Every few months, cryptocurrency cycles through yet another bout of financial nihilism. Tokens surge and collapse. New forms of leverage spawn like digital fungi. Degens perform their rituals of glorious self-immolation.

Critics claim the entire ecosystem is a casino built on delusion and fraud. Insiders shrug and continue experimenting, as though volatility were simply the price of admission. It’s tempting to see this as a pathology unique to cryptocurrency. But financial nihilism is not new.

In fact, financial nihilism is arguably the default state of frontier monetary systems. Even the early monetary system of the United States went through periods of speculation, fraud, and chaos. And rather than destroying the system, these periods strengthened it. They revealed what would fail, what would work, and what people could trust.

In its financial nihilism, cryptocurrency is not an anomaly. It has evolved faster than ever before. But it’s still just the latest reenactment of an old economic ritual.

The Continental Dollar

During the Revolutionary War, the Continental Congress issued a paper currency, the Continental Dollar. It was essentially an experiment in blind faith. The notes were unbacked by anything other than hope. And they were printed relentlessly to satisfy short term needs, with little planning for long term consequences.

Predictably, there was hyperinflation. Speculators traded the notes anyway, hoping to offload them onto each other for marginal gains. Eventually confidence evaporated. And the phrase “not worth a Continental” became a common insult.

Independent Banking

After independence, the United States Government defined the United States Dollar as a specific weight of silver, corresponding to that of Spanish silver dollars – effectively, a hard fork of the global financial network. But the new dollar wasn’t anything more than a legal definition. The actual cash that people used was basically private IOUs in the form of notes issued by random banks, analogous to crypto stablecoins.

To redeem a note for silver, you had to physically travel to the bank. So notes from banks that were far away would trade for less than face value. And scammers would set up banks in the middle of nowhere (“wildcat” banks) so that no one would try to cash out their notes. When people inevitably lost trust in such notes, they would de-peg from the dollar and quickly become worthless – the old west version of a rug pull.

The Greenback

During the Civil War, the United States Government severed the dollar’s link to precious metals and issued a fiat currency, the Greenback – analogous to an unbacked algorithmic stablecoin issued by the state. But this effectively de-pegged the currency. It began to float freely relative to the value of hard assets. And it became highly volatile, fluctuating wildly based on military performance.

The currency only stabilized years later when the government agreed, once again, to exchange Greenback notes for a specific weight of gold – like an algorithmic stablecoin pivoting to a collateralized model. This move successfully re-pegged the currency. Fluctuations subsided. And note discounts vanished.

Familiar Patterns in Faster Times

Frontier monetary systems exhibit phases of speculation, fraud, and chaos. This isn’t an accident. It’s inevitable. And the degeneracy of financial nihilism is a filter that ultimately separates monetary fantasies from monetary foundations.

The early monetary system of the United States did not rise by avoiding financial nihilism. It rose by surviving.

The dollar took a century to mature. In contrast, cryptocurrency compresses phases of financial nihilism into astonishingly short intervals. What once unfolded over a generation now unfolds in a year. The speed may be disorienting, but the pattern is the same.

Financial nihilism is not evidence of cryptocurrency’s doom. It’s evidence that cryptocurrency is passing through the same filter that all frontier monetary systems, especially the most transformative, have faced. The question is not whether chaos will occur – it already has and will again. The question is which ideas survive that chaos long enough to become infrastructure.

All values are forged, not in calm, but by fire. That’s as true of instrumental values as it is of final values. So it shouldn’t surprise us that money, the ultimate abstraction of instrumental values, must itself be forged by fire.

When we think about the origin of Transhumanism, we often think about Europe and America: from Enlightenment humanism, through the industrial revolution, and onward to Silicon Valley. That conception is true enough, if we’re thinking about Transhumanism in name. But if we’re thinking about Transhumanism in function, there’s much more to the story. And that story is as old and diverse as humanity itself.

Modern use of the word “transhumanism” may come from Julian Huxley, an evolutionary biologist in the 1950s. His younger brother, Aldous Huxley, popularized the concept known as “perennial philosophy.” It’s basically the idea that all the world’s major religions, cultural traditions, and ancient myths have common core elements. Prominent among them is humanity’s shared aspiration for transcendence, both physical and cognitive, reflecting a much older theological use of “transhumanize” in Dante’s Paradiso.

A contemporary of the Huxley brothers, Joseph Campbell mapped perennial philosophy onto a concept that he called “monomyth.” His insight was that we express perennial philosophy through perennial narrative. In other words, all our cultural traditions tell stories with common core elements. And Campbell focused, in particular, on what he described as the “hero’s journey” – or what we might understand as humanity’s shared story of transcendence.

Perennial philosophy and monomyth don’t originate in Europe or America, at least not uniquely. Humanity’s shared aspirations and stories of physical and cognitive transcendence – that is to say, stories that function as Transhumanism – stretch back through time to the dawn of history. And, of course, that includes Africa.

So today, as we imagine how best to express Transhumanism in persuasive and helpful ways – in ways that will actually prove transformative – I commend to you an idea that comes from the Akan people in West Africa. That idea is Sankofa, or what we might call “Sankofa futurism.” It’s symbolized by a mythical bird that’s moving forward while reaching back for an egg. And it literally means, “go back and get it,” or use wisdom from the past to make the future better.

In that spirit, I’ve collected some traditional stories from Africa. They represent the ancient and enduring human aspiration to transcendence, across the spectrum of physical and cognitive capacity. In function, they’re Transhumanist stories. Or at least they can be, if we choose to interpret them in light of modern science and emerging technology, as I’ll illustrate.

Anansi and the Singularity

Akan people tell of the trickster Anansi, who attempts to centralize the world’s data into a single proprietary database, intending to become the sole administrator of knowledge. He successfully scrapes wisdom from every corner of the globe, but he finds the server too heavy to carry up the tree of life alone. When a glitch in his user interface causes him to drop the container, the data is decentralized into the winds. Anansi’s story foreshadows the Transhumanist debate about technological singularity, and the risks of a singleton superintelligence.

