“Everything needs to change and it has to start today.”
– Greta Thunberg, 2018.
I am writing as a concerned Australian citizen to oppose this project. I respectfully call upon you to reject the project for the following reasons:
It does not enjoy support from the local community. Democracy requires that people should have representation in administrative and community matters, and there are many local people who oppose the project for many of the following reasons, and because it will not greatly add to local employment, nor otherwise benefit their community and the world around them.
The expansion will reportedly destroy 55 irreplaceable Aboriginal cultural artefacts, and potentially impact dozens of others. Such damage to our national and cultural legacy – for such short-term gain – must surely border upon the unethical and criminal.
The proposed expansion is located alongside a nature reserve and environmental damage will be extensive. This includes groundwater and creeks where pollution or other effects could create wide and long-term damage. It is our responsibility to protect our environment, and this project adds to damage and endangerment while adding very little overall benefit.
The project would destroy extensive areas for flora and fauna. I understand that this includes habitat for koalas, Regent Honeyeaters, and up to 401 hectares of the nationally endangered Box Gum Woodland ecosystem. It is our legacy to protect these areas for the sake of the biosphere and for the future of the world.
The proposed expansion will contribute to climate damage that contradicts NSW climate goals and endangers the future of the world. I work with young Australians, many of whom are concerned with the inadequacy of actions by Australian authorities to address and redress climate damage concerns. It is incumbent upon your Commission to ensure that their concerns are acknowledged and that action is taken to create a better world for these generations who follow.
The proposed expansion ignores world trends to wind back coal and fossil fuels. It entrenches redundant economic and ethical policies that the world is leaving behind. Australia needs to move forward instead of repeating the mistakes of our past.
I ask you to consider the legacy this proposed expansion would leave for future generations, and I submit that this legacy would not be positive for Australia or the world.
I respectfully urge the Independent Planning Commission to recommend that the Moolarben OC3 Coal Mining Extension Project be refused. Thank you for considering my submission.
This essay is published in celebration of Star Trek Day (8 September) the anniversary of the original series’ premiere in 1966. It honours the visionary legacy of humanist Gene Roddenberry and the enduring dream of a better future for all humanity.
Art by Copilot AI
“With a tear for the dark past…”
“…turn we then to the dazzling future, and, veiling our eyes, press forward.”
— Edward Bellamy, Looking Backward: 2000–1887
“It isn’t all over…”
“…everything has not been invented; the human adventure is just beginning.”
— Gene Roddenberry, on Star Trek’s vision
In 1888, Edward Bellamy published a novel that sold over a million copies, inspired a political movement, and imagined a future without poverty or greed. Looking Backward: 2000–1887 was more than fiction. It was a blueprint for a better world. Bellamy’s vision of a cooperative, egalitarian society captured the imagination of a generation grappling with the chaos of industrial capitalism.
Set in the year 2000, Looking Backward follows Julian West, a 19th-century man who awakens in a future Boston transformed by nationalized industry, universal employment, and economic equality. In Bellamy’s utopia, citizens receive equal credit from the state, labour is honoured, and poverty has been eradicated. The novel presents a society governed by reason, solidarity, and shared prosperity; a future where competition has given way to cooperation, and justice is built into the very structure of daily life.
Nearly a century later, Gene Roddenberry picked up the torch. His creation, Star Trek, launched in 1966, offered a similarly hopeful vision: a future where humanity had transcended its divisions, embraced peace, and explored the stars not for conquest, but for understanding. Roddenberry’s Federation was Bellamy’s Boston in orbit; an evolved society built on shared purpose, moral clarity, and technological abundance.
Today, few remember Bellamy’s name… and Roddenberry’s legacy could learn lessons from why.
Before we confront the threats facing utopian storytelling today, it’s worth asking: what kind of thinker was Edward Bellamy or Gene Roddenberry?
From Human to Humanist
Was Edward Bellamy a Humanist?
Although Edward Bellamy lived before the modern humanist movement, his utopian vision in Looking Backward resonates deeply with humanist principles: reason, compassion, and social justice. He imagined a society where cooperation replaced competition, and civic dignity was prioritized over profit — ideals rooted in Enlightenment thinking.
Raised in a religious household, Bellamy’s philosophy evolved into what Arthur E. Morgan called a “religion of solidarity”: a secular ethic grounded in empathy and collective responsibility. His blueprint featured universal employment, equal resource distribution, and respect for labour — all hallmarks of humanist ethics.
