A thought experiment:
You get on a passenger jet and take your seat. In this thought experiment, there are no terrorists, just ordinary everyday people who buy a ticket and get on the plane and listen as the flight attendants go through their safety lecture. You listen to the little speech about where the exits are located, how to use the oxygen masks, and which part of the belt buckle goes into the other part.
Then, at the end, they direct your attention to the armrest, where every seat is equipped with a red button under a plastic cover.
“The cover is currently locked, and will be unlocked as soon as we’re in the air,” says the flight attendant on the microphone. "When that happens, under no circumstances are you to lift the cover and press the button. For if you do, the plane will be instantly destroyed and everyone aboard will be killed.
“Have a nice flight.”
The question: How many planes will reach their destination without some curious person pressing the button and killing everybody? Like I said, I’m not referring to terrorists or people with ill intent; what are the odds that on any given plane an average curious individual will think, “Really?” and give it a try. Even with the reports of other planes falling out of the sky in fiery balls of death, will people be able to stop themselves from pushing their own buttons?
Obviously, no passenger jet would be so equipped; it’s just a hypothetical scenario. But the larger question follows closely: If we give people the capacity to destroy themselves and others, can they resist the urge?
Right now, we’re seeing the social effects of “weapons of mass destruction” (as loose a catchall descriptor as that is) starting to become available at a wide scale. We learn about anthrax and sarin and ricin and how simple it is to manufacture something dangerous, though it takes a bit of effort to make something hugely lethal. The plans for constructing a nuclear weapon are easily available on the web; only the availability of plutonium is the obstacle. And this knowledge scares the shit out of us, collectively speaking, and so far we have been willing to tolerate an erosion of certain civil liberties as the price we pay for ensuring our physical safety. When it comes to putting up with increasingly invasive searches and enhanced police powers vs. the risk of having our lungs melt in a poisonous cloud, we may grumble, but nevertheless we obediently queue up at the security station.
What does this mean in the long term? As science and technology marches on, as we begin to untangle the fundamental forces of the universe, doesn’t it become possible that even more powerful destructive techniques will start to appear? Now, I’m not a loon, and I’m not suggesting that this power is totally limitless; simple physics is enough to reassure me that Steve in Schenectady isn’t going to be able to knock the Earth off its orbit by hooking a balaclava to a nine-volt battery and soaking the thing in soy milk. There’s a limit of plausibility here.
Even so, in our remarkable age, we take our household lasers and magnetrons totally for granted, because they’ve been integrated with our everyday lives. (Amusing digression: If you suggested to a science-fiction writer that said technology would be used to play with cats and heat up leftover chili, instead of exploring the universe, you’d probably have gotten a chuckle.) The internet makes it possible for absolutely anybody to find out about almost anything almost instantly. Private investors are building space planes and forming tentative long-term plans to build on the moon and Mars. Data encryption permits private citizens to lock their personal information away from all but the most powerful codebreaking systems, and even those systems are struggling to keep up in the ongoing arms race. Communication technology lets far-flung individuals coordinate themselves across the globe with ease.
Now, don’t get me wrong here: I’m not buying into the sky-is-falling Luddite philosophy that views all of our magical toys with distrust and advocates a return to nontechnological living. I’m not saying it’s a mistake to pepper in God’s lo mein. I’m a big fan of what our thinkers and engineers have been able to give us, and I think in virtually every measurable way, the human experience is better now than it has been at any point in recorded history. All the same, you have to admit, there is potential for tremendous harm looming in the future. It’s vague and ill-defined, and we can’t predict future breakthroughs that could radically change the balance of the social equation, or even if there will be any. It could be decades or centuries before catastrophically destructive but easy-to-build devices are developed, at which time, hopefully, humanity will be spread across multiple worlds and thus enjoy some insulation from total annihilation. Or, while it’s unlikely in the extreme, it could happen next month. We just don’t know.
My question, and the subject for debate, is this: What happens as the inexorable march of discovery brings more and more power into the hands of average people? Will we continue to tolerate the encroachment of government power into our daily lives, on an incremental basis, in order to maintain the perception of safety? Or will we resist change even while it is being thrust upon us, until the social paradigm undergoes a violent shift to accommodate the new reality? Basically, is human psychology such that we can be happy to live quietly and without interference in our own homes even with the awareness that our neighbor, a stranger, has the capacity to, say, vaporize ten city blocks without any warning?
Nice easy question. We should have this knocked off by dinner.