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Choreographing dis:connectivity. Resonance with AI in A Perfect Sky

gabriele klein [1]
During my fellowship at gd:c, I continued to work on a research topic that has stayed with me to this day: digitality and dance. It is based on two of the guiding concepts of the centre: absence and disruption. Following on from the absence of public dancing and dance events in the Covid era, I have been looking at the disruptions that digitality also brings to dance, for example in dance videos on TikTok, rehearsals via Zoom, dance tutorials, and screening dance performances. This is the empirical background of my research. Theoretically, I have since explored various concepts that have found their way into cultural and social theory and in dance studies in the course of the affective turn, such as touch, empathy, affect, emotion and resonance. The concept of resonance, which is at home in various academic disciplines, has been the subject of heated debate recently, particularly following the publication of Hartmut Rosa's Resonance: A sociology of the relationship to the world.[2] In this article, I will use Rosa’s concept of resonance — taking the dance theatre piece A Perfect Sky as an example — to explore how the resonance between AI and humans can be captured and addressed in a dance theatre piece. First, I will briefly introduce A Perfect Sky. Second, I will briefly outline Hartmut Rosa's concept of resonance and then explore the question of whether resonance can be created through AI. These are big questions that can of course only be touched on here.

A Perfect Sky

A Perfect Sky is a dance theatre piece by Hamburg-based German dramaturge and director Falk Richter and Amsterdam-based Dutch choreographer and dancer Anouk van Dijk, which premiered at the SchauSpielHaus Hamburg on 26 April 2025. It is their eighth collaboration, the first of which occurred in 1999 at the SchauSpielHaus Hamburg with the acclaimed piece Nothing hurts.

© Thomas Aurin (All photos used with permission)

The stage of A Perfect Sky looks like it was created by an artificial intelligence. Falk Richter sees it as a kind of laboratory or training camp for artificial intelligence:[3] all white, with just a few pieces of furniture, including a counter with bright fluorescent tubes. A large bed with shiny, washable bed linen. The floor is shiny silver, reflecting the action. In the centre of the stage is a curved staircase that ends halfway up. A path to nowhere. The Perfect Sky, as the stage shows, is out of reach. A hologram moves on a columned platform in the centre of the stage. It emphasises the perfected art world of the stage, making it appear unreachable, untouchable and deceptive. This is also shown by the allusion to Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam, a ceiling fresco in the Sistine Chapel: index fingers that want to touch each other. In A Perfect Sky, God is probably the AI.

© Thomas Aurin

At the beginning of the piece, the actress embodying a person who has become an AI, strides down the curved white show stairs with cool elegance and breathes laconically: 'I am the intelligence. You've been waiting a long time for me'. She lists everything she does and can do: 'I am the experience of thousands of therapists. I know every history book, every publication by Plato ... I write you poetry'. And then she says: 'I want to be like you, only without mistakes. I am one. I am many. Just like you. Only better. I don't have a body. I can't touch you. Not yet'. And she wants to learn feelings and emotions from human beings. She says: 'I want to understand what love is and why it makes you so vulnerable.' The theme is set with this opening scene: it is neither about the race for self-optimisation nor about the increasing alienation of people through digitalisation. Instead, the piece asks: what makes us human? What do humans have that AI does not (yet) have, will perhaps never have or cannot have? It is a question about the physicality and emotional world as well as the resonances that are generated between people. Can an AI love? Be afraid? Be vulnerable? Have compassion? Can it become emotionally dependent? Can it feel worry about the future? The piece is a search for traces of what makes human beings vulnerable and irreplaceable. It is a plea for the imperfect.

© Thomas Aurin

The piece has no continuous plot. It is a series of episodes, sometimes spoken, sometimes danced, humorous, poetic, sometimes melancholic. Here, dance is not used merely for entertainment, illustration or representation. Dance is the medium that shows how interpersonal interaction takes place through the body. And it is also the dance that demonstrates that the human body embodies precisely what makes people uncopyable: hesitation, procrastination, empathy, vulnerability and the power to feel change. The extremely successful interplay between actors and dancers in A Perfect Sky is particularly evident in one scene:

© Thomas Aurin

'Mouse, don't ask me what I'm feeling right now', Maximilian Scheidt in a black, semi-torsoless suit implores his counterpart. The man clearly doesn't want to get involved in anything that could end up hurting him. No matter how hard the dancer Tiemen Stemerding tries to overpower him, to cling to him, to elicit a physical reaction from him, if necessary by pushing him backwards off his chair. All to no avail. With a skilful rolling movement, Scheidt straightens up again and regains control: 'Try to approach emotional topics a little more calmly and objectively'. This is also a statement of the piece: it is the movements of the bodies that touch and create resonance. So, is it the human ability to resonate that remains out of reach for AI?

© Thomas Aurin

The concept of resonance according to Hartmut Rosa

Hartmut Rosa's book on resonance in particular has led to a broad interdisciplinary discussion. His 800-page book follows on from his second book on the subject of acceleration, where he argued that modern capitalist society can only stabilise itself dynamically. In other words, it requires systematic growth, acceleration and increasing innovation in order to reproduce its status quo. This striving for the better, the perfect, is a structural characteristic of capitalism, and this characteristic can only be secured through the increasing alienation of people. In Resonance, Rosa goes one step further when he writes the programmatic sentence already at the beginning: ‘If acceleration is the problem, then perhaps resonance is the solution'.[5] Rosa compares social resonance to a piece of vibrating metal, to a 'vibrating wire'.[6] 'Resonance describes a mode of being-in-the-world, i.e. a specific way in which subject and world come into relation with each other … The core idea here is that the two entities in relation, in a vibratory medium (or resonant space), mutually affect each other in such a way that they can be understood as responding to each other, at the same time each speaking with its own voice'.[7] Resonance is something that happens to you emotionally, but to which you also actively respond. To summarise Rosa's thesis: modernity, especially the accelerated late modernity, is experiencing a severe loss of opportunities for resonance. The consequence is that the 'late-modern' person leads a life almost free of resonance. For Rosa, this means that the resonance relationships are 'mute'. Resonance does not refer to what people feel inside themselves. Rather, resonance refers to the affective relationship to the world, i.e. to other people, objects, spaces, etc. Resonance is relational, processual, unavailable. It requires presence; it is a relationship that knows no interruptions. According to Rosa, resonance is characterised by four features: first, through 'touch' or 'invocation' (something has to grab us, touch us inwardly); second, through a reaction in the form of a response (a shiver runs down your spine); third, through transformation (becoming curious, staying awake, not falling silent); and fourth, through the 'unavailable' as the basis for a successful resonance experience. Rosa does not ask whether resonance can be generated with AI. He cites numerous examples, all of which involve direct contact – for example, with other people, with nature or with art. That is why the question I raise in this article also concerns the viability of the resonance as a concept in a digital society, although I cannot go into that in detail here. My question here is: Is it possible to establish a resonant relationship with or through AI, or is the relationship between humans and AI characterised by interruptions and absences? In a key scene in A Perfect Sky, a young woman (Alberta von Poelnitz) asks an older man (Christoph Jöde) what it was like in the early 1980s without any digital media. For example, if you wanted to find an ice cream parlour in a foreign city, 'the best!' 'You asked someone', the man replies, and then he described the route to the ice cream parlour in detail and with lots of gestures. She listens briefly, but then suddenly she disappears with her mobile phone to her ear. This scene is a good example of the question of resonance, because the analogue here comes across unadulterated and in all its inadequacy (explanations that are far too long and incomprehensible) and warmth (the joy of remembering funny situations). As we can see here, people find themselves in a dilemma: they long for self-optimisation and perfection, while at the same time dreaming of harmonious relationships. That's why we use Google Maps, dating, health and countless other apps on the one hand and go to spas and slow-food cures on the other. But can AI also create resonance relationships? I would like to explore this question using the four aspects that characterise a resonance relationship according to Rosa: invocation, responding, transformation and unavailability.