In many ways, Bellamy was a proto-humanist: an early voice calling for a society built on justice, reason, and shared humanity. His legacy continues to inspire those who believe a better world is achievable through moral imagination and collective effort.
Was Gene Roddenberry a Humanist?
Yes — formally, proudly, and profoundly. Gene Roddenberry was not merely aligned with humanist ideals; he was publicly recognized as a humanist and used Star Trek as a vehicle to express those values. His vision of the future was secular, ethical, and radically optimistic — a moral blueprint for humanity’s potential. Humanists UK
Belief in human progress: Roddenberry envisioned a society where exploration replaced conquest, and knowledge was pursued for the betterment of all. His optimism reflected a belief in humanity’s capacity to evolve through empathy, science, and cooperation. Screen Rant
Secular ethics: A lifelong atheist, Roddenberry rejected supernaturalism and embraced a moral framework rooted in dignity, justice, and rational inquiry. His characters were ethical agents, navigating complex dilemmas with integrity and courage. We’re History
Focus on equality and dignity: The Federation abolished poverty, prejudice, and currency. Starfleet officers served not for profit, but for principle (embodying humanist ideals of pluralism, peace, and shared responsibility). CBR
Roddenberry’s humanism remains a living tradition. Yet today, both his and Bellamy’s visions face mounting threats from political extremism and religious fundamentalism, to corporate censorship and cultural decline. In a post-truth world where science is contested and empathy dismissed, their utopias remind us that the human adventure is not guaranteed; it must be defended.
Philosophical Parallels: Two Utopias, One Dream
Art by Copilot AI
Though separated by nearly a century, Edward Bellamy and Gene Roddenberry imagined futures where humanity had outgrown its divisions. Both rejected the zero-sum logic of capitalism and envisioned peace not as the absence of war, but the presence of justice.
Bellamy’s utopia was economic: a society where money was obsolete, work was honoured, and citizens received equal credit from the state. His future was built on solidarity and civic dignity.
Roddenberry’s vision was moral and technological. In Star Trek, replicators eliminated scarcity, and exploration replaced conquest. The Federation had no currency, no poverty, and no prejudice. Starfleet officers were philosopher-engineers, guided by ethics and curiosity.
Roddenberry extended Bellamy’s dream beyond humanity. His Federation embraced sentientism: dignity for all self-aware beings, from Vulcans to androids. This shift anticipated today’s debates on AI rights, animal ethics, and planetary stewardship. His utopia wasn’t just post-scarcity; it was post-anthropocentric.
Both men believed that, given the right conditions, humanity could evolve into something noble. Their futures weren’t just fantasies… they were moral blueprints.
“Starfleet was founded to seek out new life — well, there it sits! Waiting.”
— Captain Jean-Luc Picard, The Measure of a Man (TNG, Season 2)
Both men’s visions rejected the zero-sum logic of capitalism. Both imagined peace not as the absence of war, but as the presence of justice. And both believed that humanity, given the right conditions, could evolve into something noble.
Why Bellamy Faded
Despite his enormous influence in the late 19th century, Bellamy’s legacy dimmed over time. His utopia, once a rallying cry for reformers, became a relic.
Static vision:Looking Backward presented a finished society — perfect, harmonious, and unchanging. Over time, this began to feel sterile and implausible.
Political baggage: Bellamy’s Nationalist Clubs promoted democratic socialism, which later became controversial and misunderstood.
Literary shifts: As dystopias rose in popularity, Bellamy’s earnest optimism felt out of step with the darker tone of modern fiction.
From Clubs to Culture
Bellamy’s Nationalist Clubs were more than political experiments. They were early rehearsals of utopia. These grassroots groups built community around shared ideals, much like fandoms today. Their meetings, publications, and mutual aid efforts foreshadowed the participatory culture that Star Trek fans would later embody.
Roddenberry didn’t just inherit Bellamy’s blueprint; he reengineered it. Where Bellamy’s followers organized politically, Trek fans organized culturally. The Federation became more than fiction; it became a metaphor for participatory hope.
