The 23rd Century: The Golden Age Of Modern History?

The 23rd Century: The Golden Age Of Modern History? 

As we move further into modern history, the West finds itself in a period of transformation marked by rapid technological advances, shifting social paradigms, and deep reflections on the trajectory of civilization. While the present may feel unstable, these are the throes of a society maturing into something greater. Looking forward, the 23rd century holds the potential to be the apex of modern history, a golden age comparable to the High Middle Ages or the Pax Romana, not just in material achievement, but in human stability, prosperity, and cultural cohesion. By this time, the modern era will not only be accepted but will have matured, finding its rhythm and balance in a way that earlier centuries struggled to achieve. To conclude this series, it only makes sense that I make a post the only stage I have left to discuss. I began this series starting with the 16th century and have covered every other century up to the present day and even made speculations about the future by comparing the 22nd century to the 12th century. But if the 12th century was acceptance and the 16th century was shock that resets the cycle, what defines the centuries in between? This is the 13th century peace stage and I believe the 23rd century will possibly mirror this century in many ways. The peace stage is arguably the first stage of grief that isn't a stage at all, as it is post grief. After the acceptance stage, you finally make peace. You overcome grief. Now, knowing that a new death will eventually ruin this peace may seem like a contradiction, but that's just how tranquil the peace stage is. You can even make peace with the fact that the peace will end. You can make peace with the reality that people will endure each and every stage of grief all over again. That is making peace with life. In some sense, this might be the height of human consciousness, the best place to be in the cycle.

The 23rd century, by my trajectories, will be a time of remarkable stability. The chaos of the early modern era, from the industrial revolution through the social media age, will have settled into a more sustainable environment. Just as the High Middle Ages brought relative peace and order to Europe after centuries of turmoil, the 23rd century will emerge from the upheavals of climate change, resource scarcity, and geopolitical realignment into a period of long standing peace. New systems of governance will reflect a deeper maturity and collaboration among nations. War, once a persistent feature of human life, will still exist but people will make peace with the fact that war will always happen.

Much like the Pax Romana provided Rome with two centuries of internal peace, trade, and cultural flourishing, the 23rd century will likely see a similar era of prosperity. Global communication networks, technology, and new infrastructure will allow people to focus not on survival, but on enrichment: of the mind, the culture, and the environment. Perhaps more importantly, by the 23rd century, people will have reached an emotional and philosophical maturity regarding the modern world. Today, many still feel the tension between nostalgia for the premodern era and the disorientation of the rapidly changing present. The rise of nationalism, the appeal of romanticized pasts, and resistance to technological shifts all reflect this deep unease with modernity.

But in the 23rd century, that resistance will largely have faded. Just as the people of the High Middle Ages accepted that the classical world was gone and the medieval world is here to stay, future generations will embrace modernity not as an aberration but as the natural part of civilization. Digital life, artificial intelligence, and possible planetary colonization will not be sources of anxiety but expressions of human potential. The pre modern world, with its limitations, superstitions, and rigid structures, will be seen with respect but not as a viable model to return to. This cultural maturity will usher in a new sense of global identity. Language barriers may soften, political ideologies may converge, and education will be universally accessible and ethically guided. The modern human, by then, will not be an anxious product of a transitional age, but a confident participant in a unified, complex, yet coherent world.

With peace and stability as its foundation, the 23rd century will likely host a renaissance of thought and creativity. Humans will turn inward, and outward, to explore consciousness, ethics, art, and science in ways we are only beginning to imagine. The 13th century saw the birth of Gothic architecture, Scholasticism, and early universities. The Pax Romana produced the flowering of Latin literature, Roman law, and engineering marvels. Similarly, the 23rd century may give rise to new forms of storytelling about both the biological and digital experience, and philosophical systems adapted to modern perspectives. Even in more mundane matters, it seems like family life was cozy and that people were generally the most happy during this time. I'm not saying that the 13th century was perfect or some utopia, but compared to the many centuries before and after, the 13th century seems pretty idyllic. 

