There’s another way in which pessimism can be used as a coping mechanism: it can be an excuse to avoid addressing personal-scale problems. A belief that one is doomed to fail, or that the world is inexorably getting worse, can be used as an excuse to give up, on the grounds that comparatively small-scale problems will be swamped by uncontrollable societal forces. Compared to confronting those personal-scale problems, giving up can seem very appealing, and a comparison to a large-scale but abstract problem can act as an excuse for surrender. You probably know someone who spends substantial amounts of their free time watching videos, reading articles, and listening to podcasts that blame all of the world’s problems on “capitalism,” “systemic racism,” “civilizational decline,” or something similar, all while their bills are overdue and dishes pile up in their sink.
This use of pessimism as a coping mechanism is especially pronounced in the case of apocalypticism. If the world is about to end, every other problem becomes much less relevant in comparison, including all those small-scale problems that are actionable but unpleasant to work on. Apocalypticism can become a blanket pretext for giving in to your ugh fields. And while you’re giving in to them, you end up thinking you’re doing a great job of utilizing the skill of staring into the abyss (you’re confronting the possibility of the end of the world, right?) when you’re actually doing this exact opposite. Rather than something related to preverbal trauma, this usability as a coping mechanism is the more likely source of the psychological appeal of AI apocalypticism for many people who encounter it.
There’s another way in which pessimism can be used as a coping mechanism: it can be an excuse to avoid addressing personal-scale problems. A belief that one is doomed to fail, or that the world is inexorably getting worse, can be used as an excuse to give up, on the grounds that comparatively small-scale problems will be swamped by uncontrollable societal forces. Compared to confronting those personal-scale problems, giving up can seem very appealing, and a comparison to a large-scale but abstract problem can act as an excuse for surrender. You probably know someone who spends substantial amounts of their free time watching videos, reading articles, and listening to podcasts that blame all of the world’s problems on “capitalism,” “systemic racism,” “civilizational decline,” or something similar, all while their bills are overdue and dishes pile up in their sink.
This use of pessimism as a coping mechanism is especially pronounced in the case of apocalypticism. If the world is about to end, every other problem becomes much less relevant in comparison, including all those small-scale problems that are actionable but unpleasant to work on. Apocalypticism can become a blanket pretext for giving in to your ugh fields. And while you’re giving in to them, you end up thinking you’re doing a great job of utilizing the skill of staring into the abyss (you’re confronting the possibility of the end of the world, right?) when you’re actually doing this exact opposite. Rather than something related to preverbal trauma, this usability as a coping mechanism is the more likely source of the psychological appeal of AI apocalypticism for many people who encounter it.
That includes “raising the sanity waterline”, by the way. We used to talk about it, long time ago.