The Temporal Copernican Principle
what are the odds that you live in the most important period of human existence?
Daniel Immerwahr throws a little cold tepid water on the latest diatribes of Yuval Noah Harari, an immensely successful writer and to me straightforwardly a charlatan. Harari has effectively monetized a few very marketable qualities for a writer, principally a) constantly telling readers that they and we are on the brink of earth-shattering, humanity-altering changes in the imminent future while b) expressing both those changes and their imminence in sufficiently vague terms that he’ll never be proven wrong. Lately, Harari’s interest has (of course) been in AI, insisting as so many do that contemporary systems primarily used to generate B- essays for lazy college students and logos for fantasy football teams are, somehow, going to orchestrate the most consequential revolution in the history of our planet, and soon. This has become a very common claim, inescapable, but few who make it have Harari’s history of relentless, breathless hype-mongering.
What I want to say to people like Yuval Harari is this. The modern human species is about 250,000 years old, give or take 50,000 years depending on who you ask. Let’s hope that it keeps going for awhile - we’ll be conservative and say 50,000 more years of human life. So let’s just throw out 300,000 years as the span of human existence, even though it could easily be 500,000 or a million or more. Harari's lifespan, if he's lucky, will probably top out at about 100 years. So: what are the odds that Harari’s lifespan overlaps with the most important period in human history, as he believes, given those numbers? That it overlaps with a particularly important period of human history at all? Even if we take the conservative estimate for the length of human existence of 300,000 years, that means Harari’s likely lifespan is only about .33% of the entirety of human existence. Isn’t assuming that this .33% is somehow particularly special a very bad assumption, just from the basis of probability? And shouldn’t we be even more skeptical given that our basic psychology gives us every reason to overestimate the importance of our own time?
Yes, it’s true that there’s more human beings living now than at any other time in human history. But the degree to which we’re concentrated in the present is in fact widely overestimated, thanks to old wives tales like “there’s fewer people who have lived and died at this point than those who are currently living.” This is orders of magnitudes wrong; only about 7% of the humans who have existed in history exist now. Also, claims that we know that we’re already in an especially important time right now, technologically, simply don’t hold water. Those graphs people throw around showing human technological or economic development, where the lines are flat for 10,000 years and then sudden skyrocket in the 1800s, are misleading because their scales don’t allow for us to clearly see the contemporary reality - that this period of immense technological and economic growth declined precipitously starting around 50ish years ago, and our recent developments pale in comparison to both quality of life improvements and economic growth of the past. The value associated with improvements to fossil fuel extraction, electrification, modern plumbing and sanitation and hygiene, drug development, motorized vehicles, germ theory, flight, telecommunications, etc, that were born from 1830ish to 1970ish are just immensely more consequential in human terms than the iPhone.
In cosmology, the Copernican Principle states that “humans, on the Earth or in the Solar System, are not privileged observers of the universe.” This principle is named after Copernicus because he was one of the first and most influential to challenge the millennia-old assumption that the Earth was the center of the universe. This assumption was primarily religious in character but also drew on a basic bias of human psychology: because our consciousness is the mechanism through which we understand everything, and thus our selves are always foremost in our perception, we are therefore naturally inclined to think that we must be special. The Copernican Principle says, no we aren’t - we have every reason to believe that we live in a largely-irrelevant backwater in the vast sweep of ordinary, unremarkable space. This has various important aspects for cosmology, as well as for the YouTube video essayist community when they’re trying to figure out if we’re secretly surrounded by cloaked Klingon Birds of Prey.
I would call for a Temporal Copernican Principle, an admonition that commentators on modern issues, especially AI, operate from the general assumption that we are not occupying a particularly important time period within human history. (To be clear, the ordinary Copernican Principle also has a temporal element, but that’s invoked in cosmological terms while I’m interested in human terms and a human timeline.) We should always operate from a stance of extreme skepticism that we live in a particularly important human moment, and especially when that claim is operating not on a level of politics or government or ordinary technological growth but on the level of civilization-altering, reality-overhauling change, as the AI maximalists so often endorse. Of course it’s not the case that we could never occupy a special time. But that would be an extraordinary claim requiring extraordinary evidence and an extraordinary effort to overcome our natural presentism and chauvinism, which are nearly universal and quite potent.
Some people who routinely violate the Temporal Copernican Principle include Harari, Eliezer Yudkowsky, Sam Altman, Francis Fukuyama, Elon Musk, Clay Shirky, Tyler Cowen, Matt Yglesias, Tom Friedman, Scott Alexander, every tech company CEO, Ray Kurzweil, Robin Hanson, and many many more. I think they should ask themselves how much of their understanding of the future ultimately stems from a deep-seated need to believe that their times are important because they think they themselves are important, or want to be. Because in 25 years, and in 50, and in 500, it’s almost certainly not the case that people will look back and say, ah yes, 2024/the 2020s/the first half of the 21st century was a key inflection point in human history. We’re all just part of a vast human mass, with no control over when we were born. Dust thou art, you guys, and to dust thou shalt return.
Freddie, I love your writing and deep insights on many topics - but I think you missed the mark, by a mile, with this one.
First, the probabilistic arguments you use are ridiculous on their face. You come up with an arbitrary definition of the duration of "humanity" (do Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals count? Why not only the development of agriculture, or go the other way and start with the branching off of primates?), including projecting our existence tens of thousands of years into the future, and argue, what are the odds our particular slice of existence (made arbitrarily small by your flexible assumption about the duration of humanity's existence) is significant? As though all such slices are just like any others?
This is like arguing what are the odds you're going to be involved in a plane crash on your particular flight, since we only have about one hull loss per ten million departures... ignoring the fact that a *wing just came off.*
The wing that came off is the widespread deployment and control of nuclear weapons - we now have the capability to wipe out human civilization in an hour, a power humans (or any other species on Earth) have never before possessed, ever. To argue that this doesn't mean very much is so risible that it makes me question whether you are being serious or not.
A more mundane, but equally important bit of evidence that our current slice of time is highly unusual is the continuing world-wide rise in productivity (and thus living standards). It may be sideways s-curved, or it may be linear, or exponential, but it is still rising, year after year after year, at rates that still exceed anything humanity was able to achieve until the 20th century. And, we've been able to do this with more people than have ever existed simultaneously (8 billion and counting.) That also argues that there is something incredibly unusual about the past 150 years.
You speak as though the fact that "only" 7% of all humans who have ever existed are alive today. That is not small, that is an amazingly vast fraction of humanity that is here right now. Couldn't you argue (using your rather silly equal likelihood baseline above) that since 7% of all humans ever to exist are in existence now, that the odds today is "special" ought to be around 7%?
Your arguments are so unconvincing that I wonder if you're projecting an internal urge to want to believe that the current world is just one more semi-random meandering through the otherwise undistinguished landscape of history. Because I'm quite sure that, assuming we don't nuke ourselves back into pre-history, the 20th century will stand out centuries into the future. Even if technology and productivity is a sideways s-curve and we're on the more slowly increasing part, the point of maximum slope (the mid-20th century) will *still* be of great interest.
I'd make the opposite argument from similar premises. History is all turning points.
In all of recorded history, I could not name an uneventful century. Every decade changes the world forever. Why should ours be any different?
We wouldn't have the 20s without the 10s or the 10s without the 0s, and so on. Every layer is built upon the layer below it. No doubt a superintelligent historian could reveal millions of vast and far-ranging effects of things that seemed like minor details centuries ago.