In the previous post, I mentioned that each century has a masculine or a feminine style, and a quality of either being youthful or elderly. The peace era seems to transcend this, almost sort of being a combination of all of these simultaneously. It's a unity of the sexes and has both the wisdom of the old and the innocence of youth. It is in essence a team century. Teamwork was not just a necessary part of survival in 13th century Medieval Europe but it was a dominant cultural and practical theme that shaped both historical events and the popular stories of the time. In the 13th century, cooperation and interdependence were central to both real life and the imaginative world of the period. 

Monarchs and nobles frequently formed strategic alliances to defend or expand their territories. One notable example is the Seventh Crusade, led by King Louis IX of France. Crusades, by nature, were cooperative military endeavors involving knights, nobles, clergy, and even commoners from various European regions. Though driven by religious motivations, these campaigns could not have functioned without extensive planning, coordination, and shared goals across national and social boundaries. Another key example of teamwork is found in the rise of medieval guilds. As cities grew during the 13th century, artisans and merchants formed guilds to protect their trades, regulate quality and prices, and train apprentices. These organizations required collaboration, shared standards, and mutual support. Guild members understood that their individual success was tied to the strength and reputation of the collective. This model of economic and social teamwork laid important groundwork for later forms of civic and economic cooperation. Monastic communities also embodied teamwork in religious and agricultural labor. Monks, particularly in the Benedictine and Cistercian orders, lived according to strict communal rules that emphasized prayer, study, and manual work. Their monasteries were often self-sufficient centers of learning and production, surviving and thriving through disciplined teamwork.

Just as cooperation was essential in the historical societies of 13th century Europe, it was also a major theme in the literature and folklore of the time. Medieval romances and epics often celebrated bonds of loyalty, brotherhood, and mutual sacrifice. The Arthurian legends are among the most enduring examples of teamwork in medieval storytelling. Although the origins of King Arthur stories predate the 13th century, many influential versions, such as those by French writer Chrétien de Troyes, were widely circulated and elaborated during this period. The Knights of the Round Table, a group united by shared values of chivalry and service, exemplify idealized teamwork. They embarked on quests together, defended the realm, and held each other to codes of honor and conduct. Despite conflicts and betrayals within the stories, the underlying message was clear: noble goals require cooperation and mutual respect. Stories like The Song of Roland, though originally composed in the 11th century, remained popular in the 13th century and emphasized themes of loyalty, camaraderie, and sacrifice for one's comrades. Roland’s heroism is deeply tied to his devotion to Charlemagne and his fellow knights, reinforcing the ideal that true greatness lies in solidarity, not isolation. Even religious narratives of the time often portrayed saints and biblical heroes as part of larger spiritual communities or collaboration. Pilgrimage tales and miracle stories told in sermons or literature frequently highlighted the value of collective faith and shared devotion. 

Perhaps a pivotal example of teamwork in 13th century Medieval Europe is the creation and signing of the Magna Carta in 1215. While often remembered as a document limiting the power of the English monarchy and laying early foundations for constitutional government, it was also the result of extensive cooperation among different social and political actors. The Magna Carta did not arise from a single ruler’s decree or a lone revolutionary; it was a negotiated agreement between King John of England and a coalition of rebellious barons, supported by clergy and other influential figures. This moment in history represents teamwork not just in negotiation, but in shared resistance and vision. The barons, though of differing backgrounds and interests, united around a common goal: to protect their rights and demand accountability from the crown. Their ability to present a united front forced King John to listen, and eventually concede to their demands under pressure. Even the Church, particularly through the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton, played a mediating role showing how different power structures cooperated to reach a broader compromise. Though the immediate effects of the Magna Carta were limited, King John quickly sought to annul it, the event symbolized the growing power of collective will. It demonstrated that teamwork among social elites could push back against autocratic rule, setting a precedent for future political cooperation in Europe.