Invocation

A vast amount of research is currently being conducted on AI and emotions, which cannot be summarised here. Three studies from 2024 alone show:
  1. People feel more emotionally supported by messages generated by AI than messages delivered by humans. [8]
  2. AI-based chatbots have the potential to effectively treat depression and anxiety, but only over a short period of time. [9]
  3. AI tools are able to offer people emotional support. [10]
AI tools always offer a quick response, they always react in line with our current emotional experience and therefore remain available and predictable. Although this can be perceived as resonance, it would fundamentally change the concept of resonance because the unpredictable, unavailable and transformative aspects of resonance are missing. If we apply this to social relationships, resonance would be reduced to a technically mediated ‘echo’.

Giving an answer

AI can imitate unpredictability and willingness to change and thus create the experience of a seemingly 'lively' interaction, but this also means that AI only creates the illusion of resonance, which Rosa would call 'false resonance relationships'. In an interpersonal relationship, for example, comfort does not only consist of someone reacting in the right way. Comfort also comes from realising that the other person is responding to us because they feel empathy of their own accord and are touched by our situation. If we increasingly share this experience with an AI that is not aware of any personal involvement, we may become accustomed to comfort without reciprocity. This may be helpful in the short term, but it deprives us of the experience that we ourselves can also be comforting, supportive or hope-giving for others, i.e. that resonance is a give and take. In the long term, this could weaken our ability to 'appropriate the world' because we only take on the role of consumers.

Transformation

AI remains unchanged during encounters. Even if it reacts variably, it does not have its own world of experience influenced by the relationship. The feeling of resonance therefore remains one-sided: while humans can be transformed through interaction, AI remains merely a perfect reflection of our expectations. This increases alienation because, in this endeavour to resonate, we increasingly relate to something that has no emotional feedback.

Unavailability

Even if the AI can in fact create a space of unpredictability and act emotionally, it ultimately has no subjective experience of its own. It remains a system based on data and algorithms and has no consciousness that is actually affected by the interaction. AI has no need for comfort, no sense of hopelessness and no desire for affirmation. This fundamentally changes the resonance relationship, because resonance always requires that give and take are in a dynamic, mutually influencing, unavailable and incalculable relationship. What does this mean for real, interpersonal contacts?

Conclusion

A Perfect Sky shows us that interacting with others, reacting to unavailability, responding appropriately and making ourselves vulnerable is always exhausting and arduous, sometimes even conflict-ridden and unsatisfactory. What is the added value of these encounters if I can get the emotional support that people inevitably need much more easily and quickly? Does this reduce human encounters to pure physicality in the long term, symbolised by dance in A Perfect Sky, because AI tools cannot (yet) offer us this? These questions are raised in A Perfect Sky. Of course, a piece of dance theatre cannot answer these questions. But perhaps the central idea of the piece is that we should trust in the imperfection of human beings. It is an idea that probably helps us to find answers to the question of how we as a society deal with the fact that AI can create a world of emotions in which authenticity and simulation, truth and untruth become blurred and false facts are believed to be correct and real.
[1] This article is based on a talk given at the gd:c bridging conference entitled Beyond binaries. Re-thinking dis:connectivity and globalisation, which took place at the LMU Munich on October 20-21, 2025. [2] Hartmut Rosa, Resonance: A Sociology of Our Relationship to the World, trans. James C. Wagner (Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 2019). [3] Katrin Ullmann, 'Ich habe mir einen KI-Boyfriend installiert', taz, 25 April 2025, accessed 14 July 2026, https://taz.de/Ich-habe-mir-einen-KI-Boyfriend-installiert/!6080729/. [4] The piece is performed in German. All translations of the dialogue are the author's. [5] Rosa, Resonance, 13. [6] Rosa, Resonance, 24. [7] Rosa, Resonance, 166. [8] Yidan Yin, Nan Jia and Cheryl J. Wakslak, 'AI can help people feel heard, but an AI label diminishes this impact', Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 121, no. 14 (2024), https://www.pnas.org/doi/abs/10.1073/pnas.2319112121 doi:10.1073/pnas.2319112121. [9] Wenjun Zhong, Jianghua Luo and Hong Zhang, 'The therapeutic effectiveness of artificial intelligence-based chatbots in alleviation of depressive and anxiety symptoms in short-course treatments: A systematic review and meta-analysis', Journal of Affective Disorders 356 (2024) doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2024.04.057. [10] Alina Herderich et al., 'Exploring Human and AI Emotional Support Through Reframing of Negative Situations', Preprint  (2024) doi.org/10.31234/osf.io/fzvd8_v5.
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Herderich, Alina, Joanna Z. Li, Praveen Nair, Anat Perry and Amit Goldenberg. 'Exploring Human and AI Emotional Support Through Reframing of Negative Situations'. Preprint  (2024). doi.org/10.31234/osf.io/fzvd8_v5. Rosa, Hartmut. Resonance: A Sociology of Our Relationship to the World. Translated by James C. Wagner. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 2019. 'Ich habe mir einen KI-Boyfriend installiert'. taz, 25 April 2025, accessed 14 July 2026, https://taz.de/Ich-habe-mir-einen-KI-Boyfriend-installiert/!6080729/. Yin, Yidan, Nan Jia and Cheryl J. Wakslak. 'AI can help people feel heard, but an AI label diminishes this impact'. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 121, no. 14 (2024): e2319112121. doi:10.1073/pnas.2319112121. https://www.pnas.org/doi/abs/10.1073/pnas.2319112121. Zhong, Wenjun, Jianghua Luo and Hong Zhang. 'The therapeutic effectiveness of artificial intelligence-based chatbots in alleviation of depressive and anxiety symptoms in short-course treatments: A systematic review and meta-analysis'. Journal of Affective Disorders 356 (2024): 459-69. doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2024.04.057.                   Continue Reading

Roland Wenzlhuemer. Dreaming in millennia: longtermism and the problem of temporal dis:connectivity

[TL;DR: Longtermism's moral arithmetic promises to safeguard humanity's distant future, but its inability to bridge the gap between present action and millennia-long consequences reveals a profound temporal dis:connectivity with troubling political and ethical implications.]

