On the Brink of Extinction — Introduction
Mankind almost died about 75,000 years ago.
A colossal explosion in Indonesia sent up titanic blankets of ash, fume, and rubbles that engulfed almost all of Earth. Spewing thousands of tons of ash into the atmosphere, the Toba eruption created a decade-long volcanic winter, leading to a monumental die-off of flora and the end of some species. The eruption was so violent, the ramifications so unprecedented, and the death toll so prolific, so much so that it is ranked as the most powerful volcanic event in the last twenty-five million years. Large swaths of lands in Malaysia, India, and west-Asia were smothered by volcanic slag up to thirty feet thick. The noxious smoke and debris then gingerly sailed over Africa, leaving behind a trail of obliteration and death in its wake. The brutality of the event was so extreme that some believe that it shrunk the global human population to just a few thousand survivors.1
Take a moment and imagine the kind of pandemonium caused by this calamitous event. Our forefathers would have been terrorized by the parching heat, unrivaled loss of their brethren, and terrified by the sight of clouds of gray ash obscuring the sun. Thick coom and dust strangled and poisoned people irrespective of their credentials. For a thousand years after the Toba volcano fumed with rage, the temperature plunged causing a volcanic winter.2 Flora and fauna died off at a colossal rate, leaving behind a gloomy, barren landscape. Our ancestors were left with no choice but to rummage the ravaged terrain for minuscule scraps of edibles; Most died of starvation; Cannibalism thrived, and it looked like the perfect illustration of a dystopian society. The fortunate lot who survived had but one purpose: to survive; to flee as far away as they could from the shackles of death that prevailed on their good, warm, once-pleasant Earth.
Today, as humanity peers anxiously into the present and the uncertain future, it becomes impossible to ignore that the ordeal faced seventy-five millennia ago may well serve as a grim foreshadowing of catastrophes yet to come. Any reasonable mind would admit, if only with reluctance, that the extinction of life on Earth is not a question of if, but when. The ledger of natural history leaves no ambiguity: of all the forms of life that have graced this planet — creatures that crawled upon trees, swam through oceans, soared across skies, or flourished in dense jungles — more than 99.99 per cent have vanished forever. From the dinosaurs that once shook the ground beneath them to the whales that glide through the seas, from the bacteria to the towering forests, nearly all have passed into silence. We don’t need a time machine to validate this fact. Dig beneath your feet into the smeary soil and you’ll excavate a plethora of fossils, substantiating the extinction of several ancient living entities on Earth. As bitter as it might seem, the truth is that deterioration and extinction are the norms of life. The story of life is that living things appear and evolve on Earth, relish the rays of the sun and the gushing wind on their bones, and then wither and eventually succumb to death.
Such will be our fate. However tenderly we may revere the sea breeze that greets us in the morning, the crisp gust of air that brushes against the skin, or the splendour of mountains outlined against the sky, there will come a day — a day as unremarkable in its arrival as the setting of the sun, and yet monumental in its consequence — when the Earth itself will turn against us, and life in all its forms will vanish.
Until now, the greatest trials imposed upon humanity were authored by nature’s hand alone. I think of the five great extinctions that swept across this planet, obliterating nearly all life, leaving only the faint traces of what once was. These were calamities we neither invited nor resisted; they were dictated by the indifference of tectonic plates, the violence of volcanoes, the whim of climate, or the random cruelty of a rock hurtling from space. Civilisations had no part in these convulsions of the Earth. They struck without appeal, and those who lived in their path were reduced to dust.
In the 21st century, however, for the first time in the history of Homo Sapiens, we are about to encounter several threats at once due not because of nature, but of our own incongruity and imprudence.
We are facing and will face the ramifications of global warming, engineered by human greed and short-sightedness. We are burning the planet with an almost gleeful recklessness, pumping carbon into the atmosphere, draining aquifers, razing forests, and melting glaciers, all while our political leaders’ posture and prevaricate
We are standing on the precipice of biological warfare, where advances in biotechnology, rather than being harnessed solely for human health, are increasingly drawn into the calculus of military strategy. The day is coming when engineered pathogens — far more lethal than any natural disease — could be unleashed, carrying the capacity to annihilate the overwhelming majority of humanity in a matter of weeks.
