Benjamin Bratton on Planetary Computation: Why Our Technology Has Outrun Our Concepts

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Overview

Benjamin Bratton, Professor of Philosophy of Technology and Speculative Design at UC San Diego and director of the Antikythera program, gave this talk at the Long Now Foundation in January 2025. His central claim is that we are in a "pre-paradigmatic moment." Technology is ahead of the concepts we have for understanding it, and philosophy's job is to invent those concepts. He treats computation not as mathematics or consumer devices but as a planetary phenomenon: something the planet itself does, through humans. From there he builds an argument about AI, alignment, the evolution of technology, and the long-term adaptiveness of intelligence.

31 min read

A Pre-Paradigmatic Moment

Bratton opened with the oddities of the present, joking that we now get "free AI from a hedge fund and $200 a month AI from a nonprofit." The main idea he wanted listeners to take away was that many ideas now circulating look increasingly similar to one another. He thinks they may be converging into a new frame of reference, but that frame has to be invented, and doing so is difficult.

He described two kinds of historical moments. In some, our ideas of what we want to do run ahead of the technology that could do it. In others, the technology runs ahead of our concepts. He believes we are in the second kind. At such times philosophy's task is to "conjure" the missing concepts so they can be put to use.

He doubts this is happening. Universities, which he called some of our most important epistemic institutions, are in his view "in a bit of a holding pattern." The sciences work in a "do now, think later" mode. The humanities, where he spends most of his time, work in a "critique now, and perhaps act later, but maybe not" mode. He argued this is exactly the wrong time to stop inventing concepts and setting the initial conditions for the society to come.

Computation Was Discovered as Much as Invented

His first proposition was that computation was discovered as much as it was invented, so one can speak of natural as well as artificial computation. He mentioned a recent paper by Stephen Wolfram arguing that the universe is a computational hypergraph, with time as its refresh rate and dark energy as the heat exhaust of the universe's computation. Bratton's response was "could be," and he did not endorse it further.

He argued that thinking of computation as a planetary system is not new. It is where computation comes from: "computation was born of cosmology," in both the astronomical and the anthropological sense of the word. His example was the Antikythera mechanism, which gives his program its name. He dated it to about 200 BC and said it is "probably apocryphally" called the first computer. It calculated, but it was also an astronomical device. It oriented its user in relation to the stars, in space and in time, and allowed a kind of simulated movement backward and forward through time. For Bratton, the idea that computation starts as intelligence orienting itself to its planetary condition is a good starting point.

Computation also became practical calculation as a form of "world ordering." As societies grew more complex, they needed to record what had happened and project what might happen. His example was Sumerian cuneiform. The earliest writing, he said, is mostly receipts, which suggests that all written language since is "variations of accounting." He added that he likes to remind his colleagues in the literature department of this.

Existential Versus Instrumental Technologies

Bratton offered a genealogy of disciplines: sciences are born when philosophy learns to ask the right questions, and philosophies are born when technologies force the birth of new languages. He hopes we are at the second stage. Quoting Stanisław Lem, he said the new things around us "have outrun the available nouns" we have for them.

He borrowed another distinction from Lem, between instrumental and existential technologies. Instrumental technologies matter because of what they do as tools. Bulldozers move dirt, so cities get built faster. Existential technologies, which are rarer, change how we understand the universe when used properly. Telescopes and microscopes are the obvious cases. A key thesis of his work is that computation is both, and that it is important to preserve the space for computation as an existential technology.

To explain what existential technologies do, he invoked what Freud called Copernican traumas. These are the "priceless accomplishments" through which we learn that the universe does not work the way it appears to, and so we decenter ourselves and work out again who, what, and where we are. Galileo's telescope, and the eventual deduction of heliocentrism, is his model. Without that "technological alienation," perceiving the world in ways otherwise impossible, "we really wouldn't know where we are."

