Building	a	Postwork	Utopia:	Technological Unemployment,	Life	Extension	and	the	Future	of Human	Flourishing In	LaGrandeur	and	Hughes	(eds)	Surviving	the	Machine	Age	(Palgrave-MacMillan 2017) By	John	Danaher* Abstract:	Populations	in	developed	societies	are	rapidly	aging:	fertility	rates	are	at all-time	lows	while	life	expectancy	creeps	ever	higher.	This	is	triggering	a	social crisis	in	which	shrinking	youth	populations	are	required	to	pay	for	the	care	and retirements	of	an	aging	majority.	Some	people	argue	that	by	investing	in	the	right kinds	of	lifespan	extension	technology	–	the	kind	that	extends	the	healthy	and productive	phases	of	life	–	we	can	avoid	this	crisis	(thereby	securing	a	'longevity dividend').	This	chapter	argues	that	this	longevity	dividend	is	unlikely	to	be	paid	if lifespan	extension	coincides	with	rampant	technological	unemployment.	This	does not	mean	that	we	should	not	pursue	lifespan	extension,	but	it	does	mean	that	the argument	in	its	favor	needs	to	rest	on	other	grounds.	After	articulating	these grounds,	the	chapter	proceeds	to	consider	the	implications	this	has	for	our	vision	of the	extended	life,	postwork	utopia.	It	argues	that	this	vision	may	need	to	be reconceived	and	suggests	that	one	plausible	reconception	involves	prioritizing	the role	of	games	in	the	well-lived	life. Introduction	–	Unemployment	in	an	Aging	World Susannah	Mushatt	Jones	died	the	day	I	wrote	this	sentence.	She	was	the oldest	person	in	the	world	at	the	time,	aged	116	years	at	her	death.	Her	life spanned	three	centuries:	the	nineteenth,	twentieth	and	twenty-first.	As	an African-American	woman	she	witnessed	profound	social,	economic	and	legal changes	in	her	lifetime,	including	the	election	of	the	first	black	president.	She lived	the	last	30	years	of	her	life	in	a	public	housing	facility	for	senior	citizens	in Brooklyn	New	York	(BBC	News	2016).	She	was	blind	and	partially	deaf.	She	was under	constant	care	towards	the	end	–	though	she	maintained	an	active	role	as	a member	of	her	nursing	home's	tenant	patrol	until	she	was	106. If	current	medical	and	demographic	changes	continue,	we	can	expect	to see	more	people	like	Susannah	Mushatt	Jones	in	the	future.	This	has	important social	repercussions.	Life	expectancy	has	increased	dramatically	in	the	20th	and 21st	centuries	(National	Institute	on	Aging	2011).	At	the	same	time,	fertility rates	have	gone	down	across	the	developed	world	(Worldbank	2016).	Countries like	Japan,	where	life	expectancy	now	stretches	to	the	mid-80s,	and	birth	rates are	at	record	lows,	are	facing	significant	social	and	economic	problems	as	a result	of	their	'super-aging'	populations	(Muramatsu	and	Akiyama	2011).	If	the *	Lecturer	in	Law,	NUI	Galway	–	john.danaher@nuigalway.ie elderly	spend	the	last	decades	of	their	lives	requiring	near-constant	nursing	and medical	care	and	if	there	is	a	rapidly	shrinking	younger	population	coming	up behind	them,	who	will	pay	for	it	all?	How	will	societies	cope	with	this demographic	shift? Call	this	the	super-aging	society	problem	(SAS	problem	for	short).	The	SAS problem	is	bad	in	and	of	itself,	but	it	becomes	even	more	pronounced	when considered	in	conjunction	with	the	possibility	of	widespread	technological unemployment.	If	the	predictions	of	authors	like	Ford	(2015),	Brynjolfsson	and McAfee	(2014),	Frey	and	Osbourne	(2013)	and	others	prove	to	be	correct,	then not	only	will	shrinking	youth	populations	in	countries	like	Japan	be	required	to pay	for	the	care	of	the	super-aging	majority,	they	will	have	to	do	so	while confronting	fewer	and	fewer	employment	opportunities	and	greater	social inequality.	Now,	perhaps	the	robots	themselves	can	help	with	the	care	–	as	is already	happeningi	–	but	is	this	something	to	be	welcomed	or	lamented?	Are there	other	important	values	at	stake	when	we	think	about	the	intersection between	aging	and	technological	unemployment? These	are	the	questions	that	this	chapter	sets	out	to	answer.	In	the	course of	doing	so	it	presents	three	main	arguments.	First,	it	looks	to	Olshansky	et	al's (2007)	case	for	the	longevity	dividend	–	the	claim	that	societal	benefits	result from	the	expansion	of	healthy	lifespan	–	and	argues	that	although	this	argument provides	a	solution	to	the	SAS	problem	when	considered	in	isolation	from technological	unemployment,	it	becomes	less	compelling	when	considered	in conjunction	with	it.	Second,	despite	this	there	is	still	a	good	independent	case	for lifespan	extension.	Third,	because	of	this	we	need	to	radically	rethink	what	the ideal	future	for	human	society	will	look.	We	need	to	plan	for	a	future	in	which people	live	longer	healthier	lives	but	no	longer	work	or	contribute	to	the economic	productivity	of	their	societies. Assumptions	and	Clarifications Before	I	get	into	the	substance	of	my	claims,	I	need	to	clarify	some	key terminology	and	value	assumptions	that	motivate	the	arguments	I	am	going	to make.	I	will	start	with	the	most	important	–	and	interestingly	most	controversial –	assumption,	namely: Value	of	Life	Extension:	All	else	being	equal,	it	is	better	to	live	a	longer	life.	