In this hypothetical scenario, we wouldn't know if they have known of our existence for a long time, and maybe even taken precautions like installing some proxy killer probes in case we had a stupid crazy idea like trying to launch a genocidal relativistic missile against them.
So, why would we go so blindly for option 3 and risk it all by being the first ones to defect in an interstellar prisoner's dilemma? Especially if we have good reasons to suspect that they've known about us for long and have remained neutral so far. After all, Proxima Centauri is quite close, and our atmosphere gives ample signals of there being life here. And we haven't been particularly quiet either.
I haven't delved deep into this, so there might be some much more tight logic to it. But my first impression is that the dark forest hypothesis seems a bit forced; sort of constructed backwards in order to explain a cool idea (that space is full of civilizations but everyone is quiet).
For example, one of the assumptions it makes is that obliterating another space-faring civilization is easy. And, at the same time, that we (and everyone) have very little information of other civilizations. I don't see how these two assumptions can hold at the same time.
These scenarios are so funny because they’re totally focused on threats and destruction as the key assumptions, and then they invariably conclude “so we should destroy them”.
And it’s just like, that’s such a colonizer mentality, trying to game out a completely unknown society and immediately focusing on threats, technology, and destruction.
I wonder, what are they like? What could we learn from them? Why are we assuming all beings are violent like us? Does it really make sense to immediately obliterate a culture you’ve never even seen? I seriously doubt it. You could send probes, spies, and try to covertly learn about them. You could send envoys, without revealing your origin, and try to gain knowledge from first contact. You may learn there is no threat, and a great deal to be discovered.
What if they had medicine which could cure every disease? Energy generators which could save our planet? What if they were simply peaceful beings with a rich beautiful history, and no desire or capacity to harm us?
The threat/destruction paradigm feels so simplistic, impoverished, and brutal.
> I wonder, what are they like? What could we learn from them?
Of course I wonder these same things. But when the consequences of becoming known to the wrong civilization are inevitable destruction, what are your alternatives?
We very nearly killed ourselves (we still might!) with nuclear weapons because we thought the other side might shoot first. This is that taken to an even further extreme: we won’t even know if we’ve been shot at until it’s far too late to do anything about it. We likely wouldn’t ever even know who sent the damn thing in the first place.
The balance of things is that silent civilizations with caveman-level technology are more than capable of wiping out noisy and naïve technologically-advanced civilizations.
You can wonder all you like about who and what these beings are and what wonders they must know of, and absolutely none of that will matter when a tungsten rod turns the planet into a fireball because you made the mistake of sending up a signal flare without having any idea that it was safe to do so.
One in a thousand civilizations could be paranoid enough to sterilize other spacefaring civilizations and it would be reason enough to be very, very quiet.
> when the consequences of becoming known to the wrong civilization are inevitable destruction
This is the presupposition that seems entirely baseless to me. An explanation has been constructed that comes to this as the only conclusion, but the assumptions in the explanation seem themselves to come from nothing. I think this is what often called "projection". Human beings are a violent creature that destroys others, so we assume these alien creatures must be. But they are aliens. We presently know nothing about aliens. My view is that we should interrogate the assumptions that lead us to your brutal conclusion. Projection of our own fears is insufficient to make the right choice.
Another question to reflect on: Why do you not destroy every person you come in contact with? They could likely kill you if they tried. But more so than legal consequences, you simply feel no desire to do so. There are reasons for your feeling that way.
If you believe in dark forest, it's not one in a thousand, even benevolent civilizations have a reason to genocide you, because you would shoot them indiscriminately.
So, why would we go so blindly for option 3 and risk it all by being the first ones to defect in an interstellar prisoner's dilemma? Especially if we have good reasons to suspect that they've known about us for long and have remained neutral so far. After all, Proxima Centauri is quite close, and our atmosphere gives ample signals of there being life here. And we haven't been particularly quiet either.
I haven't delved deep into this, so there might be some much more tight logic to it. But my first impression is that the dark forest hypothesis seems a bit forced; sort of constructed backwards in order to explain a cool idea (that space is full of civilizations but everyone is quiet).
For example, one of the assumptions it makes is that obliterating another space-faring civilization is easy. And, at the same time, that we (and everyone) have very little information of other civilizations. I don't see how these two assumptions can hold at the same time.