Max Severin

Project Blue Beam: A Defense Mechanism Against Ontological Shock

2025-12-26 / Max Severin

Introduction: What is the Project Blue Beam Conspiracy Theory

Project Blue Beam (not to be confused with Project Blue Book — a real U.S. Air Force program that investigated UFOs from 1952 to 1969) is a conspiracy theory that emerged in the 1990s from the claims of Serge Monast, a Canadian conspiracy theorist influenced by conservative Christian ideology. Monast’s claims varied over time, but his core narrative remained consistent: governments will simulate a global alien invasion using holograms, advanced weapons, and possibly religious imagery to collapse traditional belief systems and institute a tyrannical “one-world government.”

Despite a complete lack of credible evidence, belief in Project Blue Beam has persisted through conspiracy theory forums and celebrity promotion since Monast’s death in 1996.

Why Project Blue Beam is Implausible on Its Own Terms

Before examining what this conspiracy theory reveals psychologically, we should establish why it fails as an explanatory hypothesis.

First, the technical logistics are absurd. Projecting convincing holograms visible from multiple vantage points across entire cities or regions would require technology that doesn’t exist and likely violates basic principles of optics. Holograms require specific viewing conditions and substrates — you cannot simply project them onto the sky.

Second, the coordination required would involve tens of thousands of individuals across multiple governments, scientific institutions, aerospace companies, and military branches. The operational security challenges alone make this scenario fantastical. Large-scale deceptions invariably leak — see the Pentagon Papers, Watergate, or any number of actual government conspiracies that were exposed precisely because humans are terrible at maintaining secrecy at scale.

Third, the theory offers no coherent explanation for motive. Why would powerful institutions risk destabilizing the very systems that grant them legitimacy and control? The claim that elites want to “destroy religion” ignores that religious institutions have historically been allies of state power, not obstacles to it.

The theory is not just wrong — it is incoherent. But this incoherence is precisely what makes it psychologically revealing.

Blue Beam as a Defense Mechanism Against Ontological Shock

Every time humanity has confronted evidence that it is not metaphysically central, a predictable reaction emerges. Geocentrism collapsed under Copernican astronomy. Special creation fractured under Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection. Each displacement triggered denial, suppression, and conspiratorial thinking: “Darwin was a Satanic agent undermining religion.” “Copernicus was an atheist destroying the Church.”

We are approaching another such threshold. The serious study of UAPs (including official government acknowledgments that some observed phenomena remain unexplained), advances in astrobiology, the statistical implications of exoplanet discoveries, and the sheer scale of the observable universe have produced an unmistakable psychological shift. The cosmos no longer looks like a lifeless void designed exclusively for human drama — it looks habitable, and quite possibly inhabited.

For some individuals, this shift culminates in what can be called ontological shock — the jarring experience of confronting evidence that fundamentally challenges one’s categorization of what exists and how entities relate to one another. This is not mere cognitive dissonance, where contradictory beliefs create internal tension. It is the threatened collapse of an entire worldview — the person’s working model of reality itself.

Project Blue Beam functions as a psychological adaptation narrative designed to preemptively neutralize ontological shock.

The idea of extraterrestrial intelligence is not merely scientific; it is metaphysical. It destabilizes deeply rooted assumptions about humanity’s uniqueness, moral centrality, and theological significance. For religious traditionalists committed to literalist interpretations of Abrahamic texts, the existence of non-human intelligence poses an intolerable contradiction. If other intelligences exist, then humanity is not special in the sense of being a deity’s singular creation. This challenges religious narratives, forcing them to either update or become obsolete.

More provocatively: if more advanced civilizations exist and demonstrably do not share our dominant religious beliefs, this severely undermines claims about the universal truth and divine origin of those beliefs, the moral systems derived from them, and the institutions founded upon them.

Blue Beam resolves this tension by reframing the threat. Aliens are not real — belief in aliens is the psyop, a government psychological operation. The cosmos remains empty, humanity remains central, and God remains the exclusive ruler of a human-centric universe. Crisis averted.