Teamwork in the 13th century was not confined to internal European dynamics; it also extended across cultural and religious divides, particularly in the interactions between the East and West. Although the period is often remembered for religious conflict, such as the Crusades, it also featured significant moments of diplomacy, cultural exchange, and even military cooperation. One striking example is the diplomatic engagement between Western Europeans and the Mongol Empire. As the Mongols expanded westward under Genghis Khan and his successors, European powers began to see the potential for strategic alliances. Envoys were exchanged, such as the famous Franciscan friar Giovanni da Pian del Carpine, who traveled to the Mongol court in the 1240s. These missions required careful coordination, not only between different European factions but also across languages, religions, and vast distances. The goal was to forge an alliance between Christendom and the Mongols against the shared threat of Islamic powers, particularly the Mamluks. Though these alliances were never fully realized, the effort itself illustrates a broader willingness to engage in cross-cultural teamwork for mutual benefit. Furthermore, trade between East and West flourished during this time, especially along the Silk Road and through Mediterranean ports like Venice and Genoa. These routes were made possible by cooperation between Muslim, Christian, and even Mongol intermediaries. Merchants, translators, and diplomats formed ad hoc international teams to move goods, ideas, and technologies across vast territories. The increasing availability of Eastern luxuries such as silk, spices, and paper in Europe depended on this intricate web of collaborative exchange. 

The 23rd century is likely to mirror the teamwork driven spirit of the 13th century. In the 13th century, teamwork emerged after centuries of fragmentation, violence, and ideological rigidity. People had endured shock, denial, anger, and depression, and finally found balance in shared goals and collaborative structures like guilds, monastic orders, and legal reforms like the Magna Carta. Similarly, the 23rd century is a post depression era following the burnout and disillusionment of the 21st century. After generations of division, individualism, and digital noise, people will long for belonging, stability, and mutual trust. In the 13th century, cooperative institutions flourished: guilds regulated markets, monasteries sustained agriculture and education, diplomatic and trade routes extended across continents, and even the Magna Carta was a multilateral act of resistance. The 23rd century may see similar systematized, low conflict cooperation: less ideological warfare, more practical agreements with consensus governance, assisted coordination, and post polarization culture, where teamwork is not idealized but assumed, like a background process running everything. 13th century narratives (Arthurian legends, The Song of Roland) praised loyalty, honor, and group heroism. Their heroes rarely acted alone, they served something greater. The 23rd century will likely produce storytelling that avoids edgy individualism in favor of uplifting ensemble narratives, where characters thrive by trusting one another and fitting into wider world. Just as the 13th century wasn’t utopian, the 23rd won’t be either. But both are characterized by emotional peace: no longer fighting the past, nor trying to restart it. Instead, they embody a graceful "moving on", where people work together not because they must survive, but because they understand they’re not alone.

It’s important to emphasize that peace in both the 13th and 23rd centuries does not mean the absence of conflict or division. Human beings are inherently social, but also inherently combative so disagreement, rivalry, and struggle will always persist. However, what defines both peace stages is that conflict is no longer the primary identity of the era. In the 13th century, even amidst Crusades and dynastic tensions, the formation of guilds, religious orders, and transcontinental trade routes proved that collaboration mattered just as much as confrontation. Similarly, in the 23rd century, people may still disagree and fight politically, culturally, even spiritually, but the dominant cultural logic will revolve around functioning with systems, not overthrowing them. Teamwork will no longer be viewed as idealistic or naive, but as practical, necessary, and emotionally mature. In both centuries, people learn that having allies is as crucial as having adversaries, and that collective harmony is not weakness.

You might ask, “Hey what a minute. Doesn't this whole series debunk the premodern world? How can you say that and then say that in 200 years we're going to live in the High Middle Ages part 2? Isn't that a contradiction?" For the record, I do think the pre modern world is in fact dead. I don't think that eras like the Middle Ages will ever come back, but that doesn't mean that the peace style won't return. It won't be identical with the 13th century, but it has some similarities. I feel like people will take issues last time with me comparing centuries like say the 10th century with the 20th century and acting like they’re the same, since the trenches of World War I, the bombings of World War II, and 1960s counterculture doesn't quite evoke the same imagery as Vikings, castles, and monasteries. But the political, technological, and cultural differences of these two eras are quite vast. Even with the same theme, centuries a 1000 years apart cannot be identical, only similar. As Mark Twain put it “History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes”. The 23rd century can't be an exact copy of the 13th century, but it can still mimic it in several ways. 