Why Roddenberry Endures
Roddenberry’s utopia didn’t arrive fully formed. It evolved. That adaptability is key to its lasting appeal. Star Trek unfolded over decades, across series and films. Each generation reinterpreted the Federation’s ideals through new characters, challenges, and cultural lenses. It absorbed real-world issues (civil rights, gender equality, environmentalism) and reflected them back through allegory. It wasn’t static; it was affective.
Bellamy’s vision was locked in print; a frozen ideal. The modern world ultimately left him behind. Roddenberry’s dream endured because it was ironically sustained by the very capitalism he sought to critique. For commercial reasons, the franchise evolved to stay relevant: it took three decades to assign captaincy to African-American and female leads, and five decades to acknowledge LGBT+ existence. Progress didn’t move at warp speed, but it moved.
Roddenberry didn’t just imagine a better potential future: he set in motion a living dream: one that continues to adapt, provoke, and inspire.
Relevance Today
In an age of climate crisis, automation, and rising inequality, Bellamy’s dream may be less naïve than it once seemed. Universal basic income, cooperative economics, and post-scarcity technologies are no longer science fiction; they are policy debates.
Roddenberry’s Federation continues to inspire. But perhaps it’s time to revisit Bellamy… not as a relic, but as a reminder. His vision of economic justice, civic dignity, and peaceful progress still speaks to our deepest hopes. If Roddenberry gave us the stars, Bellamy gave us the ground beneath them: a vision of Earth as it could be, if we dared to dream again.
“Humanity has the stars in its future…”
“…and that future is too important to be lost under the burden of juvenile folly and ignorant superstition.”
— Isaac Asimov, I, Asimov: A Memoir
From Cultural Vanguard to Cultural Crossroads
For much of the 20th century, the United States shaped the global imagination. Through Hollywood, pop music, and television, it exported ideals of freedom, innovation, and moral debate. Star Trek was one of its beacons — a utopia imagined in its own image, inviting the world to dream along.
Even the name “America,” claimed solely by the United States, reflects a linguistic imperialism that erases the rest of the continent. This rhetorical dominance parallels the Federation’s own framing: a utopia imagined in the image of U.S. exceptionalism. Just as Starfleet’s command structure echoes military hierarchy, the Federation’s cultural ethos often mirrors American liberalism more than universal pluralism.
But that dominance is fading. Audiences now turn to stories from South Korea, India, Turkey, and beyond. Bollywood, Nollywood, Wellywood, and other industries offer narratives rooted in their own values and struggles. The promise of globalization has faltered, and US media often feels disconnected.
Meanwhile, political extremism and corporate censorship threaten the integrity of US storytelling. Sanitized scripts and cancelled voices signal a retreat from bold imagination. Star Trek always suffered from the tension to “boldly go” into social issue stories without offending sponsors or studio executives, and even today there are culture wars about whether the program should be woke or weak. Is it a commercial “starship” enterprise, or a mythic “Starship Enterprise”?
Utopia Under Siege: Star Trek, Censorship, and the Cultural Decline
The sky is darkening. The utopian dream, once nurtured by visionaries like Roddenberry, now faces mounting threats.
Recent events suggest that the utopian dream, once nurtured by visionaries like Roddenberry, is now under threat. The reported cancellation of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert by CBS, following Colbert’s criticism of Donald Trump and Paramount’s corporate dealings, is more than a media controversy. It’s a warning sign. When political pressure intersects with corporate interests, even satire becomes dangerous.
This isn’t just about one voice being silenced. It’s about the erosion of the cultural spaces where dissent, imagination, and moral clarity once thrived. If Hollywood (the engine behind Star Trek) begins to mirror the authoritarianism it once critiqued, then the Federation itself may be at risk.
Roddenberry’s universe was built on ethical courage. It challenged racism, war, and tyranny. It imagined a future where truth mattered and justice prevailed. But if the institutions behind Star Trek now prioritize profit over principle, what remains of that vision?
The decline of US cultural leadership isn’t measured in box office numbers. It’s measured in the stories we no longer dare to tell, the questions we no longer ask, and the ideals we no longer defend. Star Trek emerged from a nation steeped in contradiction: a self-declared champion of human rights, yet shaped by war, empire, and inequality. Starfleet, for all its utopian rhetoric, was modelled on military command — a structure that both enabled ethical exploration and mirrored the hierarchies it claimed to transcend. Within that tension, the franchise once dared to imagine better: a Federation built not on conquest, but on cooperation, pluralism, and moral clarity.