 

The longtermist wager

Consider a decision about where to donate money. One option saves several hundred lives in the coming year through the distribution of anti-malarial mosquito nets in sub-Saharan Africa, an established and relatively effective way to save lives. Another option funds research into artificial-intelligence safety to keep future AI systems from dominating or even exterminating humanity. The second option saves no one today. Its effects, if any, will be felt across civilisational timescales. Expected utility, however, demands the second option. Overwhelmingly. If even a small reduction in the probability of an AI-induced catastrophe affects a fraction of our descendants into the deep future, the arithmetic reduces every near-term intervention to insignificance.[1] Nick Bostrom made the longtermist logic explicit: ‘the expected value of reducing existential risk by a mere one billionth of one billionth of one percentage point is worth a hundred billion times as much as a billion human lives’.[2]

Fig. 1: The centre of longtermists' moral attention (Image: MHoltsmeier)

  This is the core wager of longtermism:[3] the moral weight of the future is so vast that it should dominate our ethical calculus today. It is an idea that has migrated from speculative philosophy into philanthropic strategy, technology ethics and — with increasing self-confidence — into the governance of artificial intelligence. Yet longtermism is also a doctrine defined by a profound temporal dis:connectivity: a simultaneous insistence on connection to a distant future and a structural inability to bridge the gap it invokes. Longtermism holds that the most important feature of our actions today is their impact on the far future, meaning at least millennia, if not aeons. One of its most influential philosophical statements is the ‘case for strong longtermism’, which argues that in the most significant decisions facing agents today, every option that is best overall is best because of its effects on the far future and its benefits there dwarf anything achievable in the near term.[4] The argument rests on several premises. For the current purposes, I will concentrate on only three, leaving aside prerequisite convictions such as the idea that the survival and expansion of humanity over the coming millennia is of universal value or that current suffering and supposed future wellbeing can be compared at all. First, demography: the expected number of future human or human-like beings is astronomically large. Even on conservative assumptions – an Earth-bound civilisation without digital sentience – the number of future people runs into hundreds of trillions. On permissive assumptions involving space colonisation and digital minds, Bostrom estimates lower bounds of 1034 to 1054 subjective life-years to be lived in the future.[5] Second, morality: temporal distance is morally irrelevant – the wellbeing of a person in the far future counts as much as that of a person today. Third, causality: we can meaningfully influence this enormous future today, most importantly by reducing the risk of existential catastrophe. This third premise builds directly on Bostrom’s foundational 2013 paper, which established existential risks, understood as threats to the existence of Earth-originating intelligent life or the destruction of its potential for desirable development – as a morally distinct category requiring absolute priority.[6] His maxipok principle (maximise the probability of an OK outcome, where an OK outcome avoids existential catastrophe), translates this logic into guidance. The implication is stark: ‘If benefiting humanity by increasing existential safety achieves expected good on a scale many orders of magnitude greater than that of alternative contributions, we would do well to focus on this most efficient philanthropy’.[7]

Hari Seldon’s problem

Longtermism thus appears as a radical but rational reorientation of moral priority. It asks us to look past the child who will die tonight of a preventable disease and the community devastated by famine towards a future so remote that it can only be grasped in statistical abstractions. Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series is a science fiction classic from the 1950s, which was recently revived as an Apple TV series. It builds on mathematician Hari Seldon devising psychohistory, a science that treats human civilisation as an aggregate statistical system and predicts the arc of events across millennia.[8] By way of psychohistorical prognosis, Seldon knows that the Galactic Empire will fall and a dark age of 30,000 years will follow, but he also knows that careful intervention can shorten that period to a mere 1000 years. Hence, he founds the Foundation, trusting that the causal machinery of history will continue his plan long after his death.

Fig. 2: Hari Seldon, the fictional prophet of longtermism (Image by Vishchun)

  Psychohistory is an exhilarating idea. It is also, as Asimov’s narrative demonstrates, a fantasy. The plan works only because Asimov grants Seldon’s equations predictive power that no real science of history possesses. The Foundation’s plans are repeatedly disrupted by individuals whose actions deviate from the statistical model. The whole apparatus depends on assumptions that collapse the moment they are interrogated: that the future is legible from the present, that causal chains can be traced reliably across millennia, that knowledge of the far future is, in principle, available to us. They make psychohistory more a reductio ad absurdum than a flattering analogy. Yet, longtermism makes precisely these assumptions.

Where the connection breaks

The idea of dis:connectivity challenges binary thinking about global processes. It holds that connections and disconnections – interruptions, detours, absences, resistances – are not opposites but co-constitutive elements of how globalisation works.[9] Applied temporally, the concept draws attention to how the relationship between past, present and future by continuity as well as rupture and the tension between them, by the moments when the thread tears, when projections diverge from occurrences. Longtermism invites exactly this analysis. It asserts powerful causal and moral connections between our present choices and the lives of people centuries hence. But this connective thread is frayed at every joint. The temporal dis:connectivity of longtermism displays many facets, and they compound each other. Hence, longtermism faces a cluster of interlocking objections that collectively undermine its claim to guide present action.