I’d say the peace era of the 23rd century serves the most interestingly as a mirror to the testing stage of the 20th century. They’re both opposite ends of the cycle yet both have that experimental and maturing theme. I'd say the 23rd century is essentially “the 20th century but likable”. Whereas testing is the young adult woman, alone, expected to find her purpose by herself with no connection, peace is the cohesive team unit, the woman is part of a larger network. One in the testing era is left to their own devices sometimes, literally. And that era is known for its escapism. It's also more individualistic and an obsession with the self is a common theme in the 20th century, especially the late 20th century, hence the insulting term “the me generation”. And this lack of community and obsession with the self leads to anxiety and uncertainty which goes hand in with that escapism. One distracts themselves by watching TV or buying stuff to fill the void. Someone in the peace era is quite the opposite. They are more integrated into the larger community. The difference between the 20th century and the 23rd century is that the 20th century involves experimenting on people, whereas the 23rd century involves experimenting with people. The 20th century would be like experimenting with crash tests on people and taking notes on a clipboard, whereas the 23rd century will be like doing a group experiment or exercise involving yourself and others. 

I believe that the community will come back in a major way in the 23rd century. Going back to the testing of the 20th century for a moment, the end of the century saw the beginning of the internet. And when the internet began, it was a “wild west”. It was all about the individual. Today, this is no longer the case. The Internet is all about various communities. But these communities are quite polarized and at odds with one another. In 30 years, we've gone from instant messaging to warring factions feuding online. So, while we've gone from individualism to collectivism, we also live in divisive times. In another 200 years, I predict that the internet will become a much more cohesive and less hostile place that's much more unified. Of course, this means the internet will become much more censored and boring overall, but that's the trade off. Some people will abandon the internet en mass and form some luddite community and might form villages entirely devoid of any tech after the 20th century, at most just old school tech like phonebooks and VCRs are only available, while others will use the internet like guilds or apprenticeships to offer trade skills online and train people into careers virtually. Now, people today offer trade skills and careers online but it could probably sky rocket during this century. Maybe virtual reality will finally take off for real this time in the 23rd century and there will be a technological equivalent to monasteries. Maybe even something like an online equivalent of manorialism could take off in the 23rd century. We are just in too miserable and divisive times for something like that to appeal to people at the moment.

In the grand arc of human history, golden ages emerge not from utopian dreams, but from hard won stability. The 23rd century, shaped by centuries of conflict, adaptation, and invention, may well be the era in which modernity reaches its full bloom. With peace, prosperity, and maturity, it will be a century that historians of the 25th and 26th centuries look back upon as the summit of the modern era, the time when the West finally found its footing, not in the ruins of the past, but in the firm ground of its future.

One of the defining features of any golden age in history has been the flourishing of trade and intercultural exchange. During the Pax Romana, an extensive network of Roman roads and sea routes allowed for unprecedented movement of goods, ideas, and people across the Mediterranean world. Similarly, the 13th century Silk Road under the Mongol Empire connected East and West in a web of commerce, diplomacy, and cultural transmission. In the 23rd century, a new version of this ancient ideal will emerge, not as a single road or corridor, but as a truly global, integrated system of peaceful exchange. And unlike today, where globalization remains politically and culturally contentious, this future globalism will be embraced as a stabilizing and enriching force.