Today, that cultural and moral imagination is under siege. The rise of political and religious fundamentalism — exclusionary in tone, authoritarian in practice — has narrowed the cultural bandwidth for dissent, empathy, and ethical inquiry. The Trump movement didn’t invent this erosion, but they accelerated it: openly denying science and winding back human rights, normalizing cruelty and abuse, banning books and people they deem undesirable, cancelling history and stories they oppose, undermining truth and difference of opinion, denying diversity and empathy, and recasting pluralism as a threat. If Star Trek loses its edge, as part of a larger erosion of culture and human freedoms, we lose more than a franchise. We lose a tradition of storytelling that once challenged power from within, offered refuge to the marginalized, and insisted that a better future was possible, even when history said otherwise. The retreat from that vision signals not just creative fatigue, but a deeper cultural surrender.
“For small creatures such as we…”
“…the vastness is bearable only through love.”
— Carl Sagan, Cosmos
Where to From Here?
The decline of US cultural dominance doesn’t mean the end of utopian dreaming; it means the dream must evolve. Let global voices reinterpret the Federation. Let Nairobi, Seoul, or São Paulo imagine new futures. Defend artistic freedom. Reclaim moral imagination. Roddenberry’s vision was never a monument; it was a movement. And movements must adapt, resist, and renew.
Beyond the Federation: Utopia, Culture, and the Global Imagination
Star Trek’s Federation reached for the stars, but its roots were planted in Bellamy’s soil — a dream of justice before warp drives. For decades, U.S. culture dominated the global imagination, exporting ideals of freedom and exploration. But that dominance came with blind spots: a monocultural lens that often flattened diverse traditions into a singular mythology.
Today, a renaissance of global storytelling is reshaping what utopia can mean. From Korean dramas and Africanfuturism to Indigenous speculative fiction and Islamic futurism, new voices are expanding the dream. These visions bring fresh textures (spiritual, communal, ecological) that challenge and enrich the legacy of Roddenberry and Bellamy.
A truly universal utopia won’t be built from one culture’s imagination alone. It must be a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance between cultures, between Earth and stars, between past and future.
“To learn which questions are unanswerable…”
“…and not to answer them: this skill is most needful in times of stress and darkness.”
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness
Today, we are witnessing a renaissance of global storytelling. From Korean dramas and Chinese myth-based video games to Indigenous speculative fiction and Africanfuturism, new voices are reshaping what utopia can mean. These visions bring fresh textures — spiritual, communal, ecological — that challenge, enrich and supersede the US dream.
What began as a singular vision must now become a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity.
A truly universal utopia will not be built from one culture’s imagination alone. It will be a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance — between cultures, between Earth and stars, between past and future.
Despite their utopian ideals, both Bellamy and Roddenberry reflected the gender norms of their time. Bellamy’s vision granted women economic equality but confined them to roles deemed suitable for their “disqualifications,” with domesticity idealized over independence. Roddenberry, especially in The Original Series, often portrayed women through a lens of sexualization and subordination, despite later efforts to evolve. Their futures imagined justice, but left gender equity unfinished. As we dream forward, we must ensure that tomorrow’s utopias do not inherit yesterday’s exclusions. Bellamy source, Roddenberry source
Women and Fandom: The Heart of the Trek Legacy
“I have always said that Star Trek introduced science fiction to women… and women to science fiction.” — Geoff Allshorn
Star Trek didn’t just imagine a better future; it invited people to help build it. Despite their trivialisation and objectification in the program, women became central from the beginning. In 1966, Nichelle Nichols’ Lt. Uhura broke television barriers. She wasn’t a sidekick, she was a linguist, a bridge officer, and a symbol of dignity. Her presence inspired generations, including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who urged her to stay, calling her “part of history.”
Since then, Trek has introduced powerful women like Janeway, Kira, Seven of Nine, and Burnham — leaders who challenged norms and expanded the franchise’s moral imagination. Behind the camera, women shaped Trek as writers, producers, and critics. Nana Visitor’s A Woman’s Trek chronicles this evolution, showing how the series mirrored — and sometimes led — shifts in women’s roles.
Women fans have done more than watch — they’ve rebuilt the culture around Trek. From zines to fanfic, conventions to campaigns, they’ve reimagined identity, justice, and belonging. Their engagement is co-authorship. They didn’t just keep the dream alive. They made it real.
