Unlock AI:Shape the Future - The Arrogance of Anthropocentrism: A (brief) Reflection on Evolution, Intelligence, and the Future of Humanity

The assumption that humanity occupies the pinnacle of evolution, rooted in a deeply entrenched anthropocentrism, has shaped our narratives, ethics, and vision of progress throughout history. From early mythologies placing humans at the center of creation to the Enlightenment ideal of rational beings as nature's ultimate ingenuity, this perspective persists in a silent yet often exaggerated belief that we have reached a final, stable stage of human evolution—the pinnacle of humanity's development.

However, insights from biology, cybernetics, philosophy, and cultural critique suggest otherwise: we have never inhabited a stationary peak; we are, always, part of an unfinished story.

Moreover, the current pace of technological and scientific change suggests that this chapter of our evolution—where we remain predominantly biological, plagued by diseases, and constrained by lifespan—will merely be another phase in humanity’s saga.

Charles Darwin decisively refuted the idea of a fixed hierarchy of species in On the Origin of Species, demonstrating that all life evolves continuously, shaped by the interplay of natural selection and environmental pressures. While revolutionary in the 19th century, Darwin’s ideas remain relevant today: biological evolution sets no ultimate goal but instead invites a never-ending process of transformation.

Carl Sagan’s reflection on the "pale blue dot" reminded us of our cosmic insignificance, instilling a sense of humility before the universe's vastness. Similarly, embracing a post-anthropocentric perspective requires recognizing the potential of intelligent systems or modified biological beings to surpass or significantly diverge from human norms. Yuval Harari, in Homo Deus, argues that the next stage of evolution may involve creating new categories of sentient beings, some organic, others synthetic, challenging us to rethink what it means to be human in a technology-driven future.

Today, in an era marked by synthetic biology, AI-driven research, and genetic engineering, we face a new question: what happens when evolution is no longer solely guided by environmental forces but increasingly determined by the choices we make as individuals and societies, driven by scientific advancements?

The perception that we may soon transcend our natural boundaries is amplified by the rapid acceleration of artificial intelligence. Thinkers like Ray Kurzweil have popularized the idea of a technological "singularity," a moment when machine intelligence not only equals but surpasses human cognition, potentially altering our species’ trajectory irreversibly. Others, like Nick Bostrom, warn that such advancements pose existential risks if not accompanied by robust ethical and regulatory mechanisms. These discussions raise profound questions about power, agency, and autonomy: who decides, or will decide, what enhancements are permissible, and on what criteria?

Addressing these questions involves referencing ideas from Michael Levin, co-creator of xenobots, whose work on developmental biology and bioelectric signaling at Tufts University expands the concept of the "biological body" to include alternative structures of embodiment beyond the purely biological. This vision aligns with philosopher Max More and others who advocate for individual freedom to alter themselves through technology, free from social constraints born of fear or prejudice.

Levin’s argument extends beyond recognizing the likelihood of human-machine hybrids or lab-designed organisms; it insists on the moral obligation to ensure "freedom of embodiment." From his perspective, each person should have autonomy to pursue forms of existence that align with their aspirations. Such freedom implies that no individual or group should impose limits on the transformations someone wishes to undertake.

Whether these transformations involve radical neural interfaces, artificial organs, or innovative prosthetics, the central point is ensuring personal choice and social equity drive these interventions, rather than fear, prejudice, or entrenched hierarchies.

This vision of morphological freedom echoes transhumanist philosophies advocating the individual’s right to modify body and mind. Levin asserts that the pursuit of morphological freedom and well-being must be intertwined with broader questions of equity and justice to ensure enhanced embodiment does not become a privilege reserved for a select few with access to advanced computational resources.

The world we live in is marked by violence, injustice, and entrenched forms of exploitation—challenges so profound that imagining a future without them may seem utopian (just as today we marvel at the humanity of 100 years ago). Yet, if we take the promise of technological evolution seriously, it is not impossible to envision a post-scarcity society where disease, resource shortages, and even aging are mitigated.

In such a scenario, longstanding structures of violence—like the systemic oppression of vulnerable human groups—would require a radical reframing of our perspective on evolutionary progress. Genetic tools capable of eradicating age-related diseases and AI-managed resource distribution in partnership with humanity could drastically reduce human limitations, inequality, and suffering. However, achieving this goal demands more than technological advancements.