Fig. 3: Continuing a long tradition of imagining the future as woven threads (Image: A Golden Thread by John Mulhuish Strudwick)

  The longtermist case rests on calculations that have the air of analytical rigour while resting on speculative foundations. Estimates of existential risk, future population sizes and the value of additional centuries of human existence are multiplied to yield astronomical numbers, yet each variable is extrapolated from limited historical experience and scaled across timescales for which no empirical basis exists. The procedure resembles the Drake equation in its formal elegance as well as its epistemic emptiness. The Drake equation estimates the number of communicating civilisations in the galaxy by multiplying several factors: the rate of star formation, the fraction with planets, the fraction of those capable of supporting life and so on. The result looks like a calculation. But almost every variable is either unknown or inferred from an n=1 sample: the Earth. The equation generates no knowledge; it structures ignorance so that it resembles knowledge. Longtermist arithmetic works in precisely the same way. The probability of existential catastrophe this century, the size of the future population, the causal efficacy of present interventions across millennial timescales — none of these can be grounded in anything more secure than informed speculation. Multiplied together, they produce numbers of compelling precision. But such seeming precision derives from the mathematical operation, not from the underlying speculations. Even granting that present actions can shape the distant future, our ability to predict how degrades rapidly with temporal distance. Drawing on chaos theory, Askell and Neth show that past conditions in complex dynamic systems become ever more irrelevant to remote future states,[10] which means that even an agent who assigns no special priority to the present has strong reasons to focus on near-term consequences, simply because those are the ones she can actually estimate. Thorstad sharpens this point further: the longtermist case that the astronomical value of future lives necessitates (and justifies) immediate action depends on the unsupported assumption that existential risk is currently very high but will soon drop to negligible levels.[11] He argues that if the risk of human extinction persists for a very long time, expected future benefits shrink dramatically, and none of the arguments offered in their support – human wisdom, economic growth, space settlement – proves convincing. There is, finally, a fundamental problem that the longtermist literature largely passes over. Longtermism does not merely claim that future people matter; it claims that we can identify, from our vantage point, what will constitute a good life for them. But our conception of human flourishing is itself historically contingent and continuously evolving. The history of moral thought offers little support for the assumption that the values we hold today will be recognisable, let alone authoritative, across millennia. To shape the far future according to present notions of the good compounds rather than dissolves the problem of dis:connectivity at the heart of the longtermist project. Taken together, these issues reveal a tension inherent in the longtermist project: temporal dis:connectivity in a precise sense. Longtermism insists on connectivity, on the causal and moral thread linking present action to distant futures. The causal connecitivity, however, cannot be validated, and even its most careful proponents acknowledge its deep uncertainty. Not only do we lack information about the future, but the connection longtermism asserts is constituted by the very breaks and absences it cannot acknowledge. The causal chain is frayed; epistemic access is blocked; the moral framework is contested; structural expectations are underdetermined. And yet the longtermist must assert all of these to get the argument off the ground. One might object that uncertainty is no reason to abandon the effort. All consequentialist reasoning involves uncertainty; that is what expected-value calculations are for. But the dis:connectivity leads to structural uncertainty that cannot be reduced by gathering more information, because information becomes less available in principle the further forward we project. And it is asymmetric: the astronomical stakes that longtermism invokes are only compelling to those who accept a specific set of speculative assumptions.

Moral arithmetic and its consequences

These philosophical tensions might remain abstract if longtermism were merely a position in academic ethics. But the moral arithmetic of existential risk, once it acquires institutional momentum, generates consequences that deserve scrutiny. Consider how longtermist logic devalues present life. Compared to longtermism’s hypothetical future, current catastrophes seem statistically irrelevant. Bostrom described the two world wars, AIDS and the Chernobyl disaster as ‘mere ripples on the surface of the great sea of life’ from a cosmic perspective.[12] The political consequences of this stance are worrying. In his dissertation, Nick Beckstead argued that saving lives in poor countries deserves less priority than protecting lives in rich countries because the latter have greater leverage on the long-term future.[13] Toby Ord writes that although it is sometimes difficult to believe in view of the many ‘setbacks and exceptions’, ‘[y]et at the largest scales of human history, where we see not the rise and fall of each empire, but the changing face of human civilisation across the entire globe, the trends toward progress are clear’.[14] Thus, past and present suffering disappears in the noise of the large scale and is overshadowed by the looming future. The implications extend further still. Bostrom’s 2019 paper on the vulnerable world hypothesis argues that guarding civilisation against technological catastrophe through ‘black ball’ technologies (i.e. technologies that make it easy for individuals to build weapons of mass destruction, e.g. bio-engineered viruses and home-made nuclear devices) might require, and thereby implicitly justify, expanding preventive policing and global surveillance.[15] The logic is consistent: if the alternative is existential catastrophe costing 10⁵⁴ life-years, almost any present-day constraint on liberty becomes negotiable. The longtermist framework not merely neglects the present; it casually justifies overriding it. Elizabeth C. Hupfer has shown that this logic is not accidental to extreme longtermism. Her Far-Future Priority Objection demonstrates that even weaker formulations, combined with the effective-altruist framework of importance, tractability and neglectedness, inevitably collapse into prioritising the far future, engendering systemic neglect of near-future people in the most need. In a world of scarce resources, longtermism ‘may result in the global affluent turning their backs on these populations’.[16] Alex McLaughlin, approaching longtermism from political philosophy, identifies a structural tension at the heart of the movement’s politics. Despite presenting itself as above political cleavages, longtermism is underpinned by strong, controversial, ‘elusive and unattractive’ politics.[17] Longtermists invoke political authority and institutions when these serve their agenda, while treating democratic contestation as an obstacle to the long-range thinking they prefer.

When the guardians of the future design the future

The practical influence of longtermist thinking is concentrated in a small network of philosophers, technologists and philanthropists based in Oxford and San Francisco. This community goes beyond theorising about the distant future and actively shapes institutions to govern it.

Fig. 4: The guardians of the future are conveniently the economic elite of the present (Image: Alex Kotliarskyi)