We are gambling with Artificial Intelligence, a technology of staggering potential, yet one pursued without restraint or global governance. Already it threatens to displace hundreds of millions of workers, corroding the dignity of labour and widening inequality, while at a deeper level it challenges the very essence of what it means to be human — to feel, to think, to imagine, to love, and to create. To build machines that surpass us without first understanding what makes us who we are is the height of hubris.
We are succumbing to the siren call of hyper-nationalism, a disease of the modern world as toxic as the plagues of the past. In country after country, leaders stoke hatred, discrimination, and tribal politics, replacing cooperation with suspicion, and solidarity with exclusion. This path leads only to conflict, division, and ultimately war.
We are still shackled by myths and seductive falsehoods, and it is infuriating to witness the degree to which intelligent people allow themselves to be deceived. These are stories so old, so thoroughly disproven by evidence, yet they are wielded as weapons to justify cruelty, ignorance, and intolerance. Religions, fables, and parables that once guided human understanding now serve as chains around the mind, clouding judgment, rationality, and moral clarity.
We are sleepwalking into a surveillance state, where governments and corporations, armed with unprecedented digital tools, can monitor, manipulate, and suppress individuals at a scale once unimaginable.
And we are confronted with the strategic ambitions of a rising China, whose model of authoritarian governance and global dominance threatens to uproot the fragile liberal order painstakingly built after the Second World War. In its bid for power, China recalls both the imperial conquests of the sixteenth century and the totalitarian nightmares of the twentieth, seeking to impose a one-party order not just at home but, in time, abroad.
The challenges in the present era are many. The likelihood of each of the seven threats rupturing into a full-blown catastrophe is high. Even if we manage to dodge some of the threats I’ve outlined, the remaining dangers will inevitably grow with a force that will overwhelm everything else. In practical terms, even if we master Artificial Intelligence, curb the spread of irrational mythologies, restrain hyper-nationalism, and block China’s expansionist ambitions, climate change alone is capable of inflicting partial — or even total — collapse. Conversely, if we stabilize the climate but fail to contain the rise of hyper-nationalists, we can expect leaders intoxicated by ego and ideology to exploit lethal instruments such as autonomous AI weapons, engineered pathogens, nuclear arsenals to impose their will on neighbours, heedless of human suffering. And if we manage both climate and nationalism, yet underestimate China, we risk watching the Chinese Communist Party continue its domestic oppression, expand its influence abroad through debt diplomacy, surveillance, and strategic use of advanced technologies, while simultaneously preparing for a global projection of power that recalls the ambitions of colonial empires and twentieth-century dictatorships alike. The point is unavoidable: these crises are deeply interconnected. Addressing one while ignoring the others is an illusion of safety; in the real world, partial solutions are often worse than none.
Even as we survey the interlocking crises of our era, it becomes clear that understanding their full scope requires more than mere acknowledgment; it demands careful attention, critical thinking, and moral clarity. In this book, I intend to focus precisely on that — the immediate effects these challenges have on human societies and the decisions we must confront today. What is unfolding before our eyes, and where should we concentrate our efforts if we hope to avert catastrophe? Which threats require our utmost vigilance, and what choices will determine whether we flourish or falter as a species? Who among us can act as a catalyst for change, and who represents a danger we cannot ignore? What kind of inheritance are we preparing for the next generation, and which of our actions — or inactions — will history judge most harshly? Above all, who truly suffers in this landscape of crises, where misfortune and power collide in unequal measure, and where clarity of thought and courage of action are the only antidotes to the chaos we face?
7.9 billion people are inhabiting the world as I write this book. That accounts for 7.9 billion dreams, 7.9 billion moments, 7.9 billion threats, and 7.9 billion agendas. Naturally, not all the 7.9 billion people would want to think of the bigger picture. Perceiving the world, as one entity, perceiving it not as fragmented societies and detached countries on maps, rather seeing it from a holistic lens is relatively a rare trait. In other words, thinking collectively is no leisurely picnic in a sunlit meadow; it is to trudge through a forest of thorns, over rocks sharpened by centuries, past ravines that yawn like hungry mouths, all the while keeping your eyes fixed on a distant summit few have the courage — or the patience — to reach.