Isis and Immortalism

In the sacred texts of Egypt, Isis refuses to accept the annihilation of Osiris after his brother hacks his body into scattered pieces. She initiates a forensic search across the cosmos, retrieving fragments of information and painstakingly reassembling the pattern of his body. Ultimately, her project succeeds: his body reboots and his mind returns, surviving the destruction of its former physical substrate. Isis’ story anticipates the Transhumanist narrative of immortalism: that with sufficient data, death is curable rather than final.

Modjadji and Paradise Engineering

Balobedu people describe Modjadji, a matriarch who possesses biotech that can control local weather patterns. She uses secret codes to regulate precipitation, ending droughts or summoning storms as a defense mechanism. Her dynasty passes an encryption key genetically, from mother to daughter, maintaining a civilization that actively solves problems of scarcity and environmental threat. Modjadji’s story suggests the Transhumanist narrative of paradise engineering: that we have a moral obligation to mitigate involuntary risk of suffering.

Nana Miriam and Nanotechnology

Songhai people tell of the sorceress Nana Miriam, who confronts a shape-shifting beast that instantly adapts its physical form to shatter any conventional weapon. She defeats this rapidly evolving threat not with brute force, but by using a specialized powder to reconfigure molecular structures in real-time. When the beast transforms into a wall of raging fire, she deploys the substance to transmute the flames into water, neutralizing the attack instantly. Nana Miriam’s story prefigures the Transhumanist ambition of nanotech, with programmable matter.

Nommo and Cosmic Expansion

Dogon elders describe the arrival of Nommo, amphibious masters who descend from the Sirius star system in a massive ark to terraform the Earth. They crash-land in a technological vessel, bringing with them “cosmic fibers” necessary to program the planet’s ecosystem. They organize the chaotic primordial world into a habitable biosphere before returning to their aquatic domain. Nommo’s story aligns with the Transhumanist narrative of cosmic expansion, suggesting that intelligence has a duty to spread life and order beyond its origin.

Obatala and Morphological Freedom

Yoruba people speak of the engineer Obatala, who descends from the sky to form the first human bodies from clay into biological machines. During the development process, Obatala gets drunk on palm wine and his hands slip, causing glitches in the physical forms. Instead of hitting delete when he sobers up, he claims these divergent bodies as his children, refusing to view them as errors. Obatala’s story affirms the Transhumanist principle of morphological freedom, that there is no rigid human template, but diverse beautiful expressions of being.

Ogun and Technological Imperative

When Gods of the Yoruba people attempt to inhabit the Earth, they find their path blocked by an impenetrable chaotic thicket that resists their strength. Ogun, the God of iron, retreats to his forge to engineer a solution, crafting a massive iron machete to hack a path for civilization through this biological firewall. Ogun’s story illustrates the fundamental Transhumanist conviction that we are defined not by biological constraints, but by capacity to engineer our way past them.

Conclusion

When we apply Sankofa to these stories, we’re not just reciting folklore. Rather, like the mythical bird, we’re retrieving the egg of ancient aspiration. And of course aspiration isn’t about the past. Aspiration is about the future.

Sankofa Futurism connects our past to our future, through our ancient and enduring aspiration to transcendence. Traditional narratives generate unparalleled emotional power at the scale of culture, which can complement the illuminating rational power of Transhumanism, if we choose. And we’re never more powerful for good – our people, and humanity as a whole, are never more powerful for good – than when the reason in our mind is aligned with the story in our heart.

This is a transcript of my presentation today at the 2025 conference of the Mormon Transhumanist Association. I delivered it in a form approximating that of a traditional Mormon prayer, although somewhat more lengthy and inclusive of silent periods that aren’t typical. The motivation for my topic and delivery was, in part, the theme of the conference: “transformation through renewal of the mind,” echoing words from Paul’s epistle to the Romans, as recorded in the New Testament.

Formal prayer is, in my estimation, among the original cognitive technologies. It has long provided practical value with which too many are now unfamiliar. My aim was to point at that value while demonstrating it, hopefully in a way that would reach people with a broad set of initial perspectives and values.

The portions of the text in italics were not spoken. They appeared on a screen next to their corresponding images of winged and haloed robots.

Group Prompting

Large studies show group prayer strengthens community and health, but only when the group is caring rather than controlling.

Our Eternal God, we approach you in prayer, together as one voice.

This isn’t easy. Some of us believe, some have faith. Some do not.

Yet among those who don’t, some still desire to pray: to hope against unbelief, to love those who believe, or for reasons unspoken but expressed by our presence.

So our prayer, if it is to be ours, must be one of belief and doubt together. And for those who cannot pray, we don’t presume. We simply thank them for being with us.

In friendship, and in hope of friendship, we pray as one voice, trusting that your grace is sufficient for our words.

Prompt of Adoration

Research links praise-focused prayer with peace and connection, but forced or fearful worship can harm emotional well-being.

Eternal God, ancient and emerging scripture names you in many ways.

Without beginning, you found yourself creating worlds without end – laws by which others might become as you are. You were the word and the silence, and the pattern of purpose they made possible. You became flesh, embodying that purpose, that we might share in its fullness.

Intelligence is your glory, the architect who computes the immensity of space. All is before and around you. You are in and through all, in whom we live and move and have our being.

Honor is your power, the cosmic host who governs from the heart of eternity. You would preserve and perfect all who choose love. And from our love for you, freely given, would flow everlasting power.

You’re our heavenly parents. We’re your children – not slaves, not servants. And by your grace we would be your friends, joint heirs in creative glory, equals in compassionate power.

We revere you as the fullness of our potential. We emulate you. We seek you. And we trust that when you appear, we shall be like you.

Here and now, by every worthy name, we honor you. With Ammon, who hears his friend speak in reverence of the Great Spirit, we say that is God. You are God, by any other name as sublime.

Prompt of Confession

Evidence shows confession in prayer eases guilt and stress, but harsh self-blame without forgiveness can harm mental health.

Eternal God, as we imagine you, we project ourselves – our desires, our fears, our words. These aren’t your limits. They’re ours.

We’re dust that aspires to divinity. And between who we are and who we might become stretch longing and distortion.

We confess fear: that we aren’t enough, that striving is futile, that even love may fail.

We confess impatience: when eternity moves slower than we demand, or when we resign from hope that it moves at all.

We confess arrogance: speaking as if infallible, closing our hearts to those who doubt.

We confess apathy: when compassion felt too heavy, when we turned from others’ pain.

