Humanity has no purpose and does not need one.

The 1970s were incredibly exciting for scientists and engineers, as well as for many ordinary people who valued knowledge. My classmates and I devoured science fiction novels and stood in line at movie theaters to see films about space and new discoveries. I was equally intrigued by the past—I stood in line for Erich von Däniken's books, and his film "Testament of Youth" outsold detectives and action films worldwide. The Strugatsky brothers, Lem, Clarke, Asimov, Niven, Hamilton, Kubrick, Sheckley, and Heinlein… This was the era of almost all the major works of cinema and literature about the future, which was seen as a time of active human exploration of the universe and the search for our place in it. People were starting to think, and more importantly, they were starting to like it. Science fiction clubs were opening, and my father took me to lectures by physicists, astronomers, and alternative historians, some of which were given in the Hall of Columns! Chess games were broadcast on television—can you imagine that today? There was a demand for knowledge in society.

Of course, it didn't just happen. Apparently, back then, after the bloody war that engulfed the entire planet, some members of the political elite realized that it was time to abandon previous models of governance in order to preserve humanity.

Arthur C. Clarke, a great writer and thinker, began his novel "Fountains of Paradise" with a phrase from India's first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru. It could be seen as a sign of a shift in the development of civilization, a transition from outdated political and religious dogmas to a movement toward scientific progress and spiritual perfection.

"Politics and religion are outdated; the time has come for spirituality, the time for science."

Nehru was not the only political figure who believed that society should move forward by relying on science and spirituality; he had like-minded people, albeit few in number, and huge masses of people responded to this idea with enthusiasm, supporting the transition to a more rational and spiritually enriched worldview.

Thanks to these people, humanity, for the first time in its history, probably saw a vague, still unclear outline of its future, filled with optimism and faith in human potential.

Alas, romantics will never break the blunt force of the majority, focused solely on satisfying basic biological needs: dominating, eating, reproducing, and not thinking. This majority found its own politicians, who quickly realized that a thinking population would put an end to their power, so the bet had to be on idiots. And so, by the late 1960s, we witnessed a reversal—the drug revolution, the sexual revolution, the so-called liberation movements in various parts of the world. Naturally, they enlisted the help of "free" youth, with their enormous destructive potential and complete lack of desire to work. This wasn't just about Paris in 1968; it was also about the hippies, the Khmer Rouge, and the Red Guards—only a very simple-minded person could imagine that the coincidence of these movements' launches, literally within a month, was due to a mere coincidence. They brought religion into the mix, declared atheism offensive to the feelings of believers, and off it went: prayer places began to be built at a frantic pace, and atheist publications, which had previously been published even in the Middle East, disappeared even in Western countries.

Around the same time, major space programs were curtailed, and manned flights were abandoned in favor of decorative gatherings on the space station.

Thus ended the project that could have been called the project for a rational future for humanity. To reinforce this effect, a terribly vulgar idea of the meaning of life was implanted in the population's brains. I hear it regularly from all sorts of people: "The meaning of life is to live." It never occurs to them that the meaning of existence for hamsters, rabbits, gophers, and other representatives of the earth's fauna is exactly the same.

And now, two-legged hamsters happily trample the planet's surface, exchange photos of food, compete in buying junk, and shit in Antarctica and Everest. They measure the strength of the social order by the availability of sausages and other goods in stores; they have no other metrics.

When the Smart Future project was scrapped, a huge number of people lost their way. Personally, I attribute the collapse of the Soviet Union and the entire Eastern Bloc to this, not the fall in oil prices, for example. It's also the source of the current rapid decline of Europe and Africa, and the stagnation of the United States. Such is the logic of any process: there's a goal, there's a route, and there will be movement. And since none of those listed can imagine such a route, there's no point in talking about civilizational development. These countries have already transformed into a world governed not even by an idea, but by primitive propaganda.

Perhaps only China has not yet forgotten how to pronounce the word "humanity." Perhaps that's why it has a greater chance of progress than others, but even there, a limit will eventually be reached, caused by the conflict between rationality and the interests of certain government officials.

Human biology leaves no chance. Given the growing population, the level of critical thinking on the planet is constantly declining and will soon reach literally the margin of statistical error. There is a tiny hope for external control in the form of artificial intelligence, but it won't stand a chance.

I can recommend two good books on the topic touched upon in this publication. The young Strugatsky brothers envisioned a bright future in their novel "Distant Rainbow," while Stanislav Lem mercilessly carved a cross for humanity’s grave in "Fiasco," after which, disillusioned with humanity, he stopped writing. These are worthy books—read them!