No wonder a marginal farmer in the outskirts of Tamil Nadu is focused on a good yield to pay back his borrowed loans; No wonder the refugees who fled away from war-ravaged nations looks out for safe lands to survive; No wonder a single ailing mother struggling to raise three of her malnourished children in the indigent slums of Africa is focused on the next meal; No wonder the sex workers of downtown Philippians flush their consciousness and trade their bodies to see the light of the next day. A dying man, an unwell woman, an indebted farmer, an impoverished mother, a hungry child, a jobless youngster, an exhausted soldier, and a bone-tired refugee, each one of them has far more urgent and unique problems than Chinese aggression and Global Warming and Hyper-nationalism. A hungry stomach only looks for food, it has neither the time nor the need to fret about the rise of Artificial Intelligence. An indebted farmer only desires for seasonal rainfalls, he does not trouble himself with the looming threat of a surveillance state. Likewise, a sex worker will only wish to earn enough money and to turn tail away from her traumatic lifestyle, she won’t brood over global warming or the quandary of world liberal order. And so, it goes for the countless men and women whose lives are pressed down by immediate need, whose urgent realities render the chessboard of global threats distant, almost meaningless.
As such, it is people like us, the readers and writers, the intelligentsias, and scholars, the journalists, and academicians, who must bear the responsibility to mull, talk, and write about global problems. We, the fortunate, with roofs above our heads, food on our plates, and the luxury of health and comfort, cannot turn away from the tumult that roils beyond our immediate sight and be ready to take the bull by its horns if need be.
Therefore, my agenda here is global. I’ve tried to look at all the major forces that mold societies all over the world, the forces that are likely to influence the future of both our planet and our species. I’ve tried to connect the concealed dots and reason out why a single mother dwelling in the slums of Africa must worry about germ-warfare; I’ve tried to elucidate why the refugees of west-Asia must brood over the rise of populists’ leaders and why the indebted farmer from Bangladesh or a jobless youngster in Mumbai must raise concerns about Climate change as the rising sea levels will soon besiege Mumbai and parts of Bangladesh underwater.
Reality is composed of countless paradoxes, and this book is an attempt to touch base on different strands of our global quandary, without being comprehensive. This book is not about one element, rather, a selection of lessons. Sparing no effort, I’ve tried not to give simple answers, rather, the chapters in this book intend to invigorate further thinking, and herald readers to participate in some of the global conversations of our time. Some chapters focus on religion, some on technology, most on politics, and a few on ethics; some honor human ingenuity whilst others accentuate human follies; some hail charismatic leaders whilst others rue about gigantic imbeciles. Nevertheless, throughout these pages, one question keeps the spirit of the book alive: What is transpiring in the world at present, and is it too late to change track?
And several vested questions compliment this book. How many more years can we afford to ignore Climate change? What is the rise of nationalistic leaders like Donald Trump, Jair Bolsonaro and Narendra Modi mean to liberal democracy? Can the world handle another pandemic? Will democracy succumb to Dragon’s (China) noxious smite? Can walls, dikes, or embankments hold back floods, storms, and rising seas, or are we building defences against inevitabilities? Is terrorism the true existential threat, or is it mass inequality, ecological destruction, and resource scarcity that will determine the fate of humanity? How long will societies allow myths, propaganda, and tribal ideologies to dictate policy and moral judgment? Will governments exploit crises — pandemic, economic, or political — to entrench permanent surveillance and restrict freedoms? Are the specters of 20th-century fascism and dictatorship finding new life in algorithmic control, AI policing, and robotic enforcement? How much personal data will corporations harvest before privacy is entirely erased? What will spark the next World War? Are we heading towards a new world order? How much is too much?
While the world cheers for artificial intelligence, lauds surveillance, clings to comforting myths, and wagers on weapons of mass destruction, it falls to philosophers, sociologists, historians, political analysts, and rebels like me to sound the alarm and explain all the ways things could appallingly go wrong. As such, this book is an earnest attempt to dwell not only on the problems of the present era but also an ambitious endeavour from a rebellious young maverick to gauge and fathom the meaning of life and the future of Homo Sapiens.
