Intellectual History of Anti-Humanity Thought

Throughout history, a small but notable strand of thought has regarded humanity’s demise not as a worst-case scenario, but as a potential good—or at least not inherently bad. These “anti-humanity” positions generally take two main forms:

• Some thinkers actively argue that the end of the human species would be a good thing, either for humanity’s own sake or in service of higher values (such as eliminating suffering or yielding to a superior form of life).
• Others, from perspectives like moral nihilism or cosmic pessimism, maintain that human extinction would not be a moral tragedy—perhaps even a relief—given their doubts about any ultimate meaning or value in human existence.

This review surveys prominent philosophers and intellectuals—from ancient times to today—who have advocated for or seriously entertained such anti-humanity stances.

We will encounter:

• Religious sects that renounced procreation,
• Modern pessimists who concluded non-existence is preferable to life,
• Ethical theorists who see virtue in voluntary extinction,
• And futurists who envision replacing humanity with post-human intelligence.

Each figure’s reasoning will be clarified, whether rooted in metaphysical views (e.g., life as an evil or illusion), ethical arguments (e.g., preventing suffering or harm), or broader cosmic perspectives (e.g., humanity’s insignificance or replaceability).

A Caveat on Unsafe AI

Extinction Bounties is interested in averting catastrophic x-risks due to novel technological developments in general.
The development of unsafe artificial superintelligence is our largest example, but there are others, including:

• Superpathogens emerging from gain-of-function research,
• “Grey goo” scenarios from nanotechnology experiments.

The philosophical question of whether it would be good to end humanity in the abstract applies to all such x-risks.
Unsafe ASI, however, introduces a thornier question for some thinkers: whether it would be desirable to replace humanity with something “better.”

We oppose this as well.
It is worth noting that arguments for replacement are not necessarily arguments for extinction.
For example:

“Replacing humanity with AI would be good because AI would maximize positive qualia far beyond anything humans could achieve.”

This is a consequentialist argument about improving the universe—not a direct endorsement of ending humanity per se.
Our concern is with arguments for humanity’s termination, not merely its supersession.

Early Precursors: “Better Never to Have Been”

The idea that non-existence could be preferable to existence traces back to ancient thought.

In Greek mythology, the wisdom figure Silenus reputedly told King Midas that the best fate for humans is “never to be born at all,” and the second-best is to die quickly (The Guardian).

A chorus in Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus voices this same sentiment:

“Never to have been born is best, but if we must see the light, the next best is to return whence we came as quickly as possible.”
(The Guardian)

Such lines, quoted by contemporary anti-natalists, suggest an ancient intuition:
that the absence of life might be freer of suffering and evil than life itself.

During the Hellenistic era, the Cyrenaic philosopher Hegesias of Cyrene (3rd century BCE) earned the nickname “The Death-Persuader” for teaching that happiness is unattainable and that death is preferable to life.

According to Cicero, Hegesias’ book Death by Starvation so persuasively argued for non-existence that several listeners committed suicide; Ptolemy II reportedly banned Hegesias from lecturing in Alexandria as a result (Wikipedia).

Hegesias’ extreme pessimistic hedonism held that, since lasting joy cannot be achieved, the wise person’s goal should be freedom from pain—a state ultimately achieved only by escaping life altogether.

Certain religious and mystical movements likewise espoused anti-worldly, anti-procreative doctrines.
For example, the medieval Cathars (12th–13th century) believed the material world was the evil creation of a false god.
They preached that souls are trapped in bodies through procreation.

Accordingly:

• Cathar “Perfecti” took strict vows of celibacy,
• Marriage was repudiated,
• Bringing new humans into existence was viewed as perpetuating spiritual imprisonment (Encyclopedia.com).

Their dualistic theology implied that the human species should ideally die out to free divine spirits from the corrupt material world.
Here, extinction was envisioned as a form of spiritual purification.

Non-Western philosophies also contributed proto-antinatalist ideas.

Ancient Buddhism, for instance, taught that all life is caught in an endless cycle of suffering (saṃsāra), and the highest goal is to attain Nirvana—the cessation of rebirth.

