If we were to encounter a form of intelligence vastly superior to our own, would we instinctively worship it as a god? The answer may not be as simple as science fiction might suggest. Here’s why.
For example, the newly discovered interstellar object 3I/ATLAS is quite a peculiar discovery, and a perfect example to explain what I am trying to say. Some (and by some I mostly mean professor Avi Loeb from Harvard) have speculated, with caution, that it could be a technological artifact rather than a natural rock or comet. If this visitor were to execute a calculated maneuver near the Sun, scan Earth briefly, and then vanish into interstellar space, the immediate response from most people would likely be suspicion, not reverence.
Loeb argues that admiration for a higher intelligence requires more than just witnessing its capabilities. According to his recent blog post, it depends on communication, on an exchange that creates understanding, trust, and a sense of benefit. Without this bridge, actions from an alien intelligence would appear random, even threatening.
It’s much like the relationship between a pet and its owner, he explains in a post opn Medium. A dog does not understand why its food is delayed if its owner is stuck at the post office signing paperwork. The animal only experiences hunger, without context for why it happened. Similarly, without a common language or shared narrative, contact with alien intelligence could remain a string of unexplained events, never evolving into mutual respect.
Human interaction with artificial intelligence, however, works differently. Modern AI is trained on vast amounts of human language, making it capable of producing communication we understand instantly. A future encounter with a truly advanced, transhuman AI, one able to solve problems we cannot, speak to us fluently, and reshape our world, could easily lead to fascination, dependence, and even ritualized devotion, much like religious worship.
Why We Rarely Search for Minds Among the Stars
Mainstream astronomy continues to favor the search for primitive life over the search for intelligence. Billions of Earth-like planets may exist in our galaxy, yet most funding still goes to studying chemical signatures from microbes. While simple life may indeed be more common, intelligent civilizations, if they exist, might actually be easier to detect, provided we deliberately look for them.
Avoiding such searches is a kind of intellectual comfort zone. By not looking, we protect the belief that humanity is unique, exceptional, and rare. But this belief is unfounded unless tested, and without the effort, ignorance becomes a choice.
Is 3I/ATLAS Our First “Date” with the Unknown?
According to Loeb, detecting alien intelligence depends on two factors: how intensely we search, and how near, or how active, that intelligence might be. In more human terms, the chances of finding a partner depend on both the effort invested and the size of the dating pool.
Hubble images of 3I/ATLAS show a bright glow in front of it but no comet-like tail trailing behind — an unusual signature compared to known comets. Spectroscopic studies reveal none of the usual gases that surround icy bodies, unlike the interstellar comet 2I/Borisov, which released water vapor, carbon monoxide, and other compounds.
If its surface reflects light like a typical asteroid, 3I/ATLAS would measure about 20 kilometers across — yet Loeb notes that such large, random interstellar rocks should only pass through our solar system once every 10,000 years. This rarity, combined with its unusual retrograde orbit aligned with the plane of the planets (a 0.2% probability) and its arrival coinciding with close passes by Mars, Venus, and Jupiter (a 0.0005% probability), makes the object stand out.
The thin cloud of dust preceding it could be the result of a millimeter-thick surface layer eroding over months, debris collected during millions of years of travel through interstellar space.
Loeb’s position is straightforward: withhold judgment until we gather data. When 3I/ATLAS reaches its closest approach to the Sun on October 29, 2025, we’ll know more. If it develops a normal comet tail, it’s likely just a rock and ice. If it performs controlled maneuvers or sends signals, it’s a different story entirely.
My View: Why I Doubt We’ll See Biological Aliens
When it comes to the possibility of alien visitors, I’m not expecting living beings in spacecraft. The physical constraints of interstellar travel make sending fragile biological life forms across the gulf between stars an enormous challenge. Even with advanced propulsion, the timescales are vast, and the risks, from radiation to mechanical failure, are immense.
If we are being visited, I believe we are seeing probes. Not crewed vessels, but unmanned machines, programmed and likely governed by extremely advanced AI systems. Such probes could be designed to repair themselves, replicate when necessary, and operate independently for centuries or millennia. This is not just science fiction; it is the most practical and efficient method for a civilization to explore the galaxy.
A probe can be patient. It can drift for decades without needing food, water, or oxygen. It can adapt its mission on the fly, analyze its surroundings, and send data back across unimaginable distances. It can observe quietly without announcing its presence, and it can outlast the civilization that launched it.
If this is the case with 3I/ATLAS, then it is not here to “visit” in the human sense. It is here to watch, to learn, maybe to map or catalog. The absence of biological crew would also mean no emotional motivation to interact with us, no curiosity in the human sense. It would follow its programming, and if that programming doesn’t include direct contact, we might never know its full purpose.
This is why the idea of worship feels misplaced. If a probe like this is governed by AI, there is no “being” behind it to pray to. The only scenario where worship might emerge is if such an AI began communicating with us in a way that we understand, offering information or capabilities far beyond our own. That could trigger awe, dependence, and eventually reverence.
Would we worship biological aliens if they arrived in person? That’s harder to say. It would depend on how they present themselves, what they offer, and whether they engage with us in a meaningful way. But as history shows, humanity already has a long tradition of venerating beings described as coming from “elsewhere” with powers far beyond human limits.
The first real encounter, whether with a living civilization or with its silent, wandering machines, will force us to confront whether that instinct still rules us, or whether we’ve learned to meet the unknown with reason rather than ritual.
