For me, being a good ancestor is about planting the right seeds and ensuring they grow in the best environment. In our current world, where so much feels distorted, I see Effective Altruism as tending to the branches: addressing urgent needs and correcting immediate harms. That work is vital — we can’t ignore suffering right in front of us.
But if we only tend the branches and never touch the roots, the cycle will continue. Problems will keep sprouting in new forms, because the deeper cause — human nature itself — hasn’t been addressed. Just like in a garden, if we plant weeds, it doesn’t matter how often we pull them out; they’ll keep returning and choking what could have flourished.
To me, being a good ancestor means not only solving today’s crises, but also cultivating the soil — reshaping the roots of who we are — so that future generations inherit a garden where goodness can grow more naturally.
I think survival alone cannot be our highest priority. History shows that when “survival” is pursued narrowly — the survival of one race, one religion, one nation, or one class — it becomes the justification for atrocities. Hitler sought the survival of the Aryan race; countless religious wars were fought for the survival of the “true faith”; even today, leaders justify violence as necessary for national survival. In capitalism too, “survival of the fittest” has been invoked to excuse exploitation.
So the solution isn’t survival per se, but the way we define it. If survival means selective survival — my group at the expense of yours — then it only deepens conflict and hastens collective ruin. What we need is a shift in how we understand ourselves: not as isolated competitors, but as interdependent beings sharing one fragile system.
For me, the deeper task is re-education — not in a religious sense, but in a practical and existential one. We need to recognize the “operating system” of human nature: that we are driven by pleasures and desires, often unconsciously, like puppets. Unless we learn to rise above this ego-driven programming, no amount of technology, charity, or political reform will truly change our trajectory.
True survival must mean collective survival. That requires awakening to our interconnectedness and building unity, not just as a moral preference but as the only practical way forward.
I found this piece on moral catastrophe really insightful. One thought I’d add is that when we look across history, it seems every generation has been blinded not just by particular false beliefs, but by something deeper — our own egoistic nature. In Kabbalistic terms, this is sometimes described as the “will to receive for oneself.”
What strikes me is that this “operating system” quietly drives so many of our choices, even in causes we think of as altruistic. If we don’t become aware of it, we risk repeating the same pattern: creating new systems, norms, or technologies that look like progress, but still end up serving ego-driven ends.
So while I agree with the call for more moral research and flexibility, I also wonder whether a key part of avoiding future catastrophes is learning to recognize and work with this underlying egoism. Otherwise, we might just keep patching symptoms without ever debugging the core code.
It’s not only on the global level that inequality has deepened—with rich countries becoming richer while poorer ones fall behind. The same dynamic plays out within domestic economies: the wealthy grow wealthier while the poor struggle more.
This isn’t just an economic issue, but a reflection of human nature—the tendency that the more one has, the more one desires. Unless we recognize that we are deeply interconnected, this cycle will continue. Like a butterfly effect, these imbalances don’t just impact individuals today, but ripple across societies and future generations.
For me, being a good ancestor is about planting the right seeds and ensuring they grow in the best environment. In our current world, where so much feels distorted, I see Effective Altruism as tending to the branches: addressing urgent needs and correcting immediate harms. That work is vital — we can’t ignore suffering right in front of us.
But if we only tend the branches and never touch the roots, the cycle will continue. Problems will keep sprouting in new forms, because the deeper cause — human nature itself — hasn’t been addressed. Just like in a garden, if we plant weeds, it doesn’t matter how often we pull them out; they’ll keep returning and choking what could have flourished.
To me, being a good ancestor means not only solving today’s crises, but also cultivating the soil — reshaping the roots of who we are — so that future generations inherit a garden where goodness can grow more naturally.
I think survival alone cannot be our highest priority. History shows that when “survival” is pursued narrowly — the survival of one race, one religion, one nation, or one class — it becomes the justification for atrocities. Hitler sought the survival of the Aryan race; countless religious wars were fought for the survival of the “true faith”; even today, leaders justify violence as necessary for national survival. In capitalism too, “survival of the fittest” has been invoked to excuse exploitation.
So the solution isn’t survival per se, but the way we define it. If survival means selective survival — my group at the expense of yours — then it only deepens conflict and hastens collective ruin. What we need is a shift in how we understand ourselves: not as isolated competitors, but as interdependent beings sharing one fragile system.
For me, the deeper task is re-education — not in a religious sense, but in a practical and existential one. We need to recognize the “operating system” of human nature: that we are driven by pleasures and desires, often unconsciously, like puppets. Unless we learn to rise above this ego-driven programming, no amount of technology, charity, or political reform will truly change our trajectory.
True survival must mean collective survival. That requires awakening to our interconnectedness and building unity, not just as a moral preference but as the only practical way forward.
I found this piece on moral catastrophe really insightful. One thought I’d add is that when we look across history, it seems every generation has been blinded not just by particular false beliefs, but by something deeper — our own egoistic nature. In Kabbalistic terms, this is sometimes described as the “will to receive for oneself.”
What strikes me is that this “operating system” quietly drives so many of our choices, even in causes we think of as altruistic. If we don’t become aware of it, we risk repeating the same pattern: creating new systems, norms, or technologies that look like progress, but still end up serving ego-driven ends.
So while I agree with the call for more moral research and flexibility, I also wonder whether a key part of avoiding future catastrophes is learning to recognize and work with this underlying egoism. Otherwise, we might just keep patching symptoms without ever debugging the core code.
It’s not only on the global level that inequality has deepened—with rich countries becoming richer while poorer ones fall behind. The same dynamic plays out within domestic economies: the wealthy grow wealthier while the poor struggle more.
This isn’t just an economic issue, but a reflection of human nature—the tendency that the more one has, the more one desires. Unless we recognize that we are deeply interconnected, this cycle will continue. Like a butterfly effect, these imbalances don’t just impact individuals today, but ripple across societies and future generations.
we all have our own bias - our own unique lens to see things. the only way we can transcend this is self awareness, knowing our biases and being open.