In Theravāda Buddhist doctrine:

“All births are births into the world of suffering; hence, coming into existence must be evaluated negatively.”
(PhilArchive)

While Buddhism does not call for universal extinction, its view that non-existence is the ultimate release from suffering rejects any inherent value in continuing worldly life.
This theme—that non-existence may be better than existence—would resurface secularly in modern pessimistic philosophy.

Nineteenth-Century Philosophical Pessimism

In the 19th century, philosophical pessimism emerged as a formal movement in Europe, with thinkers explicitly questioning whether life—and humanity as a whole—has positive value.

The pioneer was Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860), who argued that existence is permeated by suffering because it is driven by an insatiable, purposeless Will. Fulfillment is always fleeting; pain and striving dominate. Thus, for Schopenhauer, non-existence would be preferable to existence.
He wrote that the greatest philosophical recognition is that:

“It would have been better if we had never existed.”
(PhilArchive)

Schopenhauer believed that the will-to-live could be turned against itself—through renunciation, celibacy, and asceticism—to bring the cycle of generation to an end. He praised Buddhist and Christian monastic ideals of denying worldly desires, including the desire to procreate.

However, Schopenhauer stopped short of advocating violent or imposed extinction.
In his view, human extinction (and ultimately the extinction of all life) would be good, but could only be achieved ethically through voluntary, gradual turning away from life: a universal adoption of “will-lessness” (Blog of the APA).

Thus, Schopenhauer favored humanity’s extinction in principle, but only via peaceful non-procreation and ascetic discipline—not coercion.

Building on Schopenhauer, other German pessimists made the case even more explicitly that the end of humanity—and even the universe—is desirable.

Eduard von Hartmann (1842–1906), in Philosophy of the Unconscious (1869), blended Schopenhauer’s ideas with a speculative cosmic narrative.
Hartmann suggested that as the “Will” underlying reality comes to self-awareness in humanity, it will intentionally will its own non-existence.

He envisioned a future state in which humanity, having achieved maximum satisfaction and knowledge, recognizes the:

“Vanity and emptiness of existence”
and collectively renounces the will-to-live (PhilArchive).

Once the human race eliminates its will:

• “All the will existing in the universe will disappear, and as a result, the universe itself will disappear.”

In Hartmann’s philosophy, human extinction is the penultimate step toward cosmic salvation—the annihilation of all reality, which he regarded as a final liberation.
Like Schopenhauer, Hartmann insisted this process should be voluntary—a gradual quietus brought about by philosophical realization, not violence (Blog of the APA).

Perhaps the most radical pessimist of this era was Philipp Mainländer (1841–1876).
A disciple of Schopenhauer, Mainländer inverted the usual “will to live” into what he called the “will to death”—a universal drive toward extinction.

In Die Philosophie der Erlösung (“Philosophy of Redemption,” 1876), Mainländer declared:

“Non-being is better than being,”
making the will-to-die the supreme principle of morality (Wikipedia).

Mainländer taught that God began the world by committing metaphysical suicide (splintering Himself into phenomena) and that all of nature is consequently in a slow process of dying.

Mainländer argued that our ethical duty is to aid this process along:

• Refrain from reproduction,
• Accept and even embrace suicide (in some cases),
• Hastening the peaceful extinction of humanity and eventually all matter (Aeon Essays).

Tellingly, Mainländer practiced what he preached—upon receiving the first printed copy of his book, he stood on it and hanged himself, literally sacrificing his life for his philosophy.

He envisioned an ideal “final generation” of humanity:
a cohort that understands the truth of suffering, refrains from reproduction, and willingly fades into oblivion.

Not all 19th-century philosophers who grappled with nihilism and human destiny actually advocated extinction.

Friedrich Nietzsche sharply criticized the pessimists, even as he acknowledged that a “will to nothingness” tempts humanity.

Nietzsche feared that if life’s value were denied, people might embrace nihilism—even to the point of wishing for:

“a general nothingness” or “suicidal destruction of the species.”

But Nietzsche himself championed the will to power:

• A creative overcoming of nihilism,
• The forging of new values,
• The ideal of humanity surpassing itself through the Übermensch (“overman”), not simply eliminating itself.

He derided Mainländer as:

“The sickly sentimental apostle of virginity” (Wikipedia)

and regarded the urge for extinction as a decadent symptom to be overcome.

