“If you could have a gigantic billboard anywhere with anything on it—metaphorically speaking, getting a message out to millions or billions—what would it say and why?” Tim Ferriss’ billboard question is well constructed and elicits insightful answers, but I think there’s a step further: “Aliens have landed--as humanity’s chosen liaison, you're tasked with first contact. What do you say? What’s the single most meaningful thing they could say to us?”

The alien question raises the stakes. It’s not just a proclamation of your personal philosophy, but an event with profound consequences. It's a contemplation about our place in the cosmos, our meaning and purpose in this universe. Such an exchange between two civilizations would carry implications for all of humanity, potentially Earth's entire biosphere. The alien question also encourages a broader perspective—what wisdom would an outsider deem essential for us to hear? It's an invitation for commentary on "everything," on all that we know and experience.

Imagine… you are chosen as humanity’s liaison. They want someone ‘ordinary’ to represent humanity, and yet also someone unique and extraordinary, because, after all, that’s what you are. The government takes you to the nearest airport, where a large private plane awaits. You are left to yourself as the plane transports you down, down the globe to the South Pole, stopping to refuel a few times. After many hours, the pilot's voice over the intercom informs you of the descent to Jack F. Paulus Skiway. Mere minutes later, you’re deplaning, riding in a truck to a huge alien structure—how can that fly, you wonder. Silvery beings, somehow distinct from the surrounding snow, await outside. Your passenger door is opened; you get out, and begin walking toward these strange sentinels. You stop some ten feet from them, and wait. What do they say?

The location of Antarctica also adds some depth to the thought experiment. The South Pole would be an ideal meeting point because it’s uninhabited and generally understood to be unowned. The Antarctic Treaty of 1959 ensures the continent remains a place of peaceful, scientific research. A rendezvous here would send the right signal to the world: instead of aliens landing on the White House lawn, in Tiananmen Square or outside the Kremlin walls, the South Pole serves as a neutral meeting point. And Antarctica is a faraway, foreign place to almost all humans.

(Peaceful) leviathans of the deep abound

The implications of this exchange would be profound. Imagine how it would impact global politics and society as a whole. Regan pondered this in his speech to the United Nations in 1987: “I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world.” What would we learn about ourselves through such an exchange? What would we say to the visitors? If we sought to convey our values, intentions, and questions, what would we say? Would our fundamental understanding of our place and purpose in the universe change? Would our concept of meaning itself change?

I believe aliens would communicate something along the lines of “you are not alone. You understand very little of this complex, incredible thing called reality. Be humble. Live with love. And we will show you the way.” Humanity is destined to make its own mark, regardless of any extraterrestrial species. But it sure would be comforting to know there’s someone else benevolent out there, willing to help, showing us the most important thing is to not feel alone.