Is There Anybody Out There?
Even though the number of users online has steadily increased over the years, conversations have grown increasingly stilted and subdued. This is the Fermi’s Paradox of the online world - even though there are so many of us are online we chose to keep our heads down, knowing that if we don’t, we run the risk of becoming a target for trolls.
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Sometimes, hoping for civil engagement on the internet is like shouting into space. Every attempt at communication draws responses that feel alien — like unfamiliar aggressors attacking us in an unknown language.
Fermi’s Paradox
One day in 1950, Enrico Fermi went out for lunch with his colleagues at the Los Alamos National Laboratory. No one recalls exactly how it happened, but the conversation turned to then-recent reports about unidentified flying objects (UFOs) and the possibility of extraterrestrial life. All of a sudden, Fermi asked, “Where is everybody?” This simple question, a statistical reflection on the likely existence of alien civilizations, is a profound one and has since come to be called ‘Fermi’s Paradox.’
There are an estimated 100-400 billion stars in the Milky Way and over 100 billion such galaxies in the observable universe. Statistically, at least one (if not millions) of galaxies should contain within them planets capable of supporting life. Why, then, is it that we have yet to see signs of extra-terrestrial life? If Earth is not the only habitable planet on which life could have evolved, where, as Fermi so succinctly asked, is everyone else?
Many attempted to answer this question. Among the more interesting explanations is the Dark Forest theory, proposed by Chinese science fiction author Cixin Liu in his ‘Three-Body Problem’ trilogy. To Liu, the universe is like a dark forest in which advanced civilizations like ours lurk—armed, tense and silent—wary of revealing their position for fear of attracting attention. Since there is no way for any of us to reliably judge the intention of any other civilization we might come across, the moment we detect the existence of another, the safest strategy would be to attack and destroy it. If we do not, it might do the same to us.
This is probably why advanced civilizations have not made their presence felt. They know better than to send out even the slightest hint of their location, given that it could invite pre-emptive destruction from another even more powerful civilization that might be listening for just such signs of life. All of which is to say that the cosmos is most likely far from empty. Instead, it is far more likely to be a dark forest in which many different intelligent life forms operate, all staying intentionally silent to avoid being spotted and becoming a target.
A Dark Forest Online
Nobody would call the internet a dark forest. When I first got online, the raucous cacophony of new ideas and unbridled conversation was invigorating. Yet, as much as I enjoyed these interactions, I rapidly realized that I had to learn how to navigate these online spaces. In a medium where it is impossible to detect the subtle signals that guide our in-person conversations, we need new rules of engagement. Everyone had to learn (and follow) an entirely new social grammar to avoid misunderstandings—a new etiquette that needed universal adoption to avoid causing and taking offence. Without this, we could not hope to sustain faceless and extended online interactions with each other.
The 2000s saw a sudden explosion of blogs, forums and social media platforms—all of which were trying to reshape the online space. Thanks to their efforts, the internet graduated from being just a niche interest into a mass phenomenon. In order to capture more eyeballs and a greater share of our attention, these new platforms re-designed themselves to reward viral content. ‘Shock, awe and offend’ underpin this playbook and algorithmic feeds not only amplify content but also deliver it in a highly targeted fashion to those most likely to be enthralled, outraged and excited by it. This has reached a point where our automated moderation systems are no match for the volume of hate speech and coordinated trolling that has over-run efforts to hold them in check.
Many online interactions today are vicious and unnecessarily combative. The mildest comment could attract trolls who are lying in wait, ready to launch personal attacks or bait us into pointless arguments. All of this sends out a powerful message—if you engage online, you proceed at your own peril. Either refrain from talking about certain things online or else be willing to deal with online harassment or worse. If we don’t actively constrain our behaviour, carefully picking what to talk about and what not to, we must be prepared to be dragged down into the sewer.
In his 1970 paper, ‘Market for Lemons,’ George Akerlof described how bad products drive out the good. Similarly, online toxicity creates a vicious cycle of adverse selection. Thoughtful voices withdraw into private groups to avoid abuse and doxxing, leaving behind increasingly hostile spaces that have been emptied of participants. Our virtual town halls, once alive with diverse viewpoints, have fallen silent—save for the voices of the loudest and most aggressive.
Were Fermi among us today, he might be moved to ask, “Where is everybody on the internet?” But even teenagers know that though we are all very much around, almost all of us have opted to keep our heads down out of our own instinct for self-preservation.
Our approach to online interaction has created an online ‘dark forest.’ Just as an interplanetary species may want to stay below the radar, we now avoid doing anything that might call unnecessary attention to ourselves on the internet.
But, ever the optimist, dare I ask: “Is there anybody out there?”