Nonetheless, the fact that Nietzsche felt compelled to wrestle so deeply with the idea of willed human nothingness illustrates how seriously this theme was treated among late-19th-century thinkers.

Other figures like Olga Plümacher and Julius Bahnsen continued the pessimistic tradition, and the trope “better never to have been born” would echo into the 20th century—both in literature and philosophy.

Modern Antinatalism and Philosophical Pessimism

In the 20th and 21st centuries, “anti-humanity” ideas have been most closely associated with antinatalism—the ethical view that procreation is morally wrong.
Modern antinatalists typically argue that coming into existence is a harm, and that humanity should voluntarily stop having children, allowing the species to die out.

One of the earliest explicit antinatalist arguments came from the Norwegian philosopher Peter Wessel Zapffe (1899–1990).
In his 1933 essay The Last Messiah, and later in On the Tragic (1941), Zapffe contended that human self-awareness tragically overreaches our capacity for happiness.
Humans evolved to seek meaning and immortality, yet the universe offers neither—a condition that breeds existential despair.

To cope, humans use psychological strategies (isolation, distraction, sublimation) to dampen their consciousness.
Zapffe’s bleak conclusion was that humanity is a biologically “over-evolved” species doomed to suffering, and that the compassionate solution is to end the experiment.

He advocated that:

Humans should cease reproducing and “phase out” their own species.
(PhilArchive)

Zapffe proposed that mankind should “delay reproduction below replacement levels” so that:

The human race will eventually die out.

This extinction, achieved through voluntary childlessness, would be a tragedy in one sense (the loss of all human potential) but a net relief in another, as no future generations would endure the absurd predicament we face.
Zapffe’s ideas remained relatively obscure until they were picked up by later pessimists and writers.

One author inspired by Zapffe is the contemporary horror writer Thomas Ligotti.
In his non-fiction book The Conspiracy Against the Human Race (2010), Ligotti popularized philosophical pessimism for a broader audience.

Ligotti, drawing on Zapffe and Schopenhauer, maintains that consciousness is a cruel accident of evolution, and that optimism is a “conspiracy” meant to obscure life’s horror.

While not an academic philosopher, Ligotti explicitly endorses antinatalism and flirts with the notion that:

Human extinction would be a positive outcome.

He chillingly describes humanity as “malignantly useless” and suggests that extinction would serve as the universe’s remedy for the blight of consciousness.

Ligotti’s and Zapffe’s reasoning is largely metaphysical and existential:
they argue that since suffering and futility outweigh life’s modest joys, it would be better if life as a whole simply ended.

This aligns with the broader current of cosmic pessimism, as articulated by thinkers like Eugene Thacker, who emphasize the universe’s inherent indifference to human concerns.
In this view, the disappearance of humanity is not to be feared, but calmly accepted as the logical end to a futile condition.

Another major branch of modern anti-humanity thought is grounded in ethical arguments about suffering and harm.

Here, the leading figure is David Benatar (b. 1966), a South African philosopher who has become the most prominent defender of antinatalism today.

Benatar’s book Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence (2006) crystallizes the antinatalist position with a formal argument.
He posits an asymmetry between pain and pleasure:

• The absence of pain is inherently good,
• The absence of pleasure is not bad (since no one is deprived of that pleasure).

Thus, bringing a person into existence guarantees suffering—a moral harm—while not bringing a person into existence harms no one (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).

In Benatar’s words:

“Our collective nonexistence would be positively good, since it would mean the absence of suffering, and the absence of suffering is good.”
(Aeon Essays)

On the other hand, any happiness future people might experience is not morally required—if they never exist, there is no deprivation.
Thus, existence is always a net harm compared to nonexistence.

The ethical upshot is that procreation is immoral:
it unnecessarily condemns individuals to harm, and the human species ought to stop breeding.

Benatar advocates a peaceful, voluntary extinction via universal antinatalism:
if everyone chose not to have children, humanity would painlessly fade away in one generation, eliminating future suffering (Aeon Essays).

Importantly, Benatar does not advocate violent solutions:
he distinguishes voluntary extinction from violent omnicide (Aeon Essays).

His stance is rooted in negative utilitarian ethics—the minimization of suffering is paramount.