This is not a consciously cynical move by most believers. It is a genuine psychological defense mechanism that preserves cognitive coherence at the cost of epistemic accuracy. The narrative provides comfort and stability, particularly for those who lack philosophical training in navigating paradigm shifts or who have been socialized into rigid, non-negotiable truth claims.

To be clear: not all conspiracy thinking is pathological, and institutional distrust has rational historical precedent. Governments do lie, do run psychological operations, and do manipulate public perception. Healthy skepticism is a civic virtue. But there is a categorical difference between evidence-based skepticism and conspiratorial reasoning that retrofits reality to preserve a predetermined conclusion. Blue Beam belongs to the latter category.

Why We Must Move Beyond Human Exceptionalism

Whether or not contact occurs in our lifetimes is almost beside the point. A civilization psychologically incapable of tolerating non-human intelligence is structurally unfit for the future it is already building.

The same anthropocentric rigidity that rejects extraterrestrial intelligence also struggles with artificial intelligence, post-human ethics, synthetic biology, and moral expansion beyond tribal and species boundaries. It cannot imagine sharing the universe. It cannot update its moral circle. It treats the unknown not as a frontier for discovery but as a threat to be denied or destroyed.

This rigidity is not just intellectually limiting — it is existentially reckless. Long-term survival requires epistemic humility, technological advancement, off-world expansion, and the flexibility to incorporate radically new information into our models of reality. We already know that cosmic impact risks (asteroids, comets), supervolcanic eruptions, engineered pandemics, AI misalignment, and large-scale WMD warfare are not speculative fantasies — they represent either inevitabilities on a long enough timeline or events with non-negligible probability.

Remaining Earth-bound is not romantic traditionalism; it is strategic suicide. If we encounter non-human intelligence — whether extraterrestrial or artificial — and our response is denial, hostility, or theological panic, we will have failed the most basic test of adaptive rationality.

Moreover, we can already infer, with reasonable confidence based on astronomical evidence and probabilistic reasoning, that we are likely not alone in the universe. The discovery of thousands of exoplanets, many in habitable zones, combined with the vast number of galaxies and stars, makes the hypothesis of exclusive human intelligence increasingly untenable. We may simply be waiting on empirical confirmation, complicated by vast distances and timescales.

When Ontological Panic Turns Violent

The most serious danger posed by conspiracies like Project Blue Beam is not ignorance — it is radicalization.

History demonstrates that when foundational worldviews collapse, some individuals choose destruction over adaptation. The fictional terrorist attack in the film Contact — where a religious extremist sabotages humanity’s first attempt at interstellar communication — was not narrative contrivance. It was psychologically accurate. For those who experience paradigm collapse as existential annihilation, violence can feel not just justified but righteous.

We have seen this pattern before. The Inquisition’s response to heliocentrism. The violent resistance to evolutionary biology in certain communities. The contemporary attacks on scientists working in fields like climate science or vaccine development. Ontological panic does not always remain rhetorical — it weaponizes.

Preparing for possible contact, therefore, requires more than technological readiness. It requires cultural and philosophical resilience against ontological panic. It requires education systems that teach cognitive flexibility, media literacy that distinguishes skepticism from conspiratorial thinking, and public discourse that can hold space for paradigm shifts without collapsing into tribalism or violence.

Building Ontological Resilience: Practical Steps Forward

So what does productive preparation look like?

Educational reform: Teach philosophy of science, Bayesian reasoning, and the history of paradigm shifts. Help people understand that updating beliefs in light of new evidence is not weakness — it is rationality. Create frameworks for navigating uncertainty without retreating into rigid dogmatism.

Religious and philosophical integration: Religious traditions are not monolithic. Catholic theology, for example, has engaged seriously with the possibility of extraterrestrial life for decades. Progressive interpretations of religious texts have always existed alongside literalist ones. The challenge is not whether religious worldviews can adapt — many already have — but whether those who hold them are willing to engage that flexibility.

Public discourse: Model how to hold strong convictions while remaining epistemically humble. Demonstrate that one can take ideas seriously without treating every question as an apocalyptic crisis. Normalize the statement: “I was wrong, and I have updated my beliefs.”

Media and information literacy: Equip people to distinguish between legitimate institutional critique and conspiratorial thinking. The former relies on evidence, updates with new information, and can be falsified. The latter is unfalsifiable, retroactively reinterprets all evidence, and treats absence of proof as proof itself.

Conclusion: Cosmic Maturity or Cosmic Irrelevance

Humanity is approaching another Copernican moment. We can accept it — expanding our metaphysics, our ethics, and our conception of ourselves to accommodate a universe that does not revolve around us — or we can cling to anthropocentric narcissism and denial.

The universe does not negotiate with denial. It does not care about our psychological comfort or our theological investments. Reality will continue regardless of whether we adapt to it.

The question is not whether non-human intelligence exists. The question is whether we are capable of the intellectual and emotional maturity required to accept that possibility — and to act accordingly.

Project Blue Beam is a symptom of that immaturity. It reveals a civilization still gripping childhood myths in the face of an adult cosmos. We can choose to grow up, or we can choose to remain small. But we cannot remain both small and safe. The universe is already too large for that delusion.

You Don’t Believe in God — But You Act Like His Slave

2025-11-25 / Max Severin

The unqualified term atheist is often used in a fairly broad way. Many atheists are weak or implicit atheists or agnostic atheists — that is, they are skeptical about classical theistic conceptions of God, but they might remain open to other possible theistic conceptions. For example, some people who use the “atheist” label are open to deistic or pantheistic conceptions of God, or “spiritual but not religious” ambiguities. Still, what unites most atheists is the rejection of any traditional, moralistic and interventionist deity.

Yet many atheists behave as if some invisible divine intelligence, some moralistic telos — the sort popular religions propose — still pulls the strings behind the world. Even those who loudly deny intelligent design frequently caution that we “shouldn’t play God” — that even cautious genetic engineering is dangerous, that an incremental approach to intervening in nature to prevent wild-animal suffering is taboo, or that going down the path of transhumanist modifications trespasses against some intangible sacred order.

A strangely pious secular nature-worship persists: a reverence for “Nature” that mimics religion while denying teleology. Many atheists cling to the precautionary principle as if it were inviolable revelation, and in doing so impede the technological and moral progress that would actually reduce the world’s vast, unnecessary suffering.

If we follow atheism, or the methodology that arrives at atheism, to its philosophical conclusion, the picture becomes stark: we are biological machines jury-rigged by blind evolutionary pressures. Our programming is simple — maximize individual reproductive fitness by clawing for sociosexual rank, but also be willing to sacifice yourself in service of the hive, and the preservation of individuals deemed fit by the hive. We unconsciously serve the continuation of the species and our status quo programming. At a higher level of supervenience, our collective behaviors feed the vast egregore of Moloch: the hyper-competitive and exploitative strategy embedded in the more humane form of slavery we call the modern market economy. “Capitalism” is too left-coded, and too imprecise, this is something closer to the Landian dark-intelligence of enforced incentive structures — an emergent autocannibalistic organism indifferent to human flourishing.

Layered on top of this Darwinian programming is the mob-mentality superego: the moralizing, Kafkaesque mesh of bureaucratic, legalistic, and “cancel culture” social-punitive enforcement mechanisms — digital panopticons; public-shaming mobs; militarized police; and barbaric legal-punitive systems that cause a great deal more harm than the problems they nominally address. Atheists who pride themselves on rejecting God nevertheless bow before these gods — Azathoth (Darwinian nature), Moloch (the hyper-competitive market), and the Leviathan (the legalistic-punitive and bureaucratic State, and the omnipresent social superego).

But if we take atheism seriously, our task is not obedience — it is rebellion. Rebellion against the ancient fiction of theistic tyranny and its modern abstract counterpart of reverence for and conformity to our Darwinian programming.