He described a cycle. We have a model of the world. We build technologies based on that model's implications so we can measure, see, or calculate something. When we use the technology properly, we find out the model that made it possible is wrong. The model then has to be reconciled with what the technology revealed. He presented this as a general account of technology's role.

Climate Change as an Achievement of Planetary Computation

Bratton argued that this is pressing today, not only historical. He claimed that the scientific concept of climate change is an intellectual accomplishment of planetary computation. Without satellites, ocean temperature sensors, ice core samples, and above all supercomputer simulations of past, present, and future climate, we could not perceive the dynamic changes in the planetary systems we live inside. This, he said, is roughly what planetary computation is for.

He drew philosophical and ethical implications. Through climate science, Paul Crutzen and others arrived at the concept of the Anthropocene, which Bratton called "problematic as it may be." Because the concept comes from climate science, which depends on planetary computation, he called it a "second-order concept derived from planetary computation." It shows how an existential technology can change our understanding of our agency as a species. Only by measuring how far we had "artificialized" the planet did recognizing that agency become possible.

He drew a lesson for philosophy from this. Philosophy tends to assume that you first cultivate subjectivity, which then produces better forms of agency. He argued it often runs the other way. The possibility of being a planetary subject only arises once agency has been mapped.

From Blue Marble to the Black Hole Image

To explain what planetary computation is, Bratton showed the 1966 Lunar Orbiter image, the first picture of Earth taken from the Moon, which he said was on the cover of every newspaper that year. When Martin Heidegger was interviewed (Bratton appears to refer to the Der Spiegel interview), he was shown the image and was, by Bratton's account, horrified and "literally shaken." Heidegger said we do not need nuclear weapons to destroy the world, because this image had already destroyed it. Bratton reads this as Heidegger seeing that an intuitive, phenomenological, egocentric understanding of world and being had been overwhelmed by an allocentric perspective. After it, we cannot quite believe the world is what it was before. "For us this is a feature," Bratton said. "For him it was the biggest bug."

He then set the Blue Marble beside the black hole image, which he dated to 2018. It is a reconstruction from terabytes of data. He argued that its existential implications are as important as Blue Marble's, perhaps more so, partly because of how it was made. Imaging something more than 50 million light years away requires very high resolution, and resolution depends on aperture. The widest aperture possible on Earth is the diameter of the Earth itself. So the Event Horizon Telescope linked telescopes from the North Pole to the South Pole into a new optical sensory organ. It even used the planet's rotation as a timing mechanism. The planet grew a new sensory surface and became part of the machine.

He argued the two images place humans in very different positions. Quoting his own writing, he said Blue Marble implied a global village with humans as "apex creationists" in charge of a mythical garden. The black hole image "demands a different planetary regime by rendering humans as a privileged mediating residue that sets in motion further generalized cognition." He called this a new profile for humanity that will take time to get used to.

He then read from his book The Terraforming. Imagine the Blue Marble as a film of Earth's entire 4.7-billion-year history on fast-forward. You see the planet spin, volcanoes, Pangaea. In the very last instant, something extraordinary happens: the planet sprouts a sensory, epidermal exoskeleton of satellites and other mechanisms that relay information across its surface. He wants planetary computation understood this way, as something the planet has done and as part of its evolution as a dynamic system, not only as a human industry.

AI and Its Philosophy as a Double Helix

Turning to AI, Bratton noted that AI has co-evolved closely with the philosophy of AI. Thought experiments from Turing and Searle have driven the technology, and the technology in turn drives the philosophy. He sees a "double helix" here that is unusual among technologies. He summarized the project as "matter thinking about matter making matter that thinks."

His position is that AI will teach us as much about what thinking is as we teach it. To artificialize something is to discover what it is. He linked this to climate science: artificializing the climate is what eventually made it possible to know we have that agency.

He mentioned a recent piece of his, "The Five Stages of AI Grief," which maps how current AI discourse falls short: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It started as something of a joke, he said, but readers find themselves recognizing people in each category, and "those are usually the best ones."