These reflections compel us to reconsider anthropocentrism not just as a philosophical stance but also as a practical barrier to the common good. If we cling to the idea that only Homo sapiens (in its current form) deserves moral and legal consideration, we may fail to protect or value entities—be they AI, genetically altered forms, or hybrid beings—that demonstrate capacities for creativity, empathy, and reasoning equal to or surpassing our own.

Expanding our moral circle calls to mind Peter Singer’s appeal to reduce suffering wherever it occurs and Carl Sagan’s plea for humility regarding our cosmic place. Indeed, allowing the emergence of diverse forms of intelligence requires us to redefine personhood in ways that transcend species boundaries and recognize self-awareness, agency, and ethical reciprocity in both biological and synthetic realms.

To achieve this, we must relinquish the belief that human exceptionalism is a given, philosophers like Michel Foucault and Donna Haraway have highlighted that our concepts of "the human" are socio-historical constructs, susceptible to dismantling and reconfiguration under new technological conditions. Haraway's notion of the "cyborg" offers a vision of hybrid identity that dissolves boundaries—human/machine, nature/culture—and points toward more inclusive and dynamic configurations of self.

So, what might the world look like a hundred years from now if we fully embrace this post-anthropocentric turn?

The possibilities are vast: we can imagine a society where genetic editing is so widespread that most hereditary diseases are eliminated, where AI systems work alongside human minds—not fully replacing them nor remaining mere tools—and where morphological freedom is enshrined as a fundamental right. People may choose to maintain entirely biological bodies or integrate neural implants to enhance cognition; they may opt for mechanical limbs that grant new physical and cognitive abilities. More radically, we could hypothetically transfer consciousness into digital substrates, inhabiting virtual realities or robotic exoskeletons, blurring the line between human and artificial intelligence.

However, none of these scenarios are inevitable or without peril. Bostrom’s warnings about existential risks remind us that misaligned AI could pose catastrophic threats. Additionally, disparities in wealth and power could turn these new freedoms into instruments of oppression, creating a world where only an elite accesses life-extending, intelligence-enhancing technologies.

One of the greatest challenges lies in ensuring equitable access to life-enhancing and life-prolonging technologies. Without careful governance, we risk a divide where "enhanced" humans diverge significantly from those unable to afford or access such modifications. Martha Nussbaum's capabilities approach, emphasizing the development and exercise of fundamental human capacities, offers a framework to ensure enhancement opportunities do not deepen inequality.

Achieving balanced outcomes depends on the structures we create to manage these developments: democratic oversight of AI, fair distribution of medical breakthroughs, universal education incorporating ethical and technological literacy, and legal frameworks protecting personal autonomy. In short, it depends on our ability to internalize the lesson that our current (biological and limited) form is but a fleeting moment in a continuous line of development—one that may soon accelerate exponentially.

If there is a unifying thread in these reflections, it is the recognition that humanity has never been the final act in the cosmic or evolutionary drama. Instead, we are participants in a story far greater than ourselves, endowed with a power, perhaps unique, to shape that story in unprecedented ways.

Our narratives must evolve from self-congratulatory myths of superiority to more humble and fluid understandings of what we might become. The transformations enabled by today’s technologies—and those imminent in the near future—suggest that the next stage of our evolution could unfold within a few generations, a blink of an eye on the evolutionary timescale. In this brief span, we may witness the emergence of new forms of intelligence, new types of bodies, and new ways of coexistence with ourselves and the planet.

In summary, abandoning the arrogance of anthropocentrism requires confronting the unknown without succumbing to paralyzing fears.

It demands that we design social and political systems that defend morphological freedom as a fundamental right, ensuring that as we transform, we do so with equity, compassion, and prudence.

As we gain the power to direct evolutionary outcomes, our responsibility grows. Jonas Salk, creator of the polio vaccine, famously stated: “Our greatest responsibility is to be good ancestors.” In this sense, decisions on AI governance, genetic editing policies, and morphological freedom become legacies for future generations—or future forms of intelligence.

It is essential to understand that our present moment, with all its turbulence and limitations, may well be one of the shortest phases in human history—an interlude before intelligence, in multiple forms, transcends the conventions of what we once unquestionably considered "human."

If we use this moment wisely, the future need not be a dystopia of unrelenting machinery or dehumanizing augmentation. Instead, it can be a testament to our capacity for reinvention, empathy, and collective responsibility—a future worthy of what we become.