Of all the socio-economic systems to emerge throughout human history, capitalism has proven the most successful, at least in terms of sustaining itself. It has consolidated unprecedented levels of wealth and power in the defense of its continued existence, and vanquished any rival that dare challenged it.
I would go so far as to say that any attempt to dislodge capitalism at anything more than a strictly local level is doomed to fail (and perhaps not even then). Whether it be by co-opting movements, marginalizing them into irrelevance, or simply employing fascist violence to annihilate them, the forces of capital will never permit their usurpation.
I should be clear here that I am speaking of capitalism as a system, but not one that is intelligent or conscious. Capitalism can be said to make decisions, but in the way that an ant nest does–through individuals interacting with each other according to per-determined rules constrained by the overall nature of the system in which they live. CEOs do not necessarily individually decide that they’re going to crush or marginalize anti-capitalism; they will simply do what they understand is best for the interest of themselves and their companies within the context of free market capitalism. Any CEO who does not do so would be not fulfilling their fiduciary duty (which is legally mandated!) and removed and replaced with one who did; any company that failed to do this would be out-competed by companies that did. Such are the rules of the capitalist system, and in this way, the system is maintained in perpetuity.
It may seem like I am removing the human element from the decisions capitalism makes, and this impression is correct: I believe that capitalism has attained sufficient complexity that humanity no longer has control over it. Ants do not control the ant nest, after all–rather, the superorganism that is the nest controls the ants.
This is particularly true given the development of machine learning algorithms and other forms of automation for the use of capital. The financial industry has enthusiastically embraced algorithmic trading, for example, and other industries are following suit. As workers demand higher wages than capitalism is willing to permit, and the planet grows less hospitable for humans, I expect this trend will accelerate. Doing so is in capitalism’s best interest, as it allow it to effectively outlive the capitalists who created and enabled it. It ensures that, long after the last shareholder has died of heat exhaustion, disease, or starvation, automated factories will continue to churn out goods designed by automated market research algorithms, built from raw materials extracted by automated mines and farms, transported by automated trucks, and purchased by automated bargain-hunting buying algorithms, all for the ostensible benefit of those same long-dead shareholders.
In allowing capitalism to develop the way it has in the 21st century, we have, for all intents and purposes, created a dark god–beyond human control (and, increasingly, comprehension), immortal, unkillable, and uncaring.
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Now, let us suppose that capitalism, or a self-reinforcing extractive system like it, has some degree of adaptivity incorporated into it. Sooner or later, it would begin to exhaust the easily available resources on its home planet.
It is not inconceivable to think a system a little more advanced than our own might turn skyward. This would also significantly boost its longevity, particularly if combined with some form of self-replication. Statistically, the odds of such a system emerging may be individually low, but it would be enormously successful if it did occur, and, over long periods of time, would no doubt spread out into the stars.
This brings up a provocative solution to the Fermi paradox. It is possible that the reason life–or intelligent, detectable life, at any rate–seems scarce in the universe is because most star systems have already been stripped of their resources by automated factory bots, churning out uncountable numbers of iPhone-equivalents for the benefit of a million-years-dead alien Jeff Bezos. The stars may teem with ever-ravenous dark gods.
Furthermore, it may also incentivize intelligent species to conceal their presence, for fear of attracting the attention of these voracious production systems. The most dangerous thing in the dark forest may not, in fact, be another hunter, but the forager ant.
The one saving grace of this situation is that, again, these systems are not intelligent–large portions of their decision-making may very well be stochastic. This may also explain why they’re not here already–they simply missed us and passed us by in the vastness of space.
How would we evaluate this dark-god hypothesis? We need to consider what characteristics of resource-depleted star systems might be detectable remotely, particularly keeping in mind that the resource extraction operation could have come and went millions of years ago. Swarms of construction satellites that have since pulverized each other into dust could also leave signatures in the light curve of their host stars. Further research is required.
Lastly, the dark god hypothesis also implies that, if we are to be good ‘cosmic citizens’ and prevent the emergence of yet another dangerous devouring swarm, it may be in our interest to destructively annihilate our species and civilization before capitalism can migrate into space. This would also have the benefit of providing us all a far more quicker and merciful death than what we will inevitably suffer under capitalism-induced ecological collapse and climate disruption. I, personally, suggest either a massive nuclear bombardment of population centers, or directing a large asteroid into a colliding orbit with Earth.
Tessa Fisher 