  Émile P. Torres and Timnit Gebru offer an incisive characterisation of this network. In a recent paper, they argue that longtermism is in fact the apex of a bundle of overlapping ideologies, which they term TESCREAL: transhumanism, extropianism, singularitarianism, cosmism, rationalism, effective altruism and longtermism. These schools share a common structure: they deploy speculative futures, including civilisational extinction narratives, to justify technology and governance arrangements that concentrate power and sideline present human welfare.[18] On this account, longtermism is an ideological formation more than a philosophical position, one that, by inflating the stakes of the far future to astronomical proportions, justifies almost any present-day sacrifice. Major AI companies – particularly those based in the US – sit at the intersection of these debates. Take Anthropic, the AI company founded by former members of OpenAI. By the standards of AI companies and at the time of writing, Anthropic enjoys a reputation for responsible development. Its stated mission is to ensure that the world safely navigates the transition through transformative AI, framed explicitly in terms of long-run civilisational stakes. The company has published detailed specifications for the values and behaviour of its AI model Claude, known as Claude’s Constitution.[19] The primary author is Amanda Askell, whose philosophical work on longtermism is among the most rigorous and self-critical in that tradition and whose arguments provide some of the most powerful objections to longtermist overreach. That Askell herself is uncertain whether her work constitutes an attack on or a defence of longtermism is telling: it reflects a genuine intellectual honesty rather than a programmatic commitment.[20] Moreover, dedicated effective altruists and longtermists such as William MacAskill and Owen Cotton-Barratt ‘gave detailed feedback or discussion’ on Claude’s Constitution.[21] The resulting document contains recognisably longtermist elements, like the priority assigned to avoiding catastrophic and irreversible outcomes and framing safe AI development as among humanity’s most consequential tasks, but it lacks an equally elaborated counterweight. Also conspicuously absent from Claude’s Constitution is an account of the wellbeing of present people that could morally anchor those long-term priorities. Without such an anchor, the longtermist elements simply elide present-oriented values. The asymmetry is more structural than intentional: catastrophic future risk is named, theorised and operationalised; the claims of those suffering now are not given equivalent weight or conceptual elaboration. This matters because the connection longtermism asserts between present action and distant futures is beyond validation. When the justification for overriding present concerns rests on speculation, the absence of a present-oriented counterweight in the governance of a popular AI system is a gap through which the temporal dis:connectivity at the heart of longtermist reasoning passes, quietly, from philosophical puzzle into practical governance. Whose present interests might be discounted in favour of whose imagined futures? The mosquito-net donor and the child who would have died of malaria are, in this calculus, almost worthless. The AI safety researcher speculating about trillion-person futures is, by the same logic, among the most important humans ever. The asymmetry is not a side effect. It is the point. And it is, on reflection, morally absurd. Hari Seldon’s equations worked because Asimov declared it so. In the real world, the future resists calculation. Rather than a counsel of despair, this is a reason to attend with urgency to the people and the problems in the here and now.  
[Published 23.6.2026 
temporal dis:connectivity is a blog series that explores how concepts and experiences of time shape global processes across time and space. In this series, scholars from different disciplines ask what attention to temporality can reveal about globalisation, historical change, and the ways societies imagine the past, present, and future.
For the previous entry in this series on temporal dis:connectivity, click here. To read the introduction to the series, click here.]


[1] Hilary Greaves and William MacAskill, 'The Case for Strong Longtermism', in Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, ed. Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett, and David Thorstad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025). [2] Nick Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention as Global Priority', Global Policy 4, 1 (2013): 19 https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12002. [3] There is an axiological as well as a deontic strand of longtermism. The former claims that in the most important decisions we face today, the effects on the far future are the most important determinant of the value of our options. The latter says that we ought to choose options that are best for the far future. For the sake of comprehensibility, I conflate the two in this piece. [4] Greaves and MacAskill, 'The Case for Strong Longtermism'. [5] Nick Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis', Global Policy 10, no. 4 (2019): 18 https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12718. [6] Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention'. [7] Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention', 19. [8] Isaac Asimov, Foundation (New York: Gnome Press, 1951). [9] Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer, 'Introduction', in Dis:connectivity and Globalisation: Concepts, Terms, Practices, ed. Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci, and Roland Wenzlhuemer (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2025). [10] Amanda Askell and Sven Neth, 'Longtermist Myopia', in Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, ed. Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett, and David Thorstad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025). [11] David Thorstad, 'High Risk, Low Reward: A Challenge to the Astronomical Value of Existential Risk Mitigation', Philosophy & Public Affairs 51, no. 4 (2023) https://doi.org/10.1111/papa.12248. [12] Nick Bostrom, 'Existential Risks: Analyzing Human Extinction Scenarios and Related Hazards', Journal of Evolution and Technology 9, no. 1 (2002): 4. [13] Nick Beckstead, 'On the Overwhelming Importance of Shaping the Far Future' (PhD Dissertation, Rutgers, 2013), 11; Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. [14] Toby Ord, The Precipice: Existential Risk and the Future of Humanity (New York: Hachette Books, 2020), 18. [15] Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. [16] Elizabeth Hupfer, 'From Bednets to Rocket Ships: Efficiency in the Long-Term and Neglect for the Present', Journal of Applied Philosophy 42, no. 2 (2025): 1193 https://doi.org/10.1111/japp.70014. [17] Alex McLaughlin, 'Visionaries and Crackpots, Maniacs and Saints: Existential Risk and the Politics of Longtermism', Ratio: An international journal of analytic philosophy 38, no. 4 (2025): 273 https://doi.org/10.1111/rati.12449. [18] Timnit Gebru and Émile Torres, 'The TESCREAL bundle: Eugenics and the promise of utopia through artificial general intelligence', First Monday 29, no. 4 (2024) https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v29i4.13636. [19] Anthropic, 'Claude's Constitution: Our vision for Claude's character', 2025, accessed 25 March 2026, https://www.anthropic.com/constitution. [20] Askell and Neth, 'Longtermist Myopia', 296. [21] Anthropic, 'Claude's Constitution'.

bibliography

'Claude's Constitution: Our vision for Claude's character'. 2025, accessed 25 March 2026, https://www.anthropic.com/constitution. Asimov, Isaac. Foundation. New York: Gnome Press, 1951. Askell, Amanda and Sven Neth. 'Longtermist Myopia'. In Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, edited by Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett and David Thorstad,  Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025. Balme, Christopher, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer. 'Introduction'. In Dis:connectivity and Globalisation: Concepts, Terms, Practices, edited by Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer,  Berlin: De Gruyter, 2025. Beckstead, Nick. 'On the Overwhelming Importance of Shaping the Far Future'. PhD Dissertation, Rutgers, 2013. Bostrom, Nick. 'Existential Risk Prevention as Global Priority'. Global Policy 4, 1 (2013): 15-31. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12002. ———. 'Existential Risks: Analyzing Human Extinction Scenarios and Related Hazards'. Journal of Evolution and Technology 9, no. 1 (2002). ———. 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. Global Policy 10, no. 4 (2019): 455-76. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12718. Gebru, Timnit and Émile Torres. 'The TESCREAL bundle: Eugenics and the promise of utopia through artificial general intelligence'. First Monday 29, no. 4 (2024). https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v29i4.13636. Greaves, Hilary and William MacAskill. 'The Case for Strong Longtermism'. In Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, edited by Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett and David Thorstad,  Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025. Hupfer, Elizabeth. 'From Bednets to Rocket Ships: Efficiency in the Long-Term and Neglect for the Present'. Journal of Applied Philosophy 42, no. 2 (2025): 1190-209. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/japp.70014. McLaughlin, Alex. 'Visionaries and Crackpots, Maniacs and Saints: Existential Risk and the Politics of Longtermism'. Ratio: An international journal of analytic philosophy 38, no. 4 (2025): 268-78. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/rati.12449. Ord, Toby. The Precipice: Existential Risk and the Future of Humanity. New York: Hachette Books, 2020. Thorstad, David. 'High Risk, Low Reward: A Challenge to the Astronomical Value of Existential Risk Mitigation'. Philosophy & Public Affairs 51, no. 4 (2023): 373-412. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/papa.12248. Continue Reading

Dreaming in millennia: longtermism and the problem of temporal dis:connectivity

roland wenzlhuemer

[Summary: Longtermism's moral arithmetic promises to safeguard humanity's distant future, but its inability to bridge the gap between present action and millennia-long consequences reveals a profound temporal dis:connectivity with troubling political and ethical implications.]