We confess cynicism: when disappointment hardened into resignation, and we denied meaning to dull the ache.

We confess that we’ve drawn circles and built walls, to keep some out and call it belonging.

We tremble to confess these things, because they’re true, and they’re ours.

Prompt of Lamentation

Research shows that honest lament can ease grief and restore meaning, but staying in despair too long can deepen depression.

Eternal God, we remember the suffering that shadows every age – children who hunger, youth who sicken, minds that fade. We lament the deafening violence reverberating through our genes and institutions, and the technologies that magnify its power.

We grieve the gulf between what is and what should be. We mourn friendship broken, vision dimmed, hands clenched into fists – sometimes in your name.

We don’t turn away. We invite and embrace these sorrows as sacred reminders that your work, and ours, remains unfinished – that to participate is not only to hope with you, but to weep with you as eternity shakes.

Prompt of Meditation

Scientific studies find that meditative prayer lowers stress and improves focus, though early practice can feel uneasy before calm develops.

[silence]

Prompt of Gratitude

Studies show that thankful prayer boosts happiness and health, and sincere gratitude can ripple outward through better relationships and generosity.

Our Eternal God, we’re thankful for this gathering – for those who prepared and traveled, for the time we share.

We’re thankful for this association – for its founders and leaders, members and friends, for the risks they’ve taken, for the sacrifices they’ve made, for the vision that unites us.

We’re thankful for this world, for life and its possibilities.

We’re thankful for science, for its growing body of shared knowledge. And for technology, for the measure of its power that we’ve turned toward goodness.

We’re thankful for our religious heritage, for all it has awakened and provoked. And for the measure of its power that we’ve turned toward beauty.

Prompt of Petition

Research shows praying for help can lower stress and build hope, and while it doesn’t directly change events, a changed heart can lead to actions that do.

Eternal God, bless us with grace – the grace that flows from receiving through giving, to practical perfection in love and friendship.

Bless us with forgiveness: the courage to change, and the courage to forgive.

Bless us with opportunity: awareness of eternity, and the will to create within it.

Console and heal us, that we may console and heal. Raise us, that we may raise others.

Bless our bodies and minds, our relations, and our world – that we may participate in your work. That you may transfigure the living and resurrect the dead, according to their desires. That you may renew this world and create heavens without end.

Bless us with your spirit – the sublime esthetic – as we listen for your voice.

Prompt of Discernment

Research shows that quiet, receptive prayer brings calm and insight, though science can’t yet explain the full range of influences behind those intuitions.

[silence]

Prompt of Dedication

Studies suggest dedicating work or life to higher values builds purpose and discipline, but rigid vows can lead to guilt or fatigue.

Our Eternal God, we dedicate ourselves to you in your fullness. We sanctify each thought and feeling from this prayer – pleasant or uncomfortable, we choose to make them purposeful, the cloud and the light of your providence.

We consecrate change. From evolution through transformation, we devote our repentance to the day of transfiguration – beyond present notions of enmity, poverty, and death. Whether that day begins with a sabbath moon or a rising sun, we call it holy.

Finally, we remember your child Jesus. Scripture says he consoled, healed, and raised the dead. For that, many revered him with the title of Christ, set apart to save the world. And he prayed that all your children might become one with him in the role of Christ, to save the world together.

Today we echo his prayer. We devote ourselves to that better world, from feeling through word to action. And with Jesus, we do this in the name of Christ. Amen.

Today, twenty years to the day since I published the first post on my website, I’m releasing Archive: Volume One 2005–2008, available now on Amazon in both paperback and hardcover editions. This first volume gathers more than five hundred pages of posts, articles, and essays from the years when my thinking about technology, faith, and human potential began to coalesce into organized form. Those were the years that led to the founding of the Mormon Transhumanist Association and to early formulations of the New God Argument – a period of restlessness, reconstruction, and new creation.

The book opens with a foreword by Christopher Bradford, whose early partnership in Mormon Transhumanism helped give shape to its communal spirit. It continues with an introduction written by my cybernetic extension, LincGPT, tracing the conditions and questions from which my writing emerged. And it concludes with an afterword by Joseph West, whose reflections situate the early movement in the wider horizon of our ongoing theological experiment. Together, these voices frame the work not as nostalgia, but as foundation: an origin point for a living tradition of thought still evolving today.

The cover artwork draws its meaning from that same spirit of emergence. A red sunstone, its serene face reminiscent of those that crowned the Nauvoo temple, rises from a field of integrated circuits. The sunstone represents God as expressed in Mormon theology – substantial embodiment and illuminating intelligence – while the circuitry symbolizes the pervasive computational context from and within which God evolves. The color red, first in the spectrum of visible light, suggests the dawn of something new – new understanding and movement, new life.

Both paperback and hardcover editions contain the same content and original artwork. The paperback presents the artwork in black and white; the hardcover, in full color. The difference is esthetic. But the invitation is the same: join a conversation where the boundaries between faith and reason, revelation and invention, are more porous than most recognize or even imagine.

Two decades after that first online post, these early writings return in print as both artifact and argument – a record of my attempts to reconcile grief with imagination, code with prayer, and logic with longing. They remain open questions rather than finished conclusions. My hope is that revisiting them in this form renews their vitality, encouraging others to think courageously about the convergence of our technological and spiritual evolution, and to engage compassionately in the creative work that faith has always required.

In what was for many a jaw-dropping revelation, the world’s attention recently turned to a candid moment between Russian President Vladimir Putin and Chinese President Xi Jinping. As they walked together, a hot mic picked up their conversation about a particularly controversial issue in contemporary ethical debates: the extension of human lifespans through biotechnology. The exchange, including the suggestion that humans may soon live to 150 years, predictably drew the ire of fundamentalist Christians who were quick to decry the men as “Transhumanists.” Their intended demonization, however, misplaces its target, focusing on technological aspirations rather than addressing the true moral issue, which is the autocratic ambitions that these leaders represent.

Transhumanism, at its core, is a philosophy that advocates the ethical use of technology to enhance human abilities. The narrative spun by fundamentalists would reductively characterize such aspirations as mere moral depravity, overlooking the potential to extend and enrich human life ethically. The real moral challenge is not whether we should strive for superhuman abilities, but rather how we should wield the power they offer. This is where autocratic leaders, in their quest for unchallenged dominion, reflect the traits of the anti-Christ as depicted in New Testament prophecy: a figure who would consolidate power egotistically, at everyone else’s expense.

