Essays on longtermism
Announcing: The ‘Essays on Longtermism’ Competition
When I read Andreas T. Schmidt and Jacob Barrett’s chapter, “Longtermist Political Philosophy: An Agenda for Future Research,” in ‘Essays on Longtermism: Present Action for the Distant Future’, I was struck by a question that has haunted me since my days organizing youth-led climate initiatives in Kano, Nigeria: how can we design political systems that truly prioritize the distant future? Schmidt and Barrett argue that political philosophy must grapple with longtermism—the idea that we have a moral duty to protect the vast potential of future generations. They propose an agenda for institutional reform, suggesting mechanisms like futures assemblies and constitutional protections to counter short-term political biases. Their call for structural change resonates with my experience, where local policies often prioritize immediate gains over sustainable outcomes, like when a community solar project I supported was sidelined for quick-profit infrastructure. Yet, their agenda, while visionary, feels incomplete without a concrete mechanism to embed community voices in long-term decision-making. In this essay, I propose a participatory democratic framework—Community Futures Councils (CFCs)—that integrates grassroots engagement with data-driven foresight to align political institutions with longtermist principles, offering a scalable solution for global challenges like climate change and energy equity.
Schmidt and Barrett highlight a core tension: democratic systems, with their short electoral cycles, often incentivize myopic policies that neglect future generations. In Nigeria, I’ve seen this firsthand. A reforestation project I helped lead in Kaduna stalled because local officials prioritized visible urban developments over long-term ecological gains. Schmidt and Barrett suggest that institutions like futures assemblies—deliberative bodies tasked with representing future interests—could counteract this. While I admire their ambition, their proposal risks being top-down, relying on elite experts or randomized citizen panels that may lack local context. My work with community groups has taught me that sustainable change requires buy-in from those most affected. Without grassroots participation, such mechanisms could alienate the very communities they aim to serve, especially in diverse, resource-constrained settings like sub-Saharan Africa.
To address this, I propose Community Futures Councils (CFCs), localized democratic bodies that blend participatory governance with longtermist foresight. CFCs would consist of elected community representatives, trained facilitators, and data analysts, tasked with developing long-term policy recommendations (e.g., for 2100— or beyond) on issues like climate resilience, energy access, or education. Unlike Schmidt and Barrett’s futures assemblies, which might operate at a national level, CFCs would be embedded in local governance structures, ensuring cultural and contextual relevance. For example, in Kano, a CFC could prioritize drought-resistant agriculture based on community needs, using predictive models to project impacts over decades. This approach builds on my experience in a youth-led tree-planting initiative, where local farmers’ insights shaped our strategy more effectively than external plans.
The originality of CFCs lies in their integration of data analytics with participatory democracy. Schmidt and Barrett emphasize the need for institutions to incorporate forecasting, but they don’t specify how. Drawing on my background in data analytics, I envision CFCs using machine learning to model long-term scenarios—say, the impact of renewable energy adoption on regional economies. In a project I worked on, we used a gradient-boosting model to predict solar panel uptake in rural Nigeria, factoring in variables like cost, infrastructure, and cultural attitudes. A CFC could deploy similar tools to simulate outcomes over centuries, ensuring decisions are evidence-based. However, to avoid the technocratic pitfall Bernard and Vivalt warn about in Chapter 10, CFCs would ground these models in community input. Through workshops and surveys, residents would identify priorities—say, clean water over industrial growth—which analysts would integrate into predictive frameworks. This hybrid approach ensures both scientific rigor and democratic legitimacy.
CFCs also address Schmidt and Barrett’s call for moral inclusivity, ensuring future generations are represented without sidelining present needs. In Nigeria, where over 80 million people lack electricity, balancing immediate energy access with long-term sustainability is critical. A CFC could propose scalable solar grids, using data to project long-term benefits (e.g., reduced emissions) while addressing current inequities (e.g., prioritizing rural areas). My work on a solar microgrid project showed me that community trust is key; locals embraced the initiative only after we held town halls to explain its benefits. By institutionalizing such engagement, CFCs would foster trust and accountability, unlike top-down policies that often fail in diverse contexts.