A colossal explosion in Indonesia sent up titanic blankets of ash, fume, and rubbles that engulfed almost all of Earth. Spewing thousands of tons of ash into the atmosphere, the Toba eruption created a decade-long volcanic winter, leading to a monumental die-off of flora and the end of some species. The eruption was so violent, the ramifications so unprecedented, and the death toll so prolific, so much so that it is ranked as the most powerful volcanic event in the last twenty-five million years. Large swaths of lands in Malaysia, India, and west-Asia were smothered by volcanic slag up to thirty feet thick. The noxious smoke and debris then gingerly sailed over Africa, leaving behind a trail of obliteration and death in its wake. The brutality of the event was so extreme that some believe that it shrunk the global human population to just a few thousand survivors.1
Take a moment and imagine the kind of pandemonium caused by this calamitous event. Our forefathers would have been terrorized by the parching heat, unrivaled loss of their brethren, and terrified by the sight of clouds of gray ash obscuring the sun. Thick coom and dust strangled and poisoned people irrespective of their credentials. For a thousand years after the Toba volcano fumed with rage, the temperature plunged causing a volcanic winter.2 Flora and fauna died off at a colossal rate, leaving behind a gloomy, barren landscape. Our ancestors were left with no choice but to rummage the ravaged terrain for minuscule scraps of edibles; Most died of starvation; Cannibalism thrived, and it looked like the perfect illustration of a dystopian society. The fortunate lot who survived had but one purpose: to survive; to flee as far away as they could from the shackles of death that prevailed on their good, warm, once-pleasant Earth.
Today, as humanity peers anxiously into the present and the uncertain future, it becomes impossible to ignore that the ordeal faced seventy-five millennia ago may well serve as a grim foreshadowing of catastrophes yet to come. Any reasonable mind would admit, if only with reluctance, that the extinction of life on Earth is not a question of if, but when. The ledger of natural history leaves no ambiguity: of all the forms of life that have graced this planet — creatures that crawled upon trees, swam through oceans, soared across skies, or flourished in dense jungles — more than 99.99 per cent have vanished forever. From the dinosaurs that once shook the ground beneath them to the whales that glide through the seas, from the bacteria to the towering forests, nearly all have passed into silence. We don’t need a time machine to validate this fact. Dig beneath your feet into the smeary soil and you’ll excavate a plethora of fossils, substantiating the extinction of several ancient living entities on Earth. As bitter as it might seem, the truth is that deterioration and extinction are the norms of life. The story of life is that living things appear and evolve on Earth, relish the rays of the sun and the gushing wind on their bones, and then wither and eventually succumb to death.
Such will be our fate. However tenderly we may revere the sea breeze that greets us in the morning, the crisp gust of air that brushes against the skin, or the splendour of mountains outlined against the sky, there will come a day — a day as unremarkable in its arrival as the setting of the sun, and yet monumental in its consequence — when the Earth itself will turn against us, and life in all its forms will vanish.
Until now, the greatest trials imposed upon humanity were authored by nature’s hand alone. I think of the five great extinctions that swept across this planet, obliterating nearly all life, leaving only the faint traces of what once was. These were calamities we neither invited nor resisted; they were dictated by the indifference of tectonic plates, the violence of volcanoes, the whim of climate, or the random cruelty of a rock hurtling from space. Civilisations had no part in these convulsions of the Earth. They struck without appeal, and those who lived in their path were reduced to dust.
In the 21st century, however, for the first time in the history of Homo Sapiens, we are about to encounter several threats at once due not because of nature, but of our own incongruity and imprudence.
We are facing and will face the ramifications of global warming, engineered by human greed and short-sightedness. We are burning the planet with an almost gleeful recklessness, pumping carbon into the atmosphere, draining aquifers, razing forests, and melting glaciers, all while our political leaders’ posture and prevaricate
We are standing on the precipice of biological warfare, where advances in biotechnology, rather than being harnessed solely for human health, are increasingly drawn into the calculus of military strategy. The day is coming when engineered pathogens — far more lethal than any natural disease — could be unleashed, carrying the capacity to annihilate the overwhelming majority of humanity in a matter of weeks.