By then, the very concept of nationalistic economic isolation will seem as outdated as feudal tribute or mercantilism. People will look back on the trade wars and protectionist policies of earlier centuries as growing pains in the development of a modern era civilization. The tensions that once accompanied globalization, concerns about inequality, cultural erasure, or corporate overreach, will have been addressed through inclusive and accountable global frameworks. These frameworks will prioritize local identities while maintaining global cooperation, striking a balance that today seems elusive. One of these frameworks might mean a decrease in immigration with governments highly regulating immigration and the 23rd century will see an increase in border security. As well as the fact that, by that time, because of climate change, the environment will be way too hostile and dangerous making it even more difficult for people to leave and take the risk like today. Much like how in the 13th century, it saw trade and communication but kingdoms still set up gates and moats to protect themselves as well as travel back then being more dangerous, thus people were born, raised, and died in the same village their whole life. Now you might be wondering, "how can globalism be embraced and we see a decrease in a language barrier but we see more policies against immigration"? To be fair, all systems and ideologies have pushed policies and beliefs that seem like contradictions in an attempt to appeal to people and try to compromise. We've seen this occur with conservatism, liberalism, even fascism and communism, so it's likely globalism will also do this. In an attempt to be appealing to people, globalism will try to push some nationalist beliefs so people can get behind with it. You can call it "globalism with nationalist tendencies" or "a slightly more protectionist version of globalism". We are just way too divided and cynical right now and want to push our one way of thinking, that such a compromise will seem absurd to us. 

The "New Silk Road" of the 23rd century will span continents. Powered by clean, efficient transportation systems such magnetic levitation, autonomous shipping, and perhaps even quantum logistics, trade will be swift, safe, and nearly frictionless. But more importantly, it will be peaceful. The route itself will be symbolic, a tangible sign that the nations of the world are no longer in a race for domination, but in a shared pursuit of prosperity in this future, globalism will no longer be seen as a threat to identity, but a framework for mutual respect and enrichment. Just as Persian rugs, Chinese silk, Roman glassware, and Arabic science once flowed freely across Eurasia, so too will the 23rd century see a dynamic, multi directional exchange of art, cuisine, literature, technology, and philosophy. Cultures will no longer compete for supremacy, but influence one another in natural, collaborative ways. Digital platforms, by then highly immersive and participatory, will serve as arenas of shared creativity, allowing a South American engineer, a West African philosopher, and an American artist to work together on projects that transcend geography. Global festivals, co created narratives, and hybrid traditions will flourish. The divisive rhetoric of "us vs. them" will give way to a sense of "we," not through homogenization, but through deliberate, practiced empathy. Economically, the 23rd century global order will favor cooperation over competition. The scars of 20th and 21st century economic systems, boom bust cycles, rampant inequality, environmental degradation, will still exist. It existed long before today and it will exist long after today. The 13th century saw the very unequal system of feudalism, but despite people made peace with that lifestyle, knowing God made them peasants and thus they should work and die as peasants. The peace stage for people is less about the state of society and more like the state of people's minds by then. Maybe living conditions will be better, maybe it'll be worse, we don't know. But people will see that they're just regular people and won't ever be part of the elite and just say "that's life". But governments will also have incentives and social programs to the common people so they won't rebel, leading to a somewhat more sustainable and equitable model. Nations and regions will still specialize in trade, but not to the exclusion or exploitation of others. Instead of exploiting comparative advantage for competitive gain, they will offer their strengths as part of a shared planetary portfolio. Just as cities along the ancient Silk Road thrived not by dominating one another but by offering safe passage and mutual hospitality, the hubs of 23rd century trade will function as collaborative waypoints, with intellectual, cultural, and logistical rest stops that serve all who pass through. The 23rd century’s golden age will be defined not only by its internal peace and cultural maturity, but by its outward openness: a willingness to engage, share, and grow together across old boundaries. Globalism, once feared and resisted, will be redefined as a human centered, culturally respectful, and economically balanced system. Trade will no longer be a zero sum game, but a shared lifeline, as a global Silk Road weaving together the diverse tapestry of humanity. This will be the defining hallmark of the 23rd century: not just the mastery of the material world, but the wisdom to walk it together in peace.

