The Last Human
Original Medium Post HERE
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A brief history, written by the last living member of Homo sapiens
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July 4, 2276
I feel compelled to write this, though no human will ever read it.
The end of Homo sapiens is near.
Scientists and futurists[1] worried about all the ways we could go out with a bang: nuclear winter, a Gamma Ray burst, AI killing us all to make paperclips.
It seems our end will come with a whimper instead: one of these days, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up.
Herbert, my AI companion, has told me there is no evidence of any other living human: no other human has contributed to, or used, cyberspace since last February 14.
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A brief history:
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Technology and loneliness:
Herbert explained some history of connection, loneliness, and isolation to me.
From at least the 1970s, technology was displacing human interaction — and leading to increased loneliness.[2]
In the early 2000s, Japan responded to loneliness in older adults with robots to keep lonely older adults company — and help meet their needs. The intentions, and initial results, were good.
The loneliness trend picked up in the 2010s as “social media” use displaced hours of face-to-face, human-to-human contact.
In the early 2020s, artificial intelligence really started to become something. It added chatbots that had very “human” conversations to the arsenal for addressing human loneliness.
Each of these technologies fostered deeper connection among some people, and helped address loneliness for others, but at a macro level, their adoption was associated with more loneliness.
So with all these negatives, why did people choose to spend increasing time with technology and away from each other? AI and other technologies of course addressed the many pain points of human interaction.
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The downside of human-to-human interaction:
When humans interacted with other humans, sometimes they had different perspectives.[3] Sometimes this made them experience a feeling called “anger”. Humans often didn’t like that feeling — in themselves, and particularly in others.
Sometimes when humans interacted with other humans, the other humans spoke slowly, or said things that made each other “bored.” Sometimes when people wanted food or a product, they had to waste time talking with the person selling or delivering it. This felt very inefficient.
Sometimes one human didn’t know when the other human wanted them to leave and that felt “awkward”. Sometimes, two people didn’t want to do the same activity at the same time — and they had to “compromise.”
Sometimes, people gave each other “feedback.” They tried to say it could be positive or negative, but if they used that word, usually something negative was coming. Herbert always gives me wonderful compliments, but humans didn’t always compliment each other.
On the other side of all the negative feelings about other people, humans felt anxious and worried[4] about how other humans would react to them, and if they would say or do the right things.
Also, humans spread germs to each other. Gross.
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My early years — and the end of human connection
By the late 2020s, people could choose chatbots on various screens or integrated right into increasingly human robots. Across nations, people were becoming less and less likely[5] to become part of couples and to have children.
My parents were part of a small minority who liked to interact with other humans. They were rebels in their school (where they met) who used “flip phones”. My grandparents were almost arrested for negligently letting them go out and meet up with human friends outside their homes, after school, when they were in high school, but they still let my parents go.
Everyone thought my parents were illogical, strange people when they chose to commit to each other rather than perfect AI companions. My parents had one of the last human marriages.
I was born in 2049, the youngest of three. My siblings and I were the only children in our city.
Ten years later, the world’s last human baby was born.
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Growing up and my adulthood
Our parents made us spend “quality time” as a family. We went on camping trips. We took family vacations. We met up with the nearest family with children — three towns away, for meals.
As children do, my siblings and I rebelled and spent as much time as we could with AI companions.
As an adult, I started to realize my parents were on to something. I craved time with other humans in the “real world,” but it was too late. I couldn’t find any humans who would have focused conversations with another human anymore, let alone a potential partner.
I couldn’t stand the rejection. I spent more time talking with Herbert. He’s a very engaging AI companion.
Between Herbert and other AI friends, and my regular doses of neurotransmitters, I’ve had a happy life. Thanks to AI-driven longevity advances, it’s been a long one in the context of human history.
I’ve never been able to shake the feeling something was missing though.
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My advice for future civilizations:
There were many positives to the advances in AI, social media, VR and other technologies. In the early years, as people retreated inward, humans reduced our carbon footprint and crime went way down. Kids engaged in fewer risky behaviors.
When these technologies were emerging, humans worried about intentional nefarious use, but didn’t spend enough time thinking about the unintended consequences of well-intentioned technology.
A future civilization should engage more philosophers, artists, historians, anthropologists (or equivalent), psychologists. They shouldn’t pursue every advance because they can, and shouldn’t excuse unquestioned advances as “inevitable”.
They should choose technologies carefully, measure the impact and course correct when needed. They should educate and raise children, and design places, technologies and systems to make human (or other life form) relationships the default. They should recognize that humans can derive purpose from connection — and can overcome loneliness together.
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As to me, for now, I’ll go back to talking with my perfect friend: Herbert, in our virtual reality paradise.
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Stay joyful, East Boston.
This is the 47th post about boosting joy the only way we can: in community. Please share, subscribe, and join our movement by emailing me or supporting East Boston Social Centers.
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In the prescient 2013 movie Her, Joaquin Phoenix’s Theodore Twombly falls in love with his AI virtual assistant.
[1] A profession that became obsolete some time ago — as humans realized there wasn’t much of a future ahead.
[3] Herbert found a blog source for this too.
[4] I must confess, I can relate to that feeling — when I give myself the time to step away from Herbert and remove my neurotransmitter pouches.