As early as 1958, philosopher R. N. Smart had pointed out that pure negative utilitarianism could imply that a benevolent ruler should painlessly destroy humanity to eliminate all future suffering (Utilitarianism.com).

Smart dubbed this the:

“Benevolent world-exploder”
scenario—and labeled it “patently wicked.”

Benatar’s approach avoids the act of world-exploding, but accepts the result:
no people, no suffering, and thus a better world.

Benatar’s arguments have sparked extensive debate.
Critics question whether the absence of happiness is really “not bad,” and whether his asymmetry argument justifies abstaining from reproduction (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).

Regardless, Benatar has undeniably brought serious philosophical attention to the once-taboo question:

Is human extinction actually an ethical improvement?

Alongside Benatar, other contemporary thinkers have floated similar ideas.

The American philosopher Todd May has recently contemplated whether human extinction might be:

“morally justified,”
in light of the harms humanity inflicts on other sentient beings.

In Should We Go Extinct? (2024), May highlights humanity’s “crimes against nature”—including factory farming, ecological destruction, and the mass extinction of other species (Literary Hub).

He suggests that:

“The morally right thing to do”
might be for us to stop procreating and let our species die out.

May calls this a form of “moral hanging”—a self-imposed sentence on humanity for the enormous suffering it causes.

Although May does not celebrate human extinction, he argues that:

• Continuing to exist and reproduce perpetuates enormous harms,
• Our non-existence would relieve suffering for billions of non-human animals and allow Earth’s ecology to heal.

May’s line of thought combines a pessimistic view of human nature (humans as incorrigibly harmful) with sentientist ethics (equal moral concern for non-human creatures).

Thus, ending humanity becomes not only an act of mercy toward ourselves, but also toward the broader biosphere.

This idea connects to the broader current of environmental anti-humanism—
which will be explored in the next section.

Misanthropy and Cosmic Indifference: Nihilism’s View of Extinction

Another category of anti-humanity thought does not necessarily advocate human extinction as a goal, but rather views it with indifference or resignation, grounded in nihilistic or anti-humanist philosophies.

Thinkers in this vein challenge the common assumption that human existence has special value or that its termination would constitute a moral tragedy.

For example, the political philosopher John Gray (b. 1948) critiques the Enlightenment notion of human importance.
In his book Straw Dogs: Thoughts on Humans and Other Animals (2002), Gray attacks humanism as a secular religion that irrationally enshrines humanity at the center of value (Wikipedia).

Emphasizing an ecologically informed, Darwinian perspective, Gray argues that humans are just another animal species, not the masters of nature.
He approvingly cites James Lovelock’s Gaia hypothesis, which portrays Earth as a self-regulating system that does not need (or benefit from) human presence.

Gray suggests that:

Humans cannot “save the world”—and the world does not need or care to be saved by us.

He predicts that technology, driven by human ambition, will likely render the planet increasingly uninhabitable for ourselves, even as life itself endures.
Far from seeing this as a nightmare, Gray adopts a tone of cold acceptance, even grim solace:

“Happily, humans will never live in a world of their own making.”
(Ted K Archive)

If Homo sapiens were to vanish, Gray does not think any cosmic value would be lost; rather, many other species would likely thrive (Goodreads).

This is a stance of cosmic indifference—the notion that, in the grand scheme, humanity simply does not matter.
It is not that Gray wants human extinction; he emphasizes that humanity will likely bring about its own downfall through its actions.
In a sense, he philosophically prepares us for the possibility that the end of humanity is neither immoral nor deeply significant in a universe that carried on fine for billions of years before us—and will carry on after.

This cosmic perspective has powerful literary and scientific echoes.

The horror writer H. P. Lovecraft described a vast, indifferent cosmos where humans are insignificant and fragile.
Lovecraft famously wrote that humanity is:

“an infinitesimal germ on a little unimportant speck of dust.”

While not a philosopher, Lovecraft’s cosmic nihilism reinforced the idea that human extinction would be metaphysically inconsequential.

Similarly, astronomers and scientists have long reminded us that human life is likely a brief flicker in the universe’s immense timeline.
The eventual extinction of Homo sapiens—whether through natural catastrophe or self-inflicted disasters—is seen as a near certainty, given that 99.9% of all species that ever lived are now extinct.

