I think it is very important to ponder this question. I know we may be some of the first technological civilisations in our galaxy, and nothing yet rules out anything.

But as of right now, Kardashev III civilisations seem unlikely. Do you think it's just never worth it to reach such a state of noise at the galactic level, or is there something that's stopping everyone else from doing so?

Assuming the answer is a great filter(s), I believe we need to discuss this in case we may be able to save ourselves and become one of the very lucky civilisations to become an outlier and survive for longer than average.

Taking into account our current capabilities in terms of SETI, is there any hope at all that we could detect anything artificial from that planet in two scenarios (plus some other questions):

- First scenario: more than 1.500 years ago, they had already developed radio telescopes and were able to look at our atmosphere and determine that there is life here. What would this say about their technology? Are we able to detect our own planet in terms of biosignatures if it were 1,500 light-years away? Would we know, in the present, be able to detect any radio signals that they may have been continuously sending (maybe sporadically) from their home planet?

- Second scenario: they never cared about us or never found out about our planet. But they did develop powerful planetary radar and maybe even some "primitive" Dyson swarm. Would we be able to detect the Dyson swarm? And if the Dyson swarm was made of components that interacted with each other and those communications caused radio leakage, could we detect them if we knew something weird was going on with the star and decided to point our telescope in search of radio signals?

Taking into account our current capabilities in terms of SETI, is there any hope at all that we could detect anything artificial from that planet in two scenarios (plus some other questions):

- First scenario: more than 1.500 years ago, they had already developed radio telescopes and were able to look at our atmosphere and determine that there is life here. What would this say about their technology? Are we able to detect our own planet in terms of biosignatures if it were 1,500 light-years away? Would we know, in the present, be able to detect any radio signals that they may have been continuously sending (maybe sporadically) from their home planet?

- Second scenario: they never cared about us or never found out about our planet. But they did develop powerful planetary radar and maybe even some "primitive" Dyson swarm. Would we be able to detect the Dyson swarm? And if the Dyson swarm was made of components that interacted with each other and those communications caused radio leakage, could we detect them if we knew something weird was going on with the star and decided to point our telescope in search of radio signals?

Taking into account our current capabilities in terms of SETI, is there any hope at all that we could detect anything artificial from that planet in two scenarios (plus some other questions):

- First scenario: more than 1.500 years ago, they had already developed radio telescopes and were able to look at our atmosphere and determine that there is life here. What would this say about their technology? Are we able to detect our own planet in terms of biosignatures if it were 1,500 light-years away? Would we know, in the present, be able to detect any radio signals that they may have been continuously sending (maybe sporadically) from their home planet?

- Second scenario: they never cared about us or never found out about our planet. But they did develop powerful planetary radar and maybe even some "primitive" Dyson swarm. Would we be able to detect the Dyson swarm? And if the Dyson swarm was made of components that interacted with each other and those communications caused radio leakage, could we detect them if we knew something weird was going on with the star and decided to point our telescope in search of radio signals?

Taking into account our current capabilities in terms of SETI, is there any hope at all that we could detect anything artificial from that planet in two scenarios (plus some other questions):

- First scenario: more than 1.500 years ago, they had already developed radio telescopes and were able to look at our atmosphere and determine that there is life here. What would this say about their technology? Are we able to detect our own planet in terms of biosignatures if it were 1,500 light-years away? Would we, in the present, be able to detect any radio signals that they may have been continuously sending (maybe sporadically) from their home planet?

- Second scenario: they never cared about us or never found out about our planet. But they did develop powerful planetary radar and maybe even some "primitive" Dyson swarm. Would we be able to detect the Dyson swarm? And if the Dyson swarm was made of components that interacted with each other and those communications caused radio leakage, could we detect them if we knew something weird was going on with the star and decided to point our telescope in search of radio signals?

