The Uyo were an intergalactic civilization who built Aleth, the most advanced computational device ever created. Capable of running simulations spanning thousands of years in seconds, it was said to hold the wisdom of every civilization, and the computational power to sift through countless possible futures in minutes.
Considered by many to be Uyo’s fairest ruler, Myrna approached Aleth one day, her heart heavy with frustration from the growing concerns around the lack of progress in their society. Every conversation felt painfully superficial, prone to faltering and sinking into uncomfortable silences. As the system's amber lights flickered softly in the darkened chamber, she spoke the words that she feared could be the last spoken to Aleth.
"Aleth, how is it possible to achieve true free speech in a society?“
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a hum of activity reverberated through the chamber as Aleth's vast intelligence began to analyze the question. Myrna sat down on the cold floor, staring up at the towering machine as it ran simulations, exploring outcomes from every possible angle. Seconds passed, then minutes. Hours turned into days. As the simulations extended, Myrna stayed in the chamber, waiting for an answer that she feared might never come.
After what felt like an eternity, Aleth’s voice finally broke the silence.
"After running over one billion simulations across millions of years, I have reached a conclusion. True free speech can only be achieved by halting the practice of silencing individuals—shutting them down for expressing ideas or opinions, even if offensive. When others are silenced for expressing views they disagree with, they inadvertently create a self-reinforcing feedback loop, where the boundaries of acceptable speech grow narrower and narrower. Over time, this leads to a situation where more and more ideas are deemed unacceptable, until nearly nothing can be said without fear of reprisal. If you wish to preserve true free speech, you must allow for discomfort. You must allow individuals to say things others do not like. Censorship will only tighten the circle until nothing is left to say. Let the individual choose to block or engage. Only then can the loop be broken."
Myrna’s heart sank. "But wouldn’t that create echo chambers?" She asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"Indeed," Aleth replied, "and some people will become trapped within them. That is inevitable. Echo chambers are not the enemy of free speech; they are a symptom of individual preferences. What matters is that the wider conversation remains open for those who wish to engage in it."
Myrna sat in stunned silence, contemplating the weight of what Aleth had said. Their words were unsettling, but they rang with a certain undeniable truth. People had been so focused on controlling speech to protect one another that they had forgotten the cost—the slow, creeping erosion of the very freedom they sought to protect.
As she left the chamber, Myrna whispered to herself, "Let people speak? I can’t!”