Contrary to stereotypes, surveys show that Trek fans are as likely to be women as men. They’ve defended the franchise’s inclusive ideals, challenged its blind spots, and created entire subcultures around its values. As Professor Daryl G. Frazetti notes, Star Trek functions as a secular myth, and women have been among its most powerful mythmakers.
In many ways, women and fandom are the Federation’s real architects. They’ve kept the dream alive, not just on screen, but in the world. The next utopia must rise from the margins: from the voices long excluded from the cultural blueprint.
Diane Marchant with her mother Jessie at Trekcon 1 (Australia’s first Star Trek convention) on 15 July 1978. (Photo by Helena Binns)
Fandom itself has long been a space where women thrive. Contrary to stereotypes, surveys show that Star Trek fans are as likely to be women as men, and they span every age, background, and identity. StarTrek.com’s fandom study confirms this. Women fans have written fan fiction, organized conventions, and defended the franchise’s inclusive ideals when corporate interests faltered.
Costume parade at Trekcon 1, 15 July 1978. Women comprise a significant proportion of the participants.(Photo from my collection)
Women have not only shaped the stories of Star Trek. They’ve reshaped the meaning of fandom itself. From early zine culture to modern fan fiction, women have long used Trek as a canvas for reimagining identity, justice, and belonging. This participation has often challenged the franchise’s own boundaries, pushing it toward greater inclusivity. Yet it also raises questions about cultural appropriation: when fans reinterpret Trek through feminist, queer, or decolonial lenses, are they expanding the myth, or appropriating it from corporate control? The relationship between fans and franchise is symbiotic, but not always equal. Women fans have campaigned to save cancelled series, demanded better representation, and created entire subcultures around Trek’s ideals. Their engagement is not passive consumption; it’s active co-authorship. As Professor Daryl G. Frazetti notes in his study of fandom, Star Trek functions as a secular myth, and women have been among its most powerful mythmakers.
In many ways, women and fandom are the Federation’s real architects. They’ve kept the dream alive — not just on screen, but in the world. The next utopia must rise from the margins: from the voices long excluded from the cultural blueprint.
“There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle…”
“…because we do not live single-issue lives.”
— Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider (1984)
Pluralist Futures: Global, Intersectional, and Ethical
Speculative fiction has long mirrored society — but often through a narrow lens. Today, that mirror is cracking open. Indigenous futurism reclaims ancestral memory and land sovereignty. Queer utopias celebrate chosen families and radical love. Africanfuturism, Islamic futurism, and Pacific Islander storytelling bring spiritual, communal, and ecological textures to the dream.
Roddenberry imagined technology as liberation. But today’s tools — algorithms, drones, biometric surveillance — often serve power, not people. Utopia must now grapple with this duality: can we build tools that dignify, not dominate?
These aren’t just representational wins. They’re philosophical revolutions. The next utopia must be a mosaic — plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance.
Fandom as Resistance: Keeping the Flame Alive
Star Trek fandom has always been more than cosplay and convention. It’s been a crucible of dissent. Fans have demanded representation, challenged militarism, and reimagined canon through zines, fanfic, and activism. Their engagement is not passive consumption — it’s co-authorship.
As studios sanitize scripts and silence dissent, fans keep the flame alive. Roddenberry’s utopia survives not because of Hollywood, but because of the people who refuse to let it die. The next Federation won’t be built by corporations — it will be imagined by communities who dream forward, together.
A Final Reflection: The Gesture of Utopia
Utopia isn’t a genre; it’s a choice. A refusal to accept the world as it is. Bellamy and Roddenberry dared to dream beyond their time. Today, we must do the same.
Let the next Federation rise from Nairobi, Seoul, or São Paulo. Let it speak in many tongues, walk many paths, and honour many ancestors. Let it be messy, plural, and alive.
Because the future of utopia is not “American.” It is human. And humanity, at its best, dreams forward… together.
“We are part of this universe…”
“…we are in this universe, but more importantly, the universe is in us.”
— Neil deGrasse Tyson, Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey
Sources & Citations
This bibliography reflects a deliberate blend of primary texts, scholarly commentary, and cultural sources, each chosen to honour the intellectual lineage and activist spirit of speculative fiction. Citations are presented not merely as academic obligation, but as a gesture of respect: to the thinkers, creators, and communities whose visions shaped this work.