This implies	that,	all	else	being	equal	and	if	possible,	we	should	try	to	extend	people's lifespans. Some	philosophers	will	shake	their	heads	at	this	claim,	so	it	is	important	for	it	to be	interpreted	properly.	First,	the	'all	else	being	equal'	clause	is	crucial.	There are	certain	factors	which,	if	they	hold	true,	could	negate	the	assumption	that continued	life	has	value.	A	person	could	be	living	in	interminable	pain	(mental	or physical)	that	makes	continued	life	unbearable.	For	this	person	simply	extending their	lifespan	might	not	make	things	better.	Similarly,	the	obligation	that allegedly	follows	from	the	value	assumption	–	viz.	that	we	should	extend	life	–	is not	absolute.	It	can	be	overridden	by	other	considerations	or	obligations.	For instance,	if	a	person	does	not	wish	to	live	any	longer	it	would	be	wrong	to impose	additional	life	years	on	them	against	their	will.	We	should	respect	their informed	decision:	autonomy	trumps	forced	existence.	Likewise,	there	are	other social	and	moral	obligations	that	could	intervene	and	make	it	wrong	to	extend life.	Resources	are	scarce	and	there	may	be	occasions	on	which	extending	life comes	at	the	expense	of	something	even	more	important.	Still,	there	are important	questions	to	be	asked	as	to	what	could	be	more	important	than lifespan	extension,	particularly	given	that	continued	life	is	usually	what	makes	all other	good	things	possible.	We	will	return	to	this	issue	below. This	brings	us	to	a	second	interpretive	point.	The	value	assumption claims	that	more	life	is	'better'	but	it	is	deliberately	ambiguous	as	to	what	this betterness	consists	in	and	to	whom	it	accrues.	The	obvious	interpretation	would be	that	more	life	is	better	in	the	sense	that	it	results	in	more	valuable experiences	and	states	of	being	for	the	person	who	is	living	that	life.	But	it	is possible	that	other,	more	extrinsic	values,	result	from	lifespan	extension.	These values	could	accrue	to	the	person's	friends	and	family	(e.g.	continued	friendship), as	well	as	to	the	broader	society	in	which	they	live.	At	the	same	time,	there	could be	instrumental	costs	to	others	and	to	the	broader	society	that	are	ignored	if	you focus	purely	on	the	benefits	to	the	individual.	So	we	should	be	sensitive	to	the effects	of	longevity	outside	of	the	individual.	This	is	something	implicit	in	my formulation	of	the	SAS	problem	in	the	introduction,	and	will	resurface	when	we discuss	the	longevity	divided	argument,	below. Finally,	this	way	of	characterizing	the	value	of	lifespan	extension	includes hedges	against	some	noteworthy	philosophical	objections.	For	example,	there are	a	number	of	philosophers	who	claim	that	the	value	of	continued	existence eventually	levels	off	and/or	reverses	itself.	Williams	(1973)	is	probably	the	most famous	purveyor	of	this	argument.	He	claimed	that	anyone	living	an	immortal life	would	reach	a	point	in	time	when	they	became	incredibly	bored	and	no longer	lived	a	valuable	life.	Others	have	defended	similar	claims	about	the questionable	value	of	indefinite	lifespan	extension	(Smuts	2011;	Scheffler	2013). These	claims	typically	centre	around	the	notion	that	certain	essential	goods	(e.g. a	sense	of	achievement	or	purpose)	dissipate	if	life	goes	on	indefinitely,	or around	the	notion	that	the	goods	of	human	life	require	a	certain	degree	finitude to	make	sense.	Nothing	I	say	here	necessarily	disputes	these	claims.	It	could	well be	that	immortality	is	bad	and	that	the	goods	of	life	require	finitude.	I	simply assume	that	we	haven't	yet	extended	lifespans	to	the	point	where	we	are	at	risk of	undermining	these	goods.	Thus,	for	the	time	being,	and	all	else	being	equal, adding	to	lifespan	is	better	than	not	adding	to	it. This	value	assumption	lurks	in	the	background	for	the	remainder	of	this chapter,	occasionally	resurfacing	for	defence	and	refinement.	I	will	also	be making	use	of	some	additional	terminology	that	is	in	need	of	clarification.	First	of all	I	will	be	using	the	term	'lifespan	extension'	in	two	distinct	senses: Lifespan	Extension-1	(LE1):	You	extend	the	relatively	high	cost,	unhealthy	and 'aged'	portion	of	human	life. Lifespan	Extension-2	(LE2):	You	extend	the	relatively	lower	cost,	healthy	and 'youthful'	portion	of	human	life. The	first	sense	of	the	term	captures	a	current	reality.	We	are	already	getting quite	good	at	extending	the	relatively	high	cost,	unhealthy	and	'aged'	(I	put	this in	scare	quotes	because	terms	like	'aged'	are	possibly	best	understood	relative	to some	norm	of	lifespan;	hence	as	lifespan	extends,	what	counts	as	aged	may	shift in	line	with	the	new	norm).	Individuals	like	Susannah	Mushatt	Jones	exemplify this	mode	of	lifespan	extension.	They	live	extended	periods	of	time	in	states	of relatively	low	health,	heavily	dependent	upon	the	care	of	others.	