A Christian case against longtermism

by Andres Morales.

Longtermism has attracted some attention recently. I contend that a very weak form of longtermism can be compatible with Christianity, but that our concern for present people should override concern for future people—regardless of population size—thus rejecting strong longtermism. In this post I will primarily approach this from a moral duty perspective, rather than focusing on any practical issues with longtermism like cluelessness.

Stewardship, or what we owe the future

Christians do have a commitment to the reality of the future. God, being outside time, has full knowledge of the past and future (Ps. 90:2–4, Isa. 46:9–10), so at least a basic concern for the future might be expected of us. God also foreknows future persons specifically (Ps. 139:16, Rom. 8:29–30, Eph. 1:4), who we humans can’t even be certain will exist. There is some biblical precedent for responsibility towards future people. Proverbs 13:22 says, “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children.” The cultural mandate given to Adam and Eve (and applicable to us) to populate the earth (Gen. 1:28) implied that reproduction and child-rearing would be integral to God’s plans for humans, which further implied that humans would need to steward the earth for the sake of those future people that fill the earth. Later God promises Abraham descendants as a “reward” and makes further promises to his not-yet-existing future descendants (Gen. 15:1–16). While ancestry and offspring are important theological concepts, they are mostly used in the context of family and covenant, instead of any larger point about duty to the future.

For now, humans have dominion over the earth and a responsibility to tend to it, care for its inhabitants, and keep it habitable for later generations. Christians are not additionally asked to maximize total happiness in the world now or in the far future, nor colonize the galaxy so that more people (especially not simulated people) can exist.

Love and justice

Christian longtermism can potentially overcomplicate commands like loving neighbor and acting justly. The majority of biblical instruction is applicable for people in their normal environments and social situations and does not require intelligence or contemplation or calculation, but love (1 Cor. 13:1−3). The New Testament is filled with “one another” commands, instructions about relationships, and exhortations to communal piety (John 13:34–35, Gal. 6:2, James 5:16), which all in practice require present and personal engagement with other people. More than just rule-following, a Christian should most of all cultivate an attitude of love, which is easier in relation to existing people. The theme of justice is also prevalent throughout the Old and New Testaments. Advocacy, justice, and charity for the poor is commanded (Prov. 31:8−9, Matt. 25:31−46, James 2:15−16). This has been called the preferential option for the poor, or can be thought of as a prioritarian ethic. If we assume the trajectory of global living conditions will continue, this ethic would mean our highest priority for charity would be the people that need the most help today.

Jesus’ ministry, and the early church that followed, was primarily concerned with coexisting people (his sacrifice being an exception, affecting past and future believers [Rom. 4, John 3:16]). If Jesus was a longtermist or an effective altruist or even just a utilitarian, he could have introduced countless treatments, technologies, or simple hygiene habits in the first century to save millions of lives over the course of history. Instead he chose to heal the sick supernaturally. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus spends his time preaching and helping the disadvantaged in his direct surroundings rather than seeking political power to ensure more permanent long-term security and welfare for his people (Matt. 4:23−24, John 18:36−37). Jesus’ followers, then and now, might not be able to comprehend the true long-term consequences of his ministry, but his life and actions gave the impression that we should prioritize care for the “least of these” today over the future.

Eschatology, existential risk, and responsibility

Longtermism is concerned with mitigating existential risks which could (with some shockingly high probabilities) cause an extinction or curtail humanity’s potential. Protecting life is objectively good. But a Christian can also reasonably surrender the future to God and not be anxious about it; believers are promised earthly suffering not in the form of existential threat outcomes, but persecution and tribulation (Matt. 6:25−34, Matt. 24). And we know God has eternally executed his perfect plan for humanity and the world, fully aware of anything that would appear to genuinely threaten the human race. What we call existential risks to God may simply be never-actualized possibilities, or the means by which he brings about the eschaton. Still, longtermist efforts are useful. I value AI safety and governance, not because I fear a misaligned superintelligence wiping out humanity with nanotechnology, but because of the potential inequality and other side effects of transformative AI. I value biosecurity, not because I fear an engineered pandemic killing all Homo sapiens, but because I witnessed the devastation caused by COVID-19. Preventing a climate catastrophe is an example of stewarding the earth well, helping present people as well as future people.

Even assured that God would likely not allow the dangers we face to actually become legitimate extinction events, humans still have responsibility. This to me is the greatest tension in considering longtermism. It is wise, and intuitive, to weigh consequences at least a few generations out. It is also natural to discount the effects of actions after a person’s lifetime. A Christian right now with influence or resources can positively affect many existing and future people, and can surely use diverse approaches to do good. Importantly, the burden of bringing about utopia is not laid on humans. I personally think time and resources are best spent supporting policies and interventions that reliably do tangible good in the present, while also having a relatively high chance of being best for the long-term. Subscribing to any form of longtermism stronger than that will necessarily divert attention and charity from pressing issues today.