Today, Forethought and I are releasing an essay series called Better Futures, here.[1] It’s been something like eight years in the making, so I’m pretty happy it’s finally out! It asks: when looking to the future, should we focus on surviving, or on flourishing? In practice at least, future-oriented altruists tend to focus on ensuring we survive (or are not permanently disempowered by some valueless AIs). But maybe we should focus on future flourishing, instead.  Why?  Well, even if we survive, we probably just get a future that’s a small fraction as good as it could have been. We could, instead, try to help guide society to be on track to a truly wonderful future.    That is, I think there’s more at stake when it comes to flourishing than when it comes to survival. So maybe that should be our main focus. The whole essay series is out today. But I’ll post summaries of each essay over the course of the next couple of weeks. And the first episode of Forethought’s video podcast is on the topic, and out now, too. The first essay is Introducing Better Futures: along with the supplement, it gives the basic case for focusing on trying to make the future wonderful, rather than just ensuring we get any ok future at all. It’s based on a simple two-factor model: that the value of the future is the product of our chance of “Surviving” and of the value of the future, if we do Survive, i.e. our “Flourishing”.  (“not-Surviving”, here, means anything that locks us into a near-0 value future in the near-term: extinction from a bio-catastrophe counts but if valueless superintelligence disempowers us without causing human extinction, that counts, too. I think this is how “existential catastrophe” is often used in practice.) The key thought is: maybe we’re closer to the “ceiling” on Survival than we are to the “ceiling” of Flourishing.  Most people (though not everyone) thinks we’re much more likely than not to Survive this century.  Metaculus puts *extinction* risk at about 4

Introduction Although there has been an increase over the last few years in EA work for aquatic animals, there are still significant gaps and challenges in this space. We believe there is a misconception that the existence of new organisations means that the area is 'covered'.  Our purpose in this post is to highlight the gaps and challenges in aquatic animal welfare. We argue that an ecosystem of multiple charities and approaches in the space is needed (including overlapping work on species, countries, and/or interventions). We will also explore some of the challenges that currently hinder the development of this field and offer recommendations within the 'white space' of aquatic animal welfare. Our goal is to initiate a dialogue that will lead to more robust and varied approaches. Why we need more groups working in the aquatic animal space There are not that many people working in this space Animal welfare programs have traditionally been focused on terrestrial species. However, recent years have witnessed a burgeoning interest in aquatic animal welfare within the Effective Altruism community. This could raise the question as to whether we need more charities focusing on aquatic animals, to which we want to argue that we do. Aquatic animals encompass a wide range of species from fish to crustaceans, and are subjects of increasing concern in welfare discussions. Initiatives by various organisations, including our own (Fish Welfare Initiative and Shrimp Welfare Project), have started to address their needs. However, these efforts represent only the tip of the iceberg.  The depth and breadth of aquatic animal welfare are vast, and current interventions barely scratch the surface. For example, while there is growing awareness and some actions by various charities towards the welfare of farmed fishes, the welfare needs and work on invertebrates like shrimps are still in nascent stages. Situations are vastly different between regions, species, and intervention

There are some moments of your life when the reality of suffering really hits home. Visiting desperately poor parts of the world for the first time. Discovering what factory farming actually looks like after a childhood surrounded by relatively idyllic rural farming. Realising too late that you shouldn’t have clicked on that video of someone experiencing a cluster headache. Or, more unexpectedly, having a baby. One of 10^20 Birth Stories This Year With my relaxed and glowing pregnant wife in her 34th week, I expect things to go smoothly. There have been a few warning signs: some slightly anomalous results in the early tests, the baby in breech position, and some bleeding. But everything still seems to be going relatively well. Then, suddenly, while walking on an idyllic French seafront, she says:  "I think my waters have broken".  "Really? It’s probably nothing, let’s just check whether that’s normal."  After a leisurely walk home, and a crash course on premature membrane rupture, we realise that, yes, her waters have definitely broken. We’re about to be among the 7–8% of parents who’ll have a premature baby. We call the hospital. They tell us to come in immediately. One slightly awkward bus journey later, and we’re at the maternity ward. No contractions yet, but the doctors tell us that they might start over the next few days. If they don’t come within the week, they’ll induce labour. They prepare a room, and ask how we want to do this, nudging towards a caesarean. We agree and I head home to prepare things for an imminent arrival. At 7am the next morning, the phone rings: she’s having the baby. With no buses running, I sprint to the hospital, take a wrong turn, and rather heroically scale a three-metre wall to avoid a detour. Bursting through the hospital wards, smelling distinctly of sweat, I find my wife there, in all green and a mesh hat, looking like a nervous child. We’re allowed to exchange an awkward “good luck” with everyone else watching. Hospita