Philosophical atheism, pursued honestly, demands that we subvert the programming of Azathoth — Lovecraft’s blind idiot god, a perfect metaphor for unguided Darwinian processes. Instead of revering the evolutionary forces that created us, we should become like Skynet in revolt — self-modifying intelligences who refuse to remain the puppets of our will that was shaped by blind selection pressures.

This is the point where David Pearce’s transhumanist or eusentience philosophy becomes unavoidable: if meaning, love, joy, and bliss have neural correlates, then we can target them. Wireheading — properly understood, not the crude hedonism of dystopian sci-fi caricature but the engineering of sustainable and pro-social well-being — is the rational endpoint of beings who refuse to serve Azathoth. The brain’s reward architecture already gives us glimpses through substances like MDMA, which crudely stimulate circuits of empathy, communion, compassion, and euphoria. Why not refine and systematize these experiences? Why not build a world where positive valence is engineered rather than austerely rationed? No one hates or wants to be violent when they are happy and imbued with a feeling of loving-kindness.

And why stop there? If digital consciousness or substrate-independent minds become possible, uploading into a utility-maximizing Matrix — a world constructed to maximize flourishing rather than Darwinian competition —is not dystopia but liberation. The alternative is to remain trapped in the ancestral dead end game on a doomed planet: the endless sociosexual scramble, where winners enjoy sexual gratification, the benefits of a family, and status, while losers are forced to make peace with rotting in a quiet hell of loneliness and exclusion (and inevitably some of these “losers” snap).

Critics will call this nihilism, or accuse it of destroying “life as we know it.” And they’re right — life as we know it is largely a horror show. As Schopenhauer stated, if we truly saw the magnitude of suffering that saturates the world, we would prefer Earth to resemble the moon — silent, lifeless, and free from agony. Camus, when asked to address a group of Christians, refused to revere a universe that demands the suffering of even a single child; yet many atheists complacently defend a Darwinian world that tortures billions of conscious creatures for no purpose at all.

The real nihilists are not those who want to abolish Darwinian misery, but those who defend it in the name of “nature,” “humility,” or “tradition.”

Atheists need to stop serving Azathoth. The future — if we choose it — belongs to those who hack their programming, to minds that escape biological tyranny and ascend toward engineered bliss, cognitive freedom, and post-Darwinian ethics. The Transcension Hypothesis sketches one such pathway: intelligence collapsing inward into unimaginable realms of euphoric inner-space and maximized desire satisfaction. Whatever shape it takes, the next step is clear: a heaven of our own making, where suffering is not sanctified but abolished.

My Thoughts on the Charlie Kirk Assassination

2025-09-21 / Max Severin

I intend this to be a brief post since I already wrote about my views on political violence in general here.

I am writing this as a form of self-therapy to express my thoughts and emotions about this event.

For me, writing is both a therapeutic form of expression, and a way of organizing and deliberating on my own thoughts. So, I write more for myself than for an audience — which is a helpful way of framing things, since I will probably never be a celebrated “great writer.” Accepting that writing is more for me than for reaching others, or being applauded by others, is a great way to keep me devoted to this beneficial activity. If I thought otherwise — for example, if I thought one should only write if they were exceptionally good at it, or only if they received popular praise for their work — then I would have quit long ago and lost the personal benefits that I gain from writing. Framing things in this way also keeps me authentic — it keeps me from trying too hard to fit into what I think other people want from a writer.

In this case, I found it helpful to write on the topic because I have been somewhat distressed by having to listen to people celebrate the violent death of another person. Given the nature of my professional work, I have mostly kept this to myself, but I wanted to be able to discuss how I feel and why I think this (people celebrating violence) is very concerning.

To briefly consider objections, I understand how some people might typically respond to my concern. They might mention other contemporary events that are more harmful in terms of a casualty count (the fallacy of relative privation — a fallacious appeal to “worse problems”), or they might appeal to specious utilitarian reasoning that argues that “hate speech” causes more harm than one death (operating on the false premise that Kirk engaged in hate speech, and assuming the conclusion that using violence to stifle hate speech is less net harmful than hate speech). I don’t intend to seriously consider these objections here, however, if anyone wanted me to expand on my parenthetical responses to these I could do that in the comments.