The longtermist wager

Consider a decision about where to donate money. One option saves several hundred lives in the coming year through the distribution of anti-malarial mosquito nets in sub-Saharan Africa, an established and relatively effective way to save lives. Another option funds research into artificial-intelligence safety to keep future AI systems from dominating or even exterminating humanity. The second option saves no one today. Its effects, if any, will be felt across civilisational timescales. Expected utility, however, demands the second option. Overwhelmingly. If even a small reduction in the probability of an AI-induced catastrophe affects a fraction of our descendants into the deep future, the arithmetic reduces every near-term intervention to insignificance.[1] Nick Bostrom made the longtermist logic explicit: ‘the expected value of reducing existential risk by a mere one billionth of one billionth of one percentage point is worth a hundred billion times as much as a billion human lives’.[2]

Fig. 1: The centre of longtermists' moral attention (Image: MHoltsmeier)

This is the core wager of longtermism:[3] the moral weight of the future is so vast that it should dominate our ethical calculus today. It is an idea that has migrated from speculative philosophy into philanthropic strategy, technology ethics and — with increasing self-confidence — into the governance of artificial intelligence. Yet longtermism is also a doctrine defined by a profound temporal dis:connectivity: a simultaneous insistence on connection to a distant future and a structural inability to bridge the gap it invokes. Longtermism holds that the most important feature of our actions today is their impact on the far future, meaning at least millennia, if not aeons. One of its most influential philosophical statements is the ‘case for strong longtermism’, which argues that in the most significant decisions facing agents today, every option that is best overall is best because of its effects on the far future and its benefits there dwarf anything achievable in the near term.[4] The argument rests on several premises. For the current purposes, I will concentrate on only three, leaving aside prerequisite convictions such as the idea that the survival and expansion of humanity over the coming millennia is of universal value or that current suffering and supposed future wellbeing can be compared at all. First, demography: the expected number of future human or human-like beings is astronomically large. Even on conservative assumptions – an Earth-bound civilisation without digital sentience – the number of future people runs into hundreds of trillions. On permissive assumptions involving space colonisation and digital minds, Bostrom estimates lower bounds of 1034 to 1054 subjective life-years to be lived in the future.[5] Second, morality: temporal distance is morally irrelevant – the wellbeing of a person in the far future counts as much as that of a person today. Third, causality: we can meaningfully influence this enormous future today, most importantly by reducing the risk of existential catastrophe. This third premise builds directly on Bostrom’s foundational 2013 paper, which established existential risks, understood as threats to the existence of Earth-originating intelligent life or the destruction of its potential for desirable development – as a morally distinct category requiring absolute priority.[6] His maxipok principle (maximise the probability of an OK outcome, where an OK outcome avoids existential catastrophe), translates this logic into guidance. The implication is stark: ‘If benefiting humanity by increasing existential safety achieves expected good on a scale many orders of magnitude greater than that of alternative contributions, we would do well to focus on this most efficient philanthropy’.[7]

Hari Seldon’s problem

Longtermism thus appears as a radical but rational reorientation of moral priority. It asks us to look past the child who will die tonight of a preventable disease and the community devastated by famine towards a future so remote that it can only be grasped in statistical abstractions. Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series is a science fiction classic from the 1950s, which was recently revived as an Apple TV series. It builds on mathematician Hari Seldon devising psychohistory, a science that treats human civilisation as an aggregate statistical system and predicts the arc of events across millennia.[8] By way of psychohistorical prognosis, Seldon knows that the Galactic Empire will fall and a dark age of 30,000 years will follow, but he also knows that careful intervention can shorten that period to a mere 1000 years. Hence, he founds the Foundation, trusting that the causal machinery of history will continue his plan long after his death.

Fig. 2: Hari Seldon, the fictional prophet of longtermism (Image by Vishchun)

Psychohistory is an exhilarating idea. It is also, as Asimov’s narrative demonstrates, a fantasy. The plan works only because Asimov grants Seldon’s equations predictive power that no real science of history possesses. The Foundation’s plans are repeatedly disrupted by individuals whose actions deviate from the statistical model. The whole apparatus depends on assumptions that collapse the moment they are interrogated: that the future is legible from the present, that causal chains can be traced reliably across millennia, that knowledge of the far future is, in principle, available to us. They make psychohistory more a reductio ad absurdum than a flattering analogy. Yet, longtermism makes precisely these assumptions.

Where the connection breaks

The idea of dis:connectivity challenges binary thinking about global processes. It holds that connections and disconnections – interruptions, detours, absences, resistances – are not opposites but co-constitutive elements of how globalisation works.[9] Applied temporally, the concept draws attention to how the relationship between past, present and future by continuity as well as rupture and the tension between them, by the moments when the thread tears, when projections diverge from occurrences. Longtermism invites exactly this analysis. It asserts powerful causal and moral connections between our present choices and the lives of people centuries hence. But this connective thread is frayed at every joint. The temporal dis:connectivity of longtermism displays many facets, and they compound each other. Hence, longtermism faces a cluster of interlocking objections that collectively undermine its claim to guide present action.

Fig. 3: Continuing a long tradition of imagining the future as woven threads (Image: A Golden Thread by John Mulhuish Strudwick)