This	form	of	life extension	has	been	facilitated	by	advances	in	fighting	diseases	(infectious,	heart, cancer	and	so	on)	and	in	palliative	care. The	second	sense	of	the	term	captures	a	possible	reality,	one	that numerous	futurists	and	transhumanist	activists	would	like	to	realize	(Kurzweil and	Grossman	2004	&	2010;	de	Grey	and	Rae	2008).	This	form	of	life	extension takes	issue	with	current	approaches	to	medical	care	which	don't	take	seriously the	value	of	reversing	or	reducing	the	negative	health	effects	of	aging.	It	wishes to	expand	the	parts	of	life	where	people	are	healthy	and	relatively	less dependent	on	the	care	of	others	for	their	continued	existence.	LE2	is	thus something	that	these	futurists	and	activists	think	we	should	aim	for,	usually following	the	basic	value	assumption	that	the	more	healthy	life	the	better. It	is	the	intersection	between	lifespan	extension	(of	both	varieties)	and trends	in	employment	and	automation	that	are	the	central	concern	of	this chapter.	It	is	consequently	worth	clarifying	some	terms	associated	with	those latter	topics	too.	Three	are	particularly	important Technological	Unemployment	(TU):	A	state	of	affairs	in	which robots/machines/advanced	AI	(etc)	replace	most	forms	of	human	paid	labor. Polarization	Effect	(PE):	The	division	of	human	forms	of	labor	into	two	polarized extremes:	high-paid	abstract	labor	on	the	one	had	and	low-paid	manual	labor	on the	other	(Autor	2015). Basic	Income	Guarantee	(BIG):	The	provision	of	a	guaranteed	income	to	all persons	within	a	politically	circumscribed	society,	irrespective	of	their	ability	or willingness	to	work. TU	and	BIG	are	relatively	self-explanatory.	PE	might	a	little	more	unfamiliar.	It	is an	effect	described	by	the	economist	David	Autor	(2015).	It	is	relevant	here because	some	people	dismiss	the	more	extreme	arguments	in	favor	of	rapidly increasing	TU.	Economists	are	often	of	this	view	because	they	think	proponents of	TU	commit	the	'lump	of	labor'	fallacy,	i.e.	they	assume	that	there	is	a	fixed amount	of	labor	out	there	and	that	if	machines	get	good	at	the	existing	forms	of labor,	humans	will	have	nowhere	left	to	go.	This	assumption	is	flawed	because there	are	always	new	jobs	coming	on	stream	that	take	into	account	the	things made	possible	by	technology	(e.g.	social	media	consultant	or	machine	learning consultant).	Thus,	technology	doesn't	lead	to	widespread	unemployment;	it simply	changes	the	employment	opportunities	available	to	human	laborers. Autor's	PE	is	interesting	because	it	effectively	accepts	this	critique	of	TU.	It simply	points	out	that	the	main	discernible	effect	of	technology	on	employment (at	the	moment)	is	a	polarizing	one:	advances	in	IT	are	creating	relatively	few highly-paid	and	highly-educated	'abstract'	jobs;	they	are	destroying	middleincome,	middle-skill	jobs;	and	they	are	resulting	in	many	more	low-paid,	poorlyeducated	and	precarious	'manual'	jobs.	Thus,	even	if	we	don't	get	to	a	state	of	TU, we	are	entering	a	world	of	increased	labor	force	stratification. The	existence	of	PE	has	one	important	implication	for	the	remainder	of the	chapter.	It	means	that	we	can	probably	hedge	our	bets	between	PE	and	TU and	many	of	the	arguments	I	make	will	still	hold	true.	This	is	because	most	of arguments	are	premised	upon	increased	polarization,	precarity	and	inequality, not	widespread	TU	itself.	I	will	occasionally	highlight	this	when	presenting	those arguments. Speaking	of	which,	it	is	about	time	I	got	to	the	arguments	themselves. Will	there	be	a	Longevity	Dividend? Return	to	the	super-aging	society	(SAS)	problem	that	I	outlined	in	the introduction.	We	are	now	able	to	get	a	clearer	sense	of	the	causes	of	this problem.	In	essence,	the	SAS	problem	results	from	a	combination	of	LE1	and	low fertility	rates.	It	is	the	fact	that	we	are	getting	better	at	extending	the	relatively unhealthy	and	dependent	phase	of	live,	coupled	with	the	fact	that	there	are	fewer young	people	to	pay	for	the	care	of	the	aging	population,	that	causes	the problem.	This	combination	often	scares	policy-makers	and	politicians.	It suggests	to	them	that	it's	a	bad	thing	to	further	prioritize	lifespan	extension.	It suggests	that	the	SAS	problem	is	one	of	the	considerations	that	might	count against	or	override	the	value	presumption	in	favor	of	lifespan	extension.	A possible	solution	would	be	to	increase	fertility	by	some	compensating	measure. But	this	too	is	a	concern	for	policy-makers	because	lower	fertility	correlates fairly	consistently	with	higher	living	standards,	and	there	are	additional concerns	about	the	resource	drain	created	by	larger	global	populations. This	is	where	proponents	of	LE2	step	in.	They	argue	that	policy-makers have	been	focused	on	the	wrong	type	of	lifespan	extension.	It	is	true	that	LE1 contributes	the	SAS	problem,	but	LE1	is	not	the	only	game	in	town.	There	is	also LE2.	If	we	prioritized	investments	into	LE2	over	investments	into	LE1	we	could address	the	SAS	problem	without	going	down	the	route	of	increasing	fertility. This	is	the	so-called	'longevity	dividend'	argument.	Olshansky	et	al	(2007,	12) put	it	as	follows: "[A]ging	interventions	have	the	potential	to	do	what	no	surgical	procedure, behavior	modification,	or	cure	for	any	one	major	fatal	disease	can	do;	namely, extend	youthful	vigor	throughout	the	life	span.	Extending	the	duration	of	physical and	mental	capacity	would	permit	people	to	remain	in	the	labor	force	longer,	amass more	income	and	savings,	and	thereby	lessen	the	effect	of	shifting	demographics	on agebased	entitlement	programs,	with	a	net	benefit	to	national	economies.	The combined	social,	economic,	and	health	bonuses	accruing	from	a	slowing	of	the	rate of	aging	is	what	we	call	the	longevity	dividend-benefits	that	might	begin	with	those now	alive,	and	then	continue	for	all	generations	that	follow." Goldman	et	al	(2013)	model	possible	future	scenarios	in	which	we	invest	in	LE2 over	and	above	LE1.	They	reach	a	number	of	interesting	conclusions.	They	claim that	prioritizing	therapies	that	delay	aging	even	by	as	much	as	2.2	years	could yield	economic	benefits	of	$7.1	trillion	over	a	period	of	fifty	years.	By	contrast, focusing	on	the	disease	prevention	strategies	at	the	heart	of	LE1	(e.g.	prevention of	heart	disease	and	cancer)	would	yield	diminishing	improvements	over	the same	period.	They	acknowledge	that	delayed	aging	could	have	severe	economic disbenefits	if	existing	old	age	entitlements	remain	in	place,	but	claim	that	those disbenefits	can	be	offset	if	we	increase	entitlement	ages	in	tandem	with	the delayed	aging	effect. We	see	thus,	in	both	cases,	the	claim	that	LE2	avoids	the	SAS	problem	by adding	additional	healthy	and	economically	productive	years	to	life.	When	read	in its	common	prosaic	form,	this	argument	often	seems	pretty	persuasive	and common-sensical.	But	it	is	often	only	when	you	expose	the	logical	structure	of	an argument	that	you	begin	to	see	certain	problems.	For	example,	here's	one plausible	reconstruction	of	the	reasoning	underlying	the	longevity	dividend argument: (1)	It	is	possible	to	avoid	the	SAS	problem	by	extending	the	healthy	and economically	productive	years	of	life. (2)	LE2	extends	the	healthy	and	economically	productive	years	of	life. (3)	It	is	possible	to	achieve	LE2	by	prioritizing	medical	research	and	investment into	anti-aging	therapies. (4)	Therefore,	it	is	possible	to	avoid	the	SAS	problem	by	prioritizing	medical research	and	investment	into	anti-aging	therapies. The	reasoning	has	a	certain	appeal.	The	second	premise	seems	true	by	definition. The	third	premise	is	empirically	uncertain	but	we	can	grant	for	the	sake	of argument	that	it	is	true:	that	we	really	can	achieve	LE2	by	prioritizing	the	right research.	That	leaves	us	with	first	premise.	This	seems	persuasive	if	we	presume a	relatively	static	and	unchanging	economic	model,	i.e.	one	in	which	human workers	contribute	the	bulk	of	the	economically	productive	labor,	that	this	work will	be	well-rewarded,	and	that	the	workers	will	pay	their	fair	share	of	tax	(or charity)	towards	the	remaining	entitlement	programs. But	of	course	this	presumption	is	exactly	what	is	challenged	by	TU	and PE.	If	the	economic	model	shifts	dramatically	over	the	next	fifty	years	–	to	such an	extent	that	there	are	few	if	any	jobs	for	human	workers	(and	the	jobs	that	are available	are	precarious	and	poorly	rewarded)	–	then	the	longevity	dividend	will never	be	paid.	In	other	words,	contrary	to	what	its	proponents	believe	the combination	of	LE2	and	TU	(or	PE)	will	not	resolve	the	SAS	problem.	In	fact,	the combination	may	exacerbate	the	problem.	It	would	result	in	more	people	living longer	and	healthier	lives,	while	being	unable	to	make	an	economic	contribution, and	consequently	reliant	on	the	state	(or	charities)	to	sustain	their	existence.	We don't	just	get	an	old-age	dependency	problem;	we	get	a	whole-life	dependency problem.	Policy-makers	may	get	worried	again.	They	may	insist	that	LE2	cannot now	be	prioritized	because	it	will	drain	resources	over	two	timelines:	in	the initial	investment	phase	and	in	the	long-term	(if	the	research	succeeds	in achieving	LE2). The	result	is	that	the	longevity	dividend	argument	becomes	a	good	deal less	persuasive	in	a	world	of	rampant	TU.	Does	this,	in	turn,	undercut	the argument	for	lifespan	extension?	It	may	weaken	it	to	a	degree,	but	this	is arguably	only	because	the	longevity	dividend	argument	rests	an	inappropriate amount	of	weight	on	the	extrinsic,	societal	benefits	of	longevity.	This	is	probably not	where	the	weight	should	be.	There	is	a	simple	and	strong	independent	case for	LE2.	Many	people	feel	its	pull.	The	common	sense	view	is	that	death	is	pretty bad	(all	else	being	equal),	and	that	old	age	and	suffering	are	bad	too.	This	is supported	by	most	leading	philosophical	accounts	of	well-being	and	death.	Most philosophers	think	that	death	is	a	bad	thing	because	it	deprives	you	of	good things	you	might	otherwise	have	had	(Luper	2009).	Even	philosophical	schools of	thought	that	argue	in	favor	of	the	view	that	death	is	not	bad	(or	not	to	be feared)	tend	to	also	support	the	view	that	death	is	'less	good'	than	continued	life (Warren	2004;	Smuts	2012).	