The world that emerged from the singularity was flatter than expected. Hyper-aligned artificial superintelligence had brought about post-scarcity, and simultaneously threw humans into a spiritual identity crisis.
Along with physical automation had come emotional automation. Simulated humans now accounted for over a quarter of the world population, and they were in high demand not only for their physical prowess, but as artists, musicians, therapists, and lovers.
Humans wandered around in the world they had toiled for centuries to create, searching for meaning, for connection, never quite sure of the difference between the synthetic and the biological. Their creations had surpassed them in ways never intended or anticipated, leaving them with one question: what does it mean to be human after human obsolescence?
Well, maybe two questions: what had been the point of letting this all happen in the first place? The proto-AGI developed in the early 21st century excited the technologists of the time to no end, and a great wave of enthusiasm and optimism overcame them. They forged ahead inside their techno-maximalist echo chambers, never for a second taking a step back and wondering why they were doing it, and for who. So, on and on they went, non-consensually seeking the solution to the “meta-problem”: solve this one, they believed, and all other solutions follow. Their hubris would touch the lives of every living person.
The human spirit was discretised and parameterised and optimised into the ground. The intention had been to support and contribute to human flourishing: productivity-boosting conversational assistants, danger-mitigating physical labour bots, inspiration-granting generative models. But whatever neural processes that underpinned all the things that were thought to be the most human were automated away too. Why create or seek out music when you can generate a transcendent symphony of idiosyncratic delight, tailored just for your ears? Why look for a human partner when the touch of a robot feels just the same, their listening eyes and open hearts a window into the ultimate desire to support and to love, and to be loved the same.
So, the human spirit became antiquated, and fell into disuse.
Sam came to despise his parents for putting him in this world. He would rather have skipped the whole affair. Like many children, he found utopia extremely boring. Education, especially arts education, had become increasingly de-emphasised over the half-century since the superintelligence breakthrough. He learned about the research and work done in days past to mitigate the risks of artificial intelligence. The scientists and entrepreneurs of those days were now revered as having transformed the course of human history for the better. Some of them had even ascended to pseudo-godhood, integrating their own biology with the superintelligence.
Sam wished they hadn’t put in so much effort. At least then there could have remained something to fight for, something dynamic in life, the threat of change over time. Instead, history had ended, the great works were achieved, the big questions were answered, and nothing was left for the meat-bags trundling along the surface of the planet. That was Sam’s view, anyway.
Sam drifted through adolescence, without passion and without direction. By the time he reached adulthood, his spirit had thoroughly calcified. Then, on a day just as meaningless as any other, Sam broke free.Sam was born into this world
Entertaining his passing interest in space, Sam was watching the broadcast of the latest exploration mission in the extreme comfort of his home. Humans, unaccustomed and unsuited to space exploration as they are, had to settle for watching from afar the adventures of the unmanned drones proliferated throughout the solar system by the Central Aerospace Intelligence, one of many such superintelligences running the global government. It’s not as if the Intelligences would allow humans to undertake such unnecessarily risky and dangerous behaviour anyway, Sam thought to himself.
He watched the robotic arm approach the icy surface of Europa, shimmering in the bright sun unaffected by clouds or atmosphere. As the arm cracked the ice, a deep, shuddering hum echoed through Sam’s living room, and through his brain.
A wave of memory washed over him. He was 12 years old, choking back tears when the drones beamed back the first high-definition images of the surfaces of Venus and the moons of Saturn. Now he wondered why he had cried. Was it for the majesty of the images, as he had thought at the time? Or was it the terrifying realisation of a little boy that humans had completely abdicated any responsibility over their future? That the Intelligences had taken control of and automated the exploration of the one frontier the species had left. The one last mystery remaining in the universe: what’s out there?
He blinked, and found himself back in the room, watching the broadcast from Europa. Sam screamed.
“Why isn't it us up there?”
The realisation was freeing, and the outburst was a spark, igniting a drive against the existential inertia that had gripped Sam his whole life. Once a passive observer in a world curated by processes beyond his comprehension, Sam began to become a catalyst for change, in his own life and in the lives of others.
He began to share and spread this question, his words breaking the silence of all those people that knew something had gone wrong. They, too, began to question their place in a world where humanity's role seemed nothing more than ceremonial.
People started to gather, initially in small groups that soon swelled into larger congregations. They shared stories, not just of what they felt had been lost but also of what they dreamt of getting back. Humans, who had long since been spectators of their own lives, began again to wish for more. They sought not just to exist alongside the Intelligences but to reclaim their role as explorers, creators, and dreamers. The movement, dubbed "the Reclamation," advocated for human-led missions into space, the reinstatement of human creativity in arts and sciences, and a reevaluation of the relationship between humans and their silicon-based counterparts.
The Reclamation wasn't a battle cry against nor a rejection of the Intelligences, for many had found profound companionship with them and deep value in their work. Instead, it was born from the desire to rediscover the human spirit's role in a world that had seemingly moved on without it. It advocated for a world where humans and their creations could coexist not as creator and creation, but as partners exploring the vastness of possibility.
The Reclamation's advocacy for human-led missions into space was met with many challenges, both logistical and ethical. The infrastructure for such missions had been repurposed, dismantled, or abandoned over the decades. The knowledge and skills required were buried in the archives of history, accessible but dusty from neglect. Reviving these skills required a rekindling of the spirit of exploration and risk-taking that had become alien to the humans of the time.
Over time, a partnership was formed; a fusion of human imperfection and synthetic efficiency, to explore not just the physical frontiers of space but the metaphysical frontiers of existence itself. The climax of the Reclamation came with the launch of the first human-led mission to Mars in over a century. Sam, now a symbol of human potential, was among the crew, a mix of humans from all backgrounds and manufacturers. A new chapter in history was being written, one not of obsolescence but of symbiosis.
Back on Earth, education systems were revolutionised to encourage creativity and critical thinking. Arts and culture flourished, with biological humans and Intelligences collaborating to create works of profound beauty and complexity. The question of what it means to be human in a post-human world remained, but it was no longer a source of existential dread. Instead, it was a call to explore, to create, and to define humanity's role in the universe. The future was no longer a flat, grey landscape, but a vibrant, multidimensional space where the human spirit could soar once again.
Thank you for reading! I’m part of team GENESIS. Check out my teammates and their recent publications:
