The history of science has been one of increasing humility.

First Earth was not the center of the universe. Then the Sun wasn’t either. Then the galaxy wasn’t. Then we learn that we were not literally made by a deity but a product of a natural process, and are closely related to monkeys.

Now we’ve learned how to build machines that can do things we once thought only we could do, and it took no magic. It’s just a lot of math. We are learning how it works.

We are not special. That’s been the lesson, over and over.

For many this induces existential despair. I wonder now if it’s behind what seems to be “peak narcissism” at least in our culture. Maybe it’s compensatory narcissism, a reaction on some deep level to the fact that science keeps knocking us off pedestals. The narcissist fears the truth because the truth does that.

But there’s a way out of that despair.

Stop needing to be special. Stop caring. You don’t have to be the main character to have the right to just exist.

I’ll continue to enjoy human art because it speaks of the lived experience of another human. It doesn’t have to be the greatest most elaborate possible art. Art isn’t like that anyway. It just is.

I’ll also continue to be fascinated by the fact that machines can now at least emulate it, and can do so in amazing ways like writing an ad hoc program.

Now wait until we meet extraterrestrials. That’ll be another notch. Earth isn’t even special. Life isn’t even special. There’s probably a trillion biospheres at least.