Furthermore,	standard	experiential	or	objective	list views	of	well-being	tend	to	insist	that	a	good	life	is	one	in	which	our	physical	and mental	capacities	are	allowed	to	reach	their	maximum	potential	(e.g.	Sen	and Nussbaum	1993).	This	is	something	that	is	not	possible	in	a	state	of	aging	illhealth	and	dependency.	Combining	these	two	views,	we	get	a	case	in	favor	of	LE2 that	rests	no	weight	on	the	extrinsic	economic	benefits.	Indeed,	one	could	argue that	this	argument	is	truer	to	the	real	rationale	and	motivations	behind	the	drive for	LE2;	that	the	longevity	dividend	argument	is	something	a	convenient smokescreen,	revealed	to	be	such	by	the	impending	possibility	of	TU. Flourishing	and	Well-Being	in	a	Postwork	Age Suppose	this	independent	argument	is	correct,	does	this	mean	we	should pursue	LE2	with	abandon?	Supporters	must	contend	with	two	objections.	The first	returns	to	the	territory	of	the	SAS	problem.	The	policy-maker	may	concede that	there	are	strong	independent	grounds	(viz.	the	badness	of	death	and	the goodness	of	healthy	life)	for	supporting	investment	into	LE2	but	still	insist	that we	must	confront	the	economic	reality:	it	will	result	in	more	people	being dependent	on	others	for	their	existence	(if	they	want	it	to	be	happy	and flourishing).	We	can	no	longer	commit	to	the	view	that	LE2	will	solve	this problem	by	itself	–	as	the	proponents	of	the	longevity	dividend	liked	to	do	–	so we	must	say	something	in	response. And	there	are	several	things	we	can	say.	First,	this	may	not	be	a	problem	– at	least	not	in	the	sense	we	understand	it	to	be.	Our	assumption	that	we	will need	to	pay	a	lot	for	the	upkeep	or	support	of	dependent	populations	may	itself be	disrupted	by	the	coming	technological	changes.	As	Brynjolfsson	and	McAfee (2014)	put	it,	the	future	may	be	one	of	increasing	abundance	and	increasing spread.	That	is	to	say,	there	may	be	greater	inequality	in	terms	of	income	and wealth,	but	the	poorer	populations	will	be	living	in	states	of	machine-assisted abundance.	They	will	have	all	the	goods	and	services	they	could	possibly	require. Indeed,	as	I	suggested	earlier,	this	could	include	machine-assisted	abundance	in the	area	of	care	and	assistance	for	the	remaining	elderly	or	ill	populations	that require	it.	Furthermore,	there	are	plausible	ways	in	which	we	can	address	the problem	of	increasing	spread.	The	BIG	is	one	such	way	–	now	recommended	or encouraged	by	many	of	the	leading	contributors	to	the	debate	about	TU.	Other chapters	in	this	book	(e.g.	Santens)	explore	this	policy	option	in	greater	detail	so I	will	say	relatively	little	about	it	here.	All	I	will	say	is	that	pointing	to	the combination	of	TU	and	lifespan	extension	(either	LE1	or	LE2)	may	be	a	boon	for proponents	of	BIG.	Why?	Because	it	intensifies	the	pragmatic	concernsii	that motivates	many	of	the	arguments	in	favor	of	BIG.	It	would	thus	make	sense	for such	proponents	to	add	the	economic	effects	lifespan	extension	to	their	arsenal of	push	factors	that	nudge	us	toward	the	BIG. The	second	objection	is	rather	more	interesting.	It	argues	that	just	as	the supporter	of	the	longevity	dividend	saw	one	of	their	key	premises	undercut	by the	impending	reality	of	TU,	so	too	will	the	independent	supporter	of	LE2	see one	of	their	key	premises	undercut.	How	does	this	work?	I	take	the	following	to be	a	reasonable	reconstruction	of	the	independent	argument	for	LE2: (5)	It	is	good	for	people	to	live	longer	lives	in	states	of	flourishing	and	wellbeing. (6)	LE2	allows	people	to	live	longer	lives	in	states	of	flourishing	and	wellbeing. (7)	Therefore,	LE2	is	good. The	problem	here	is	that	premise	(5)	may	be	less	plausible	in	a	world	of	rampant TU	(or	indeed	PE).	This	is	because	whatever	about	the	income	it	may	provide, paid	employment	is,	for	many	people,	a	privileged	context	in	which	they	can achieve	goods	that	make	flourishing	and	well-being	possible.	Ghaeus	and	Herzog (2016)	express	the	objection	nicely	when	they	argue	that	there	are	four	nonmonetary	goods	that	are	associated	with	work:	(i)	mastery/excellence;	(ii) community;	(iii)	social	contribution	and	(iv)	status.	The	first	of	these	is particularly	important	because	work	is	often	what	allows	us	to	exercise	certain cognitive	and	physical	capacities	to	their	maximum	potential,	which	is	something intrinsic	to	many	theories	of	flourishing.	The	problem,	as	Ghaeus	and	Herzog point	out,	is	that	BIG	may	not	be	able	to	compensate	for	the	loss	of	these	goods. So	people	living	longer	and	healthier	lives	in	a	world	without	work	may	not	be	so conducive	to	flourishing	and	well-being. In	previous	work	(Danaher	2016),	I	have	argued	that	this	pessimistic view	must	be	counterbalanced	against	the	fact	that	work	is,	for	many	people,	a source	of	misery	and	frustration,	and,	furthermore,	that	there	are	many	nonmonetary	contexts	which	allow	for	excellence,	social	contribution,	community and	status	to	develop.	Indeed,	the	advantage	of	TU	may	be	that	it	allows	these other	contexts	to	assert	themselves	more	forcefully.	