Taking into account our current capabilities in terms of SETI, is there any hope at all that we could detect anything artificial from that planet in two scenarios (plus some other questions):

- First scenario: more than 1.500 years ago, they had already developed radio telescopes and were able to look at our atmosphere and determine that there is life here. What would this say about their technology? Are we able to detect our own planet in terms of biosignatures if it were 1,500 light-years away? Would we now, in the present, be able to detect any radio signals that they may have been continuously sending (maybe sporadically) from their home planet?

- Second scenario: they never cared about us or never found out about our planet. But they did develop powerful planetary radar and maybe even some "primitive" Dyson swarm. Would we be able to detect the Dyson swarm? And if the Dyson swarm was made of components that interacted with each other and those communications caused radio leakage, could we detect them if we knew something weird was going on with the star and decided to point our telescope in search of radio signals?

But what if the ultimate "Great Filter" is actually a breakthrough in understanding the nature of reality itself?

Imagine a civilisation that finally reaches a technological or cognitive threshold, where it deciphers the "source code" of existence. They prove empirically that our universe is either a simulation, a lower-dimensional projection, or a stepping stone to a vastly superior, higher reality.

To use Plato’s Allegory of the Cave—or a modern equivalent, The Truman Show—once you realise you are living inside a shadow play or a set, your desire to explore the "cave" completely evaporates. Why build generational starships to travel thousands of light-years across a cold, material vacuum if you've found the exit door to the actual, higher-order reality?

Once a species achieves this level of self-awareness, they change as individuals and as a society overnight. To them, physical space travel, resource mining, and interstellar empires become utterly obsolete. It would be like an animal suddenly gaining human-level self-awareness; it would completely break its previous operational paradigm.

To be clear, this doesn’t mean every single alien race graduates at the same time. We might still detect "primitive" or mid-tier civilisations that are still trapped in the material mindset. These species might build Dyson swarms, launch Von Neumann probes, or establish small colonies in nearby star systems. But they are essentially just decorating the cave. The reason we don't see truly massive, galaxy-spanning Kardashev Type III civilisations is that once a species becomes advanced enough to colonise an entire galaxy, they inevitably discover the exit door.

By this definition, humanity isn't truly "self-aware" yet. We are still primitives trying to optimise our lives inside the cave, assuming the universe is all there is.

Could the silence of the cosmos simply be because every civilisation that gets advanced enough eventually realises what this is all about, packs up, and leaves the material universe behind?

I’ve been thinking about the Fermi Paradox from a cognitive and existential evolution standpoint. Most of our solutions assume that an advanced civilisation will retain the same fundamental drives we have: exploring physical space, gathering material resources, and colonizing the stars.

But what if the ultimate "Great Filter" is actually a breakthrough in understanding the nature of reality itself?

Imagine a civilisation that finally reaches a technological or cognitive threshold, where it deciphers the "source code" of existence. They prove empirically that our universe is either a simulation, a lower-dimensional projection, or a stepping stone to a vastly superior, higher reality.

To use Plato’s Allegory of the Cave—or a modern equivalent, The Truman Show—once you realise you are living inside a shadow play or a set, your desire to explore the "cave" completely evaporates. Why build generational starships to travel thousands of light-years across a cold, material vacuum if you've found the exit door to the actual, higher-order reality?

Once a species achieves this level of self-awareness, they change as individuals and as a society overnight. To them, physical space travel, resource mining, and interstellar empires become utterly obsolete. It would be like an animal suddenly gaining human-level self-awareness; it would completely break its previous operational paradigm.

To be clear, this doesn’t mean every single alien race graduates at the same time. We might still detect "primitive" or mid-tier civilisations that are still trapped in the material mindset. These species might build Dyson swarms, launch Von Neumann probes, or establish small colonies in nearby star systems. But they are essentially just decorating the cave. The reason we don't see truly massive, galaxy-spanning Kardashev Type III civilisations is that once a species becomes advanced enough to colonise an entire galaxy, they inevitably discover the exit door.

By this definition, humanity isn't truly "self-aware" yet. We are still primitives trying to optimise our lives inside the cave, assuming the universe is all there is.

Could the silence of the cosmos simply be because every civilisation that gets advanced enough eventually realises what this is all about, packs up, and leaves the material universe behind?