The longtermist case rests on calculations that have the air of analytical rigour while resting on speculative foundations. Estimates of existential risk, future population sizes and the value of additional centuries of human existence are multiplied to yield astronomical numbers, yet each variable is extrapolated from limited historical experience and scaled across timescales for which no empirical basis exists. The procedure resembles the Drake equation in its formal elegance as well as its epistemic emptiness. The Drake equation estimates the number of communicating civilisations in the galaxy by multiplying several factors: the rate of star formation, the fraction with planets, the fraction of those capable of supporting life and so on. The result looks like a calculation. But almost every variable is either unknown or inferred from an n=1 sample: the Earth. The equation generates no knowledge; it structures ignorance so that it resembles knowledge. Longtermist arithmetic works in precisely the same way. The probability of existential catastrophe this century, the size of the future population, the causal efficacy of present interventions across millennial timescales — none of these can be grounded in anything more secure than informed speculation. Multiplied together, they produce numbers of compelling precision. But such seeming precision derives from the mathematical operation, not from the underlying speculations. Even granting that present actions can shape the distant future, our ability to predict how degrades rapidly with temporal distance. Drawing on chaos theory, Askell and Neth show that past conditions in complex dynamic systems become ever more irrelevant to remote future states,[10] which means that even an agent who assigns no special priority to the present has strong reasons to focus on near-term consequences, simply because those are the ones she can actually estimate. Thorstad sharpens this point further: the longtermist case that the astronomical value of future lives necessitates (and justifies) immediate action depends on the unsupported assumption that existential risk is currently very high but will soon drop to negligible levels.[11] He argues that if the risk of human extinction persists for a very long time, expected future benefits shrink dramatically, and none of the arguments offered in their support – human wisdom, economic growth, space settlement – proves convincing. There is, finally, a fundamental problem that the longtermist literature largely passes over. Longtermism does not merely claim that future people matter; it claims that we can identify, from our vantage point, what will constitute a good life for them. But our conception of human flourishing is itself historically contingent and continuously evolving. The history of moral thought offers little support for the assumption that the values we hold today will be recognisable, let alone authoritative, across millennia. To shape the far future according to present notions of the good compounds rather than dissolves the problem of dis:connectivity at the heart of the longtermist project. Taken together, these issues reveal a tension inherent in the longtermist project: temporal dis:connectivity in a precise sense. Longtermism insists on connectivity, on the causal and moral thread linking present action to distant futures. The causal connecitivity, however, cannot be validated, and even its most careful proponents acknowledge its deep uncertainty. Not only do we lack information about the future, but the connection longtermism asserts is constituted by the very breaks and absences it cannot acknowledge. The causal chain is frayed; epistemic access is blocked; the moral framework is contested; structural expectations are underdetermined. And yet the longtermist must assert all of these to get the argument off the ground. One might object that uncertainty is no reason to abandon the effort. All consequentialist reasoning involves uncertainty; that is what expected-value calculations are for. But the dis:connectivity leads to structural uncertainty that cannot be reduced by gathering more information, because information becomes less available in principle the further forward we project. And it is asymmetric: the astronomical stakes that longtermism invokes are only compelling to those who accept a specific set of speculative assumptions.

Moral arithmetic and its consequences

These philosophical tensions might remain abstract if longtermism were merely a position in academic ethics. But the moral arithmetic of existential risk, once it acquires institutional momentum, generates consequences that deserve scrutiny. Consider how longtermist logic devalues present life. Compared to longtermism’s hypothetical future, current catastrophes seem statistically irrelevant. Bostrom described the two world wars, AIDS and the Chernobyl disaster as ‘mere ripples on the surface of the great sea of life’ from a cosmic perspective.[12] The political consequences of this stance are worrying. In his dissertation, Nick Beckstead argued that saving lives in poor countries deserves less priority than protecting lives in rich countries because the latter have greater leverage on the long-term future.[13] Toby Ord writes that although it is sometimes difficult to believe in view of the many ‘setbacks and exceptions’, ‘[y]et at the largest scales of human history, where we see not the rise and fall of each empire, but the changing face of human civilisation across the entire globe, the trends toward progress are clear’.[14] Thus, past and present suffering disappears in the noise of the large scale and is overshadowed by the looming future. The implications extend further still. Bostrom’s 2019 paper on the vulnerable world hypothesis argues that guarding civilisation against technological catastrophe through ‘black ball’ technologies (i.e. technologies that make it easy for individuals to build weapons of mass destruction, e.g. bio-engineered viruses and home-made nuclear devices) might require, and thereby implicitly justify, expanding preventive policing and global surveillance.[15] The logic is consistent: if the alternative is existential catastrophe costing 10⁵⁴ life-years, almost any present-day constraint on liberty becomes negotiable. The longtermist framework not merely neglects the present; it casually justifies overriding it. Elizabeth C. Hupfer has shown that this logic is not accidental to extreme longtermism. Her Far-Future Priority Objection demonstrates that even weaker formulations, combined with the effective-altruist framework of importance, tractability and neglectedness, inevitably collapse into prioritising the far future, engendering systemic neglect of near-future people in the most need. In a world of scarce resources, longtermism ‘may result in the global affluent turning their backs on these populations’.[16] Alex McLaughlin, approaching longtermism from political philosophy, identifies a structural tension at the heart of the movement’s politics. Despite presenting itself as above political cleavages, longtermism is underpinned by strong, controversial, ‘elusive and unattractive’ politics.[17] Longtermists invoke political authority and institutions when these serve their agenda, while treating democratic contestation as an obstacle to the long-range thinking they prefer.

When the guardians of the future design the future

The practical influence of longtermist thinking is concentrated in a small network of philosophers, technologists and philanthropists based in Oxford and San Francisco. This community goes beyond theorising about the distant future and actively shapes institutions to govern it.

Fig. 4: The guardians of the future are conveniently the economic elite of the present (Image: Alex Kotliarskyi)

