“Seeking God . . . in Silicon Valley.”

In my last post I promised to turn next to penal substitutionary atonement (PSA), an idea at the heart of evangelical theology and, I’ll argue, at the heart of evangelical politics. I will address PSA soon; I had every intention to do so in this post. But as these things happen, something I read this week in the onslaught of dismaying newspaper headlines caught my attention as immediate and important and relevant to what we’ve been doing here: an article by Emma Goldberg in the New York Times (NYT) with the unexpected title, “Seeking God, or Peter Thiel, in Silicon Valley.” A subtitle reads, “When tech luminaries talk about their Christian faith, people listen” (NYT, February 11, 2025). Given the present threat to democracy, a threat led in part by Silicon Valley bros, I thought it wise to address the article and perhaps with it to open a new series for the future: Conversations with the Culture.

Conversations with the Culture

Churches often fail to address present-day cultural conversations. I mentioned this some time ago in a piece I did on human sexuality. I noted that in a huge (175 page) Christian Reformed (CRC) study of human sexuality the authors never addressed the current cultural conversation about consent: questions like What constitutes sexual consent? Who can give consent and who can’t? To what one can consent and to what one cannot properly consent? And so forth. The study report complains that “Perhaps nothing in North American culture has changed more rapidly and dramatically than sexual mores,” but if that is the case, shouldn’t it address a key element in the new mores, the element of consent? 

One could imagine a much more interesting and productive synodical study of human sexuality that would begin by discussing what new things we have learned about sexuality, both the perils of that new knowledge and the possibilities in it. In this study, the Bible would constitute one conversation partner, anchoring us to the biblical view of what it means to be a person. Christian theology another. The church another. And the contemporary cultural conversation, including the voices of LGBTQ+ people, still another. But such a conversation would require humility and an eagerness to listen and learn. The resulting report would not simply repeat what we already know, as if we already know everything that needs saying about the topic, but offer fresh perspectives, new insights, and better ways to love each other.

It’s that sort of conversation I am seeking in this series. It’s in conversation with other voices that we will best discover our own. Jesus was not afraid to enter the conversations of his own time. We should not be either. And, so, in this post, I propose to engage an important conversation currently taking place about the nature of our social contract: about citizenship, government, human nature, responsibility to others, and more. The direction set by the conversation is playing out in real time as we speak. I have in mind to engage only one small part of it, but even that small part of a much larger conversation is important and, well, chilling.

Peter Thiel and Political Theology

We might begin with the recent New York Times article by Emma Goldberg, usually a business reporter, I referenced above. The article eventually drifts in the direction of Trae and Michelle Stephens, a couple who have begun a series of discussions under the umbrella of the Acts 17 Collective, an organization which brings together tech workers and speakers to discuss theology and ethics. It’s apparent that the Stephens were willing to talk to Goldberg, even welcoming the NYT cameras into their home, and that Peter Thiel was not. But it’s Peter Thiel who remains at the center of the story, and it’s to him that the title adverts: “Seeking God, or Peter Thiel, in Silicon Valley.”

You may know Thiel as the founder of PayPal or as the founder of Palantir, a big-data firm, or for his early investment in Facebook. Or, perhaps, you know him for his involvement in the Gawker lawsuit, the lawsuit brought by Terry Bollea (better known as Hulk Hogan) for invasion of privacy after Gawker had put a sex tape of Bollea and the wife of a friend online—a suit in which Bollea prevailed and Gawker was forced to close. Or perhaps you know him for his support of Donald Trump in his 2016 and 2020 campaigns. Or for his sponsorship of JD Vance. The latter is perhaps the most important. Much of what JD Vance appears to believe seems to come from the political theology of Peter Thiel.

What you may not know is that Thiel grew up in an evangelical family. Or that, in Goldberg’s words:

Mr. Thiel has long been an exception to the atheism and agnosticism of his peers. He has said his Christian faith is at the center of his worldview, which he expounds upon with a heterodox approach — fusing references to Scripture and conservative political theory, parsing ancient signs and wonders for their connection to tech wonders today. 

His evangelical background may be exceptional, as Goldberg has it, but his fascination with theological questions is not. These days the tech bros have moved to the right (witness the tech bros cohort at Trump’s inauguration). They seem intent on presenting themselves as arbiters of the cultural moment, believing that they possess an uncommon wisdom for our time. And this wisdom comes to expression in what Thiel calls “political theology.”

Jordan Peterson and Elon Musk

I’ll come to Thiel’s proposals in a moment, but as a sidebar, Emma Goldberg in her Times article, refers to a Jordan Peterson interview of Elon Musk. Even Musk, the governmental wrecking ball, was asked to weigh in on the religious moment. As it turns out, the Peterson interview of Musk, dated July 22, 2024, is almost unwatchable, not for Musk but for Peterson, who keeps interrupting Musk to go off on one of his forays into the Bible and antiquity, most of which suffer from an almost total lack of understanding anything about the Bible or antiquity. I watched the interview for as long as I could stand it until Peterson got to be too much for me. Musk meanwhile looked like he would liked to have been almost anywhere except sitting in a chair opposite of Jordan Peterson. 