While the 23rd century may be remembered as the peak of modern history, an era of peace, prosperity, and global cooperation, it will not be without its flaws. Just as the Pax Romana saw political corruption, class disparity, and the occasional civil unrest, and the High Middle Ages were not free of feudal oppression or religious intolerance, the golden age of the modern era will have its own struggles and contradictions. It will be an age of unprecedented advancement, but not a utopia. The problems of humanity will not vanish but they will evolve. People are not gonna live under John Lennon’s Imagine. People will still disagree. New problems will emerge. The pursuit of peace will be an ongoing effort, not a completed project.

Technological advancement will bring with it new challenges. Artificial intelligence, having long passed the threshold of utility, will pose deep philosophical and political questions: What constitutes personhood? Who is responsible for an autonomous system’s actions? How do we balance efficiency with meaning in a world where machines may outperform human labor in nearly every domain? Similarly, bioengineering and cognitive enhancement may create divisions not based on wealth or race, but on access to post-human capacities. Even in this Brave New World, there will be disagreements over how far humanity should alter itself and whether limits should exist at all. Much like medieval scholastics argued over the nature of the soul, or Roman senators debated the limits of imperial expansion, 23rd century societies will grapple with moral gray zones that feel alien and uncomfortable to modern minds.

Environmentalism will probably be just as much of a big issue by then like now. The scars of centuries of ecological degradation will not be fully healed. Cities once submerged or regions made uninhabitable by past negligence may serve as sobering reminders of the costs of early industrial modernity. Space colonization, too, will come with its own dilemmas: Who decides who gets to leave Earth? What laws govern life on other worlds? Is the expansion of humanity always a just cause? Even in a time of relative peace, discontent will persist. Not everyone will feel fulfilled by the systems in place. Some may reject the dominant cultural norms, forming intentional communities that separate themselves from the larger global framework. Others may find purpose in resisting the overwhelming standardization that can accompany globalism such as preserving languages, belief systems, and lifeways that don’t fit into the streamlined models of planetary unity. There may be ideological divides not between nations, but between mindsets: technocratic vs. ecological, expansionist vs. minimalist. These tensions won’t erupt into global wars, but they will fuel philosophical and political debates, culture clashes, and the creation of counter narratives. In this golden age, dissent will still exist but it will be expressed through speech, art, and democratic participation rather than violence. That, too, is part of the maturity of a peaceful era: not the absence of disagreement, but the ability to contain and channel it constructively.

Ultimately, the 23rd century’s greatness will lie not in its perfection, but in its resilience. Like the classical and medieval golden ages before it, its splendor will shine all the brighter because of the shadows it contains. The West's strength will be its ability to endure complexity, to grow without forgetting its flaws, and to create structures that allow for dissent, diversity, and dynamic change without descending into chaos. This age will not be a dream world but a realized world, one that accepts the full spectrum of human nature. It will not be the world Imagine longed for, stripped of everything that divides us, but something more grounded and honest: a civilization that, after thousands of years of war, greed, and fragmentation, has finally learned how to live with itself not perfectly, but peacefully. And perhaps that is the real golden age: not one where suffering is erased, but where peace is made possible, and sustainable, despite it. 

No golden age in history has been defined solely by politics or economics; it is always the culture that leaves the most enduring imprint. The High Middle Ages gifted the world with cathedral architecture, courtly love poetry, and the first universities. The Pax Romana left behind Virgil’s Aeneid, Roman sculpture, and a legal tradition still studied today. Likewise, the 23rd century, though technologically advanced,  will likely be remembered for a massive cultural flowering, possibly surpassing even the artistic explosion of the 20th century. Where the 20th century gave birth to film, television, video games, jazz, rock, hip-hop, science fiction, and postmodern literature, the 23rd century will see these forms evolve into something even more immersive, layered, and complex. Just as the cultures of the Pax Romana and High Middle Ages drew on the mythologies, philosophies, and moral dilemmas of earlier civilizations, the culture of the 23rd century will look both backward and forward. Recurring themes will likely mirror those of previous golden ages: the meaning of the self, the tension between fate and free will, the role of the divine (or its modern equivalents), and the responsibilities that come with power. Science fiction, once speculative, will evolve into historical allegory, reflecting on humanity’s long journey from pre modern tribes to modernist networks. Genres may blend seamlessly. There may be a return to epic storytelling, morality plays, and philosophical fiction, but expressed in new media so rich and sensory that today’s entertainment would feel almost primitive by comparison. Much like the Roman and medieval eras had clear cultural archetypes, the Stoic philosopher, the knight, the martyr, the trickster, the 23rd century may develop its own: the techno monk, the ecological steward, the AI whisperer, the digital exile. These archetypes will reflect the values and anxieties of the time, just as medieval saints and Roman heroes once did.

A key tension, and inspiration, for 23rd century culture will be the presence of artificial intelligence. While AI will be deeply embedded in every aspect of life, it will not replace human expression. Instead, it will act as a tool, heavily regulated (like for instance it's not allowed to generate full plots just a premise) as a muse, or even a mirror. Some artists will choose to deliberately avoid AI, creating purely “human” works as statements of personal or cultural identity. Others will collaborate with it. But even in this advanced era, human beings will remain at the center of their stories. AI may assist in crafting a universe, but it will be the human experience, with its longings, limitations, and contradictions, that gives that universe meaning. Art will continue to be a vessel for processing what it means to live, to love, to change, and to lose. AI may generate form, but humans will provide purpose.

By the 23rd century, the very distinction between mediums, movie, book, game, show, may become obsolete. A story might be experienced as a text based novel, a real time simulation, a visual performance in virtual space, or even a biological memory implant depending on how the audience chooses to engage with it. This era will likely blur the line between audience and creator, with collaborative narratives becoming the norm. There will be global mythologies co written by millions, constantly evolving, yet deeply coherent like modern day equivalents of Homeric oral tradition, but with planetary reach and virtual reality.

This explosion of creative output will likely dwarf anything seen in the 20th century, not just in volume, but in cultural significance. Every region of the world once silenced by imperialism or economic exclusion, will contribute its voice, weaving a global story that is no longer Western centric or elitist. Folktales from the Amazon basin, speculative fiction from the Sahara, Inuit techno sagas will all find place, platform, and audience. Just as scholars in later ages looked to Rome for architecture and to the medieval world for philosophy and music, future historians may turn to the 23rd century for its narrative innovations, its ability to integrate the ancient and the futuristic, and its refusal to let technology drown the human soul. In a time when everything is possible, the choice to center meaning, emotion, and identity will make this golden age not just brilliant, but profound. The culture of the 23rd century will not be remembered for its technical wizardry alone. It will be remembered for its stories and the way those stories helped a still imperfect species live together, dream bigger, and hold onto what makes life truly worth living. A golden age, yes but one with heart, humility, and humanity at its core.

But you might ask "If the 13th century was hope and the 16th century was shock, what about the 14th and 15th century"? The 14th century...is death. A catastrophe emerges that brings the modern world down and the 15th century...is hope. Hope that something new will emerge like a phoenix out of the ashes. What will kill modern history and replace it? I don't know. It's a long time from now, anything can happen. More people have an easier time predicting how the human species ends than how the modern era ends. Maybe we run out of resources, maybe modernity would get so big and expensive, that it collapses onto itself much like an empire. Maybe there will be some equivalent to the Renaissance but instead its medieval texts that gets "rediscovered" and gets used to make something new. Who knows.  

Interestingly, this future grief for modern history that might happen is reflected in E.M. Forster’s short story "The Machine Stops". The story opens with a world that has long forgotten the surface of Earth, best representing the world before modernity and modern history. Instead, all human needs are met by an omnipresent Machine, representing modernity. In symbolic terms, the fall out of the Machine age represents the post modern rupture, a severing from nature, physicality, and spiritual continuity. Just as the 16th century was marked by the Reformation and the breakdown of old paradigms, the world of the Machine reflects a radical break from human tradition and place, evoking the shock of disorientation. The people have faith in the system, much like the 17th century clung to absolutism, religious rigidity, and escapist ideologies. Humans in Forster’s story deny their dependency, insisting the Machine is stable and eternal. There’s a desperate clinging to a system, believing it will last forever, much like early modern Europe refused to accept the premodern world was dying. We follow two main characters Vashti and her son Kuno, who have different personalities. Vashti is happy with her life, which, like most inhabitants of the world, she spends her time making and discussing her second hand “ideas” representing the bargaining stage, compromising between old and new, pushing new ideas but not too much that might throw the system off. Her son, Kuno, however talks about how much he hates the world of the mechanical system, and how he saw other people living outside the world of the Machine. He represents the anger stage, having a dislike towards the post modern era and wanting to tear it down. But the Machine captures him, and threatens him with “Homelessness” or getting expelled and presumed dead, possibly similar to the pushback against the 18th century anger with monarchs or monarch-like figures returned right after the revolution. You see this 19th century bargaining not just in Vashti must with many people as the Machine world simulates culture and thought through artificial lectures and repetitive knowledge. Like the 19th century, it’s a time of compromise between old and new, people bargain with meaning, preserving "culture" in sterile fragments, a shadow of the vibrant, direct world they’ve lost. As cracks begin to form, a testing period emerges. Some people notice the breakdown but are unsure how to respond. Much like the 20th century's wars, ideologies, and existential experiments, people are trying to fix, reform, or ignore the Machine’s decline, hoping it can be salvaged, even as it becomes clear that it cannot. As the machine collapses, people feel burnout, much like the 21st century depression era. The system has lost meaning, autonomy has eroded, and human connection is alien and frightening. The world is disillusioned, empty, and deeply numb. People no longer live, they exist within systems that used to give purpose, but now simply persist out of habit. Finally, the text says "the Machine stops... and humanity, in silence, dies or begins again." In the final collapse, there is a recognition of truth. The Machine was never a god. It was never eternal. There’s sorrow, but also clarity. Vashti and Kuno, in their final moments, see each other face to face, not through a screen before dying. Like the 22nd century, this is not triumphal acceptance. It is sobering, subdued, and irreversible. The illusions are gone. What remains is the possibility of reconnection, of starting again for the surface dwellers to rebuild humanity this time without the fantasy of the Machine. They come to peace with the fact that something like a society run by the machine will never exist again and the surface dwellers will move forward with something new. 

But for now let's end on a high note. The 23rd century will not arrive in triumph, but in quietness. After centuries of upheaval, revolution, disillusionment, and resignation, the West will finally reach something rare: emotional peace. This will not be the return of innocence, but its reconstruction, built not from naivety, but from endurance. The world will have passed through the full cycle of grief over the death of the old order: from the shock of modernity’s birth, to the anger of revolution, the depression of the 21st century’s burnout, and the acceptance of the 22nd century’s calm surrender. What emerges in the 23rd is not utopia, nor apathy but peace with reality. 

This peace does not erase conflict nor does it not end injustice or disagreement. But it refuses to worship disruption for its own sake. Instead, the 23rd century will prioritize connection, sustainability, and shared presence. It will be the century where people, having spent so long trying to outthink, outrun, or outfight the future, finally stops and learns to coexist with each other, with systems, and with the limits of the world itself. The rebellious, anxious ego of the modern era will be replaced with a more collective spirit: not hive minded or passionless, but harmonized and peaceful. Just as the 13th century built cathedrals not in grief, but in gratitude for order restored, the 23rd century will build not because it hopes to conquer the future, but because it has made peace with being part of it. It will be the age when the modern world is no longer something to mourn, resist, or fix but something simply to live inside. After a thousand years of coping, the 23rd century will mark not an ending, but a beginning without panic. A kind of golden age, an age no longer afraid of what it has become. And in that quiet, gentle moment of stillness, we may finally feel at home.