Still,	even	I	have	my	doubts about	living	a	long	and	flourishing	life	in	a	world	without	work.	In	the	remainder of	the	chapter	I	want	to	consider	these	doubts	and	explore	a	radical	possibility that	allows	us	to	embrace	the	combination	TU	and	LE2,	without	lamenting	the economic,	social	or	personal	repercussions. The	Postwork	Utopia	as	a	World	of	Games My	doubts	about	flourishing	in	a	postwork	future	rest	on	the	possible 'meaning	deficit'	that	could	arise	in	such	a	world.	Meaning	is	a	distinct component	of	well-being.	It	is	a	contested	philosophical	concept,	but	for	present purposes	I	will	focus	one	plausible	theory,	taken	from	the	work	of	Thaddeus Metz	(2010).	This	theory	argues	that	our	lives	accumulate	meaning	when we	contour	our	intellects	to	the	pursuit	of	the	good,	the	true	and	the	beautiful.	In other	words,	when	we	act	to	bring	about	morally	good	states	of	affairs,	pursue and	attain	a	true	conception	of	reality,	and	produce	(and	admire)	things	of	great aesthetic	beauty.	It	is	critical	to	this	theory	that	your	individual	actions	help	to achieve	these	three	great	states	of	affairs.	In	other	words,	there	must	be a	link	(typically	causal	and/or	mental)	between	what	you	do	and	what	happens in	the	world	around	you.	The	problem	is	that	the	automating	technologies	that make	TU	an	impending	reality	also	threaten	to	sever	that	causal-mental	link between	what	you	do	and	what	happens	in	the	world	around	you.	Automating technologies,	after	all,	obviate	the	need	for	humans	in	certain	endeavors. The	problem	then	with	those,	like	me,	who	insist	that	paid	work	is	often boring	and	degrading,	and	that	we	would	be	better	off	without	it,	is	that	we	tend to	assume	that	if	we	can	achieve	TU	and	BIG,	then	the	automating	technologies that	make	this	possible	will	simply	free	us	up	to	pursue	things	that	provide opportunities	for	genuine	meaning	and	flourishing.	But	it	may	not	work	that way.	There	is	no	good	reason	to	think	that	advances	in	automating	technologies limit	themselves	to	activities	that	provide	less	meaning	for	humans.	In	fact	we already	know	that	technological	developments	affect	other	domains	where	we would	like	humans	to	remain	relevant.	For	example,	if	we	assume	that	science	is the	main	way	in	which	we	pursue	'the	true'	in	the	modern	world,	then	there	are already	some	obvious	ways	in	which	automating	technologies	are	removing	us from	this	domain	of	meaning.	Science	is	increasingly	a	big	data	enterprise,	in which	machine	learning	algorithms	are	leveraged	to	make	sense	of	large datasets,	and	to	make	new	and	interesting	discoveries.	These	systems	are	in their	infancy	now,	but	already	we	see	ways	in	which	the	algorithms	are attenuating	the	link	between	individual	scientists	and	new	discoveries.	Why? Because	they	are	becoming	increasingly	complex,	and	working	in	ways	that	are beyond	the	understanding	and	control	of	the	individual	scientists.	The	crucial causal-mental	link	is	being	cut. The	resulting	concern	is	that	developments	in	automating	technologies may	narrow	the	domain	for	genuinely	meaningful	action.	There	are	no	doubt meaningful	activities	will	remain	accessible	to	humans	(e.g.	there	are	serious questions	as	to	whether	machines	could	ever	really	takeover	the	pursuit	of	the Beautiful),	but	the	totality	will	diminish	in	the	wake	of	rampant	automation. Humans	could	still	be	very	well	off	as	a	result:	we	could	build	a	world	of abundance	in	which	machines	solve	most	moral	problems	(e.g.	curing	disease, distributing	goods	and	services,	deciding	on	and	implementing	important	social policies)	make	new	and	interesting	discoveries	in	which	we	can	delight,	and	in which	we	are	richly	rewarded	by	their	technological	acceleration,	but	we	will	be the	passive	recipients	of	these	benefits,	not	active	contributors	to	them.	There	is something	less-than-idyllic	about	such	a	world. This	is	where	we	may	need	to	radically	rethink	what	it	takes	to	live	a	long meaningful	and	flourishing	life.iii	One	thing	that	would	be	left	open	to	us	in	this postwork	future	is	game-playing.	While	the	machines	are	busy	solving	our	moral crises	and	making	great	discoveries,	we	can	participate	in	more	and	more elaborate	and	interesting	games.	These	games	would	be	of	no	instrumental significance	-	they	wouldn't	solve	moral	problems	or	be	sources	of	income	or status,	for	example	-	but	they	might	be	sources	of	meaning	and	they	might allow	for	a	genuinely	utopian	form	of	flourishing. To	understand	how	this	might	happen,	we	need	to	get	a	better	handle	on what	a	game	is.	I	rely	on	the	conceptual	analysis	provided	by	Bernard	Suits (2005).	Suits	argues	that	games	have	three	key	features: Prelusory	Goals:	These	are	outcomes	or	changes	in	the	world	that	are	intelligible apart	from	the	game	itself.	For	example,	in	a	game	like	golf	the	prelusory	goal	would be	something	like:	putting	a	small,	dimpled	ball	into	a	hole,	marked	by	a	flag.	The prelusory	goal	is	the	state	of	affairs	that	helps	us	keep	score	and	determine	who	wins or	loses	the	game. Constitutive	Rules:	These	are	the	rules	that	determine	how	the	prelusory	goal	is	to be	attained.	