For me the high point of the interview came when Musk was trying to explain how he came out of a childhood funk after he had come to the conclusion that life was meaningless. Peterson, leaning forward like an earnest counselor, asked what turned him around. Musk said, “Douglas Adams.” Peterson seemed not to know who Douglas Adams was. Musk said, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. And he explained the central joke in Hitchhiker’s Guide: a computer program that has been running for centuries finally spits out the long awaited answer. It’s just “42.” A number. But no one knows what it means. By that time no one can remember the question. Peterson seems not to get the joke.

Back to Thiel

If Musk seems stuck in perpetual adolescence, not so Thiel. And while Musk is the wrecking ball of the moment, Thiel’s political theology provides the intellectual framework for what Musk and others are doing. 

Thiel knows something about the Bible, but he appears to read the Bible primarily as a set of images useful for understanding the present moment. In a lengthy interview with Tyler Cowen, Thiel discusses a passage from 2 Thessalonians 2. In the passage, Paul (if, indeed, 2 Thessalonians is from Paul) talks mysteriously about a “lawless one” and about a power restraining the lawless one, the (Greek) katechon. Here are the relevant verses from the New Revised Standard Version:

Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day [the day of the Lord’s coming] will not come unless the rebellion comes first and the lawless one [ho anthrōpos tēsʾanomias] is revealed, the one destined for destruction. He opposes and exalts himself above every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, declaring himself to be God. . .. And you know what is now restraining him [to katechon], so that he may be revealed when his time comes. For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work, but only until the one who now restrains it is removed. And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will destroy with the breath of his mouth, annihilating him by the manifestation of his coming. (2 Thessalonians 2:3-4, 6-8)

For Thiel, the lawless one can stand in for a variety of enemies. (He rather too quickly identifies the lawless one of 2 Thessalonians 2 with the antichrist of the epistles of John.) He gives as an example of lawlessness the Soviet communism of the 20^th century and as the restraining force, the katechon, 20^th century anticommunism. In a quick aside, he offered another example, one he appears not to take seriously: the effects of global warming as the lawlessness and Greta Thunberg as the katechon. (Thiel seems to have a thing for Greta Thunberg, mentioning her more than once in the interview.) But for Thiel, the lawless one is world government. It’s against world government that he and others serve as the restraining force, the katechon.

At least, that’s where he begins. In a curious turn, he flips the analogy on its head. Pondering the biblical imagery, one might ask, which have we most to fear: the lawless one or the katechon? The lawless one, in Paul’s imagery, brings destruction, but it also provides a passage to the Day of the Lord. Until the lawless one comes, the Day of the Lord cannot come. By restraining the lawless one, the katechon effectively restrains the coming of the new age. Perhaps it’s the katechon and not the lawless one that is the problem. And this is what Thiel finally appears to think. The katechon is liberal democracy; the lawless one is, well, Elon Musk and Donald Trump, tearing thing down. As Mark Zuckerman famously said the key to success is to “move fast and break things.”

Muddling Through

In the Tyler Cowen interview of Thiel, there is a revelatory moment when Cowen asks about “muddling through.” Thiel wants none of it, no “muddling through.” Cowen pushes Thiel on this point. He says, “So your skepticism about muddling through—would you say that’s your actual real political theology?” Thiel admits the point: “Whenever people think you can just muddle through you are probably set up for some kind of disaster.” He adds, “It’s a distrust in human agency, a distrust in human thought, a distrust in our ability to make choices.”

Be very clear about what Thiel is saying here. When he talks about “human agency,” he’s not talking about your agency or mine; he’s talking about the agency of billionaires, especially tech billionaires, like himself. “Muddling through” in this conversation stands for liberal democracy; human agency stands for the right of people like Thiel to pursue their own goals.

Carl Schmitt

Behind these thoughts—and not far behind them—is Carl Schmitt (1888-1985). It was Carl Schmitt who coined the term Thiel prefers, “political theology.” Schmitt brought together a distinctive idea of politics with an idea about executive power. For Schmitt, politics is by definition conflictual. It’s conflict that gives to politics its particular configuration. In politics, the world is “reducible to the existential distinction between friend and enemy” (Wikipedia). Without conflict, friends and enemies, political life is not political.

Because political life is conflictual, a matter of friends and enemies, executive power for Schmitt needs to be absolute. The effective ruler must be a “dictator,” a term Schmitt eagerly embraces. No “muddling through”; the effective ruler seizes power by declaring a “state of exception” and setting a firm direction for the state. 

It will not surprise you that in 1933 Schmitt joined the Nazi party. Although he lived to 1985, he never apologized for his support of Adolf Hitler or for his open antisemitism. Nor, perhaps, will it surprise you that Schmitt’s political theology has continued to influence political thought on both right and left. What distinguishes Schmitt’s political theology is its unabashed support for dictatorial rule. For those who believe that they know best, whether on the right or left, Schmitt gives them permission to seek absolute power. 