Let’s assume intelligent alien life exists, but it’s incredibly rare. Over billions of years, maybe a few civilisations beat the odds and survive long enough to face the ultimate expiration date: their own dying star. While most doomed civilisations probably fail to escape and go extinct, imagine one specific species that gets incredibly lucky. They aren't in an isolated corner of the galaxy like us—where our closest neighbour is four light-years away—but rather in a dense stellar cluster where habitable systems are practically next door. If they had the technology for sublight (maybe 20-40% the speed of light) interstellar travel, escaping to a nearby star system could be a feasible strategy.

How do you think a civilisation would actually plan a desperate migration like that? For starters, would they even attempt to move their entire population, or would it realistically just be a tiny, genetically diverse fraction of their society sent off on generation ships? It's hard to imagine the logistics of moving billions of citizens across space, meaning the vast majority would likely be left behind to face their doom, right? Unless, of course, they were extremely advanced, but I am not talking about those cases.

To make the scenario even crazier, what if they finally arrive at their new home only to find it's already occupied? Imagine the destination planet already has its own intelligent, but not yet technological, species. Even though the odds of two intelligent species popping up right next to each other are astronomically low, how do you think the refugees would handle it? Would they peacefully co-exist, quarantine themselves, or would the desperation to survive drive them to colonise and displace the locals? What are your thoughts on how this would realistically play out? Final question: Do you think it may have already happened once in the entire history of the universe? Will we ever face such a scenario when our star starts dying out? Would red dwarf systems be "attractive" for their long longevity?

Let’s assume intelligent alien life exists, but it’s incredibly rare. Over billions of years, maybe a few civilisations beat the odds and survive long enough to face the ultimate expiration date: their own dying star. While most doomed civilisations probably fail to escape and go extinct, imagine one specific species that gets incredibly lucky. They aren't in an isolated corner of the galaxy like us—where our closest neighbour is four light-years away—but rather in a dense stellar cluster where habitable systems are practically next door. If they had the technology for sublight (maybe 20-40% the speed of light) interstellar travel, escaping to a nearby star system could be a feasible strategy.

How do you think a civilisation would actually plan a desperate migration like that? For starters, would they even attempt to move their entire population, or would it realistically just be a tiny, genetically diverse fraction of their society sent off on generation ships? It's hard to imagine the logistics of moving billions of citizens across space, meaning the vast majority would likely be left behind to face their doom, right? Unless, of course, they were extremely advanced, but I am not talking about those cases.

To make the scenario even crazier, what if they finally arrive at their new home only to find it's already occupied? Imagine the destination planet already has its own intelligent, but not yet technological, species. Even though the odds of two intelligent species popping up right next to each other are astronomically low, how do you think the refugees would handle it? Would they peacefully co-exist, quarantine themselves, or would the desperation to survive drive them to colonise and displace the locals? What are your thoughts on how this would realistically play out? Final question: Do you think it may have already happened once in the entire history of the universe? Will we ever face such a scenario when our star starts dying out? Would red dwarf systems be "attractive" for their longevity?

Let’s assume intelligent alien life exists, but it’s incredibly rare. Over billions of years, maybe a few civilisations beat the odds and survive long enough to face the ultimate expiration date: their own dying star. While most doomed civilisations probably fail to escape and go extinct, imagine one specific species that gets incredibly lucky. They aren't in an isolated corner of the galaxy like us—where our closest neighbour is four light-years away—but rather in a dense stellar cluster where habitable systems are practically next door. If they had the technology for sublight (maybe 20-40% the speed of light) interstellar travel, escaping to a nearby star system could be a feasible strategy.

How do you think a civilisation would actually plan a desperate migration like that? For starters, would they even attempt to move their entire population, or would it realistically just be a tiny, genetically diverse fraction of their society sent off on generation ships? It's hard to imagine the logistics of moving billions of citizens across space, meaning the vast majority would likely be left behind to face their doom, right? Unless, of course, they were extremely advanced, but I am not talking about those cases.

