Imagine, if you will, an alien species so advanced it could travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. Picture a species that has roamed the galaxy for eons, toting up the history of civilizations that rose and fell for reasons inscrutable and obvious. They come across Earth in a thousand years, and find it barren and ruined. What happened?
"Well, DorgX9323, when we checked in on them long ago, they seemed to be divided by a great argument that had no resolution, and apparently they went to dreadful means to settle the dispute."
"What was it, BrirP3931?"
"Tastes great v. less filling."
"Again? How many complex civilizations have riven themselves asunder over that question? Well, let us move along and see if System $#5w has survived their theological quandaries. Where did they stand on our last visit?"
"It was perilous. Half the planet could not believe it wasn't butter, and half the planet was willing to do anything to force the other half to accept that it was butter. We have seen worlds tear themselves asunder over popularly priced spreads, but usually they step back from the brink."
They may leave Earth without truly understanding that it was neither beer nor butter that laid waste to our lovely blue world. It was something no one saw coming. No one knew there was a hidden source of energy so great that it would turn the world into a cinder when it was released, an element we didn't discover until it was too late.
Frustratium.