I first read the Epic of Gilgamesh in campus and thought, “cool, ancient dude fights monsters.” But now, years later after a burnout, trying to do good in the world I reread it and it hit so differently.

Gilgamesh wasn’t just scared of death he was scared of insignificance. Of trying really hard and it still not mattering. Sound familiar?

That’s the part that resonates deeply with me in EA. Whether I’m donating, researching, working on a cause area there’s always this quiet background voice:

“What if none of this matters?”
“What if I’m wrong?”
“What if it’s not enough?”

But I take comfort in how Gilgamesh ended his journey. He didn’t solve death. He didn’t have perfect information. He just built something that helped others.

Maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s impact.

Would love to hear how you all think about this kind of emotional side of doing good. Do you wrestle with that same existential doubt? Or do you lean into it?

I've recently been learning about Nick Laing's impactful work and, as a Ugandan newly introduced to Effective Altruism (EA), I'm gaining a deeper appreciation for its principles. However, I've noticed that the rigorous frameworks often employed by larger organizations can sometimes be based on inadequate or overly academic data, typically derived from peer-reviewed journals. Such information, although scientifically credible, often prioritizes the interests of journals and reviewers rather than fully capturing the real on-the-ground contexts. This approach frequently leads to an idealistic rather than realistic representation of local situations, reducing the effectiveness of funded projects. Furthermore, there tends to be a bias towards global contexts, which may attract more attention but overlook critical local nuances. As a result, the interventions supported can sometimes become disconnected from practical realities, diminishing their applicability and effectiveness on the ground. I would greatly appreciate insights or suggestions on how we might bridge this gap and ensure our frameworks and strategies more accurately reflect and respond to local needs.

this great and I'm eager to connect with and learn from those who've been part of this community for a longer time. While interacting with LLMs has been helpful, I've noticed that responses sometimes feel generic or disconnected from practical realities. Insights from experienced community members who offer fresh perspectives grounded in real-world contexts are incredibly valuable. Such contributions greatly enhance the relevance and effectiveness of our ideas, making them more achievable and better tailored to the local environments of the beneficiaries we aim to support. I'd greatly appreciate any practical advice, experiences, or suggestions you might share. Thank you! 

Thanks, Cullen 

I really appreciate this perspective. The idea that EA is a question rather than an ideology really resonates, especially when thinking about the diversity of approaches within the movement. It’s reassuring to know that many of these debates about long termism, AI safety, and earning-to-give aren’t settled, but rather ongoing discussions that reflect different ways of reasoning about impact. Coming from a background in fish welfare and food systems in Uganda, I see similar tensions how do we balance immediate suffering with long-term change? How do we integrate global priorities with local realities? And how do we ensure that interventions remain relevant in the face of political and economic uncertainty? It’s exciting to engage with a community that embraces these complexities, and I look forward to thinking through these questions alongside others who share the goal of doing the most good. THIS IS SURELY THE MOST GOOD. 

I get that AI could reshape everything, but does that mean we should deprioritize issues like factory farming, poverty, or malaria problems causing real suffering right now? AI isn’t inherently good or bad; it depends on how humans use it. If anything, shouldn’t we be asking how AI can support existing EA causes rather than assuming everything else becomes irrelevant? Feels like we might be overcorrecting here.

The Legacy of Njalira Kassim, A Good Ancestor

In the vast, rolling plateaus of Eastern Uganda, where the morning mist clings to the golden rice fields and the rivers hum with life, the name Njalira Kassim is spoken with deep respect. He was more than just a man; he was a visionary, a guide, and a builder of a future he knew he would never see. But his legacy? That would live on forever.

Njalira Kassim my great-grandfather  was the man who brought Islam to our village, not just as a religion, but as a path to morality, discipline, and unity. In a time when conflicts brewed over simple disputes, and people lost their way in the absence of strong values, he stood firm, teaching that true strength lay in kindness, honesty, and faith. Under the shade of an ancient fig tree, he gathered the community and spoke of compassion, justice, and humility. His words took root, and over time, they transformed the very fabric of our village.

But his wisdom stretched far beyond faith. He saw the land for what it was a gift, not just for his time, but for generations yet to come. The vast swamps that now nourish our rice fields might have been lost if not for his foresight. He worked tirelessly to protect them, ensuring that the people who relied on them would always have food, stability, and dignity. Today, when I walk through those same green paddies, I know they are more than just fields; they are his enduring promise to us.

He believed in the power of the soil and the hands that tilled it. “The land will never betray you if you respect it,” he would say, urging the community to embrace farming as a way of life. And they listened. To this day, agriculture remains the backbone of our village’s economy, just as he envisioned. He gave people a purpose, a livelihood, and most importantly, a future they could build with their own hands.

As I walk through the village, I feel the sensation of dazzling hues of birds and towering trees swaying in the breeze, whispering reminders of the great name I carry and adore Njalira Kassim. His spirit lingers in the rustling leaves, in the songs of the birds that welcome each new dawn, and in the fields that stretch endlessly, still feeding the generations he never met.

To be a good ancestor, like my great-grandfather, is to think beyond oneself to plant trees under whose shade we may never sit, to shape a world that is kinder, fairer, and more sustainable for those who follow. He lived with foresight, knowing that the choices he made would echo through time. He valued knowledge and wisdom, ensuring that his people were equipped not just to survive, but to thrive. He led with humility, understanding that true leadership is found in service, not power.

Even now, as I stand beneath the same sky he once did, I hope that one day, I too will leave behind something that matters. That I will not only be remembered for what I achieved but for what I gave to those who come after me.

Like Njalira Kassim, I, too, hope to be a good ancestor.

I get where Toby Ord is coming from when he says humanity is standing at “the precipice.” It’s a powerful way to frame the moment we’re in facing climate change (Global warming), nuclear threats, AI risks, and everything in between. But I can’t help but feel that every generation has probably felt this way to some degree with threats somehow relative to the abilities of humanity then. 

Think about it if you were living through the Black Death, you might have thought the world was ending. During the Cold War, with nuclear missiles pointed in all directions, people genuinely believed civilization could be wiped out at any moment. And yet, here we are. Genuinely found ways to navigate through and mitigate the risks then and here we are. 

That’s not to say we should ignore the risks. Technology is evolving fast, and the stakes are higher in some ways. But we also have more knowledge, better tools, and a greater ability to cooperate than ever before. Maybe the real challenge isn’t just avoiding catastrophe but figuring out how to keep moving forward in a way that protects our future.