To make the scenario even crazier, what if they finally arrive at their new home only to find it's already occupied? Imagine the destination planet already has its own intelligent, but not yet technological, species. Even though the odds of two intelligent species popping up right next to each other are astronomically low, how do you think the refugees would handle it? Would they peacefully co-exist, quarantine themselves, or would the desperation to survive drive them to colonise and displace the locals? What are your thoughts on how this would realistically play out? Final question: Do you think it may have already happened once in the entire history of the universe? Will we ever face such a scenario when our star starts dying out? Would red dwarf systems be "attractive" for their long longevity?

We have an official cover page. I tried copying it and then pasting it in my academic paper, but the issue is that the cover page includes both a design (as in images) and also text (that I have to modify, for example, "title" and "name"). When I just paste it, it becomes a small image. It doesn't cover the entire page. I tried removing margins, but I need to try fitting the cover page myself. Even then, the text sections become incoherent and no longer fit with the design itself. What am I supposed to do? First, I should finish the entire thing, then merge the academic paper with the cover page, both in PDF?

https://preview.redd.it/r3mcu3u0py2h1.png?width=1180&format=png&auto=webp&s=140aea07cba4d858676c5bfa05bcc1dc2381f0b3

https://preview.redd.it/slyipx12py2h1.png?width=1113&format=png&auto=webp&s=a1c01e9a82faeb0f1e4d8a478f41fc7f44ec55b1

Imagine that humanity somehow acquires highly credible, empirically grounded information about a civilization that became technological around 3 billion years ago and still exists somewhere between 15,000 and 50,000 light-years away. They are extraordinarily advanced by our standards, but still recognizably bound by physical limits rather than possessing unlimited power or galaxy-spanning control. In fact, one of the deepest implications of this information is that Type III Kardashev civilizations simply do not exist in our universe, at least not yet. Even the oldest surviving species in the galaxy still seems entirely constrained by distance, time, energy, logistics, and survival itself. This civilization just had an impossible, massive head start.

They emerged extremely early in cosmic history, in a region where stars and habitable worlds were much more densely packed than they are around us. Life itself also appears to be extraordinarily common in the universe (just baseline chemistry given enough time). When their original star began dying, they survived because another habitable system existed only around 2 light-years away from them. They migrated there and, intentionally or not, caused the greatest mass extinction event that planet had ever experienced. Entire branches of life disappeared permanently. Some of those native species may already have possessed non-technological intelligence comparable to whales, octopuses, or something beyond either. What matters is that they chose their own survival over coexistence or at least didn't care that much about causing the extinction (they had a choice).

Strangely, though, they are not expansionist in the way science fiction usually imagines ancient civilizations. Over billions of years, they have explored only a few dozen nearby systems, focusing on extending their species but also on extracting resources and studying viable options of terraforming (which seems to be their greatest and most important scientific field). And despite being unimaginably advanced compared to us, they follow an extreme form of non-interventionism. They do not contact civilizations confined to their own solar systems. They do not uplift younger species, and they do not interfere even when another civilization is facing total extinction.

The reason for this silence does not appear to be guilt over the biosphere they destroyed during their ancient migration. According to the information humanity received, at some point in their past they became aware of something else. It was some event, pattern, discovery, or inherited knowledge suggesting that direct contact between civilizations can end catastrophically in ways far worse than ordinary war or conquest. It wasn't necessarily something that happened to them personally; it was possibly something they learned from the remnants of another civilization long gone. Whatever it was, it shaped their entire philosophy permanently. Even when they do interact with civilizations approaching interstellar capability, they avoid physical contact entirely. Diplomacy exists, but only as data exchanged at a distance.

There is also a fascinating ideological detail to them. Because they formed so early after the big bang, survived the death of their own star, and benefited from a chain of statistical luck almost impossible to repeat, they developed a kind of civilizational “chosen people” mentality. It isn't genocidal or openly hostile, but they are deeply, quietly convinced that their survival carries ultimate cosmic significance.

