The Most Dangerous Philosophy in History Is Unfolding Right in Front of Us

this video is sponsored by the online personal  information removal service in cogne protect your data and personal information from data Brokers  and search sites use my link in the description to get 60% off in Cogan's annual plan In 1967,  the novel Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny was published. In it, a crew of space travelers arrive  at a new planet. They are from Earth.

Earth has long been destroyed—perhaps from war or perhaps  from being completely depleted of its resources. It isn’t totally clear. This new planet is now  their home.

On it, they begin a new society. Overtime, as the planet becomes more populated,  the original colonists devise a caste system of upper- and lower-class individuals, putting  themselves at the top. In order to maintain their power and roles, the original colonists use and  hoard advanced technologies, preventing the rest of the civilization from knowing or accessing  it.

Technological advancement is completely restricted within the rest of the population. As a  result, from their perspective of all lower-class citizens, the original colonists take on the  appearances and roles of deities. Their powers and abilities appear God-like.

Of course, however,  this is not the truth. It is not divinity. It is technology.

Eventually, one individual sets out  to rebel against the godlike regime and reveal what is true so to allow everyone to have access  to what the so-called gods have and to live better lives. In the book, this individual is a part of  a group that is known as the Accelerationists. *** Right now, in the real world, technology is advancing at rates that cannot be fathomed by  the human mind.

Generations so close to each other have never lived in realities so far apart. What  used to be the concern of centuries or decades is now of years. Consider the fact that it took  roughly eight times fewer years for humankind to go from the invention of glasses to the invention  of the microscope (about 400 years) compared to what it took for humanity to go from the discovery  of the structure of DNA to being able to literally edit human DNA (about 60 years).

Consider the fact  that the first electronic programmable computer was invented in the mid 1940s, and, around that  time, the number of transistors on microchips (which directly effects the processing power and  speed of computer devices) was a around one to five transistors. By the 1970s, that number had  risen to roughly 4,000 transistors. By the 90s, roughly a million.

By the 2000s, roughly  40 million. By the 2020s, well over 40 billion—soon approaching hundreds of billions and  beyond. This all might just sound like numbers, but it is in fact the power of a god-like force  building at a compounding rate that has long since departed from human comprehension and control.

We all seemingly now sit in the technocapitalist vehicle that we have built over the course of  modern history. And it is rapidly speeding up. There appears to be no obvious way out of this  vehicle.

Far more unsettling, there appears to be no obvious consensus about its direction. Where  is it going? Where does it end?

Does it end? Will it be good for us? Do we even have a say?

In 2008, Benjamin Noys, professor of critical theory at the University of  Chichester, wrote a blogpost. In it, he defined a term that would go on to refer  to an incredibly dark, strange, and complex political philosophy that has become increasingly  popular throughout the 2010s and 2020s. The term was accelerationism (which was inspired  by the fictional group in Zelazny’s novel, Lord of Light).

Fundamentally, accelerationism is  defined as the belief that increasing the speed of capitalistic and technological advancement and  intensifying the problems that come as a result to the point of some form of societal collapse  or significant transfiguration is a necessary and good thing. For an accelerationist, the sort  of dizzying, uncontrollable speed of technology and societal challenges, of which we are  increasingly experiencing in the modern world, should be leaned into and further accelerated.  The current system is doomed to fail, so we should simply cause it to fail sooner.

Why we should  do this and why this is a good thing largely depends on who you ask and which variant of  accelerationism the person you ask subscribes to. The origins of accelerationism are widely  attributed to the English philosopher and professor, Nick Land. In 1995, at the  University of Warwick, Land along with several other individuals formed what become known as the  Cybernetic Culture Research Unit, or the CCRU.

The CCRU was an experimental and rebel academic group  with one of its main goals being, according to one of its key members, Sadie Plant, “to undermine  the cheery utopianism of the 90s … We wanted a more open, convoluted, complicated world,  not a shiny new order. ” And on that goal, they largely delivered. Land and the other members  of the CCRU weaved together ideas from philosophy, science-fiction, cybernetics, and the occult to  create theories and ideas surrounding culture, technology, psychology, reality, and, most  importantly, how these domains interact in subversive feedback loops.

Overtime, the CCRU  would devolve more and more into occult-like and even satanic-like tendencies, which can  likely be attributed to, at least in part, the heavy substance use and mental breakdowns  amongst members—particularly Land. Soon, the group, as an organized unit, would dwindle  to an end. But the ideas it developed and disseminated would survive and go on to evolve  into and inspire various forms of accelerationism.

Accelerationism is unique for several reasons.  One particularly notable one is that it can be found on both the extreme right and extreme left  of the political spectrum. Two worldviews that couldn’t be much further apart from one another  can seemingly meet, with some level of agreement, on this idea.

Of course, as one might imagine,  there are substantial differences as to why these opposing groups embrace the philosophy. The version of accelerationism typically associated with the left, which was largely  inspired by the CCRU member Mark Fisher, is the view that accelerating technology and  capitalism to near or complete breaking points is a good thing because there are better alternative  versions of the world that are only possible on the other side of this world’s collapse. The term  collapse here does not necessarily need to mean a total, apocalyptic-like destruction—though  for some individuals, it might—but rather, an end to the current capitalist world as we know  it, resulting in a post-capitalist paradigm.

Some individuals on this side of the philosophy  hold the belief that technologies like AI and automation will ultimately take tedious work off  the human plate, expand equality and freedom for all, and increase the overall quality of the  human experience. Technology, in this view, is essentially the capitalist vehicle needed to  reach a post-capitalist society. We are on a long, hard road but we are heading for a favorable  destination.

We should therefore accelerate toward it, even if this means we might violently  sideswipe some things along the way. The sooner we arrive, the sooner things get better. Individuals on the right side of the philosophy, like Land, don’t believe in this post-capitalist  utopian vision.

