In all likelihood, you haven’t thought much about this question. Even after watching The Matrix, you were probably unreflective. It will surprise you, then, that more and more people are pondering it every day, philosophers and cosmologists included. To me, the question is nontrivial. It gives rise to no anxiety; I just find the pros and cons fascinating.
The first person I know of who took it seriously was Rene Descartes. Way back in 1637, in his treatise Discourse on the Method (the short form of a mile-long title), he asserted, “Cogito ergo sum—I think, therefore I am.” He proudly supposed he had demonstrated his reality; that is, his existence. All well and good for a first try, but not at all convincing when I think about it. Consider this. If we’re merely characters in an immense simulation of reality, why shouldn’t our thoughts be simulated along with our homes, our cars, our friends, the Earth, the laws of physics, the entire cosmos, and Donald Trump? Any reason for thoughts to be exempt? No.
Some 80 years after Descartes, George Berkeley, an Irish bishop, promoted a radically different idea. He held that nothing was real other than mind. Material objects, our bodies included, were nothing but immaterial perceptions in our minds and in God’s. The problem with this is, Berkeley didn’t go far enough. Why are our minds even needed in his scheme of things? Why can’t they also be an idea in God’s mind? The logical end point of Berkeley’s thinking is a god who’s sitting in front of a stupendous IMAX screen, directing thoughts and actions. From there, it’s just a small hop to the realization that this god can be replaced by a group of hyper-intelligent beings who are simulating our cosmos. They and the IMAX god are exact equivalents. And in neither case is morality a reality. It’s merely one of many constructs within the projection/simulation.
Bringing superbeings into the discussion has its problems. For one thing, their work looks to be gratuitously complex. The laws of physics don’t seem to fit together. They may be unified on some undiscovered level, but why simulate something that appears chaotic? Another vexation is one that has occupied thinkers for millennia: the problems of suffering and horror. Is it really necessary for a simulation to contain huge helpings of both? Couldn’t the superbeings have done a more compassionate job? Sure they could have, if they gave a rat’s ass about us. But no, when you put on a play, the main thing is maximizing its entertainment value.
Ultimately, it’s our susceptibility to illusion that makes the possibility of simulated existence unimaginable. Magicians rely on this susceptibility; it’s their bread and butter. Sell a winning lottery ticket to a guy in Chipmunk, Oklahoma, and he creates an illusion on the spot. He believes his $100 million win is destiny. What about the people who win many times? They are fate’s favorites.
Tick through the millennia of human history and count the illusions. Gods control the elements of nature. Worship enhances our odds of survival. One god is all-powerful. We are made in that god’s image. We have a soul and a special place among living things. God sent us a flesh and blood son who is our ticket to eternal life in paradise. Virgins await virtuous men in heaven. (Nothing for women.) Illness is caused by demonic possession or by an imbalance of body fluids. Everything consists of earth, water, air, and fire. The Earth is the center of the universe. Gravity is a force of attraction. Time is a constant. Still intact, for the time being, are the Big Two: free will exists, and consciousness is real. They just have to be genuine, right?
OK, maybe we should draw a line there; maybe we’re real after all. If so, there’s another important reality to consider. Take a look around and notice the multitude of people—especially young ones—who are completely entranced by game-playing on computers of all types and sizes. They are so fixated, they are oblivious to an oncoming bus. Simulations of warfare and car racing seem to be especially popular, but a much richer kind of simulation is on the horizon. It’s called virtual reality. You can take a trip to Paris or Tahiti, all in your head, or travel to an alien landscape with violet skies, lit by two suns. Clearly, experiencing a simulated world is our cup of tea.
I’ll go so far as to offer a hypothesis: The more intelligent we become—from gene editing and high tech implants—the greater our propensity to entertain ourselves with more and more daring simulations, and the greater our expertise at creating them. In 10,000 years or so, assuming we don’t annihilate ourselves, we should be able to enjoy simulations of our own private cosmos, and the creatures that inhabit it won’t be aware of us at all.
The Scratching Post 