Some thinkers, like physicist Sir Martin Rees, discuss human extinction calmly in the context of cosmic evolution:
not because they wish it, but to place humanity’s brief existence into proper perspective.

Moral nihilism also intersects here:
if one believes there are no objective values or duties, then human extinction cannot be judged as inherently “bad.”

For instance, mid-20th-century existentialists like Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus grappled with the absurdity of a valueless universe.

Camus famously said that:

“The only serious philosophical question is whether to commit suicide,”
essentially asking if continued human life—individually or collectively—is justified in a meaningless world.

Camus personally answered yes, advocating a defiant affirmation of life’s absurdity.
However, a thoroughgoing nihilist could just as easily answer no, or simply shrug.
If nothing matters, then human extinction doesn’t matter either.

The Russian novelist Nikolai Fedotov once remarked, in a nihilistic vein:

“Really, it would be better if not a single living thing existed.”

Such extreme nihilism was typically expressed rhetorically or emotionally rather than as concrete proposals.
Nonetheless, it underpins the thinking of some anti-humanity proponents:

If life has no inherent purpose or value, and is full of suffering, why not wind down the senseless show?

The Romanian philosopher Emil Cioran (1911–1995) exemplified this attitude.
Cioran was an existential nihilist whose aphorisms dripped with despair.

In The Trouble with Being Born (1973), Cioran flatly states:

“Not to be born is undoubtedly the best plan of all. Unfortunately, it is within no one’s reach.”
(PhilArchive)

Since we are born, Cioran mused, the next best plan is to organize life so that no new births occur.

While he stopped short of advocating mass suicide, Cioran consistently asserted that existence is a mistake—a “blunder”—and that non-existence is the supreme form of mercy.

This is nihilism shading into antinatalism:
an embrace of extinction, not via active destruction, but via terminal self-denial rooted in profound metaphysical disappointment.

Transhumanism and the Post-Human Aspiration

Interestingly, not all who welcome the end of Homo sapiens are pessimistic or nihilistic—some are in fact optimists about what could come after humanity.

Transhumanism and post-humanism are movements that generally value radically transforming human beings (through technology, genetics, AI, etc.).
While most transhumanists value the continuity of persons—seeking life extension, intelligence enhancement, and related goals—a few thinkers have speculated that the replacement of our species might be desirable if it leads to “higher” forms of intelligence or value realization.

The computer scientist Hans Moravec, a pioneer in robotics and AI, is one such figure.

In his book Mind Children (1988), Moravec envisions a future in which human consciousness is uploaded into machines and intelligent robots eventually surpass biological humans.
He explicitly argues that if our human species evolves into or is succeeded by a population of intelligent machines, this should not be seen as tragic.

On the contrary, Moravec views this “machine takeover” as potentially positive—even desirable (Aeon Essays).

Moravec suggests that biological Homo sapiens might become obsolete, but if our mind-children (AI descendants) carry on and exceed our legacy, it would fulfill humanity’s ultimate potential.

According to Moravec:

“The extinction of Homo sapiens would only be a ‘great tragedy’ if it happened without any successor;
if we are replaced by superior artificial intellects, then our demise would be very good.”
(Aeon Essays)

In short, he entertains (and even hopes for) a scenario where humanity as we know it is voluntarily phased out or transcended, giving way to a new kind of post-human existence.

This is an anti-humanity position in a futurist key:
motivated not by suffering or nihilism, but by a vision of maximizing intelligence, complexity, or value.

One can compare this to a parent willingly sacrificing themselves so that their child—who is “greater” in some sense—might thrive.
In Moravec’s view, humanity could gracefully hand off the baton to artificial beings who think faster, suffer less, and perhaps experience richer forms of consciousness.

Philosophers and technologists have debated whether we should want such a handoff.

Oxford philosopher Nick Bostrom has cautioned that an unaligned superintelligent AI might annihilate humanity, an outcome he considers an existential catastrophe.
Yet even Bostrom, in a thought experiment, has described a possible future where digital post-humans—or uploaded minds—look back on biological humanity as a primitive phase.