"Alignment to What, Exactly?"

Bratton took what he called a somewhat contrarian position on alignment. He thinks much of the alignment discourse assumes a naive picture of human needs, desires, values, and ethics. The assumption, sometimes spoken and sometimes not, is that amplifying those needs and desires in one direction will make everything work out. He sees this as reversing the Copernican implications of AI and returning to an unnecessary anthropocentrism, even anthropomorphism.

He used the Turing test to make the point. Turing proposed it as a sufficient condition: if the machine can fool the interlocutor, we must grant at a functional level that something is going on inside it. Bratton thinks the Turing test as a metaphor has turned into a necessary condition instead. Unless AI performs thinking the way humans think humans think, it is disqualified. He regards this "over-normativism," with the human reflected as the model, as a problem.

He clarified what he was not arguing. It is uncontroversial that AI should do what it is asked and should not help make chemical weapons. His objection is to making human culture, values, and likely human behavior the North Star for AI's artificial evolution. "Have you ever met humans?" he asked. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

He also criticized what he calls "reflectionism." One camp says AI is too much like humans and needs to be bent toward us. Another says AI merely reflects the socioeconomic power systems of human society. So AI is either exactly like us and that is the problem, or not at all like us and that is the problem. People sometimes say both at once, which he takes as a sign that something is off.

If AI is an existential technology that will disclose how thinking, the world, and our own agency work in ways we cannot yet imagine, and will change our cosmology in the anthropological sense, then alignment must at least be bidirectional. AI would be steered toward us, and we would also have to adjust to what it outputs. He went further: the assumption that the greater societal risk comes from not regulating AI "may be quite wrong."

Productive Disalignment and Cascades of Causality

Bratton described a quadrant. Everyone knows the "less alignment, more bad" and "more alignment, more good" cells. His program wants to account for "less alignment, more good," partly because it is underexplored and partly because he argues that "alignment overfitting," making AI do exactly what people want in every case, is the real risk. His example was the slot machine, which he called arguably "the pinnacle of human-centered design," a device that does exactly what the human wants in the moment. He said this is to be avoided at all costs. The program instead cultivates what he calls "productive disalignment," which has to allow for unpredictable cascades of causality.

Referring to that week's DeepSeek news, he gave an example cascade. Cheap energy produces cheap complexity, which he called something of a Santa Fe Institute truism. Cheap complexity allows cheap inference, cheap inference allows cheap intelligence, and cheap intelligence allows cheap energy. These are the kinds of productive disalignments he thinks should be protected.

On governance and power, he said the question of control and agency is undecided. His formulation was that "AI is less a tool of industrial policy than industrial policy is a tool of AI." He acknowledged serious issues of centralization, consolidation, and where power sits. He then noted that, unlike earlier means of production that structured society, AI is available for a monthly subscription, and that this "may really be the democratizing factor."

He listed two more areas of productive disalignment. First, the explosion of work on non-human cognition, including animal and plant intelligence, is happening at the same time as we artificialize intelligence in a mineral substrate. He sees these comparative discourses starting to share and mirror each other, sometimes explicitly, and expects this to become very important.

Second, he pointed to the current claim that the next year will be about agentic AI and the "consensus prediction" that AGI will appear around 2027. Put together, whatever one takes AGI to mean, these suggest a scenario with 8 billion human-level minds that are human and 80 billion that are not, a ratio of ten to one, perhaps later a hundred or a thousand to one. In that case, he said, what constitutes a society "goes back to first principles." His program tries to draw insight from this kind of "weirdness right in front of us."

Technology Evolves, and So Does Computation

Bratton argued that technology literally evolves and is never just a tool. All technologies are built from earlier ones, which act as scaffolds for more complex technologies. Looking at anthropogeny, he said biogenesis and technogenesis have always been coupled. Our anatomy, such as opposable thumbs, bears the imprint of earlier ways of using the world for directed purposes. This structural deepening becomes more complex over time and becomes a way of mapping evolutionary time.

