This is a good book that could have been great. I have been interested in effective altruism since I stumbled upon Practical Ethics by Peter Singer almost by chance at my college library. The reasoned perspective on doing good was seductive to an intellectually curious law sophomore, growing disenchanted with the moral foundations of juridical practice. The trend has continued strongly and has expanded conceptually since 1979, and What We Owe the Future targets a controversial branch of effective altruism: longtermism.
I find longtermism very attractive—it aligns closely with the broad ethical perspectives endorsed in Buddhism on the topic of future lives. The idea of rebirth in Buddhism is often displaced and frowned upon when read by the average Western intelligentsia. However, the practical elements of these ideas are often overlooked—and we cannot downplay the pragmatic nature of the Buddha’s teachings. They provide strong ethical foundations to a moral theory that is both elaborate and elegant, intertwining the deflationary stance of Buddhism on the ‘self’ and its non-linear approach to time. Rebirth, as a moral concept, is an extraordinary tool for contemplating the effects of our actions and how they will shape our soon-to-be reality. Longtermism goes to similar ethical terrain but dispels the metaphysics—and the results are stimulating.
This book has many good sections, but I’d highlight the discussion on the contingency of great morals. The argument goes on to say that moral progress is not a necessary consequence of our current civilizational trajectory and that moral advance can be extraordinarily contingent—that is, the result of unlikely factors that might never occur. The case of slavery abolition serves as a strong example of that argument. Reading it, we realize how extraordinary it is that abolition ever happened in the first place, as it is not at all a necessary condition for how we structure our society today. In many ways, slavery is more aligned with our current social tapestry than the other way around.
The book loses momentum, though, as it dives—way more deeply than I find it necessary—into futurism exercises and speculation on the collapse of civilization. The number of ‘ifs’ and ‘woulds’ in part III almost runs counter to the core philosophical insights of the previous sections. I still have unresolved questions about the fear rhetoric on AI singularity and technology turned against us.
Still, I finished this reading feeling encouraged to continue thinking about the long-term ethics of my actions and concerned about ‘future lives’—and you might read that last expression however suits you best.