A potential critique, raised by Charlotte Franziska Unruh in Chapter 8, is that prioritizing future generations might dilute duties to the present. In Kano, I’ve seen communities struggle with poverty so acute that long-term planning feels like a luxury. CFCs counter this by explicitly linking present and future benefits. For instance, a CFC addressing climate change could promote agroforestry, which boosts local incomes now while sequestering carbon for the future. This aligns with Hilary Greaves and Christian Tarsney’s “minimal longtermism” in Chapter 18, which advocates for actions that benefit both today and tomorrow. By grounding decisions in local realities, CFCs avoid the alienation Stefan Riedener critiques in Chapter 9, where distant future concerns can feel disconnected from human values.
To make CFCs practical, we must address implementation challenges. Schmidt and Barrett note that institutional reforms face resistance from entrenched interests. In Nigeria, I’ve seen local governments resist sustainable projects due to corruption or short-term profit motives. CFCs could mitigate this through transparency—publicly sharing data models and community inputs—and by securing funding from global bodies like the UN, aligned with SDG 13 (Climate Action). My experience with a youth group securing grants for reforestation taught me that external support can counter local inertia. Additionally, CFCs could use blockchain-based voting to ensure fair representation, a technology I explored in a university project to track community contributions transparently.
Another challenge is scalability. Schmidt and Barrett advocate for global coordination, but cultural differences complicate universal models. CFCs are designed to be adaptable: a CFC in Nigeria might focus on desertification, while one in Bangladesh tackles sea-level rise. By sharing data and best practices through a global network, CFCs could inform international policy, fulfilling Schmidt and Barrett’s call for cross-border collaboration. My involvement in the YALI network showed me how regional youth groups can exchange ideas effectively; CFCs could scale this model institutionally.
Critics might argue, as Amanda Askell and Sven Neth do in Chapter 17, that focusing on institutional reform distracts from urgent action. In Nigeria, immediate needs like food security often overshadow long-term planning. Yet, CFCs are not a distraction but a bridge. By empowering communities to shape their own futures, they address present inequities while embedding longtermist values. For example, a CFC could prioritize education programs that teach sustainable practices, benefiting today’s youth and future generations. This dual focus reflects my own journey: my passion for chemistry and sustainability grew from seeing how knowledge empowers communities, like when I taught farmers about soil chemistry to improve yields.
To strengthen the case, consider a thought experiment inspired by Toby Ord’s Chapter 13 on shaping humanity’s trajectory. Imagine a world by 2100 where CFCs operate globally. In Nigeria, a CFC reduces desertification by 40% through community-led reforestation, informed by predictive models. In Europe, another CFC mitigates AI risks by integrating public input into regulatory frameworks. Over centuries, these localized efforts compound, reducing existential risks and aligning with longtermism’s goal of a flourishing future. This vision builds on Schmidt and Barrett’s agenda but grounds it in a practical, participatory mechanism.
One objection, raised by Ilan Noy and Shakked Noy in Chapter 29, is that political systems often prioritize economic efficiency over long-term ethics. CFCs counter this by reframing efficiency: sustainable policies, like renewable energy, are cost-effective over decades when modeled accurately. My data analytics work showed that solar investments in Nigeria yield returns within 10 years, a fact CFCs could leverage to sway policymakers. By presenting data in accessible formats—like visualizations shared in community forums—CFCs can shift political incentives toward the long term.
In conclusion, Schmidt and Barrett’s call for a longtermist political philosophy is a vital step, but their agenda needs a participatory edge to be truly transformative. Community Futures Councils offer a novel solution: blending grassroots engagement, data-driven foresight, and moral inclusivity to align institutions with the needs of future generations. My experiences in Nigeria—organizing community projects, analyzing data, and advocating for sustainability all before meeting effective altruism community Nigeria—convince me that such a model is not only feasible but essential. It bridges the gap between present urgency and future potential, ensuring that democracy serves not just today’s voters but the trillions yet to come.