For them, things are much, much bleaker. “The notion that self-propelling  technology is separable from capitalism is a deep theoretical error,” said Land. Instead,  these individuals believe that through the rapid development of capitalistic and  technological forces, the entire global system will overcome its limitations and achieve  its full potential, which will ultimately result in a technological consumption (or destruction)  of humanity and perhaps the world as a whole—a dystopian-looking scenario with transhumanist  or post-humanist rulers, massive inequality, and corporatized control.

This all, however,  is important and good to the natural order and development of existence. At the very least,  it is inevitable. For some of these individuals, the point of accelerating it all is more or less  to just get the whole thing over with.

That is, to cause the inevitable self-annihilating outcome  to occur as soon as possible. The vehicle we are in is not headed for a favorable destination, but  rather, a wall. We are traveling at fatal speeds, and we cannot stop, get out, or change directions. 

We can see the wall, and so, by accelerating, we will cause the crash to happen quicker and  spare us of the dread and chaos that would otherwise form, persist, and increase in the  anticipation of the crash. For some, perhaps anticipation of pain is worse than pain itself. For all functional purposes, accelerationism is extremely obscure with no meaningful, singular  vision for what the world will be, should be, or why.

The entire concept is somewhere  between philosophy, gospel, science-fiction, occult theory, and a potentially self-fulling  doomsday prophecy. But perhaps what’s equally if not more interesting is what accelerationism  seems to point to about humanity’s current state and sensibilities in general. In many ways, at this point in history, it’s much easier to imagine a world without  humanity at all than to imagine a world that isn’t fully intertwined with capitalism  and technological advancement.

“[There is a] widespread sense that not only is capitalism  the only viable political and economic system, but also that it is now impossible even to imagine  a coherent alternative to it,” wrote Mark Fisher. We are seemingly locked in this technocaptalistic  vehicle, destined to go wherever it goes. But that’s just it.

Where is it going? And why is it  going? There appears to be no one in the driver’s seat.

There is no clear navigation system or  central orientation. There is just this ceaseless, aimless, and inescapable forward motion. A popular sentiment amongst many powerful modern individuals, like tech-company founders,  CEOs, and investors as well as technocrats and futurists more broadly, is the belief that  progress is ultimately a natural and good thing, but it is not really something anyone can control. 

According to the mathematical physicist, quantum computing researcher, and tech company founder  Guillaume Verdon, “The goal is for the human technocapital mimetic machine to become self-aware  and to hyperstiously engineer its own growth … To lean into the natural tendencies of the system  to adapt for its own growth. ” If this is true, this raises the following questions: If it is not  us controlling it, what is? What is determining its hypersitions, success, direction, and growth? 

Is it truly purely in line with the metaphysical and natural order of the world? How do we  know, and how do we know this is a good thing? With this line of thinking increasingly gaining  popularity and control over the modern world, technology is becoming our new God.

It is  all knowing, all powerful, and all good. It is the Abrahamic God that must be worshiped  despite consequence or reason. It will create heaven and hell; it will know the wickedness and  goodness of the world; it will cause the floods; and it will usher in the apocalypse to make way  for new order and reorientation.

But all will be good, all will be part of its divine plan. Of course, there are very good, rational reasons to welcome some degree of significant  technological and capitalistic advancement. In many cases, the results of new technologies  can be incredible, fully deserving of the awe and reverence it receives.

Technologies have and  will continue to save and improve the lives of many people—in health and medicine, connectivity,  communication, accessibility, creative expression, safety, and so on. But the problem remains,  particularly with the scope and scale in the modern world, technology cannot be narrowly  controlled or focused onto any particular area or application. An AI that can easily diagnose  ailments and prescribe medical treatments can also easily diagnose an individual’s psychology and  execute effective manipulation strategies.

AI and automation that can easily execute real time stock  trading, assist with artistic and entrepreneurial creation, or carry out shipping and fulfillment  tasks, can also be used in warfare, create and distribute art and services indiscernible from  what is human-made, or maliciously alter economic and political systems. Technology is not a  hose that is used to put specific fires out; it’s always an opening of a floodgate. It will put  out fires, but it will also destroy many things.

The truth is, no one knows if something terrible  or great is going to happen—or how terrible or how great the things that will happen will be. But  our goal, obviously, should not be to accelerate bad things or knowingly permit bad things to  happen—wherever possible. We should not hinge our hopes on the romantic ideal that haphazardly  causing or allowing things to go how they are will ultimately lead to a net good.

Part of what makes  humanity as powerful as it is, is the ability to consider what is happening, to self-reflect, and  to self-correct. Perhaps we are not as helpless in the vehicle of technology and capitalism as we  might think. Perhaps we can apply the brakes in certain moments.

Perhaps we can steer in different  directions on occasion. And perhaps we can consult each other in increasingly meaningful, effective  ways to develop a more synergetic orientation and navigation system. Of course, this is all much,  much easier said than done, and perhaps, on some level, it is naïve.

But if we have the power to  create what we create, why not also the power to wield what we create in more careful ways? Our hope for our relationship and future with technology, like all things, starts with a better  understanding and relationship with ourselves. We must deeply recognize our fallibility and  ignorance—even with, and perhaps especially with, the augmentation of technology.

Technology  merely inherits our fallibility and distributes it at scale. We must move through this world  with a humility, thoughtfulness, and care, recognizing that we often don’t know what the  world will be like or should be like; that we often don’t know what the world needs or what will  make it a so-called better place. We don’t yet even properly know what we need as individuals. 

Perhaps we should strive, as individuals and as a humanity, at least at times, to slow down—in our  assessments and aspirations—to look in and down, instead of always up and forward. Our problems  are not merely technological but psychological.