We are gambling with Artificial Intelligence, a technology of staggering potential, yet one pursued without restraint or global governance. Already it threatens to displace hundreds of millions of workers, corroding the dignity of labour and widening inequality, while at a deeper level it challenges the very essence of what it means to be human — to feel, to think, to imagine, to love, and to create. To build machines that surpass us without first understanding what makes us who we are is the height of hubris.
We are succumbing to the siren call of hyper-nationalism, a disease of the modern world as toxic as the plagues of the past. In country after country, leaders stoke hatred, discrimination, and tribal politics, replacing cooperation with suspicion, and solidarity with exclusion. This path leads only to conflict, division, and ultimately war.
We are still shackled by myths and seductive falsehoods, and it is infuriating to witness the degree to which intelligent people allow themselves to be deceived. These are stories so old, so thoroughly disproven by evidence, yet they are wielded as weapons to justify cruelty, ignorance, and intolerance. Religions, fables, and parables that once guided human understanding now serve as chains around the mind, clouding judgment, rationality, and moral clarity.
We are sleepwalking into a surveillance state, where governments and corporations, armed with unprecedented digital tools, can monitor, manipulate, and suppress individuals at a scale once unimaginable.
And we are confronted with the strategic ambitions of a rising China, whose model of authoritarian governance and global dominance threatens to uproot the fragile liberal order painstakingly built after the Second World War. In its bid for power, China recalls both the imperial conquests of the sixteenth century and the totalitarian nightmares of the twentieth, seeking to impose a one-party order not just at home but, in time, abroad.
The challenges in the present era are many. The likelihood of each of the seven threats rupturing into a full-blown catastrophe is high. Even if we manage to dodge some of the threats I’ve outlined, the remaining dangers will inevitably grow with a force that will overwhelm everything else. In practical terms, even if we master Artificial Intelligence, curb the spread of irrational mythologies, restrain hyper-nationalism, and block China’s expansionist ambitions, climate change alone is capable of inflicting partial — or even total — collapse. Conversely, if we stabilize the climate but fail to contain the rise of hyper-nationalists, we can expect leaders intoxicated by ego and ideology to exploit lethal instruments such as autonomous AI weapons, engineered pathogens, nuclear arsenals to impose their will on neighbours, heedless of human suffering. And if we manage both climate and nationalism, yet underestimate China, we risk watching the Chinese Communist Party continue its domestic oppression, expand its influence abroad through debt diplomacy, surveillance, and strategic use of advanced technologies, while simultaneously preparing for a global projection of power that recalls the ambitions of colonial empires and twentieth-century dictatorships alike. The point is unavoidable: these crises are deeply interconnected. Addressing one while ignoring the others is an illusion of safety; in the real world, partial solutions are often worse than none.
Even as we survey the interlocking crises of our era, it becomes clear that understanding their full scope requires more than mere acknowledgment; it demands careful attention, critical thinking, and moral clarity. In this book, I intend to focus precisely on that — the immediate effects these challenges have on human societies and the decisions we must confront today. What is unfolding before our eyes, and where should we concentrate our efforts if we hope to avert catastrophe? Which threats require our utmost vigilance, and what choices will determine whether we flourish or falter as a species? Who among us can act as a catalyst for change, and who represents a danger we cannot ignore? What kind of inheritance are we preparing for the next generation, and which of our actions — or inactions — will history judge most harshly? Above all, who truly suffers in this landscape of crises, where misfortune and power collide in unequal measure, and where clarity of thought and courage of action are the only antidotes to the chaos we face?
7.9 billion people are inhabiting the world as I write this book. That accounts for 7.9 billion dreams, 7.9 billion moments, 7.9 billion threats, and 7.9 billion agendas. Naturally, not all the 7.9 billion people would want to think of the bigger picture. Perceiving the world, as one entity, perceiving it not as fragmented societies and detached countries on maps, rather seeing it from a holistic lens is relatively a rare trait. In other words, thinking collectively is no leisurely picnic in a sunlit meadow; it is to trudge through a forest of thorns, over rocks sharpened by centuries, past ravines that yawn like hungry mouths, all the while keeping your eyes fixed on a distant summit few have the courage — or the patience — to reach.