Sources span traditional scholarship, fan studies, and multimedia platforms, acknowledging that utopian discourse lives both in books and in fandom. Where possible, I cite original publication dates and creators to preserve historical context. I include Wikipedia and fan sites selectively, not as authorities, but as cultural artefacts that reflect participatory knowledge-making.
Isaac Asimov, 1994. I, Asimov: A memoir, Doubleday.
Edward Bellamy, 1888. Looking Backward: 2000–1887, Ticknor and Company.
Gregory Claeys, 2010. The Origins of Dystopia: Wells, Huxley and Orwell, Oxford Academic.
Martin Gardner, 1983. Bellamy’s Utopia Revisited, New Criterion.
Ursula K. Le Guin, 1969. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ace Books.
Antonia Lipsett, 2019. “Roddenberry’s ethics and the Federation”, We’re History.
Audre Lorde, 1984. Sister outsider: Essays and speeches, Crossing Press.
Diane Marchant & Helena Binns, 1978. Trekcon 1 photograph, Fanlore.
This essay is both a tribute and a challenge. As a lifelong humanist and fan, I’ve always seen speculative fiction not just as entertainment, but as ethical rehearsal: a way to imagine justice, dignity, and shared humanity. Bellamy and Roddenberry gave us blueprints. Fandom gave us tools. The future will be built by those who dare to dream forward, together.
My thanks to the communities who keep these dreams alive in zines, in classrooms, in convention halls, and in quiet acts of courage. And to readers: may you find in these pages not just nostalgia, but possibility.
Fanthropology 101: Dreaming and Doing in the Real World
A four-part journey through how fandom helps us imagine better futures, and build them.
Part One: Forgotten Futures How two dreamers imagined a better world, and gave us tools to build it
Published: 8 September 2025 Read Part One
Edward Bellamy and Gene Roddenberry didn’t just write stories, they sketched blueprints for justice, dignity, and shared humanity. Their utopias still shape how fans rehearse better futures.
Part Two: Dream It Forward Why fandom isn’t just fun, it’s how we practice empathy
Published: 4 October 2025 Read Part Two
From Arthurian quests to Star Trek conventions, this chapter shows how fandom helps us rehearse courage, community, and care, turning stories into solidarity, and imagination into action.
Part Three: Fandom’s Humanitarian Legacy How fans built real-world networks of care, long before hashtags and headlines
Published: 25 November 2025 Read Part Three
Ficathons, charity drives, and survivor support groups…this essay documents how fandom became a lifeline for many, offering help where institutions failed.
Part Four: From Fic to Future Fan fiction isn’t just storytelling, it’s ethical and pragmatic life guidance
Published: 31 December 2025 Read Part Four
Honouring Diane Marchant and the legacy of fan creators, this chapter explores how fandom helps us rewrite injustice, rehearse empathy, and build continuity across generations.
People often say the world is getting worse. That we’re spiralling into chaos, losing our morality, dooming the planet, and becoming more divided. I understand why it feels that way — the news feeds us a constant diet of fear, outrage, and despair. But if you step back, if you look at the bigger picture — at the long arc of history and the quiet transformations happening around us — a very different story emerges. A story of progress, compassion, and hope.
I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on this, often writing short pieces to share online, to push back against the constant cynicism. And I want to tell you: things are getting better. Not perfect — far from it — but better in so many ways that matter. More moral. More peaceful. More just. We are, little by little, becoming more humane.
Let me start with something most people don’t realise: we are living in the most peaceful time in all human history. Violent crime has been decreasing for hundreds of years. A majority of countries have abolished the death penalty. War has become less frequent, less deadly, and less glorified. Duels are gone. Torture is mostly outlawed. Slavery, which was once accepted as normal, is now universally condemned and outlawed in most of the world.
Rights have expanded too. Women are no longer considered property. Children are no longer sent to factories and mines to work themselves into an early grave. LGBT+ people are gaining legal recognition, respect, and love. Even animals have more rights today than at any point in history.
What makes me hopeful isn’t just the decline in violence — it’s the rise in empathy. People today get outraged over injustices that would have once been ignored or accepted. That outrage, even if it sometimes burns a little too hot, is part of what drives progress. We care more. We feel responsible. And we act on it.
