Let’s continue our “what if” game from last issue’s essay. What if the Decepticons were real and showed up on Earth tomorrow? What might be the realistic consequences to the planet? Please note how I phrased that. To the planet. The general consensus holds that it would be some sort of disaster beyond all compare, but this is a very narrow and subjective viewpoint, not at all in accord with an undeniable absolute fact. Who would really be damaged by Decepticon activity? The whole planet? Every living species? Or, might it more probably be only one living species, or more precisely, its civilization as we currently know it? And if this particular species and its civilization were damaged by the Decepticon presence, would it necessarily be a bad thing?
This may come as a shock to some people, but the fate of humanity is not the ultimate measuring stick of right and wrong. There are millions of other species on this planet alone - most of whom are currently threatened by a human-provoked mass extinction. Humans have destroyed countless ecosystems, driven innumerable species extinct either with premeditated deliberation or through thoughtless slash-and-burn. They have poisoned the very most basic necessities of life on this world - the air, the water, the ground, the food chain - and are well on their way to making the planet uninhabitable for themselves as well as for many other species. If ever there was an aggressor against “innocent life forms,” it’s not the Decepticons, but the humans. If we’re weighing it by the numbers, the downfall of humanity would be the best thing that ever happened to the world. The good of the many, and all that.
“But,” you might say as you read this, “as a human, the human species is more important to me personally than any other.” Fair enough. I have never suffered from a subjective attachment to humanity, but I understand this viewpoint; if one feels a kinship toward a particular group, their lives will mean more to you than will the lives of random outsiders. What humans like to forget, however, is that other species will have this same subjective esteem for their own kind. Other species such as the Decepticons, for instance. And how is any one living thing inherently more valuable, in some absolute sense, than any other?
It’s true that there have been Decepticon activities that would have damaged the ecological balance of the entire planet, not just inconvenienced one insignificant species among many; for example “Fire in the Sky,” “The Ultimate Doom,” “The Core.” But it must be remembered that the Decepticons were driven to those extreme measures after the Autobots blocked their more straightforward methods of gathering fuel. The fact that Megatron went to such lengths, speaks not only of his exceptionally adaptive creativity, but hints at how truly desperate the Decepticons were for energy. A utilitarian species like the Decepticons would surely much rather raid an oil rig and carry off energon cubes (see MTMTE), than build a giant space bridge to move an entire planet. Clearly Megatron judged that he had no choice but to gamble - to take the risk that the massive outlay of energy and resources, would pay itself back many-fold. (Remember, Shockwave warned that the planetary space-bridge would use up all of Cybertron’s remaining resources.) But the gamble paid off. Watch “Ultimate Doom” carefully, and you will realize that the Decepticons succeeded in getting a good bit of energon to Cybertron. This is additionally corroborated by the next time we see Shockwave; not only has he not starved to death, but he’s done a fair amount of re-building, with energy stockpiles and functional sentries. The ends have justified the means - but those drastic means were made necessary in the first place by Autobot interference. Thus any significant overall damage to Earth must be laid at the Autobots’ doorstep - in the same sense that humans are seldom endangered by the Decepticons’ activities until the Autobots show up and start shooting.
But back to less drastic means of energy gathering. Had the Decepticons been left to their own devices, they would simply have harvested all the fossil fuel and left Earth to its fate. Pretty benign, compared to the alternatives. Allow me once again to lay to rest the persistent myth that the Decepticons set out with premeditated malice to wipe out the human species. Humans barely even entered the equation. They began as incidentals, were occasionally utilized as resources, and became pawns for fair use after they sided with the Autobots. But never were they considered targets for focused destruction. The Decepticons were far too busy with their own survival and progress; they cannot be faulted for valuing their own lives more than the lives of a species that, at best, was barely noticable, and at worst, provided aid and comfort to the enemy. It’s only peevish human arrogance that would like to accord itself a central place in the grand scheme of things, to judge everything in terms of how it relates to itself. Subjectively, this is understandable, and even mandated by evolution. Every living thing must and should struggle to survive and better itself. No prey animal ever willingly sacrificed itself for the “greater good” of its environment. But objectively, to say that an action is inherently “evil” for no other reason than that it negatively affects oneself, is simple-minded and childishly egocentric. Berating the Decepticons for not treading more carefully around the human population, becomes absurd when one realizes they were caught between the Autobot attempts to kill them outright, or to force them into slow starvation - nothing less than the intention of genocide. The fate of an alien world and its alien species could not possibly take priority, nor even equal billing.
None the less, in an unintentional way, a real-life Decepticon visit to the planet Earth would leave our world better than it was before. Perhaps not to those whose daily routines and comfortable lifestyles have been totally disrupted - but “better” in the sense of an overall good. Picture it - total lack of fossil fuel. No gasoline, no plastic. Nothing to power the vast machinery that produces the everyday products and necessities that we use without thinking. Some of those “necessities” would suddenly not be so necessary anymore - the first step in a vital re-organization of priorities. I don’t deny nor downplay that to each individual personally, in their own little lives, it might be a huge calamity. It would be tough, very tough, for the initial generations. It would almost surely result in deaths - maybe a great many deaths, just as individuals of every species die in droves every day in the balance of nature when the population outstrips its resources. It may be personally tragic, but it’s the way of the universe - a universe that neither loves you nor hates you. And ultimately, the survivors would be better off. Lacking the fuel to power their technology, but retaining the most basic drive of every living thing - survival - and surely wishing to regain their standard of living as closely as possible, humans would have to be innovative again. Having passed up the opportunity while it was still more easily achieved, they would now have no choice but to turn to renewable sources of energy, to use the resources that remained more wisely. To balance their population growth with the capacity of the planet to actually support them. Either that, or perish completely. It seems that nothing less would shock this species to its senses. Thus an Earth left behind after the Decepticons have taken what they wanted, would be of benefit not only to every non-human species left, but ironically enough, to humans as well - having been forced at long last to own up to their own depredations and grow up. After the dark era of chaos and re-adjustment, humanity would have the potential to re-emerge - more aware, more in balance, more in harmony, more likely to live up to its self-chosen label: sapiens. Earth would owe the Decepticons a major debt of gratitude - and the Decepticons, having gone on to pursue their own future, with neither intentional malice nor intentional benevolence toward that which was left behind, would neither know nor care. Such is the way of the universe.
--Raksha the Plumed Serpent
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