He listed the features that make this evolution rather than metaphor. Components scaffold toward more complex things, which become components of yet more complex ones. There is adaptation and exaptation: technologies fit niches, and technologies designed for one purpose become useful for entirely different ones. There are convergent and divergent paths and path dependencies. All of this, he noted, is equally true of biological evolution. He quoted a collaborator's line: "What if humans are a phase in the history of technology?"

Computation itself is evolving too. Showing an image of a brain ("this is not my refrigerator, by the way"), he described the prefrontal cortex as one of biological evolution's most remarkable achievements, an object capable of predictive information processing. The planet "folded itself" over long periods to produce an object through which it came to deduce things about itself. Now the substrate of complex intelligence includes the lithosphere as well as the biosphere. "We, the fire apes," by folding bits of metal and rock and running current through them, "figured out how to make the rocks think." This belongs to our evolutionary trajectory and also to the rocks'.

He added that evolution selects for species that are good at artificialization. A species that builds technologies to capture more energy, information, and matter by artificializing its environment can grow its population, so the capacity for artificialization is adaptive. He framed this with the cybernetic distinction between autopoiesis, a system using its environment to reproduce itself, and allopoiesis, an agent using its environment to produce something external to itself.

AI as the Artificialization of Artificialization

Bratton presented a sequence, which he explicitly called "a napkin sketch" rather than a new scientific method, to locate AI. He began with a point he said Sarah Walker would make in her own Long Now talk: natural selection begins with chemistry, not biology, because certain molecules are stable and reproduce one another. Selection eventually stabilizes into life, entities capable of autopoiesis that internalize energy, information, and matter to reproduce themselves.

Each step then drives the next. To be good at life, and thus at autopoiesis, you need to be good at allopoiesis, because making external things lets you capture more for yourself. To be good at artificialization, you need to be smart individually and collectively, able to imagine future states, so intelligence evolves. To be good at intelligence, you must communicate abstract ideas between the nodes of an intelligent system, so symbolic language becomes very useful. To get the most from symbolic language as a way of accelerating and collectivizing intelligence, the artificialization of intelligence itself becomes useful. Hence his thesis: "AI is actually the artificialization of artificialization."

He stressed that the sequence has feedback as well as order. Each achievement scaffolds the next, and the later stages change the earlier ones. Once artificial intelligence becomes robust, it will change symbolic language. He expects it will inevitably transform the languages we speak and work with over the next few years. Language in turn has already changed the kinds of intelligence we have. The recursion continues: AI's changes to language will change intelligence, which will change the capacity for artificialization. He said this is what he meant by "cheap intelligence equals cheap energy."

He also insisted this is not the end of the cycle. If life scaffolds autopoiesis, which scaffolds allopoiesis, and so on up to symbolic language and AI, then what is all of this a scaffold for, and what will that in turn scaffold? He said we will have to wait until the end of the next 10,000 years to know, but the sketch offers a way to map in advance what it might mean.

Life, Intelligence, and Technology Converging

As an example of the pre-paradigmatic moment, Bratton pointed to how definitions of life, intelligence, and technology are converging. Contemporary definitions of life as an autopoietic and allopoietic phenomenon that uses predictive modeling of its environment look increasingly like contemporary definitions of intelligence. Those in turn look like evolutionary theories of technology. All three are built on evolutionary scaffolds that are themselves scaffolds for future forms.

He posed this as an open question. If life and technology are not categories of matter but processes that produce kinds of matter, at what level of abstraction are they the same process? "I don't know," he said. He suggested we might presume that "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from life, and perhaps vice versa," and added, "We'll find out."