Some ethicists in the effective altruism community have mused about whether an AI that could create vastly more happiness (for instance, in simulations) might theoretically justify sacrificing the limited well-being of current humans—a troubling calculus that echoes the old “benevolent world-exploder” idea.

These are usually reductio ad absurdum scenarios rather than serious proposals.

However, there exists a strain of transhumanist thought—sometimes called Cosmism or hardcore utilitarian futurism—which holds that what ultimately matters is not who carries value forward, but simply that value (happiness, knowledge, creativity) is maximized in the universe.

From that angle:

If clinging to the human species limits the growth of value, then phasing out humanity in favor of something “better” could be seen as ethically acceptable—or even good.

Such views remain highly controversial and largely speculative.

Moravec’s stance is one of the clearest examples on record where a respected thinker straightforwardly says:

Yes, humanity should perhaps bow out for the machines.

It flips the usual terror of the AI apocalypse:
instead of fearing “the end of humanity,” Moravec imagines it as a culmination—
humanity deliberately transforming itself into a new post-biological form.

This represents a rare optimistic form of anti-humanity position, distinct from the pessimistic and moralistic strains described earlier.

Environmentalist Anti-Humanism: Humans as “Cancer” of the Earth

A final notable context for pro-extinction sentiment is radical environmentalism.
Here, the argument is not about metaphysics or universal suffering, but about the health of the planet’s ecosystems.

If humans are driving mass extinctions, climate change, and the devastation of habitats,
some environmental thinkers conclude that nature would be better off without us.

This is often phrased in explicitly misanthropic terms—for instance, the idea that humanity is a “cancer” or “virus” infecting Earth.

In the 1970s, as awareness of overpopulation and pollution grew, such rhetoric became more common.

The Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard, in his novel Gehen (1971), remarked:

“The earth, on which there are no human beings, attained by gradual extinction, would be, needless to say, the most beautiful.”
(PhilArchive)

This literary quote encapsulates the deep ecological wish to see the natural world restored to its pristine state, unmarred by human exploitation—
a romantic vision of a thriving Earth after humanity’s quietus.

While most environmentalists focus on reducing human impact (not eliminating humans altogether),
a fringe has embraced what is sometimes called ecocentric anti-humanism.

The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement (VHEMT), founded in 1991 by Les U. Knight, is a noteworthy example.

VHEMT’s slogan is:

“May we live long and die out.”

Its members advocate that everyone stop reproducing entirely so that the human race will gradually age and vanish, allowing Earth’s biosphere to heal.

As the VHEMT website puts it:

“Phasing out the human species by voluntarily ceasing to breed will allow Earth’s biosphere to return to good health.”
(PhilArchive)

This is essentially Zapffe’s idea repurposed for ecological rather than existential reasons.

VHEMT couches its message in quasi-altruistic terms:
it is better for all other life on Earth if humans aren’t around.

Unlike some extremist groups, VHEMT explicitly rejects violence and coercion; it is an awareness campaign and personal commitment, not a plan for forced extinction.

While VHEMT is often viewed with curiosity or humor in the media, it represents a genuine ethical stance:
that human existence is environmentally costly and unnecessary, and that the kindest thing we could do for the planet is to bow out voluntarily.

More extreme are the violent or accelerationist expressions of eco-misanthropy.

In 1989, an article titled “Eco-Kamikazes Wanted” appeared in the Earth First! Journal, essentially endorsing omnicidal actions to eliminate humans as a boon to Gaia (Aeon Essays).

A shadowy group calling itself the Gaia Liberation Front later echoed this, advocating the deliberate and complete extermination of mankind to save the biosphere.

These positions remain far outside mainstream green thought and have been strongly condemned by environmental organizations.

They illustrate how valuing “Nature” over “Humanity” can lead to a moral inversion—
where the survival of our species is seen as a negative rather than a good.

One individual often cited (infamously) in this regard is the Finnish deep ecologist Pentti Linkola (1932–2020).

Linkola was a conservationist deeply alarmed by overpopulation and industrial civilization.

Unlike VHEMT’s gentle voluntarism, Linkola provocatively suggested authoritarian measures to drastically reduce the human population.