For Peter Thiel and others of his ilk this is the power to create a future unconstrained by government regulation and oversight. To do so, they need a biblical “lawless one,” the one who tears down the old so they can build the new. And for that purpose, the second Trump administration, augmented by Elon Musk and his minions, serves the purpose. All that would restrain the lawless one, liberal democracy, elections, the bureaucracy—all the katechonic elements of society—must be thrown off. In their place, the followers of Schmitt like Thiel and others propose a “unitary executive,” a barely disguised version of Schmitt’s dictator. Go fast and break things is the order of the day. We are watching it happen.

Ways to Resist

So how do we resist this way of thinking? Allow me a few suggestions. The list could be much longer, but perhaps these suggestions will prompt some of your own. (For a much longer secular list of ways to resist tyranny, check out Timothy Snyder’s On Tyranny originally published in 2017 and, even better, the expanded audio version published in 2022.)

(1) Recognize the Thiel political theology and others like it for what it is: more Carl Schmitt than Jesus, more about power than love, more fascist than Christian. Thiel flips the Christian faith upside down. At the weekly evensong service the choir at our Tucson church chants the Magnificat, Mary’s song from Luke 1:46-55. Mary, pregnant and unmarried, from a desolate small town in Galilee, sings the significance of her unborn child:

He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.  He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,  and lifted up the lowly;  he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Thiel is fond of citing scripture, but there is not much of Jesus in his political theology. Not all who claim Christ are of Christ.

(2) Engage the broader discussion about the future of the human race. This broader discussion includes such topics as artificial intelligence, brain science, transhumanism, extended life, dataism, and much more. An excellent primer for all things theological in the tech world is Meghan O’Gieblyn’s book, God, Man, Animal, Machine (2021). O’Gieblyn has the theological and philosophical chops to make her way through the world of tech speculation about the future of the human race. 

It’s telling in this regard to note that in both Tyler Cowen’s interview of Peter Thiel and O’Gieblyn’s book John Calvin comes up. Early on in the Thiel interview, Cowen says to him, “Isn’t the consistent Peter Thiel really a Calvinist?” What Cowen means by Calvinism is a sort of black box theology: you can’t actually know God or why God does what God does, for example, in choosing some people and not others. You can only accept what is and honor it. Thiel denies that he is a Calvinist, but the fact that Cowen cites Calvin indicates how explicitly theological the thinking at the edges of the tech world really is.

O’Gieblyn talks about Calvin in recounting her time at Moody Bible Institute. A handful of professors in that expressly Arminian institution were Calvinists, and they attracted a group of nerdy guys—women were largely excluded—who embraced the New Calvinism for its theological complexity and anti-empathetic ethos. She wanted to be one of them, but she ultimately threw Calvinism over after studying Job. 

Still, for O’Gieblyn, the theological issues presented by Calvin and other theologians of the past have not gone away. In the tech world, they have morphed into questions not just about God and humans but about animals and machines. Especially machines. These questions have taken on a new immediacy with the advent of the computer age. If the church is to speak to our times, we cannot ignore these questions. 

(3) Address the issues of globalism. In a recent interview with Ross Douthat, Steve Bannon argued that the great political divide in the US is not Republican and Democrat but globalist and nationalist. It’s not that simple, of course. Currently Elon Musk is trying to tear down one kind of globalism—the democratic liberalism that he sees as restraining him—for another kind of globalism, one that Bannon vociferously opposes. But the issue is fundamental for our time.

Let me pose it in slightly different terms. The issue is living together and living separately. In the 21^stcentury, we must find ways to live together. The most difficult problems we face are global: climate change, the flow of refugees, the threat of mass destruction, the scarcity of resources, and more. These are not issues that one nation can solve without other nations. We must find ways to manage and mitigate these issues, and we must find them together.

At the same time, much of the best of life is local: local foods, ways of speaking, customs, music, and more. These, too, must be honored and preserved as we are able. But how are we to do both: manage global problems and preserve local life? This, it seems to me, is the central question of our age.

Does the church have something to contribute to these questions? I think we do. Our faith is both global and local. Perhaps, especially in our eschatological thinking, we have ways of understanding these issues and working toward solutions.

(4) Insist that all our solutions to these problems are at best provisional. Mature faith recognizes that we are always, to use Tyler Cowen’s phrase, “muddling through.” The fact that Peter Thiel reacted so strongly against Cowen’s idea of muddling through marks him as dangerous. It’s true believers, those who claim to own the truth, who are the most to be feared. Or, perhaps in our time, those who believe that the only truth is whatever they want it to be. “Muddling through” speaks to the humility and solidarity required of us as humans. 

(5) Ground our faith anew in the way of Jesus. Our faith—our Christian brand—has been much damaged. Many people now identify Christianity with right wing extremism. David French has written recently about a movement among Christians who oppose empathy: to feel anything for others weakens the resolve to do what needs to be done—like refuse refugees asylum or cut off aid to people who have less than we do. Christianity has come to be defined in some people’s eyes more by Trump than by Jesus.

In every way we can, we must push back on those who would have Christianity without Jesus. Someone recently asked me how I would describe the gospel to someone inquiring about the faith. My answer is simple: follow Jesus.

For now I’ll end there. As we try to understand our times and our faith more deeply, I hope that we can add to this partial list of ways to engage the cultural conversation. These are fraught times. We’ll need each other.

Clay