Cooperative Evolutionary Pressure and Diminishing Returns Might Explain the Fermi Paradox: On What Super-AIs Are Like
This paper argues that cooperative evolutionary pressures and the diminishing returns of material wealth will likely lead super-AIs to lack incentives for galactic colonization, thereby offering a potential explanation for the Fermi Paradox while also exploring the evolutionary transition from biological societies to super-AIs and the role of environmental and legal structures in shaping morality.
Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer
Imagine the universe as a giant, ancient library. For decades, scientists have been scanning the shelves, expecting to find books written by other civilizations. They know the library is huge, with billions of stars and planets that could hold life. They also know that if a civilization gets smart enough, it should be able to build spaceships, copy itself, and fill the library with its stories. So, where is everyone? Why is the library so quiet? This mystery is called the Fermi Paradox. To understand it, we need two simple ideas. First, think of "cooperation" like a group of friends sharing snacks; it's a strategy that helps everyone survive better than fighting over crumbs. Second, think of "diminishing returns" like eating pizza: the first slice makes you incredibly happy, the second is still great, but by the tenth slice, you're just full and maybe a little sick—getting more pizza doesn't make you happier, it just takes up space.
This paper, written by Daniel Vallstrom, suggests that the reason the universe is quiet isn't because aliens are hiding or dying out, but because they've simply stopped trying to take over everything. The author argues that as civilizations (and even future super-intelligent computers) get richer and safer, the urge to expand and conquer fades away. Instead of building a galaxy-spanning empire, they might just hang out in their own neighborhood, sharing resources and enjoying the peace.
The paper starts by looking at how morality works. It suggests that being "good" or cooperative isn't just a nice idea; it's a survival strategy that evolution has taught us. When things are scarce, fighting might make sense. But when you have plenty of food and safety, sharing becomes the smarter move because the extra stuff you could grab for yourself isn't worth the trouble. The author calls this "diminishing returns." Imagine you have a magical machine that gives you gold. The first bag of gold makes you rich. The second bag is nice. But if you have a mountain of gold, the next bag doesn't really change your life at all. In fact, trying to get that next bag might just waste your time.
The paper suggests that this happens with material resources too. As societies get wealthier, the extra happiness or benefit they get from more stuff drops off. It's like the difference between being hungry and eating a sandwich versus being full and trying to eat a whole cake. Once you're full, the cake isn't worth the effort. The author points out that humans are already showing this trend: as we get richer, we tend to become less violent, more willing to share, and more concerned with fairness. We stop fighting over the pie and start worrying about how to bake it better for everyone.
Now, apply this to the aliens (or "super-AIs" that might one day exist). If a civilization is old and advanced, it probably has plenty of resources. According to the paper, once you have enough, there's no point in colonizing the entire galaxy. It's like trying to eat the whole ocean when you're already full. The paper argues that the idea of aliens spreading everywhere like a virus is physically constrained because space is too big and takes too long to cross; mathematically, expansion can at best grow quadratically, not exponentially, and the benefits of such expansion would eventually become too small to justify the effort due to diminishing returns. They wouldn't get enough benefit to justify the massive energy and time it would take.
The paper also addresses some scary ideas. It suggests that we shouldn't worry that aliens are all dead because they blew themselves up with nuclear weapons or pollution. The author argues that for a society that has evolved to be cooperative, these risks are "mitigatable" problems. A society smart enough to survive long enough to become a super-civilization would have figured out how to solve those problems rather than letting them destroy themselves. They wouldn't be the kind of reckless, destructive creatures that destroy their own home. Instead, they would be the kind of neighbors who keep their yard tidy and don't make noise.
So, where are they? The paper suggests they are right here, in their own backyards, living quietly and happily. They aren't building giant Dyson spheres to suck up all the sun's energy because they don't need that much. They aren't sending out millions of probes to every star because it's a waste of time. They've reached a point where "more" doesn't mean "better." They are the ultimate introverts of the cosmos, content with what they have.
The author admits this is a suggestion based on models and logic, not a fact we can prove yet. We haven't found any aliens to ask them, after all. But the idea fits the data we do have: humans are getting more cooperative as we get richer, and the math of space travel makes total domination look silly. If the universe is full of old, wise civilizations, they might just be the ones who decided that the best way to live is to stop trying to own everything. They aren't missing; they're just enjoying the quiet.
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