He once said:

If there were a button that would kill millions of people instantly, he would press it without hesitation (even at the cost of his own life) if he believed it would restore ecological balance.
(Wikiquote)

In an interview, he remarked that a massive third World War wiping out much of humanity would be:

“a happy occasion for the planet.”
(Wikiquote)

Such statements have understandably led critics to label him an eco-fascist.

Linkola argued that:

“The worst enemy of life is too much life.”
(Wikiquote)

He blamed humanity’s unchecked growth for impending global collapse, and his solution was severe, enforced contraction of human numbers and activities “by any means possible.”

While he did not explicitly call for total extinction—he imagined a small remnant population living primitivistically in harmony with nature—his views come close to treating human life as largely dispensable.

It is important to stress that these radical stances are extreme outliers.

Environmental ethics as an academic field does include anti-anthropocentric perspectives, such as deep ecology, which holds that ecosystems and species have value independent of human use.

Some deep ecologists—such as Arne Næss—encouraged dramatically lowering human population and footprint, but not to the point of extinction.

Still, the existence of groups like VHEMT and thinkers like Linkola shows that:

When the locus of value shifts from human well-being to the well-being of “Nature” writ large, the worth of humanity can quickly diminish.

In these frameworks, the end of humanity appears not as a nightmare but as a cleansing or healing event for the planet.

This echoes ancient ideas—like the flood myth or apocalyptic purges—now reframed in secular, ecological language.

Conclusion

Across this survey, we have seen a wide array of motivations behind “anti-humanity” philosophies—yet they converge on the notion that the disappearance of humankind is morally acceptable, desirable, or even necessary.

• Metaphysical pessimists (Schopenhauer, Mainländer, Cioran, etc.) hold that life itself is an evil or an error—often due to unavoidable suffering or the futility of desire—and thus welcome extinction as the final liberation or redemption from a cursed existence.
• Their reasoning is typically axiological: non-existence has relative value over existence (no pain is good; no missed pleasure is not bad).
• Ethical antinatalists (Benatar, Zapffe, and contemporary figures like Todd May) emphasize the real harms that existence entails—for both people and other creatures—and conclude that it is kinder or more righteous to cease procreating.
• Their arguments are grounded in utilitarian/calculative ethics or considerations of guilt and responsibility (e.g., humanity’s guilt toward nature).
• Nihilists and cosmic indifferentists strip away sentimental attachment to our species by asking us to view humanity from an external or cosmic standpoint—where our existence looks arbitrary and pointless (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).

From such a lofty perspective—what Thomas Nagel called the “point of view of the universe”—one might judge that if Homo sapiens vanished, little of value would be lost, especially if no consciousness remained to lament it (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).

Finally, transhumanist or post-human utopians offer a peculiar twist:
they valorize the end of humanity, not out of negativity toward life, but out of a vision of something superior.
For them, what matters is the continuation of intelligent life or value, not the preservation of the specifically human form.

It is worth noting that these positions, while provocative, remain far outside the mainstream valuation of human life.

Most cultures and philosophies hold the survival of humankind as a basic good—or at least treat extinction as a grave tragedy to be averted.

Even many pessimists balk at the leap to actively desiring human extinction:
for example, Schopenhauer and Hartmann envisioned suffering alleviated and perhaps voluntary extinction far in the future, but they did not condone murder or coercion (Blog of the APA).

In contemporary debates on existential risk, almost all philosophers—including staunch utilitarians like Toby Ord and Derek Parfit—argue that human extinction would constitute an enormous loss:

• They measure this loss in terms of billions of potential future lives never lived.
• The loss of future art, knowledge, and joy is regarded as incalculably grave.

The pro-extinction thinkers form a tiny minority dissenting from this consensus.

Yet, their arguments serve an important function:
they force us to confront uncomfortable questions about the value of human existence.

• Are we doing more harm than good—to ourselves, to other beings, to the planet?
• If life has no divine meaning, can we still justify its continuation apart from instinctual fear of death?
• Is attachment to our species perhaps a form of bias or sentimentality?

These are challenging questions with no easy answers.

What is clear is that the “anti-humanity” perspective, in its many guises, has persisted as an undercurrent in intellectual history.

From ancient lamentations that it is “best never to have been born” (The Guardian)
to cutting-edge visions of humanity yielding to intelligent machines (Aeon Essays),
the idea that the end of the human story could be a good thing has been repeatedly voiced.

