no longer “civilization” as we here understand civilization.

Human speciation could be facilitated by biotechnology in a way not unlike the facilitation of the industrial revolution by the systematic application of science to technological development.

Above I wrote, “human speciation, if it occurs,” and I should mention that my only hesitation here is that social or technological means may be employed in the attempt to arrest human evolution at more-or-less its present stage of development, thus forestalling human speciation. Thus my qualification on human speciation in no way arises from a hesitation to acknowledge the possibility. As far as I am concerned, human being is first and foremost biological being, and biological being is always subject to natural selection. However, technological intervention might possibly overtake natural selection, in which case we will continue to experience selection as a species, but it will be social selection and technological selection rather than natural selection.

In terms of radical scenarios for the near- and middle-term future, the most familiar on offer at present (at least, the most familiar that has some traction in the public mind) is that of the technological singularity. I have recounted in several posts the detailed predictions that have been made, including several writers and futurists who have placed definite dates on the event. For example, Vernor Vinge, who proposed the idea of the technological singularity, wrote that, “Within thirty years, we will have the technological means to create superhuman intelligence. Shortly after, the human era will be ended.” (This is from his original essay on the technological singularity published in 1993, which places the date of the advent of the technological singularity at 2023 or sooner; I understand that Mr. Vinge has since revised his forecast.)

To say that “the human era will be ended,” is certainly to predict a radical development, since it postulates a post-human future within the life time of many now living today (much like the claim that, “Verily I say unto you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power.”). If I had to predict a radical post-human future in the near- to middle-term future I would opt not for post-human machine intelligence but for human speciation facilitated by biotechnology. This latter scenario seems to me far more likely and far more plausible than the technological singularity, since we already have the technology in its essentials; it is only a matter of refining and applying existing biotechnology.

I make no predictions and set no dates because the crowding of seven billion (and counting) human beings on a single planet militates against radical changes to our species. Social pressures to avoid speciation would make such a scenario unlikely in the near- to middle-term future. If we couple human speciation with the scenario of extraterrestrialization, however, everything changes, but this pushes the scenario further into the future because we do not yet possess the infrastructure necessary to extraterrestrialization. Again, however, as with human speciation through biotechnology, we have all the technology necessary to extraterrestrialization, and it is only a matter of refining and applying existing technologies.

From this scenario of human speciation coupled with extraterrestrialization there would unquestionably emerge post-human, post-civilizational cultural institutions that would be propagated into the distant future, possibly marginalizing, and possibly entirely supplanting, human beings and human civilization as we know it today. It is to be expected that these institutions will be directly related to the way of life adopted in view of such a scenario, and this way of life will be sufficiently different from our own that its institutions and its values and its norms would be unprecedented from our perspective.

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Tuesday


Kardashev Scale

The Kardashev scale is a method of measuring an advanced civilization's level of technological advancement... first proposed in 1964 by the Soviet Russian astronomer Nikolai Kardashev... a Type I civilization has achieved mastery of the resources of its home planet, Type II of its solar system, and Type III of its galaxy. (from Wikipedia)

I have mentioned the Kardashev scale for ranking the technological achievements of civilization based on their ability to utilize energy resources in several posts: A Quick Note on Heideggerian Cosmological Eschatology, Two Conceptions of Civilization, Humanity’s Responsibility for Itself, and Intimations of Mature Civilization. Kardashev was thinking big when he formulated this civilizational metric, and that gives his idea a visionary dimension.

In A Half Century of Human Spaceflight I mentioned Kardashev again, and then went on to suggest my own technological measure of civilization based upon space travel metrics. There I formulated the following:

A Stage 0 spacefaring civilization is a non-spacefaring civilization in which life is largely dictated by regional geography.
A Stage 1 spacefaring civilization has the kind of minimal capacity that we now possess to loft satellites and human beings into orbit, and even to visit nearby heavenly bodies such as the moon.
A Stage 2 spacefaring civilization might be defined as one that had established a permanent, self-sustaining presence off the surface of the world of its biological origin.
A Stage 3 spacefaring civilization would have achieved practical and durable interstellar travel.
A Stage 4 spacefaring civilizations would be defined in terms of practical and durable inter-galactic travel.
A Stage 5 spacefaring civilizations would be defined in terms of practical and durable travel within the multiverse (i.e., among discrete universes).

