I lived in Hong Kong for a decade, and during that time, I witnessed the city's two largest pro-democracy movements firsthand. In the latter, [the 2019 Anti-Extradition movement](https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-48656471), my older sister and I even marched. But in the six months of civil unrest that followed — as civilians were repressed with tear gas, rubber munitions, and steel batons — I began to wonder whether democracy was worth it. Across the Pacific Ocean in the red-white-and-blue country of my second citizenship, the "Beacon of Hope" Americans prided themselves on being was looking a little dim. There, where democracy lived, sat a just-impeached president and two bodies of politicians tangled in gridlock. Maybe China's authoritarian system wasn't that bad. By the numbers, its autocracy had worked. Over 40 years, 800 million people had been lifted out of poverty, year-on-year GDP continued to grow at an [astronomical average of 9%](https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/china/overview#:~:text=Since%20China%20began%20to%20open,services%20over%20the%20same%20period.), and its population had [universal health insurance.](https://www.commonwealthfund.org/international-health-policy-center/countries/china) News of the government's genocidal crackdown on the [Uyghur minority](https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/china-xinjiang-uyghurs-muslims-repression-genocide-human-rights) and its 1.4 billion person population's inability to stop it shook me back to reality. The country's fate was in the hands of a man who lacked accountability, and like all of us, his view of reality was imperfect. All humans have rotten ideas, born out of our [distorted perceptions](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8784036/) of the world and our [fallible logic](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/02/27/why-facts-dont-change-our-minds). Without anyone to challenge them, and with enough time, we have an unfortunate knack for making those conceptions a reality. Democracies serve as a counterbalance to this. Though fraught with inefficiencies, democracy mitigates the risk of our mistakes snowballing out of control. It does this with laws like term limits that prevent echo chambers from running our government and with checks and balances — in plain speak, inefficiencies — that slow the materialization of ideas. This process allows us to identify and fix flawed visions before they become a bigger problems. In the 1999 tennis book, *Extraordinary Tennis for the Ordinary Tennis Player*, author Simon Ramo explains that amateur tennis players struggled to succeed when transitioning to professional play because the games they played had fundamentally changed. Amateur matches were "Winner's Games," where 80% of points were scored by incredible shots. Professional matches were "Loser's Games," where 80% of points were scored by avoiding unforced errors and outlasting one's opponent until they flubbed. Attempting to hit extraordinary shots in a Loser's Game hurt players more than it helped by risking an unforced error that jeopardized survival greater than a remarkable shot could secure it. Hence, recognizing one's game and playing its strategy was crucial for longevity. A nation's purpose is to better its citizens' lives, and like tennis, to do so well requires recognizing the global game. While nations appear to compete in Winner's Games — where exciting advances like [quantum computing](https://hir.harvard.edu/the-subatomic-arms-race-mutually-assured-development/) and [hypersonic weaponry](https://www.vox.com/world-politics/2023/3/25/23656256/americas-hypersonic-arms-race-china-russia-missiles) can establish supremacy and improve the lives of one's people — the overarching game that nations play is a Loser's Game against species-wide extinction. If our pursuit of moonshots to one-up one another unleashes a threat that eradicates humanity, it won't matter whether America outpaces China; we'll all be dead. For that reason, buttressing systems like democracy that hinder the development of disasters is in the interests of humankind. Inversely, technologies that accelerate our ability to create disaster should be throttled, even if doing so impairs us from doing some good. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of ChatGPT. It's replaced Wikipedia as my go-to source for introductory topical information, reduces the time it takes me to learn content in-depth, and functions as a smart thesaurus that helps me find the vocabulary to express my thoughts. AI tutors like [Khanmigo](https://www.hbs.edu/faculty/Pages/item.aspx?num=64929) seem like the best remedial option for equalizing our nation's disparate school systems amidst teacher shortages, ensuring a brighter future for millions. Self-driving robo-taxis are likely to reduce the majority of driving fatalities. [Humanoid robotics](https://www.figure.ai/master-plan) may even replace the need for most blue-collar labor, which will lower prices, make a [universal basic income](https://moores.samaltman.com) feasible, and free our time. But at what cost? The potential benefits of AI are immense, but more so are the consequences. Enhanced cyberattacks, hyper-realistic disinformation campaigns, and bioweapons would not be unfortunate, they would be terminal. Giving up a brighter future is always a better choice than having no future at all. We once could rely on trial and error to test whether a new idea or technology deserved to stick around. But now, with the power of current technologies, the consequences of making wrong moves are intolerably high. A wager of our extinction for faster tech development should be met with resistance. Is an advancement that brings our species closer to extinction progress? We need to consider slowing this down so we can get this right.