Professor E. R. Udite

According to Star Wars: The Essential Atlas (2009), there are 100 quadrilion sentient beings in the galaxy. That's 10^17. That means, for every one Jedi in the galaxy, there are 10 trillion non-Jedi. If Jedi were randomly allocated, that would mean that Earth, with a population of 8 billion sentients, would have a 0.08% chance of even having a single Jedi present on our planet, let alone more than one.

Now, I personally think that the 100 quadrillion number is ridiculous, so let's scale that down.

The Delegation of 2,000 was the coalition of Senators who opposed Palpatine at the end of the Clone Wars. They were clearly in the minority. Let's say, for rhetoric's sake, that there were 10,000 Senators in total. That would make the Delegation of 2,000 a significant minority within the Senate, which I think fits with the narrative we're presented in Revenge of the Sith.

Okay, so we have 10,000 systems in the galaxy.

Note that I say systems—remember that each Senator is representing multiple planets and moons within that system. If each of these systems has 3-4 livable worlds, that makes 30,000-40,000 livable worlds in the Republic alone.

That's more planets and moons than there are adult Jedi. By a lot.

Star Wars writers are notoriously bad at math, especially for sci-fi writers, but even if you decided to be as generous as possible and claim that there are only about 5,000 inhabited worlds in the Republic, that's still only 2 Jedi per world. Even if you, like me, imagine planets in the Star Wars universe having the surface area of Ohio, that's still 2 Jedi in an area the size of a small country on Earth. (My #1 completely made-up headcanon for Star Wars is super tiny planets. I digress.) And even if those countries were relatively sparse in population, the Jedi still come out to be roughly one in a million.

One in a million. That means there'd only be 8,000 of them on Earth, if you are being as generous as possible and not even considering everything outside of the Republic. And I imagine that's a drastic overestimate.

The story of Star Wars is, by and large, the story of the Jedi. They are our protagonists, and thus, they seem very important. But in the grand scheme of things, they've probably got about as much impact on the galaxy as one (1) friendly neighborhood Spider-man would have on the entirety of the North American continent.

They will never get to every single planet and being, but the good they do do, the good they represent — it ripples. They make people WANT to be better, do better. They are aspirational heroes. The moral pinnacle of the universe's Good. (Think Superman for DC and Captain America[Steve Rogers] for Marvel).

Yes the Jedi are few.

Yes the Jedi will never help every single person.

But they inspire.

Like, imagine you're 25 years old, already dealing with plenty of issues from your shitshow of a teen-to-young-adult experience when your Master - your father, your friend, your teacher, your guardian of 12 years, who you didn't always have the best relationship with but goddamn it you tried so hard and overcame so much to get to where you are - is literally murdered in front of you by a fucking demon, the ancient bogeymen of all your childhood stories who are suddenly very real and killing the people you love. Everyone looks at you now with so much awe and fear because, in a haze of grief and panic, you managed to become the first to kill a demon in a millennium - which is somehow that's enough of a qualification to immediately graduate your apprenticeship with full honours even though you never actually got the chance to finish it. Five minutes of pure terror turned your life upside down, and now you have to shoulder the burdens of a knighthood that you know you're not ready for, and find some way to live with the crushing expectations that come with your newfound, accidental and very unwanted semi-legendary status. And, if that wasn't enough already, within 24 hours of all this going down, you're also legally responsibly for raising a hyperactive 9 year old ex-slave Child of Prophesy with crippling CPTSD and more power than god. You somehow, somehow have to raise this boy to be both a good Knight - which you haven't had a chance to figure out how to be yourself yet - and a functional person - which was never and easy thing for you to be but is getting harder by the day. You desperately want to do right by your new Padawan and honour your Master's dying wish but you're not ready for any of this, you didn't ask for it, and you're trying so hard to not repeat Qui-Gon's mistakes whilst also being painfully aware that you can never live up to what he could have been. Then there's homework and missions and nightmares and you worry that Anakin isn't making friends and you haven't slept more than 3 hours a night in weeks and the President of the Galaxy is pressuring you for some Private Alone Time with your child -

“I’ve got four children who are girls, so I’m familiar with looking after a girl. And although Obi is not a father, that’s what she brings out of him through the arc of our series.” 

Erasmus:

1. Erasmus actually evolving and becoming partially human which is what he wanted: to fully understand humans

2. Duncan being able to rest in peace after all the shit he’s gone through (thanks Leto II).

When he dies, Erasmus really ought to have thought of Anna Corrino, not Serena Butler…😫

I LOVE the idea of Duncan and Erasmus fighting together to defeat Omnius permanently and Duncan sacrificing himself (not becoming some supreme Kwisatz Haderach). And Erasmus becoming free, coexisting with humans. Duncan, poor, long-suffering Duncan needed to finally rest!