I have gone into much greater detail on these stages of spacefaring civilization in The Moral Imperative of Human Spaceflight.

Not surprisingly, I prefer my own measure to that of Kardashev’s for several reasons. One of the reasons that I didn’t mention in the post in which I developed this idea is the ambiguity of the Kardashev metric in terms of actual vs. comparable energy usage. A carefully constructivist account of Kardashev would insist that a Type II civilization is “a civilization that is able to harness all of the power available from a single star” (from Wikipedia) and that all of this energy must in fact come from that star. In other words, given a strict conception of a Type II civilization, a civilization utilizing energy quantitatively equivalent to but not identical to the actual energy produced by a single star would not constitute a Type II civilization. I have read some accounts that confuse tapping the power of a star with harnessing the energy equivalent to a star. These are very different measures, but apparently these kind of conceptual slips routinely go unnoticed.

My formulation avoids this ambiguity that follows from a failure to distinguish between constructive and non-constructive conceptions. However, what these two measures of civilization — Kardashev’s and mine — have in common is that they are technological measures, and that they are readily quantifiable.

The obvious alternative to a quantitative measure would be a qualitative measure, though how any metric could be fixed on a qualitative measure is difficult to say. Many people have pointed out that the greatest poets aren’t always the greatest builders, with the implied contrary that the monuments we see now of past civilizations that were great builders represent building only, and that there may have been civilizations of great poetic monuments who left no similarly impressive remains. (A technological metric for measuring civilization is implicitly a principle of technological selection, i.e., a kind of observation selection effect.) We certainly couldn’t measure the achievement of a poetic civilization in terms of the quantity of poetry produced, since production may be in inverse proportion to quality.

Perhaps even more elusive would be a measure of civilization on moral metrics. This is not only elusive, but, like any qualitative measure, would be highly controversial. I have discussed this in posts such as The Very Idea of Higher Civilization. It is considered impolite and impolitic to measure and compare the moral or aesthetic worth of distinct civilizations, mostly because representatives of Western civilization did this so loudly and abrasively up until the nineteenth century.

There is, however, a conceivable “moral” measure that is at least in part quantifiable and perhaps slightly less controversial than any measure of aesthetic excellence or virtue in conduct. What I have in mind is a measure of the extent to which we take responsibility for our own destiny, rather than simply riding the wave of history like a surfer on the crest of a wave he did not create and which he does not control.

Whether we call it the cunning of reason (as in Hegel) or the invisible hand (as in Adam Smith) or the unconscious (as in Freud), there has been a recognition among subtle thinkers that human beings are following promptings and drives and instincts, scarcely knowing what they are doing (this position is sometimes equated with soft determinism). If it happens on occasion to add up to civilization and to great works of art, we’re ahead of the game. If it also happens, on occasion, to issue in cataclysmic wars and ingeniously diabolical forms of suffering, then it becomes a little more difficult to glibly assert that we are ahead of the game.

In other words, human beings are mostly subject to events that befall us, and even when we carefully plan for the future, and take proactive steps to shape our lives and the destiny of the world, the unintended consequences of our actions often are more profound and far-reaching than the intended consequences that we planned to bring about.

It seems to me that a truly mature civilization could be measured by the extent to which both individuals and social groups take responsibility for their own destiny, and moreover pursue this proactive sense of responsibility to the extent that unintended consequences are understood to count against our efforts, and that the only honestly measurable “success” of a civilization are those intended consequences brought to fruition with a minimum of unintended consequences. Further, a mature civilization (or the measure of a mature civilization) might also involve steps taken in the amelioration of unintended consequences.

Even on the intuitive and practical level of ordinary life we are not ignorant of the possibility of this degree of self-responsibility. For example, among people who are serious about playing pool, and not just hitting balls into pockets, you must name your shot (“eight ball in the corner pocket”), and if some other ball goes into some other pocket as an unintended consequence of your shot, this is dismissed as “sloppy” and the ball is extracted from its pocket and put back on the table.

Are we prepared, as a civilization, or will we someday be prepared, to aspire to the ethos of the pool hustler?

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I have gone into Kardashev in much more detail in my Centauri Dreams post What Kardashev Really said.

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