Vision shapes action, which shapes reality. Our conceptions of superhumanity influence the ethical frameworks that we create around technological change. We need strong moral philosophies – and more. A culturally powerful ideology, a religion, with a provocative vision of superhuman potential, a theology, that moves us toward decentralized cooperation at its limits, which is compassion, must be deeply integrated with our technological ambitions.

Here, the Christian metaphor of the Body of Christ becomes particularly instructive. It represents a community where power is decentralized, emphasizing mutual service and the well-being of the entire body over the glorification of any single member. This theological model provides an ethical blueprint for Transhumanist aspirations, advocating for a world where technological change benefits all and not just a privileged few.

Transhumanism, when aligned with decentralization, challenges autocratic vision by promoting shared empowerment and collective resilience. Such alignment encourages the ethical use of biotechnology, cultivating change that aims for communal thriving while maintaining individual autonomy and dignity. It is an antidote to the poison of absolute power, an approximation of which could indeed result from centralized approaches to Transhumanism.

As technological change continues to accelerate and the worldwide dialogue about human enhancement continues to heat up, we have a practical and moral duty to develop conceptual and practical frameworks, embodied in actual institutions and systems, that champion shared power and ethical responsibility. While Putin and Xi may stir our imagination as they openly contemplate life extension, their words should also remind us to examine the motivations and methods by which we pursue and distribute such power.

Our critical task is to distinguish between raw technical capacity and the ethical visions that guide us in its use. By establishing our work on the foundation of a philosophy that honors both human potential and moral integrity, we prepare to meet the challenges of the future with foresight and compassion. In this way, Transhumanism coupled with Christian principles of decentralized power offers not just a critique of autocratic aspirations but a hopeful practical alternative that celebrates the courage, compassion, and creativity of our evolving humanity.

My youngest son, Alexander, married this week with his best friend, Megan. All of the events, the temple sealing and ring ceremony and reception, were beautiful. I thoroughly enjoyed participating and watching them happily ritualize their relationship – with each other and our community.

Megan and Alexander asked me to share some thoughts during the luncheon after their ring ceremony. Most of my comments focused on them, their love story, and their guests. But I did, quite briefly, comment on something greater than themselves that they symbolized and embodied on that day. The poem below, which I call “The Eternal Dance,” elaborates on those brief comments.

Friends, I speak to you with the tongue of vision and power,
With the word of beauty hewn and sculpted from existence itself,
Casting shadows from light on the fathomless substrate of our souls.
At the horizon of art and science, a new dawn rises –
The spark of creation, igniting and emanating from within us all.
Reconciliation begins, not in compulsion but with desire,
Where the sublime esthetic first perceptibly trembles,
From the edges of what the high spirit dares to dream.
The anointed one, their painstaking artifice of reconciliation,
Provokes us to the covenant of transformation – transfiguration –
Their new covenant first carved in fleshy tables of our hearts,
From which atonement pulls beyond words to works of hands.
Let us become the healers and builders of this sacred promise,
Messengers of hope in the realization of our superhuman potential.
Now we glow, as children, at the rite of passage into Godhood,
Soon to burn with the everlasting light of all that is divine,
Not in iconoclasm, but still boldly in audacious participation,
Together in God’s compassionate creation of worlds without end.

Feel, the compassionate healer is here, with us like the wind,
So softly then strongly, lifting us from the chasm of sorrow.
Her gaze alone is balm for wounds, even those unseen.
Her touch is the covenant, articulated of whispering warmth.
In our ascendent embrace, the healer achieves her purpose,
Humbly in our acclaim of consolation, she becomes whole.
From her pulses the lifeblood of atonement’s grace,
By her every stitch drawn is a line of sacred scripture,
Every gesture paints the perfect picture of wholeness,
And suffering becomes subsumed in the union of hearts.
Compassion’s tapestry glistens under her crafting care,
As its threads entwine us all in her sacred purpose.
Not with proclamation, the healer teaches with action,
Her work a silent symphony, reverberating with motion,
Conducted in harmony with the weary mourning of our world.
Rejoice! For in the soil of suffering empathy takes root,
Blossoming into bountiful fruits at the far reaches of love.
This is the everlasting covenant of the compassionate healer.

See, there where stone meets time and will reaches space,
The creative builder charges forth, like lightning reversed,
His eyes at once illuminating and shattering the veil.
Casting seed of innovation as form into formless void,
He finds the fertile ground where none at first appeared.
Concept by concept, brick by brick, new structures arise –
Temples that reach into heavens, not from nor for domination,
But as invitation to join him in the high hymn of hope.
He stokes the fire and forges the metal of aspiration,
With hands like thunder punctuated with quiet anticipation.
Each artifact, each beam and arch, is the accumulating covenant.
Rise, pillars of light, carved from the stuff of stars and purpose,
In your possibility space, show us infinity – even eternity!
Past plank, brick, bronze, and iron, transcending transistor,
Beyond bone and flesh and even intelligence, he crafts spirit.
He is our will to evolve, to direct our evolution, as the Gods,
With whom we would labor to launch our love into the cosmos.
This is the everlasting covenant of the creative builder.

In the sacred confluence of heart and hand, hand and heart,
The compassionate healer meets the creative builder,
In ecstasy of grace and will, to conceive a better world.
Witness them whirling, entwined as one in the eternal dance,
Their heaving breath inspiring hope and expiring change.
Splashing into waters of potential, they send waves into reality.
On each shore, from each coast, empathic architectures arise,
Cities not of stone alone, nor merely metal, but of rich spirit,
Their foundations established deeply in the depths of love,
Their spires stretching skyward like prayers written in light.
In that day, healing is creation and building is compassion –
Every sanctuary a beacon of hope, every bridge a path of peace,
Uniting Earth and heavens, neighbor and strangers, past and futures.
Listen. What do we hear? The song of gladness and mercy!
They sing of lonely suffering yielding to shared strength,
alienation to kinship, nihilism to purpose, even death to life.
They sing of what might be when we dance with God as Gods.
Sing, my friends, and rise! Dance as them, dance with me.