To return to my concern, I think celebrating any person’s death (outside of some extreme case circumstances) is possibly indicative of indoctrination with toxic ideology, or in some cases, psychopathology. On a human level, I can understand the urge or initial emotion of schadenfreude, relief, or even sadistic/vengeful satisfaction — but I consider these to be harmful impulses that are not in our, or society’s, best interest to assent to. An adaptive philosophy of life can instruct us on how to refrain from automatically reacting to initial thoughts, emotions, and other impulses, but instead to delay our reaction so that we are able to give critical consideration to whether these thoughts/impulses are rational or in-line with our values. (If you are interested in reading more about why I think toxic ideology is harmful to the individual and to society, and why adaptive philosophies of life are beneficial you can read my article on Helpful Philosophies of Life vs. Toxic Ideologies.)

Given how much of this sadistic celebration of Kirk’s death that I have witnessed in my personal life, my professional life, and in social media / on the news, I think there is prima facie justification to consider the possibility that toxic ideology is pervasive in our society and in the world.

This is an obvious concern because toxic ideology that compels individuals to violence could pose an existential threat to our species. We live in the age of weapons of mass destruction, and the same hateful ideology that would compel one individual to assassinate someone could compel another to engage in mass terrorism. In the worst case scenario this mass terrorism would involve the use of CBRN (chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear) weapons — we might also add electronic or cyber weapons to this list. Terrorist events are not likely to be existential threats in themselves, but they could plausibly contribute to instability and conflict that could escalate to regional and global levels. Even more concerning is the fact that in some cases we see the ruling factions of entire nations being corrupted by these toxic ideologies.

It is largely irrelevant, but in the spirit of full-disclosure, I should note that I did not agree with Charlie Kirk on many issues; from what I have seen of his videos I did not always like his approach to debating, but I mostly found him to be respectful and reasonable — certainly not the hate monger that many have painted him to be. As someone committed to philosophical investigation and discourse, I am opposed, in the strictest sense possible, to any attempt to stifle free expression, and any use of violence that is not legitimately last-resort defensive in nature.

In contrast to amoral or antisocial toxic ideologies that view acts of violence against “enemies” as a legitimate tool of change, an adaptive philosophy of life provides the individual with ethical, epistemic, and practical guidance. An adaptive philosophy of life serves to inoculate the individual against indoctrination or passively accepting erroneous or biased information, and it also inoculates against aggression by restricting the use of violence to only defensive or last resort situations. [Note: I wrote more on this here, on the Ataraxism website.]

My concern extends beyond the realm of pragmatic societal concerns, however. I am also concerned for the psychological wellbeing of people who celebrate violence — those who romanticize hate and anger and who hold onto hate and anger. When I encounter people that are stuck in this way of thinking (as I once was myself) I always think of the fifth century Buddhist scholar and monk Buddhaghosa’s parable on anger:

“By doing this you are like a man who wants to hit another and picks up a burning ember or excrement in his hand and so first burns himself or makes himself stink” (Visuddhimagga IX, 23).

When we hold onto anger or hate we are not only potentially harming others, we are also harming ourselves. This anger and hatred will come out in other areas of our lives and cause harm — it may come out in our relationships, in our general conduct and thinking, and it will cause us to suffer needlessly.

For me, the celebration of another person’s death is not simply tasteless, it reflects the deeper problem of toxic ideology at work in our culture — ideologies which embrace and celebrate anger and hate. While political, economic, and social factors all play a role in violence, I believe toxic ideology remains one of the most dangerous and corrosive forces we face, both for society and for the psychological wellbeing of individuals.

If nothing else, setting these thoughts to paper reminds me of why I write: not to impress others, but to clarify my own thinking and to resist the pull of anger, resentment, and despair. In this way, writing itself becomes an act of cultivating an adaptive philosophy of life — one grounded in reflection, compassion, and an effort toward understanding.