According	to	Suits,	these	rules	set	up	artificial	obstacles	that	prevent	the players	from	achieving	the	prelusory	goal	in	the	most	straightforward	and	efficient manner.	For	example,	the	most	efficient	and	straightforward	way	to	get	a	dimpled ball	in	a	hole	would	probably	be	to	pick	up	the	ball	and	drop	it	directly	in	the	hole. But	the	constitutive	rules	of	golf	do	not	allow	you	to	do	this.	You	have	to	manipulate the	ball	through	the	air	and	along	the	ground	using	a	set	of	clubs,	in	a	very	particular constrained	environment.	These	artificial	constraints	are	what	make	the	game interesting. Lusory	Attitude:	This	is	the	psychological	orientation	of	the	game-players	to	the game	itself.	In	order	for	a	game	to	work,	the	players	have	to	accept	the	constraints imposed	by	the	constitutive	rules.	This	is	an	obvious	point.	Golf	could	not	survive	as	a game	if	the	players	refused	to	use	their	clubs	to	get	the	ball	into	the	hole. Here's	the	critical	question:	can	a	world	in	which	we	have	nothing	to	do	but	play games	(so-defined)	provide	the	basis	for	a	flourishing	life?	Maybe.	Suits	himself seems	to	have	thought	it	would	be	the	best	possible	life.	But	Suits	was notoriously	esoteric	in	his	defence	of	this	claim.	His	book	on	the	topic,	the Grasshopper,	is	an	allegorical	dialogue,	which	discusses	games	in	the	context	of	a future	of	technological	perfection,	but	doesn't	present	a	clearcut	argument.	It	is also	somewhat	equivocal	and	uncertain	in	its	final	views,	which	is	what	you would	expect	from	a	good	philosophical	dialogue.	This	makes	for	good	reading, but	not	good	arguing.	We	need	to	turn	to	the	work	of	other	philosophers	like Thomas	Hurka	(2006)	to	fill	in	the	details	missing	from	Suits's	account.	Doing	so we	see	how	Hurka	argues	that	games	are	a	way	of	realising	two	important	kinds of	value	in	their	purest	and	most	idealized	form. The	first	value	derives	from	the	structure	of	means-end	reasoning. Means-end	reasoning	is	all	about	working	out	the	most	appropriate	course	of action	for	realizing	some	particular	goal.	A	well-designed	game	allows	for	some complexity	in	the	relationship	between	means	and	ends.	Thus,	when	one	finally attains	those	ends,	there	is	a	great	sense	of	achievement	involved	(you	have overcome	the	obstacles	established	by	the	rules	of	the	game).	This	sense	of achievement,	according	to	Hurka,	is	an	important	source	of	value.	And	games	are good	because	they	provide	a	pure	platform	for	realizing	higher	degrees	of achievement.	An	analogy	helps	to	make	the	point.	Compare	theoretical	reasoning with	practical	reasoning.	In	theoretical	reasoning,	you	are	trying	to	attain	true insights	about	the	structure	of	the	world	around	you.	This	enables	you	to	realise a	distinct	value:	knowledge.	But	this	requires	something	more	that	the	mere description	of	facts.	You	need	to	identify	general	laws	or	principles	that	help	to explain	those	facts.	When	you	succeed	in	identifying	those	general	laws	or principles	you	will	have	attained	a	deep	level	of	insight.	This	has	more	value	than mere	description.	For	example,	when	Newton	identified	his	laws	of	gravity,	he provided	overarching	principles	that	could	explain	many	distinct	facts.	This	was valuable	in	a	way	that	simply	describing	facts	about	objects	in	motion	was	not: there	was	an	extra	value	to	providing	knowledge	that	was	explanatorilyintegrated.	Hurka	argues	that	the	parallel	to	knowledge	in	the	practical	domain	is achievement.	There	is	some	good	to	achievement	of	all	kinds,	but	there	is	greater good	in	achievement	that	involves	some	means-end	complexity.	The	more obstacles	you	have	to	overcome,	the	more	achievement	you	have.	Games	are special	because	they	allow	us	to	create	ever	more	elaborate	and	complex	forums for	these	higher	forms	of	achievement,	ones	that	aren't	limited	in	their complexity	like	real-world	means-end	problems.	In	other	words,	a	well-designed game	can	be	a	forum	par	excellence	for	achieving	this	type	of	value. The	second	source	of	value	in	game-playing	has	to	do	with	Aristotle's distinction	between	two	types	of	activity:	energeia	and	kinesis.	Energeiai	are activities	that	are	all	about	process.	Aristotle	viewed	philosophy	and	selfexamination	as	being	of	this	sort:	it	was	a	constant	process	of	questioning	and gaining	insight:	it	never	bottomed	out	in	some	goal	or	end	state.	Kineseis	are activities	that	are	all	about	goals	or	end	states.	Aristotle	thought	that	processrelated	activities	were	ultimately	better	than	goal-related	activities.	The	reason for	this	is	that	he	thought	the	value	of	a	kinesis	was	always	trumped	by	or subordinate	to	its	goal	(i.e.	it	was	always	instrumental	and	never	good	in	itself). This	is	why	Aristotle	advocated	the	life	of	contemplation	and	philosophising. Such	a	life	would	be	one	in	which	the	intellectual	activity	is	an	end	in	itself. At	first	glance,	it	would	seem	like	games	don't	fit	neatly	within	this Aristotelian	framework.	