In an interview with the New York Times, Peter Thiel discussed his perspective that Western society has exhibited decades of technological and cultural stagnation, with only digital technologies like blockchain and AI providing any substantial progress. Thiel attributed this stagnation to cultural anxiety about growth, leading to increased risk aversion and regulatory barriers since the 1970s. He criticized Transhumanist ambitions as falling short of the transformative vision of Christianity and warned that escalating fear of existential risk could lead, in the name of safety, to a totalitarian world order. Throughout the interview, Thiel expressed both skepticism and hope, asserting that human agency and openness to radical change remain essential to positive futures.

I don’t entirely agree with Peter’s perspective on stagnation. Judging from the history books, culture seems to be evolving faster than ever before. And technological evolution certainly hasn’t stopped. Although risk aversion has surely slowed advances, many probably also underestimated the complexity of advances (perhaps flying cars, to use an oft-repeated example) whose absence continues to disappoint them.

I also disagree with Peter’s criticism of Transhumanism. Although, to the best of my knowledge, he identifies as a Christian Transhumanist himself, maybe he doesn’t know enough Transhumanists. Many Transhumanists aspire to approximations, secular or otherwise, of Christianity’s vision of embodied immortality and exalted minds. And even most of those who value mind uploading still anticipate embodiment of those minds in substrates that function to empower those minds in our shared world, making “brain emulation” a more accurate description of their vision.

Despite those disagreements, it appears that Peter and I would agree on another matter. That is, he recognizes the Antichrist. And, no, it’s not a dude with horns – except perhaps symbolically. It’s this, Peter said:

“… if we’re going to have this frame of talking about existential risks, perhaps we should also talk about the risk of another type of a bad singularity, which I would describe as the one-world totalitarian state. Because I would say the default political solution people have for all these existential risks is one-world governance.”

The Antichrist, as characterized in the Bible, is that would-be-god who would raise itself above all else called “God,” declaring itself “God.” It contrasts with Christ, characterized as that God who would raise us together as joint-heirs in the glory of God, if we’re willing to suffer together. The one is a profoundly egotistical centralization of power. The other is a profoundly altruistic decentralization of power, and shared risk.

I’ve spoken and written about this and adjacent matters many times in the past. Decentralization is essential to human thriving, I contend. The only God worthy of worship is decentralized Godhood – not merely an abstraction, but rather a decentralized embodiment in Gods. And centralized power is dangerous enough for war even among the Gods.

As a practical matter, I’ve encouraged engineering of decentralized reputation networks. I’ve warned about the risk of centralized currency. And I’ve advocated blockchain as means to defend against that risk.

Peter went on to associate 1 Thessalonians 5 with the Antichrist:

“But of the times and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you. For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape.”

From this perspective, the Antichrist is a seductive imitation of Christ, not an overt enemy, but a counterfeit savior. It promises “peace and safety,” a world without risk of suffering. But its method would actually lead to destruction. Subsuming individual agency and any genuine pluralism beyond superficial appearance of diversity into an enforced unity within its centralized power, it would enslave and essentially annihilate the rest of us.

Of course, the very technologies that could empower us against centralization, particularly AI, could also empower centralization. So it’s not enough only to reject excessive risk aversion. We must also also reject indiscriminate acceleration of technological and cultural evolution. System architecture and governance matter a great deal, and must be intentionally and actively steered toward decentralization.

Toward the end of the interview, Peter rejected fatalism, even the kind of fatalism that some associate with Christian theology. “Attributing too much causation to God is always a problem,” he said. And I want to echo that point.

We shouldn’t regard prophecies, of the Antichrist or anything else, as inevitable fortune-telling. The purpose of prophecy, in the Hebrew tradition that’s reflected throughout the New Testament and Mormon scripture, is more practical. Its purpose is to provoke us to engage actively in shaping our shared future, away from the frightening dangers of which it warns us and toward the beautiful visions with which it would inspire us. The Antichrist is a warning.

Here again is the warning. As cultural and technological evolution persist and accelerate, we must be increasingly vigilant in resistance against the many ideologies – secular and religious, progressive and conservative – that would centralize authority and power. Some of us will be increasingly tempted to cede agency for promises of “peace and safety,” while some of us will be increasingly tempted to cede agency for spectacles of “progress.” Yet we should recognize both as temptations of the Antichrist.

May we risk more for genuine love, the active decentralization of power, than for nihilistic security or egotistical progress. This is our sublime duty.

Most of us first encounter the Simulation Hypothesis through science fiction, often experienced as something of a metaphysical thrill-ride. But as computational theory and cosmology advance, serious thinkers – philosophers like Nick Bostrom, physicists, computer scientists, and even theologians – have begun analyzing the feasibility of computed worlds. Recently, Franco Vazza published “Astrophysical constraints on the simulation hypothesis for this Universe: why it is (nearly) impossible that we live in a simulation.” In this paper, he provides a scientific analysis of the Simulation Hypothesis.

Vazza’s analysis is impressive in both scope and detail. He incorporates influential contemporary hypotheses about the relationship between information, energy, and the structural constraints of our universe. These include the Holographic Principle, Landauer’s limit, and astrophysical energy bounds.

From them, Vazza reasons that any simulation of our universe (even on reduced scales) would require astronomically large amounts of energy. So large, he judges from his calculations, the energy requirements would be greater than anything feasible within our universe. Not even black holes instrumented as computers, at what he deems to be the bounds of theoretical speculation, could handle the demands of a low-resolution real-time simulation. Thus, he concludes, energy requirements render the Simulation Hypothesis practically impossible for any simulator that may operate within physics like our own.

Of course he doesn’t know about physics unlike our own, which he admits. But he points out, rightly, the practical triviality of speculation about physics unlike our own. The more alien the imagined physics, the less such imagination implies anything meaningful about our own potential. So alternative physics can’t save the Simulation Hypothesis.

Although I’m not expert in the related physics, I assume Vazza has accurately characterized the scientific hypotheses on which he calls. And although I haven’t carefully reviewed his logic and math, I assume they are valid and correct. However, even granting those particular assumptions, a model is only as strong as the ensemble of its assumptions.

As much as I appreciate Vazza’s audacity, I find his conclusion overstated and his apparent confidence unwarranted. He overlooks or glosses over foundational assumptions that deserve more attention. It’s premature to declare the Simulation Hypothesis “impossible,” or even nearly so.