Émile P. Torres and Timnit Gebru offer an incisive characterisation of this network. In a recent paper, they argue that longtermism is in fact the apex of a bundle of overlapping ideologies, which they term TESCREAL: transhumanism, extropianism, singularitarianism, cosmism, rationalism, effective altruism and longtermism. These schools share a common structure: they deploy speculative futures, including civilisational extinction narratives, to justify technology and governance arrangements that concentrate power and sideline present human welfare.[18] On this account, longtermism is an ideological formation more than a philosophical position, one that, by inflating the stakes of the far future to astronomical proportions, justifies almost any present-day sacrifice. Major AI companies – particularly those based in the US – sit at the intersection of these debates. Take Anthropic, the AI company founded by former members of OpenAI. By the standards of AI companies and at the time of writing, Anthropic enjoys a reputation for responsible development. Its stated mission is to ensure that the world safely navigates the transition through transformative AI, framed explicitly in terms of long-run civilisational stakes. The company has published detailed specifications for the values and behaviour of its AI model Claude, known as Claude’s Constitution.[19] The primary author is Amanda Askell, whose philosophical work on longtermism is among the most rigorous and self-critical in that tradition and whose arguments provide some of the most powerful objections to longtermist overreach. That Askell herself is uncertain whether her work constitutes an attack on or a defence of longtermism is telling: it reflects a genuine intellectual honesty rather than a programmatic commitment.[20] Moreover, dedicated effective altruists and longtermists such as William MacAskill and Owen Cotton-Barratt ‘gave detailed feedback or discussion’ on Claude’s Constitution.[21] The resulting document contains recognisably longtermist elements, like the priority assigned to avoiding catastrophic and irreversible outcomes and framing safe AI development as among humanity’s most consequential tasks, but it lacks an equally elaborated counterweight. Also conspicuously absent from Claude’s Constitution is an account of the wellbeing of present people that could morally anchor those long-term priorities. Without such an anchor, the longtermist elements simply elide present-oriented values. The asymmetry is more structural than intentional: catastrophic future risk is named, theorised and operationalised; the claims of those suffering now are not given equivalent weight or conceptual elaboration. This matters because the connection longtermism asserts between present action and distant futures is beyond validation. When the justification for overriding present concerns rests on speculation, the absence of a present-oriented counterweight in the governance of a popular AI system is a gap through which the temporal dis:connectivity at the heart of longtermist reasoning passes, quietly, from philosophical puzzle into practical governance. Whose present interests might be discounted in favour of whose imagined futures? The mosquito-net donor and the child who would have died of malaria are, in this calculus, almost worthless. The AI safety researcher speculating about trillion-person futures is, by the same logic, among the most important humans ever. The asymmetry is not a side effect. It is the point. And it is, on reflection, morally absurd. Hari Seldon’s equations worked because Asimov declared it so. In the real world, the future resists calculation. Rather than a counsel of despair, this is a reason to attend with urgency to the people and the problems in the here and now.
[Published 23.6.2026 
temporal dis:connectivity is a blog series that explores how concepts and experiences of time shape global processes across time and space. In this series, scholars from different disciplines ask what attention to temporality can reveal about globalisation, historical change, and the ways societies imagine the past, present, and future.
For the previous entry in this series on temporal dis:connectivity, click here. To read the introduction to the series, click here.]
[1] Hilary Greaves and William MacAskill, 'The Case for Strong Longtermism', in Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, ed. Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett, and David Thorstad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025). [2] Nick Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention as Global Priority', Global Policy 4, 1 (2013): 19 https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12002. [3] There is an axiological as well as a deontic strand of longtermism. The former claims that in the most important decisions we face today, the effects on the far future are the most important determinant of the value of our options. The latter says that we ought to choose options that are best for the far future. For the sake of comprehensibility, I conflate the two in this piece. [4] Greaves and MacAskill, 'The Case for Strong Longtermism'. [5] Nick Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis', Global Policy 10, no. 4 (2019): 18 https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12718. [6] Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention'. [7] Bostrom, 'Existential Risk Prevention', 19. [8] Isaac Asimov, Foundation (New York: Gnome Press, 1951). [9] Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer, 'Introduction', in Dis:connectivity and Globalisation: Concepts, Terms, Practices, ed. Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci, and Roland Wenzlhuemer (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2025). [10] Amanda Askell and Sven Neth, 'Longtermist Myopia', in Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, ed. Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett, and David Thorstad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025). [11] David Thorstad, 'High Risk, Low Reward: A Challenge to the Astronomical Value of Existential Risk Mitigation', Philosophy & Public Affairs 51, no. 4 (2023) https://doi.org/10.1111/papa.12248. [12] Nick Bostrom, 'Existential Risks: Analyzing Human Extinction Scenarios and Related Hazards', Journal of Evolution and Technology 9, no. 1 (2002): 4. [13] Nick Beckstead, 'On the Overwhelming Importance of Shaping the Far Future' (PhD Dissertation, Rutgers, 2013), 11; Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. [14] Toby Ord, The Precipice: Existential Risk and the Future of Humanity (New York: Hachette Books, 2020), 18. [15] Bostrom, 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. [16] Elizabeth Hupfer, 'From Bednets to Rocket Ships: Efficiency in the Long-Term and Neglect for the Present', Journal of Applied Philosophy 42, no. 2 (2025): 1193 https://doi.org/10.1111/japp.70014. [17] Alex McLaughlin, 'Visionaries and Crackpots, Maniacs and Saints: Existential Risk and the Politics of Longtermism', Ratio: An international journal of analytic philosophy 38, no. 4 (2025): 273 https://doi.org/10.1111/rati.12449. [18] Timnit Gebru and Émile Torres, 'The TESCREAL bundle: Eugenics and the promise of utopia through artificial general intelligence', First Monday 29, no. 4 (2024) https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v29i4.13636. [19] Anthropic, 'Claude's Constitution: Our vision for Claude's character', 2025, accessed 25 March 2026, https://www.anthropic.com/constitution. [20] Askell and Neth, 'Longtermist Myopia', 296. [21] Anthropic, 'Claude's Constitution'.

bibliography

'Claude's Constitution: Our vision for Claude's character'. 2025, accessed 25 March 2026, https://www.anthropic.com/constitution. Asimov, Isaac. Foundation. New York: Gnome Press, 1951. Askell, Amanda and Sven Neth. 'Longtermist Myopia'. In Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, edited by Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett and David Thorstad,  Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025. Balme, Christopher, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer. 'Introduction'. In Dis:connectivity and Globalisation: Concepts, Terms, Practices, edited by Christopher Balme, Burcu Dogramaci and Roland Wenzlhuemer,  Berlin: De Gruyter, 2025. Beckstead, Nick. 'On the Overwhelming Importance of Shaping the Far Future'. PhD Dissertation, Rutgers, 2013. Bostrom, Nick. 'Existential Risk Prevention as Global Priority'. Global Policy 4, 1 (2013): 15-31. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12002. ———. 'Existential Risks: Analyzing Human Extinction Scenarios and Related Hazards'. Journal of Evolution and Technology 9, no. 1 (2002). ———. 'The Vulnerable World Hypothesis'. Global Policy 10, no. 4 (2019): 455-76. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/1758-5899.12718. Gebru, Timnit and Émile Torres. 'The TESCREAL bundle: Eugenics and the promise of utopia through artificial general intelligence'. First Monday 29, no. 4 (2024). https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v29i4.13636. Greaves, Hilary and William MacAskill. 'The Case for Strong Longtermism'. In Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future, edited by Hilary Greaves, Jacob Barrett and David Thorstad,  Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2025. Hupfer, Elizabeth. 'From Bednets to Rocket Ships: Efficiency in the Long-Term and Neglect for the Present'. Journal of Applied Philosophy 42, no. 2 (2025): 1190-209. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/japp.70014. McLaughlin, Alex. 'Visionaries and Crackpots, Maniacs and Saints: Existential Risk and the Politics of Longtermism'. Ratio: An international journal of analytic philosophy 38, no. 4 (2025): 268-78. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/rati.12449. Ord, Toby. The Precipice: Existential Risk and the Future of Humanity. New York: Hachette Books, 2020. Thorstad, David. 'High Risk, Low Reward: A Challenge to the Astronomical Value of Existential Risk Mitigation'. Philosophy & Public Affairs 51, no. 4 (2023): 373-412. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1111/papa.12248. Continue Reading