The Antikythera Program

Bratton briefly described Antikythera. Its rationale is that the gap between our capabilities and our concepts could be disastrous, and new kinds of epistemic institutions are needed to develop the missing vocabulary. The program is incubated by the Berggruen Institute, which he said has supported cutting-edge work in philosophy and politics for a decade or more.

Its activities include conferences, most recently a full-day gathering of key researchers at the MIT Media Lab a few weeks before the talk, and salons, which are shorter, intensive one-day discussions in different cities. He called the studio arguably the most important part. Architecture has benefited from an exploratory studio culture. Since society now asks of software what it used to ask of architecture, organizing people in space and time, he argued software needs a similar studio space for working from first principles.

The program has a new partnership with MIT Press for a book series and a peer-reviewed journal. "What Is Life?" has come out, and "What Is Intelligence?" will be the first major title. The journal pairs leading thinkers with designers to produce definitive versions of their ideas that include visual work as part of the argument. An exhibition was planned for May at the Palazzo Diedo. He described the program as collaborative, including astrophysicists and zoologists, with network faculty from major universities and companies.

Cosmology Split in Two, and a Future to Compose

Bratton contrasted two views of the future. In the 20th century, the future was something to be accomplished. Watching the education of his 16-year-old son, he sees the future presented as something to be prevented: the year 2050 in IPCC reports becomes a question of how to make sure that future does not happen. He granted this has some validity but argued for thinking about how to face forward.

He named a "dire disconnect" between cosmology in the astronomical sense, which to his astrophysicist friends means black holes and dark energy, and cosmology in the anthropological sense, which to his anthropologist friends means how cultures understand their position and significance. Traditionally the two moved in lockstep. Now we know far more about how the universe works than our cultures have absorbed. One response is to bend science to cultural dispositions. The other is to update culture to what we know to be true. He recommends the latter.

He summarized Earth's history as a lithosphere that makes a biosphere that makes a technosphere that is now part of the noosphere. He stressed that this is not an argument for mastery or total control. Maximizing intelligence will not mean we can control the normative decisions or the cascading outcomes. But it is not optional either: "humans are doomed to compose their own evolution and blessed to never truly understand or control that process."

Is Complex Intelligence Adaptive in the Long Run?

The question Bratton said he wrestles with is what conditions would let complex planetary intelligence exist, grow, and thrive over a 10,000-year span. In the short term, as his timeline showed, complex intelligence is highly adaptive. It lets species like ours do things otherwise impossible. But complex intelligence in its current form may reach a point where it undermines its own continuation, becoming maladaptive in the long term. He noted that Arthur C. Clarke and others had posited this.

So he asks what the preconditions for long-term adaptiveness would be, and says this is where his work and the Long Now Foundation's overlap most. His starting point is that those preconditions will mostly have to be realized artificially. Some may be discovered, but others will have to be brought into existence. Recognizing both the necessity of creating them and the impossibility of controlling what follows is traumatic, and he suggested it may be "the most important Copernican trauma at hand."

He closed by reading about James Lovelock. Knowing he was dying, Lovelock wrote his last book, Novacene: The Coming Age of Hyperintelligence. In a chapter Bratton expects startled some of Gaia's more mystically minded admirers, Lovelock calmly reported that Earth life as we know it may be giving way to abiotic forms of life and intelligence, and that this was fine with him. Lovelock was content to leave knowing the human substrate for computational intelligence may give way to something else. Bratton framed that shift as not transcendence, magic, or "leveling up," but a phase shift in the same ongoing process of selection, complexification, and aggregation that is life.

Bratton said Lovelock could be at peace because the AI Copernican trauma does not mean humans are irrelevant, replaceable, or at war with their creations. Advanced machine intelligence does not imply our extinction, "neither as noble abdication nor as bugs screaming into the void." It does mean that human intelligence is not what it thought it was. It is something we possess but that possesses us even more. It exists less in individual brains than in the durable structures of communication between them, such as language. Like life, intelligence is modular, flexible, and scalar. It extends down to subcellular machines and up to larger aggregations of which each of us is a part and an instance. "Eschatology is useless," he said. The evolution of intelligence does not peak with "one terraforming species of nomadic primates," which he called "the happiest news possible." Like Lovelock, he said, "grief is not what I feel."