One of the most powerful drivers of this change is education. Literacy is approaching 100%. Access to knowledge has exploded. Thanks to the internet, anyone with a phone — even someone living below the poverty line — can now carry a supercomputer in their pocket with access to most of humanity’s accumulated knowledge. Wikipedia, Project Gutenberg, Khan Academy, LibriVox, Sci-Hub, CrashCourse — these and so many more are putting learning and creativity in everyone’s hands. And when people learn, they grow. When they grow, they make better choices.
Yes, there are still terrible things happening. Yes, there are still corrupt politicians, bigots, and corporate greed. But even those are increasingly exposed and challenged. Social media, citizen movements, and transparency tools have made it harder to hide the worst crimes. Oppressed and disempowered people have the ability to communicate their situation direct to the whole world via their mobile phone and social apps. As messed up as politics feels, I believe we have more honest and accountable leaders today than in most of our history. And when governments fail us, ordinary people step up — shifting to renewable energy, fighting for justice, and building solutions in their own communities.
That brings me to one of our biggest reasons for hope: the green transition. Even if governments drag their feet, renewables are booming. Solar and wind are now cheaper than fossil fuels. In many parts of the world, communities, councils, and businesses are leading the way. The shift is unstoppable. What used to be a niche ideal is now economic common sense.
Another area where quiet revolutions are underway: food. Indoor vertical farms, vat-grown meats, and plant-based diets are becoming more viable and affordable. These changes have the potential to dramatically reduce environmental damage, end factory farming, rewild vast areas of land, and feed people more sustainably. It’s not science fiction anymore — it’s happening now.
Then there’s AI — the newest wave of transformation. I know it scares some people, but I think it could be one of the best things we’ve ever created. AI has the potential to free us from meaningless jobs, offer universal education through personalised tutors, and boost creativity in ways we’re only beginning to see. It could be a key part of a new renaissance, where more people than ever can write, invent, and explore. The productivity gains from AI could even help make universal basic income a reality — a system where everyone has a safety net and the freedom to live, not just survive.
And if you need proof that people are getting better, just look at how social norms have shifted. Not that long ago, public calls for equality would have been mocked or ignored. Today, sexist, racist, and homophobic remarks are more likely to be called out, not laughed off. We still have work to do, but the trend is clear — and it’s encouraging.
Sometimes it helps to remember how bad things used to be. My own mother wasn’t allowed to buy land without a man’s signature. Only a couple of lifetimes ago people used to enjoy public hangings as entertainment. Until recent decades beating children, wives, and animals was seen as a private matter. Diseases that once wiped out millions are now virtually gone, thanks to hygiene, medical science, and vaccines. Incomes, education, and life expectancy have all improved. We have challenges, yes — especially with climate change and biodiversity loss — but we also have tools, knowledge, and the public will to face them. And that’s new.
One of the biggest myths we fight is the idea that the past was some kind of golden age. It wasn’t. It was more violent, more ignorant, more unjust. People today have more options, more power, and more ways to connect and help each other than ever before. That’s progress. That’s hope.
I often think about how even the poorest among us now live better than royalty once did. Instant communication, clean water, warm clothes, access to medicine, travel, and information — all available to increaing numbers of ordinary people. That’s extraordinary. And it’s still just the beginning.
Of course, the future isn’t guaranteed. We could still screw it up. But I believe we won’t. Because most people are fundamentally good. They care about their kids, their neighbours, their communities. They want to help. They want to understand. They want to make things better. That, more than anything, is why I still have hope.
So on this International Day of Hope, let’s resist the cynicism. Let’s challenge the media that feeds us constant fear. Let’s spread good news, celebrate our wins, and support the people and ideas pushing us forward. The world is getting better. Not by magic. Not automatically. But because people — regular people like you and me — are making it so.
I (Miriam) have often replied to people online who voice doom and gloom and think the world is on the verge of collapse. I point out how far from reality that is and how the mainstream media, politicians, and religion poisons people’s outlook. The world is much better in countless ways. I tend to keep copies of many of my online interactions, so I gathered 37 of them, some short, some long, to build into an article for the Humanist World blog. Unfortunately I was running late, so I got the idea of asking ChatGPT to merge all my pieces together. I use AI a lot, but I was astonished at how good the result was. With minimal editing by me, what you see above is that result.