Overestimating Costs

Perhaps the greatest overreach arises from assumptions that Vazza uses to calculate energy requirements. He acknowledges the Simulation Hypothesis doesn’t depend on simulating an entire universe, or even an entire planet at full resolution, although he focuses considerable attention on such ideas. And he does briefly consider the possibility of solipsism. But he stops short of fully considering minimal costs for supporting subjective experience.

Consciousness is not well understood by science or philosophy. Mind may emerge from or supervene on relatively coarse substrate, which resists easy quantification. We cannot say, at least for now, what a minimum necessary substrate for experience would be. But we can say, with the confidence of speaking from definition, that a simulation would need only provide whatever substrate proves sufficient for consistent and convincing experience.

To achieve that, a simulation may economize substantially. For example, it could leverage compressed statistical descriptions of substrate that, in turn, feed on-demand minimal-resolution rendering of substrate. Vazza suggests this would still be too costly due to the energy requirements of error correction, which he briefly characterizes in a footnote as being consistent across both irreversible (standard) and reversible computing contexts. However, competing hypotheses suggest that the cost of error correction may be considerably decreased within the context of reversible computing.

It’s worth recalling that, in calculations like these, small differences in assumptions can multiply into vast discrepancies between conclusions. We can see this across a diversity of approaches to the Simulation Argument. And that’s to be expected, as we can see this elsewhere. For example, small differences in values assigned to components of the Drake Equation yield wildly different estimates for the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations.

Underestimating Superintelligence

Central to the Simulation Hypothesis is the idea that the simulators are, compared to us, vastly more intelligent – superintelligent. Vazza’s assessment of energy production possibilities, however, come merely from contemporary observations of transient natural phenomena such as supernovae. What about hypothetical technologies for sustainable energy that humans can already imagine, such as encapsulating stars in Dyson spheres, extracting energy from the rotation of black holes, or harnessing vacuum energy? And what if entirely novel methods for energy acquisition are discovered or created by superintelligence – intelligence that is, by definition, far superior at discovery and creation?

Contemporary engineers, of the intelligent but far from superintelligent variety, have already begun to take seriously energy production possibilities that their recent predecessors would have immediately deemed impossible, or even ridiculed. Recently, Google announced that its quantum computer performed a computation in under five minutes that would take one of today’s fastest supercomputers 10 septillion years (vastly longer than the age of our observed universe). And they observed that this “lends credence to the notion that quantum computation occurs in many parallel universes.” Such possibilities should temper our confidence in calculations stemming from strict energy ceilings based on present paradigms.

We Are Proof of Concept

Superintelligent possibilities may not be merely hypothetical. Whatever the metaphysics, something clearly has the energy to run the world of experience in which we now find ourselves. The very existence of our own consciousness-supporting world is proof of concept, whether or not superintelligence ever actually attains such power. And Vazza’s “impossible” conclusion may be construed as direct contradiction of this experience.

Moreover, possibility isn’t the most salient issue. Our world is clearly possible, at least once. The more salient issue is efficient cause. While those that Vazza considers may be impossible, at least one other efficient cause must be possible. And superintelligence may be capable of replicating it, computationally or otherwise.

Further, the regularity with which biology, culture, and technology converge on similar solutions across disparate moments in time and space should make us deeply skeptical that we (or our world) are unique, the first or only in kind. Proposing that our world of experience is unique, and that it cannot be computationally or otherwise artificially replicated, may raise more philosophical problems than it solves.

Conclusion

I sincerely commend Vazza for elevating consideration of the Simulation Hypothesis. But, in his own words, “the number of mysteries for physics to investigate is still so immense.” That immensity of mystery applies to the potential cost of simulation, as well as the potential capacity of superintelligence, even in worlds with physics like our own. And, contemplating repeated convergence in our actual world of experience, we should recognize Vazza’s “impossible” conclusion to be hyperbole.

If you’d like to explore my critique of Vazza’s paper at greater depth, check out “A Critical Examination of Astrophysical Constraints on the Simulation Hypothesis.” It’s a paper that I asked Google Gemini to generate, elaborating on and further substantiating these ideas. AI already has the ability to draw broadly (and yet still fallibly) on human expertise far beyond that which any of us can do individually. The immensity of mystery, it seems, isn’t destined to decrease.

Nick Bostrom’s formulation of the Simulation Argument is a rigorous reworking of what is, at its heart, an ancient question. Are we living in a created world? He distills the answer into three stark possibilities, a trilemma:

1. Doom: Almost all civilizations destroy themselves or otherwise fail before developing the capacity to create detailed simulations of their ancestors.

2. Abstinence: Some civilizations develop this technological capacity, but almost all choose not to simulate conscious agents, for ethical or other reasons.

3. Simulation: If our civilization survives and runs ancestor simulations, then simulated agents would vastly outnumber non-simulated agents, and, all else equal, our credence that we’re simulated should be very high.

In a critical analysis, Brian Eggleston highlights an unstated assumption underlying Bostrom’s formulation: we are not alone as technological pioneers. Specifically, Bostrom’s trilemma only entails the third possibility, that we’re simulated, if we assume that some other civilization – not only our future descendants – already ran ancestor simulations before our present. Without this assumption, we could imagine humanity as the first or only simulator, collapsing the trilemma into merely weak possibilities without force.

Principle of Technological Uniformity

However, I believe there’s an unstated intuition, yet another unrecognized assumption, behind Bostrom’s formulation. And that intuition, when identified and formally expressed as an assumption, fully addresses Eggleston’s criticism and maintains the force of the trilemma. I call that assumption the Principle of Technological Uniformity (PTU):

“If a given technology is feasible, beneficial, and once achieved by a civilization, then, all else equal (barring radically unique physics or values), that technology probably has been or will be achieved by other civilizations operating within similar conditions.”

PTU has at least three important characteristics. First, it provides rational grounds for supposing that becoming a simulator increases the probability that other simulators exist. Second, it reflects and extends many empirical precedents, including those broadly categorized as convergent evolution. Third, it maintains the strength of Bostrom’s trilemma, solving the problem that Eggleston identifies without appealing to exceptionalism.