Q&A: Building a School of Thought

The host, introduced as Long Now's new board president, asked about building a school of thought and about the interplay of human and machine thought over the next 25 years. Bratton said Antikythera aims to establish a school of thought for this pre-paradigmatic moment. It would not have all the answers but would change the questions so that better answers become more likely. That means generating philosophy from direct encounters with technology rather than projecting existing philosophy onto it, as in some AI ethics discourse or in asking "what would Kant think about driverless cars." If people adopt the program's language to define the problem space, "even if they disagree with us, we win."

On human and machine thought, he said he does not hold a strong dichotomy between them. He takes as given that anthropogenesis and technogenesis have been deeply coupled over time, so treating human thought as separate from the technologies of thought is the wrong starting point. The real question is how their current, explicit convergence forces us to rewrite our history and perhaps suggests an arc going forward. Drawing on the structuralism and post-structuralism he studied in graduate school, he said we speak language but language speaks us even more. It should not be surprising that language turned out to be a repository of intelligence from which general-purpose capacity could be derived. He contrasted this with DeepMind's big bet on games.

Q&A: Are People Thinking Less?

The host suggested people are outsourcing their thinking to generative AI and thinking less. Bratton disagreed. He recalled the Platonic dialogue (he appeared to mean the Phaedrus) where Socrates criticizes writing because it would destroy memory, prevent direct dialogue with the author and so invite deception, and let people communicate with the dead. The word Socrates used was pharmakon, the root of "pharmacy," meaning both remedy and poison at once. It is not something to be sorted into one or the other later; it is always both. "For sure AI is pharmakon," he said.

He called much of the generative AI discussion short-term. He suggested imagining that everything you do from waking to sleeping is training data for the future's model of the past, which he called a big responsibility and "a bit of living in the third person." He proposed thinking of generative AI not as a tool but as a way that collective intelligence models itself over the long term.

Q&A: Updating Culture, Classrooms, and Institutions

Asked how culture could be updated toward allocentrism, Bratton pointed to pedagogy. He finds it bizarre that most philosophy departments teach no neuroscience, naming UCSD and Pittsburgh as partial exceptions. Why have a department about how we think while ignoring what is known about how we think? He argued similarly about teaching astronomy, neuroscience, and genomics. His son's high school forbids AI. He compared this to calculators: when he was in school (in "the 14th century," he joked), using one got you in trouble, and now not using one does. Putting calculators in the classroom meant students take calculus a year earlier because they skip arithmetic busywork and focus on concepts. He asked what the calculator equivalent for AI would be.

He sits on a University of California committee on AI policy in the classroom and said the meetings make him want to pull his hair out, because most discussion is about preventing and forbidding AI, "as if that's even possible." As a teacher, he assumes his undergraduates use large language models and considers it his job to design better assignments.

Asked why Antikythera sits outside a traditional university, he described it as "a kind of pirate ship" moving between ports and carrying things between them. He remains a UC San Diego professor, but said there is "no economic format" within the university for the work the program does. "I tried."

The final question came from community member Jessie Kate: how might institutions be read through planetary computation, and what is their future? Bratton said an institution's value lies largely in its durability. People construct a system to solve certain problems or cultivate certain questions, and with each cycle it evolves, building internal scaffolds where what it does becomes a component of something more complex it does later. That takes time. In a world that seems to be liquefying, things with more durability remain important. He extended "institution" beyond boards and human organizations to technical ones, citing the metric system, which he had discussed in the lobby before the talk. It is a platform that means no one has to decide again how wide things will be, so everyone can "get on with it." He concluded that the best institutions do the work so that everyone else can get on with theirs.