No wonder a marginal farmer in the outskirts of Tamil Nadu is focused on a good yield to pay back his borrowed loans; No wonder the refugees who fled away from war-ravaged nations looks out for safe lands to survive; No wonder a single ailing mother struggling to raise three of her malnourished children in the indigent slums of Africa is focused on the next meal; No wonder the sex workers of downtown Philippians flush their consciousness and trade their bodies to see the light of the next day. A dying man, an unwell woman, an indebted farmer, an impoverished mother, a hungry child, a jobless youngster, an exhausted soldier, and a bone-tired refugee, each one of them has far more urgent and unique problems than Chinese aggression and Global Warming and Hyper-nationalism. A hungry stomach only looks for food, it has neither the time nor the need to fret about the rise of Artificial Intelligence. An indebted farmer only desires for seasonal rainfalls, he does not trouble himself with the looming threat of a surveillance state. Likewise, a sex worker will only wish to earn enough money and to turn tail away from her traumatic lifestyle, she won’t brood over global warming or the quandary of world liberal order. And so, it goes for the countless men and women whose lives are pressed down by immediate need, whose urgent realities render the chessboard of global threats distant, almost meaningless.
As such, it is people like us, the readers and writers, the intelligentsias, and scholars, the journalists, and academicians, who must bear the responsibility to mull, talk, and write about global problems. We, the fortunate, with roofs above our heads, food on our plates, and the luxury of health and comfort, cannot turn away from the tumult that roils beyond our immediate sight and be ready to take the bull by its horns if need be.
Therefore, my agenda here is global. I’ve tried to look at all the major forces that mold societies all over the world, the forces that are likely to influence the future of both our planet and our species. I’ve tried to connect the concealed dots and reason out why a single mother dwelling in the slums of Africa must worry about germ-warfare; I’ve tried to elucidate why the refugees of west-Asia must brood over the rise of populists’ leaders and why the indebted farmer from Bangladesh or a jobless youngster in Mumbai must raise concerns about Climate change as the rising sea levels will soon besiege Mumbai and parts of Bangladesh underwater.
Reality is composed of countless paradoxes, and this book is an attempt to touch base on different strands of our global quandary, without being comprehensive. This book is not about one element, rather, a selection of lessons. Sparing no effort, I’ve tried not to give simple answers, rather, the chapters in this book intend to invigorate further thinking, and herald readers to participate in some of the global conversations of our time. Some chapters focus on religion, some on technology, most on politics, and a few on ethics; some honor human ingenuity whilst others accentuate human follies; some hail charismatic leaders whilst others rue about gigantic imbeciles. Nevertheless, throughout these pages, one question keeps the spirit of the book alive: What is transpiring in the world at present, and is it too late to change track?
And several vested questions compliment this book. How many more years can we afford to ignore Climate change? What is the rise of nationalistic leaders like Donald Trump, Jair Bolsonaro and Narendra Modi mean to liberal democracy? Can the world handle another pandemic? Will democracy succumb to Dragon’s (China) noxious smite? Can walls, dikes, or embankments hold back floods, storms, and rising seas, or are we building defences against inevitabilities? Is terrorism the true existential threat, or is it mass inequality, ecological destruction, and resource scarcity that will determine the fate of humanity? How long will societies allow myths, propaganda, and tribal ideologies to dictate policy and moral judgment? Will governments exploit crises — pandemic, economic, or political — to entrench permanent surveillance and restrict freedoms? Are the specters of 20th-century fascism and dictatorship finding new life in algorithmic control, AI policing, and robotic enforcement? How much personal data will corporations harvest before privacy is entirely erased? What will spark the next World War? Are we heading towards a new world order? How much is too much?
While the world cheers for artificial intelligence, lauds surveillance, clings to comforting myths, and wagers on weapons of mass destruction, it falls to philosophers, sociologists, historians, political analysts, and rebels like me to sound the alarm and explain all the ways things could appallingly go wrong. As such, this book is an earnest attempt to dwell not only on the problems of the present era but also an ambitious endeavour from a rebellious young maverick to gauge and fathom the meaning of life and the future of Homo Sapiens.
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