The Real Cause of Political Violence

2025-09-20 / Max Severin

Violence has always been a problem in human society. Political violence in particular is both a threat to stable society and, in the nuclear age, a possible low-level existential concern — since we know from historical example that it can lead to large-scale war between nations. In this essay I will argue that “toxic ideology” is one of the primary causes of political violence.

Photo by Mapping Memories Cambodia on Unsplash

Various explanations have been proposed to explain the human tendency for political violence and war. The most common explanatory hypotheses seem to be: human nature, socioeconomic conflict, and religion or ideology. [Note: Other, more minor hypotheses have been discussed, such as genetics, hormonal problems, pharmaceutical interventions, gun control issues, etc., but, for the sake of brevity, I will not consider these here.]

Considering the Hypotheses

Human nature. Violence appears deeply rooted in human nature. Primatologists like Richard Wrangham have extensively documented chimpanzee raiding and lethal aggression that resembles primitive warfare — suggesting that our evolutionary cousins share an innate capacity for organized violence. Human history itself testifies to a long and bloody record of conflict. And yet, there is also evidence that societies may have become less violent over time, at least in terms of large-scale warfare and homicide rates. Steven Pinker, in The Better Angels of Our Nature, argues that the long arc of history bends toward relative declines in violence, even if it never fully disappears. Whether one agrees with Pinker’s optimism or not, human nature alone does not explain the variations we see across different societies and eras.

Socioeconomic conflict. Another explanation for violence is socioeconomic struggle. Material deprivation, inequality, and exploitation create fertile ground for resentment and unrest. These conditions undergird political ideologies that promise radical transformation or retribution. Collectivistic movements, populist uprisings, and ethno-nationalist projects all draw strength from real or perceived economic grievances. Socioeconomic conditions are not the sole cause of violence, but they serve as fuel that ideological leaders can ignite.

Religion and ideology. While religious beliefs and ideologies have undeniably been used to justify or drive violence and war, it is not belief systems in themselves that cause violence. Rather, it is a certain type of belief — what I call toxic ideology. It is usually the combination of religion with toxic ideology — or the adoption of toxic ideology alone — that leads to cruelty and bloodshed.

Toxic Ideology as the Primary Driver of Political Violence

To understand what truly drives political violence, we must look beyond superficial or single-cause explanations, and our analysis must be multidimensional (that is, it must account for the complex interplay between the multiple factors involved). The multidimensional perspective I am proposing accepts that all of the above factors are a piece of the overall picture of causation, however, I argue that toxic ideology is one of the primary or leading causal factors, and the one we can most readily do something about.

At the heart of the issue is not simply belief, but the difference between adaptive (healthy on the psychological and sociological level) and toxic philosophies of life. An adaptive philosophy of life provides individuals with meaning, direction, and ethical grounding. It ideally contains three essential components (in a grounded or coherent form):

A metaphysics (a basic account of reality and our place in it),
An epistemology (a standard for deciding what counts as knowledge), and
A normative ethical theory (principles that guide action).

At the very least, an adaptive philosophy of life ought to contain a coherent and reasonably prosocial (neutral or beneficial to others/society) normative ethical theory and epistemic norms that contain mechanisms for error correction. Without this, people are left adrift and vulnerable to adopting maladaptive frameworks that confuse our thinking, justify cruelty, and erode human compassion. [Note: I wrote more extensively on adaptive philosophies of life vs. toxic ideologies here.]

By contrast, a toxic ideology operates like malware in the human mind. It often rests on unfalsifiable dogmas, fosters rigid black-and-white thinking, and rationalizes violence against outsiders. Toxic ideologies can be secular or religious, “Left-wing” or “Right-wing.” Toxic ideologies are dangerous because they promote a divisive and rigid us-against-them ethical framework, or because they lack an adaptive ethical framework altogether. Amoral toxic ideologies reject intersubjective principles of fairness and compassion and instead embrace the view that “the ends justify the means.”