Games	are	certainly	goal-directed	activities	(the prelusory	goal	is	essential	to	their	structure).	And	so	this	makes	them	look like	kineseis.	But	remember	the	goals	are	essentially	inconsequential.	They	have no	deeper	meaning	or	significance.	As	a	result,	the	game	is	really	all	about process.	It	is	about	finding	ways	to	overcome	the	artificial	obstacles	established by	the	constitutive	rules.	Games	are	consequently	excellent	platform	for	realizing the	Aristotelian	ideal.	They	are	activities	directed	at	some	external	end,	but	the end	itself	has	no	value;	the	internal	process	is	the	sole	source	of	value.	Indeed, there	is	a	sense	in	which	games	are	an	even	better	way	of	achieving	Aristotle's ideal	than	Aristotle's	own	suggestion.	The	problem	with	Aristotle's	suggestion	is that	intellectual	activity	often	does	have	valuable	goals	lurking	in	the	background (e.g.	attaining	some	true	insight).	There	is	always	the	risk	that	these	goals	trump the	inherent	value	of	the	intellectual	process.	With	games,	you	never	have	that risk.	The	goals	are	valueless	from	the	get-go.	Purely	procedural	goods	can	really flourish	in	the	world	of	games. This	makes	a	postwork	world,	consisting	of	nothing	but	elaborately constructed	games	look	like	a	world	that	allows	for	a	certain	kind	of	flourishing. But	is	this	flourishing	enough?	Ironically,	Hurka	has	his	doubts.	While	he	accepts that	the	game-playing	life	allows	for	some	flourishing,	he	still	thinks	it	is	of	a weaker	or	inferior	sort	because	the	players	are	cut	off	from	true	sources	of meaning	like	the	good	and	the	true.	This	suggests	a	retreat	to	the	vision	of meaning	I	outlined	earlier. But	I	want	to	suggest	that	Hurka.	There	may	be	nothing	inferior	about	a world	in	which	humans	are	no	longer	concerned	with	things	like	the	good	and the	true.	Indeed,	this	world	of	elaborate	but	ultimately	inconsequential	games	is arguably	the	most	plausible	conception	of	what	a	utopian	world	would	look	like. If	you	think	about	it,	the	other	proposed	sources	of	meaning	(e.g.	the	good	and the	true)	only	really	make	sense	in	an	imperfect	world.	It	is	because	people suffer	or	lack	basic	goods	and	services	that	we	need	to	engage	in	moral	projects that	improve	their	well-being	and	resolve	distributional	injustices.	Similarly,	it	is only	because	we	are	epistemically	impaired	that	we	need	to	pursue	the	truth.	If we	lived	in	a	world	in	which	those	impairments	had	been	overcome,	the	meaning derived	from	those	activities	would	no	longer	make	sense.	The	external	goods would	be	readily	available	to	all	and	would	no	longer	be	a	source	of	concern	or longing.	In	such	a	world,	we	would	expect	the	purely	procedural	goods	alluded	to by	Hurka	to	be	the	only	game	in	town.	And	what	is	a	world	devoid	of	suffering, impairment	and	limitation?	Surely	it	is	a	utopia?	By	enabling	us	to	see	the	value of	game-playing	as	a	source	of	flourishing,	this	might	be	exactly	what	the combination	of	TU	and	LE2	helps	us	to	bring	about. Conclusion Where	does	this	analysis	leave	us?	A	brief	summary	is	in	order.	First,	the SAS	problem	is	definitely	a	problem:	one	that	societies	need	to	confront. Furthermore,	they	will	not	be	able	to	confront	it	simply	by	prioritizing	LE2	over LE1,	as	proponents	of	the	longevity	dividend	argument	would	have	us	believe. This	is	because	that	argument	neglects	to	consider	the	potential	impact	of	TU	on its	motivating	premise.	But	this	does	not	mean	that	LE2	is	unworthy	of	our support.	It	deserves	our	support	if	we	grant	that	there	is	value	(in	most circumstances)	to	avoiding	death	and	living	in	states	of	flourishing	and	wellbeing.	Nevertheless,	defenders	of	LE2	still	need	to	think	about	how	the distributional	crises	exacerbated	by	SAS	and	TU	will	be	resolved	and,	perhaps most	importantly,	about	what	meaning	and	flourishing	look	like	in	a	world	of rampant	automation.	I	have	suggested	that	we	may	need	to	embrace	a	radical vision	in	which	TU	and	LE2	make	possible	a	utopian,	game-playing	mode	of existence. Bibliography Autor,	D.	(2015a).	Why	are	there	still	so	many	jobs?	The	history	and	future	of workplace	automation.	Journal	of	Economic	Perspectives,	29(3),	3–30. BBC	News	(2016).	'Susannah	Mushatt	Jones,	last	US	woman	born	in	19th Century,	dies'.	13th	May	2016 Brynjolfsson,	E.,	&	McAfee,	A.	(2014).	The	second	machine	age:	Work,	progress, and	prosperity	in	a	time	of	brilliant	technologies.	WW	Norton	and	Co. Danaher,	J.	(2016).	Will	life	be	worth	living	in	a	world	without	work?	Science	and Engineering	Ethics.	doi:10.1007/s11948-016-9770-5 Ford,	M.	(2015).	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There	are	several	arguments	in	favour	of	BIG	that	derive	from philosophical	accounts	of	political	freedom.	See,	for	example,	Widerquist	2013. iii	I	was	first	encouraged	to	consider	this	possibility	during	an	interview conducted	by	Jon	Perry	and	Ted	Kupper	on	the	Review	the	Future	Podcast.	I would	like	to	thank	them	both	for	suggesting	this	line	of	inquiry.	The	podcast itself	can	be	heard	at:	http://reviewthefuture.com/?p=