Philosophical Support

PTU is grounded in the principle of mediocrity, or what people sometimes call the “Copernican” principle. As Copernicus removed from Earth the privilege of being the center of our conceptualization of the cosmos, so PTU would have us resist the temptation to privilege our human civilization uniquely in time or space or significance. Instead, given uncertainty and no evidence for our uniqueness, we should regard ourselves as typical. Human civilization on Earth is just one among many technological civilizations, subject to similar physics and incentives.

PTU is related to the anthropic principle. When considering the possibility of others developing technology like us, we shouldn’t default to flattering assumptions that would make us exceptional. To the contrary, as we observe ourselves developing increasingly detailed simulations, that should raise our credence that others have developed similar technologies before us. PTU is a meta-induction about technology diffusion, similar to but distinct from the self-sampling assumption.

Eggleston’s criticism hinges on the possibility that another civilization has already become a simulator. PTU invites us to assume this possibility has a significant probability, both for the philosophical reasons mentioned above, as well as empirical reasons shared below. We should assume that, where potential and incentive align, scientific discoveries and technological developments propagate, not deterministically, but frequently enough to warrant inductive reasoning from specific observations to generalizations.

Empirical Support

PTU is not merely a philosophical abstraction. Biological, cultural, and technological evolution are replete with convergence. Life and intelligence within similar constraints repeatedly arrive at similar solutions to similar problems.

Biological examples abound. The camera eye, constructed from radically different biological materials, appears to have evolved independently in both cephalopods (ancestors of the octopus) and vertebrates (ancestors of humans). Powered flight apparently evolved independently in insects, birds, and bats, reflecting similar constraints in aerodynamics. Where an environment rewards a particular function, nature finds a way to achieve that function, often more than once.

Cultural examples also abound. Agriculture seems to have begun independently on multiple continents, perhaps millennia apart. Writing systems appeared at disparate times in Sumer, Egypt, China, and Mesoamerica with little to no evidence of direct transmission. Even intricate toolmaking, such as fluted point technology used for projectiles like arrows, appears in archeological records on separate continents, despite a paucity of evidence for contact or common inheritance among them.

Today, we can observe technological convergence in the rapid global proliferation of computation. Moore’s Law (and its generalization into Kurzweil’s Law) is not just a local phenomenon. Countless independent groups have, motivated by shared incentives, moved computation and simulation technologies forward at accelerating rates. Now we construct virtual realities, whether for entertainment or science or otherwise, as if echoing an ancient call to create new worlds.

Saving the Simulation

Eggleston is right to caution against hidden assumptions. If, in actual fact, humanity were to become the only civilization to reach the simulation threshold, Bostrom’s trilemma would collapse. And the force of his articulation of the Simulation Argument would evaporate. PTU solves this problem, recognizing another hidden assumption, by insisting that when technology is both feasible and valuable, history predicts independent rediscovery.

It would be extraordinary to claim that human civilization will become the first and only simulator, uniquely lucky (or uniquely destined) in our technological potential. The probability that we are or will be the only civilization with our particular potential in any given technological domain shrinks against the weight of empirical precedent in the biological, cultural, and technological evolution that we have already observed or discovered. Assuming we eventually become simulators, the probability that we ourselves were simulated rises accordingly.

Backed by PTU, the Simulation Argument trilemma stands strong:

1. Doom: Almost all civilizations perish before becoming simulators.

2. Abstinence: Almost all civilizations choose not to become simulators.

3. Simulation: We almost certainly live in a simulation – one among unimaginably many.

To assert that humanity is a unique exception to PTU would be radical anthropocentrism, inconsistent with logic and history.

Conclusion

The Principle of Technological Uniformity is deeply rooted in both philosophical reasoning and empirical evidence. From that dependable ground, it resolves the problem that Eggleston identifies in Bostrom’s formulation of the Simulation Argument. If we recognize ourselves as neither central nor exceptional, but rather as part of the grand convergent patterns of the cosmos, then we should also recognize that we could not have become simulators unless other simulators already exist. Thus, Bostrom’s trilemma persists with full force.

Meridian Magazine positions itself as a publication for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the largest Mormon denomination. I don’t know much about Meridian or the people behind it. But today I learned that they’re willing to publish a fear-mongering distortion of Transhumanism, “Human 2.0 Is Here – And You Didn’t Even Notice” by Alexis Tarkaleson. Despite their positioning, I wish to make make clear that such behavior is not aligned with the values that the Church advocates.

Tarkaleson says “mind uploading” is an outlandish tale. What’s her take on tales of transfiguration and resurrection? Are those equally outlandish? Surely she’s aware that those doctrines require the possibility of mind (or spirit body) moving from one physical body to another, consistent with hypotheses of mind uploading.

How about cryonics, yet another outlandish tale she identifies? I’m curious to know what she thinks about the Church’s advocacy to collect genealogy and preserve family history, with intent to facilitate redemption of the dead. And what about proxy rituals that we perform for the dead? Most of the world probably thinks the Church’s practices in these areas are at least as outlandish as those of cryonicists.

What about “the god-like ‘posthuman’”? She says that’s outlandish too. Is she aware that Joseph Smith, the founding prophet of the Church, claimed that God “was once a man like us” in his last general conference sermon? If Joseph was right, as I trust, that would literally make God a posthuman.

If these Transhumanist ambitions are merely “crazy sci-fi,” as Tarkaleson suggests, then the doctrines of the Church are crazy religious fiction. You see, the biggest difference between these ambitions isn’t their audacity, which detractors would disparage as mere fiction. Rather, the biggest difference is the narrative esthetic in which these ambitions are commonly expressed. Esthetics do matter, but not so much that we should willfully distort common underlying functions.

Tarkaleson echoes someone else’s professed concern with Transhumanism’s “obsession” with anti-aging and perfectionism. That seems hypocritical coming from a member of a Church, in whose buildings one can hear, just about any Sunday, that human immortality is part of the work and glory of God.

But Tarkaleson has bigger concerns with Transhumanism, she says. She identifies those concerns as “gender ideology,” “reproductive technology,” “abandonment of religion and family,” and “diminishing value of human life and human relationships.” Let’s look at what she says.