And here is the important part: they do not know humanity exists. We have been technological for barely a century. A civilization that old cannot continuously monitor every single world in the galaxy, and species at our stage are beneath the threshold they care to look for. But now, imagine humanity knows about them on the basis of real and verified knowledge. We know all this information I wrote down here and the fact that they are likely the oldest technological civilisation still alive in the Milky Way.

So, how should we react? Do we transmit a message toward them, knowing they will easily survive long enough to eventually receive it? Or do we deliberately remain silent because civilisations that ancient understand structural dangers about the universe that we cannot even conceptualise yet? Do we accept this "status quo"? Do we just focus on contacting other civilisations closer to us in terms of technology now that we know life is extremely common? Do you think the wise think would be ignoring this "grandfather" figure of the galaxy?

I know this sounds absurdly specific. Yes, I’m aware of that, but just bear with me for a moment. Imagine that humanity somehow acquires highly credible information about a civilization that became technological around 3 billion years ago and still exists somewhere between 15,000 and 50,000 light-years away. They are extraordinarily advanced by our standards, but still recognizably bound by physical limits rather than possessing unlimited power or galaxy-spanning control. In fact, one of the deepest implications of this information is that Type III Kardashev civilizations simply do not exist in our universe, at least not yet. Even the oldest surviving species in the galaxy still seems entirely constrained by distance, time, energy, logistics, and survival itself. This civilization just had an impossible, massive head start.

They emerged extremely early in cosmic history, in a region where stars and habitable worlds were much more densely packed than they are around us. Life itself also appears to be extraordinarily common in the universe (just baseline chemistry given enough time). When their original star began dying, they survived because another habitable system existed only around 2 light-years away from them. They migrated there and, intentionally or not, caused the greatest mass extinction event that planet had ever experienced. Entire branches of life disappeared permanently. Some of those native species may already have possessed non-technological intelligence comparable to whales, octopuses, or something beyond either. What matters is that they chose their own survival over coexistence or at least didn't care that much about causing the extinction (they had a choice).

Strangely, though, they are not expansionist in the way science fiction usually imagines ancient civilizations. Over billions of years, they have explored only a few dozen nearby systems, focusing on extending their species but also on extracting resources and studying viable options of terraforming (which seems to be their greatest and most important scientific field). And despite being unimaginably advanced compared to us, they follow an extreme form of non-interventionism. They do not contact civilizations confined to their own solar systems. They do not uplift younger species, and they do not interfere even when another civilization is facing total extinction.

The reason for this silence does not appear to be guilt over the biosphere they destroyed during their ancient migration. According to the information humanity received, at some point in their past they became aware of something else. It was some event, pattern, discovery, or inherited knowledge suggesting that direct contact between civilizations can end catastrophically in ways far worse than ordinary war or conquest. It wasn't necessarily something that happened to them personally; it was possibly something they learned from the remnants of another civilization long gone. Whatever it was, it shaped their entire philosophy permanently. Even when they do interact with civilizations approaching interstellar capability, they avoid physical contact entirely. Diplomacy exists, but only as data exchanged at a distance.

There is also a fascinating ideological detail to them. Because they formed so early after the big bang, survived the death of their own star, and benefited from a chain of statistical luck almost impossible to repeat, they developed a kind of civilizational “chosen people” mentality. It isn't genocidal or openly hostile, but they are deeply, quietly convinced that their survival carries ultimate cosmic significance.

And here is the important part: they do not know humanity exists. We have been technological for barely a century. A civilization that old cannot continuously monitor every single world in the galaxy, and species at our stage are beneath the threshold they care to look for. But now, imagine humanity knows about them on the basis of real and verified knowledge. We know all this information I wrote down here and the fact that they are likely the oldest technological civilisation still alive in the Milky Way.

So, how should we react? Do we transmit a message toward them, knowing they will easily survive long enough to eventually receive it? Or do we deliberately remain silent because civilisations that ancient understand structural dangers about the universe that we cannot even conceptualise yet? Do we accept this "status quo"? Do we just focus on contacting other civilisations closer to us in terms of technology now that we know life is extremely common? Do you think the wise thing would be to ignore this "grandfather" figure of the galaxy?

