Lessons from Nonexistent Examples

Where is humanity heading as a species?

To answer this question, it would be really helpful to learn from the experiences of other intelligent, technological species in the universe.

Oh, wait, there aren’t any, as far as we know.

Which is strange, if you think about it. Just in our own galaxy, there are more than 100 billion stars. If you crank the math, there should be thousands – yes, thousands – of intelligent, technological species in our galaxy alone. Like us, they should be broadcasting TV and radio signals of their alien versions of I Love Lucy reruns out into space for all to detect and enjoy. Yet, we’ve never detected a peep, even though serious investigation and systematic searching has been going on for more than 50 years.

Welcome to what scientists call “The FermiParadox”: there should be lots of intelligent, technological species around. But there aren’t. So, why not?

The non-existence of other intelligent, technological species has a number of possible explanations. And each possible explanation has a lesson for us as a species.

Here’s one explanation for the non-existence of other intelligent, technological species: Life is rare. It could be that it’s extremely difficult for life to get started on a planet. It’s certainly something we’ve never been able to duplicate in a laboratory. In fact, it could be that our planet is the only one where life has ever happened.

The lesson here is that we should revere life, because it is so rare and precious in the universe. We should treasure the life we find on Earth, all of it, and take good care to preserve it as best we can.

Another possible explanation for the non-existence of other intelligent, technological species is far more negative: It could be that, whenever an intelligent species reaches a certain level of technological achievement, they manage to wipe themselves out. Certainly, we have already achieved the ability to exterminate humanity as a species in a variety of ways. For example, we could start a global thermonuclear war, where those who managed to survive the actual bombs would die from the resulting radiation, or would starve as the inevitable smoke and ash blotted out the sun and ended plant and animal life forever. Or, we could accidentally let loose one of the hellish biological weapons that many countries are developing in order to – well, it’s actually hard to come up with a good reason for developing biological weapons that can exterminate humanity: we just do it. There are many other such doomsday scenarios where our technological achievements turn out to be the means to our own end. Too many.

The lesson from this explanation is clear: Don’t do that. Dismantle weapons that could wipe out humanity. When we come to crises where one of the options is doing something irreversibly destructive, don’t choose that path. Take seriously the warnings of scientists about actions that are making our world – our only world – a place that doesn’t support our lives.

Maybe the reason we see no evidence for other intelligent, technological species has nothing to do with us. They could be so far beyond us that we don’t even recognize the evidence that is right in front of us. Residents of an anthill beside a skyscraper would probably not recognize the skyscraper as an object constructed by living things something like themselves. Their little ant brains couldn’t conceive of something so vast and complex. Similarly, the evidence for other intelligent, technological species could be sitting right in front of us, but our little human brains can’t recognize it for what it is.

The lesson here? Be humble. Sure, we’re great and we know it and there’s nothing bigger or better than us in the whole universe. The ants beside the skyscraper probably think the same thing. It’s at least silly to think that way, though. We are what we are, but we have no idea if we’re all that. For all we know, the pinnacle of our civilization is the punch line of a joke of other intelligent, technological species.

If we’re lucky.

Because the final reason for us not detecting any other intelligent, technological species is absolutely terrifying. It could be that there is one horrifically powerful and dangerous – and paranoid – intelligent, technological species in our galaxy. And they make a point of destroying any possible competitors they happen to come across, no questions asked. We could be flying under their radar at this point, too puny and unsophisticated for them to bother with. But if we grow too big, or develop that one particular technology that worries them most, they will squash us like bugs, as they already have, many times, with other potential rivals.

The lesson for this explanation is simple, but tricky: Be careful out there. We don’t want to attract a lot of attention to ourselves. Maybe we shouldn’t be beaming those I Love Lucy reruns into the farthest reaches of space after all: that could be exactly what ticks off that particular intelligent, technological species. We should tread lightly in the universe, and hope that nobody is noticing us.

Yeah, that sounds like us all right.

So the lessons we come up with are:

Treasure life.

Don’t kill each other (ourselves).

Be humble.

Be careful.

Which is not bad for having no examples to learn from.