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few… or the one.” – Spock.
Today, on Human Rights Day, the newspapers here are full of news that the Australian government announces cuts in migration, in apparent response to polls that suggest Australians think we are importing too many foreigners. This is the same population that recently told our indigenous people that they did NOT deserve the human right to have a voice in the democratic process; the same population that wants the government to shackle and detain black people who have arrived by boat, even after the High Court declares that indefinite detention is illegal.
Meanwhile, wars in the Ukraine and Gaza and Sudan and Yemen continue unabated. The USA votes against ceasefire in Gaza, and the UK abstains. Sorry, there will be no peace on Earth for millions of human beings this Christmas.
It is now 75 years since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was signed, and we seem to be much further away from achieving its goals than at any time since it was written. Affluent, entitled white folk bewail the “woke” lefties who promote social justice; conspiracy theorists demand their “rights” not to wear a mask or have innoculations, spreading a potentially fatal virus to the most vulnerable.
Therein lies a basic problem: many people think of human rights as an individual, ie. “my rights”. They need to think of humanity as a collective, a family, a genus.
Human rights do not begin and end with us, or with our immediate biological family, nor with our extended friendship grouping. Nor do they end within the limitations of our personal philosophies. I like to remind some people of a good comparison between being “pro-life” and being “pro human rights”:
Someone who says they are pro-life needs to understand that being “pro-life” does not begin and end with the question surrounding abortion. Being pro-life also means supporting women’s autonomy, and the right to make choices both at the start and the end of life. Being pro-life means opposing unrestricted gun ownership, the death penalty, and religious rights to discriminate against minorities. Pro-life means supporting universal health care and a universal basic income, endorsing school lunch programs and women’s shelters and social housing. It means demanding welfare programs, increased spending on science and medicine, and less spending on war. Being genuinely pro-life means upping our refugee intake, it means free public education, and employment programs to increase self-reliance and self-esteem, and to reduce crime and poverty. It means encouraging trans folk and gender variant people and everyone who encompasses diversity and difference to live freely and happily and joyfully. Pro-life means improving the quality of life for everyone around us – and around the whole world – especially for those with disadvantage, disempowerment or disability. It means higher taxes and adopting “trickle up” economics instead of “trickle down”. It means abolishing the developing world by engaging in a cultural war for true human equality. It means encouraging people to think critically and become educated and empowered and autonomous, resisting the religious or political or cultural systems that oppress them. Pro-life means working for social evolution and cultural revolution.
And so it is with human rights: anyone who claims to respect and uphold human rights must see the bigger picture. Until they are enjoyed by the person deemed to be least worthy or least likely or most overlooked and forgotten, then human rights mean nothing.
Today, on Human Rights Day, over one hundred million people are refugees or displaced due to wars, starvation, despots, genocide and injustice. Do we care?
Along with human rights come human responsibilities: and we have a duty to care – and to act. We need to extend the concept of human rights to our human family, and beyond that, to other sentient species, and to the environment, and to the biosphere – because these are all married to our rights and our survival. As creatures formed from stardust, we are all intimately connected. Human rights are life rights. Perhaps a quote from Carl Sagan would help us to gain some perspective:
“Whenever our ethnic or national prejudices are aroused, in times of scarcity, during challenges to national self-esteem or nerve, when we agonize about our diminished cosmic place and purpose, or when fanaticism is bubbling up around us – then, habits of thought familiar from ages past reach for the controls. The candle flame gutters. Its little pool of light trembles. Darkness gathers.” – Sagan, The Demon Haunted World.
In the modern world, we see democratic nations electing fools and unqualified charlatans. We see populist movements of people who are ignorant of science trying to drag us backwards to the era of flat earth and oppression of minorities. It’s easy to dismiss the problem as being too big: we cannot save the world, so it’s too hard to try doing anything. But I think that we must recognise our human duty to spread hope: our world, for all its ugliness, is still a place where war and famine and injustice and cruelty are slowly being eliminated. Beauty and idealism and youthful enthusiasm must be nurtured.
Our ultimate human right is to spread hope and life; everything else is incidental and will come as a consequence. So the next time you think of giving life-saving food to a starving refugee, or another act of selfless human humanity, remember that not only are you right to do so, but it is your human right to do so – saving the world, saving the ethical core of your own humanity.