I know this sounds absurdly specific. Yes, I’m aware of that, but just bear with me for a moment. Imagine that humanity somehow acquires highly credible information about a civilization that became technological around 3 billion years ago and still exists somewhere between 15,000 and 50,000 light-years away. They are extraordinarily advanced by our standards, but still recognizably bound by physical limits rather than possessing unlimited power or galaxy-spanning control. In fact, one of the deepest implications of this information is that Type III Kardashev civilizations simply do not exist in our universe, at least not yet. Even the oldest surviving species in the galaxy still seems entirely constrained by distance, time, energy, logistics, and survival itself. This civilization just had an impossible, massive head start.

They emerged extremely early in cosmic history, in a region where stars and habitable worlds were much more densely packed than they are around us. Life itself also appears to be extraordinarily common in the universe (just baseline chemistry given enough time). When their original star began dying, they survived because another habitable system existed only around 2 light-years away from them. They migrated there and, intentionally or not, caused the greatest mass extinction event that planet had ever experienced. Entire branches of life disappeared permanently. Some of those native species may already have possessed non-technological intelligence comparable to whales, octopuses, or something beyond either. What matters is that they chose their own survival over coexistence or at least didn't care that much about causing the extinction (they had a choice).

Strangely, though, they are not expansionist in the way science fiction usually imagines ancient civilizations. Over billions of years, they have explored only a few dozen nearby systems, focusing on extending their species but also on extracting resources and studying viable options of terraforming (which seems to be their greatest and most important scientific field). And despite being unimaginably advanced compared to us, they follow an extreme form of non-interventionism. They do not contact civilizations confined to their own solar systems. They do not uplift younger species, and they do not interfere even when another civilization is facing total extinction.

The reason for this silence does not appear to be guilt over the biosphere they destroyed during their ancient migration. According to the information humanity received, at some point in their past they became aware of something else. It was some event, pattern, discovery, or inherited knowledge suggesting that direct contact between civilizations can end catastrophically in ways far worse than ordinary war or conquest. It wasn't necessarily something that happened to them personally; it was possibly something they learned from the remnants of another civilization long gone. Whatever it was, it shaped their entire philosophy permanently. Even when they do interact with civilizations approaching interstellar capability, they avoid physical contact entirely. Diplomacy exists, but only as data exchanged at a distance.

There is also a fascinating ideological detail to them. Because they formed so early after the big bang, survived the death of their own star, and benefited from a chain of statistical luck almost impossible to repeat, they developed a kind of civilizational “chosen people” mentality. It isn't genocidal or openly hostile, but they are deeply, quietly convinced that their survival carries ultimate cosmic significance.

And here is the important part: they do not know humanity exists. We have been technological for barely a century. A civilization that old cannot continuously monitor every single world in the galaxy, and species at our stage are beneath the threshold they care to look for. But now, imagine humanity knows about them on the basis of real and verified knowledge. We know all this information I wrote down here and the fact that they are likely the oldest technological civilisation still alive in the Milky Way.

So, how should we react? Do we transmit a message toward them, knowing they will easily survive long enough to eventually receive it? Or do we deliberately remain silent because civilisations that ancient understand structural dangers about the universe that we cannot even conceptualise yet? Do we accept this "status quo"? Do we just focus on contacting other civilisations closer to us in terms of technology now that we know life is extremely common? Do you think the wise think would be ignoring this "grandfather" figure of the galaxy?

I know it's already too late, and there is probably no possible solution. But I don't know, there is a part on me that still wants to try. Anyone had any experience like this? Where do I even start? It's too late because it's May... and the ERASMUS would be next year. Is there any other program I can try?

I know it's already too late, and there is probably no possible solution. But I don't know, there is a part on me that still wants to try. Anyone had any experience like this? Where do I even start? It's too late because it's May... and the ERASMUS would be next year. Is there any other program I can try?