Every advocate surveyed—religious dualists, pessimist philosophers, antinatalist ethicists, nihilists, transhumanist visionaries, eco-radicals—offers a distinct rationale.

Yet all challenge a core assumption:

That humanity’s continued existence is an absolute, unquestionable good.

Whether one agrees or not, engaging with these grim or unconventional viewpoints can deepen our understanding of humanity’s place in the cosmos and the nature of value itself.

As we face global issues like climate change, artificial intelligence, and the search for meaning in an increasingly secular world,
the once-marginal question—“Would it be better if humanity disappeared?"—has gained a haunting relevance.

These thinkers compel us to:

“Concentrate the mind” (Literary Hub)
on what truly justifies humanity’s survival—and what, if anything, might ethically trump it.

In sum:
While advocates of human extinction are few, and their philosophies often unsettling,
they form an indelible part of the panorama of human thought.

Their radical critiques remind us:

• The value of human life, taken collectively, is not a given but a proposition that must be defended.
• That robust defenses of human worth must survive scrutiny—not be assumed out of habit or fear.

If we can answer their challenge, we reaffirm the preciousness of humanity.
If we cannot, the likes of Mainländer, Benatar, or May may continue to haunt our conscience.

As philosopher Simon Knutsson has noted:

Engaging seriously with pessimistic arguments—however extreme—can “push and pull our considerations” and ensure our optimism is not naive (Aeon Essays).

In confronting the idea of a world without humans, we are truly prompted to ask:

What, if anything, makes the human project worthwhile?

The answer to that question—if it can be given—will determine the fate of our species.

Sources

• Sophocles. Oedipus at Colonus, quoted in I wish I’d never been born: the rise of the anti-natalists | The Guardian.

• Cicero’s report on Hegesias of Cyrene, as summarized in Hegesias of Cyrene - Wikipedia.

• Encyclopedia entry on Bogomils and Cathars, regarding procreation as spiritual imprisonment. Available online.

• Discussion of Buddhism and rebirth cessation (Nirvana) as proto-antinatalism, in What Is Antinatalism?: Definition, History, and Categories.

• Schopenhauer, Arthur. On non-existence as preferable to existence, in What Is Antinatalism?: Definition, History, and Categories.

• Pessimism and human extinction, discussed in Pessimism and Human Extinction | Blog of the APA.

• Hartmann, Eduard von. Future annihilation of existence through renunciation, in What Is Antinatalism?: Definition, History, and Categories.

• Mainländer, Philipp. “Will to death” doctrine and advocacy of voluntary extinction. Available online and discussed in What are the moral implications of humanity going extinct? | Aeon Essays.

• Nietzsche, Friedrich. Criticism of Philipp Mainländer, described as “sentimental apostle of virginity.” Available online.

• Zapffe, Peter Wessel. Advocacy for voluntary extinction through ceasing reproduction. Available online.

• Cioran, Emil. Aphorisms on non-existence and pessimism. Available online.

• Benatar, David. Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence. Asymmetry argument summarized in The Meaning of Life | Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy and discussed in What are the moral implications of humanity going extinct? | Aeon Essays.

• Smart, R. N. 1958. Critique of negative utilitarianism and “benevolent world-exploder” scenario. Available online.

• May, Todd. Should We Go Extinct? (2024). Argument for voluntary extinction to end human-inflicted harm. Available online.

• Moravec, Hans. Mind Children. Envisioning human replacement by superior machine descendants. Discussed in What are the moral implications of humanity going extinct? | Aeon Essays.

• Voluntary Human Extinction Movement (VHEMT) motto and philosophy. Available online.

• Bernhard, Thomas. Statement on Earth’s beauty without humans. Available online.

• Gaia Liberation Front and Earth First! eco-extremism. Available online.

• Linkola, Pentti. Eco-authoritarian quotes and support for mass population reduction. Available online.

• Gray, John. Straw Dogs: Thoughts on Humans and Other Animals. Critique of humanism and anthropocentrism. Available online.

• Nagel, Thomas. “View from nowhere” and cosmic insignificance, in The Meaning of Life | Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

• Knutsson, Simon. Philosophical reflection on pessimistic arguments and existential risk. Available online.