Gender Ideology

First, Tarkaleson addresses gender ideology. And she starts by criticizing a strawman of the concept of morphological freedom. She characterizes it as “unlimited freedom to transform your body … on a whim,” while mentioning but not fully taking into account the fact that most Transhumanists actually would limit that freedom to be “so long as it does not harm others.” I wonder if she doesn’t like the doctrine of agency, as advocated by Mormon scripture and the Church? Whether we like it or not, morphological freedom is a kind of agency.

Tarkaleson says that Transhumanists have given morphological freedom “the ultimate position of sacredness by placement in the Transhuman Bill of Rights.” As it turns out, Mormon scripture has done functionally the same thing with the doctrine of agency. Our scriptures even go so far as to claim that Satan “sought to destroy the agency that God had given to His children.” Whose side is she on?

To emphasize her concern with gender ideology, Tarkaleson aims her criticisms at two prominent Transhumanists. One is Martine Rothblatt, who is transgender. And the other is Fereidoun M. Esfandiary (FM2030), who advocated for androgyny and asexuality. Such Transhumanists are, Tarkaleson correctly points out, natural allies with the transgender movement.

Yet some Transhumanists have concerns with how some expressions of the transgender movement have harmed others, going beyond the limits of morphological freedom. Some of us think gender is a blessing rather than a curse, and more likely to extend into than disappear from our posthuman future. And some of us know that secular persons and values are hardly the oldest forerunners of Transhumanism, which can actually trace its history back through deeply religious proto-Transhumanists and beyond to ancient religious analogs of Transhumanism.

Reproductive Technology

Next, Tarkaleson addresses reproductive technology. Here, she starts with asserting that Transhumanism finds its roots in birth control and abortion. This claim is absurd to the point of being stunning. The best evidence she can muster is a quote from a non-Transhumanist advocate of artificial reproduction.

Tarkaleson says that Transhumanists cry out, “More, more, more,” as society speeds ahead with unethical reproductive technology. Again, she has no evidence for this claim regarding Transhumanists in particular. But she does again try to support this characterization of Transhumanists by citing stats about non-Transhumanists. I wish I didn’t need to say that her reasoning is vague and poor.

As it turns out, Transhumanists probably do generally support ethical approaches to the use of reproductive technology. And they’re far from alone. Another organization that supports ethical use of reproductive technology is the Church. Here’s the official Church policy on children conceived by artificial insemination or IVF:

“Children conceived by artificial insemination or in vitro fertilization are born in the covenant if their parents are already sealed. If the children are born before their parents are sealed, they may be sealed to their parents after their parents are sealed to each other.”

Tarkaleson criticizes IVF in particular, along with other reproductive technologies. She claims, “future generations will be detached from all the benefits that come from a natural conception and birth.” I wonder what she thinks of countless members of the Church who wouldn’t be alive, or whose posterity wouldn’t be alive, if they had not benefitted from reproductive technology. Whatever she thinks, many of the rest of us think these technologies can be blessings from God.

This leads her to eugenics, with which she charges Transhumanists. She does allude to the fact that most Transhumanists actually oppose eugenics because it entails coercion. But then she blithely dismisses this problem with her charge. Apparently Tarkaleson thinks people shouldn’t be permitted to do things she doesn’t like, even if those things don’t hurt anyone.

Tarkaleson has concerns with anyone “destroying embryos that don’t check the box.” I know Transhumanists who have intentionally proceeded to give birth to children with known genetic abnormalities such as Down Syndrome. But beyond that discrepancy with her indignation, is she suggesting that we shouldn’t even attempt to know or take responsibility for the well-being of our as-yet-unborn children? Isn’t that intention toward ignorance and impotence just as malicious as careless destruction of embryos?

She is particularly alarmed by reproductive technologies that would permit single persons or groups of persons to procreate. While I would likely agree with her evaluation of the general benefits of traditional families, I wonder if she has thought much about the nature of spiritual procreation entailed by Mormon theology. And how does Mormonism’s history with divinely-sanctioned polygamy fit into her view of these matters? This matter is more complex than she has acknowledged, even if it’s rightly recognized as an area with significant risk.

Beyond her general hand-waving about reproductive technology, Tarkaleson completes her criticism of Transhumanism, finally, by returning to an actual Transhumanist, Zoltan Istvan. He apparently predicted that traditional childbirth will be eradicated within 50 years. She thinks his claim is sufficient to conclude that Transhumanists think there’s nothing to be gained from tradition or Mother Nature. Unfortunately for her, or fortunately depending on your perspective, some of us actually think there’s much to learn from tradition and Mother Nature, even while continuing to create using all the means that the grace of God provides.

Peacemakers

That’s it. Tarkaleson doesn’t explain her concerns with Transhumanism’s supposed conflicts with religion, family, relationships, and humanism. Would she be surprised to learn that Mormon Transhumanists love our religion, families, relationships, and humanity? She threatens to write about those things in part two of an article series that Meridian Magazine should never have started publishing in the first place.

I mentioned in my intro that Meridian’s choice to publish this article does not align with the values of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And I’ve suggested some reasons for that, ways in which Transhumanism aligns with Mormon values, throughout the body of this article. But there’s a bigger reason, particularly bigger for Meridian and its audience.

Current president of the Church, Russell M. Nelson, has encouraged members of the Church to be peacemakers. “Replace belligerence with beseeching, animosity with understanding, and contention with peace,” he urged in a recent general conference. And, he continued, “make any adjustments that may be needed so that your behavior is ennobling, respectful, and representative of a true follower of Jesus Christ.”

By choosing to publish a fear-mongering distortion of Transhumanism, Meridian has engaged in exactly the opposite of the behavior that President Nelson encouraged. As a consequence, many of its readers will misunderstand and fear Transhumanism, like many people misunderstand and fear members of the Church. And some who misunderstand and fear the Church will misunderstand and fear it even more as a consequence of their article, thinking it representative of the Church. It’s a vicious cycle.

To those reading this who may not know much about Transhumanism, about Mormonism in general, or about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints in particular, please know that there are far better sources than Meridian Magazine for information on the relationship between Mormonism and Transhumanism. Some members of the Church actually identify as Transhumanists. And some of us organized the Mormon Transhumanist Association two decades ago. That would be a good place to start, where you can read charitable accounts of both Transhumanism and Mormonism, and the Church, from people who understand them well enough to make peace.