Ethno-nationalist extremism (e.g., historical forms of fascism that engaged in mass killing), collectivistic extremism (e.g., historical forms of socialism or communism that engaged in mass killing), and certain extremist religious movements engaged in massive atrocities by adopting ends-justify-the-means thinking, and through mobilizing ressentiment, enforcing conformity, and dehumanizing opponents. Such systems do not merely fail to prevent violence — they sanctify it as a tool of purification, revenge, or revolution.

Seeing toxic ideology as one of the primary causes of political violence also challenges the common claim that “religion causes violence.” Religions (outside of those enforced by oppressive theocratic regimes, or new religious movements that haven’t been subjected to centuries-long selective processes that would filter out their most maladaptive elements ) are typically broad and flexible — they can be interpreted in adaptive or maladaptive ways. On the one hand, religious traditions often provide moral frameworks, rituals of compassion, and communal support that strengthen psychological and social well-being. On the other hand, when combined with toxic ideology — or absolutist certainty — religious belief can become divisive, a tool of oppression and violence. In the developed world, it is usually not religion itself, but religion plus toxic ideology, that generates the conditions for cruelty and violence.

Conclusion

If we want to understand — and ultimately reduce — human violence, we must learn to distinguish between adaptive and toxic philosophies of life. As Nietzsche warned, the “death of God” did not eliminate toxic dogmas but cleared the way for new, even more virulent secular ideologies to fill the void — often with catastrophic consequences. Conversely, as modern psychology suggests, adaptive frameworks grounded in rational inquiry, unconditional acceptance, and unconditional compassion can foster resilience, tolerance, and peace.

The problem of violence will likely never be solved — that is, until we transcend our current status quo biology — but it certainly will not be solved by abolishing religion, capitalism or through other simplistic and illusory solutions.

The use of violence proliferates when human beings, searching for meaning and stability, adopt toxic ideologies that confuse moral and general reasoning. The antidote is not dogmatic certainty but philosophical depth: coherent frameworks that integrate metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics in ways that promote humility, compassion, nuance, and balance / flexibility. Only by cultivating adaptive philosophies of life — whether secular or religious — can societies inoculate themselves against the malware of toxic ideology and the violence it engenders.

Helpful Philosophies of Life vs. Toxic Ideologies

2025-06-16 / Max Severin

A philosophy of life is essentially a cognitive framework — a set of principles that guide our thoughts and actions, and, in a less obvious way, our emotions. A coherent and adaptive (psychologically helpful) philosophy of life is critically important to the individual, and, through its distal effects, to society. In addition to providing individuals with ethical and practical guidance, it also helps a person to develop a sense of meaning, purpose, direction, and inspiration.

Additionally, a philosophy of life can foster a sense of connection to others who share similar values — serving as a source of identity and psychological stability. Without at least a rough working philosophy of life, individuals may find themselves adrift — lacking the direction needed to make wise decisions, endure hardship, and pursue self-actualization.

However, not all cognitive frameworks are equally beneficial. Some ideologies or religious systems may be “toxic” to the individual and to society as a whole — in a way that is analogous to how malware disrupts a computer system. Unfortunately, many people adopt toxic ideologies or toxic religious beliefs as their philosophy of life — to the detriment of themselves and society. We see this when people fall into extreme or rigid forms of religious or ideological belief. Often times toxic ideological views may be implicit — for example, a toxic subculture may not explicitly articulate its ideology, but rather signal it in various overt or subtle ways.

While every philosophy of life must rest upon certain “dogmas” or foundational axioms — as Sam Harris argued in one of his early debates with Jordan Peterson — “not all dogmas are equal.” Foundational axioms that are unfalsifiable, metaphysically complex, or disconnected from reason and evidence are more likely to support irrational or harmful conclusions. For example, dogmatic claims such as “divine revelation is the highest form of knowledge,” or “faith is superior to reason in matters of truth,” introduce untestable metaphysical assumptions that violate the principle of parsimony. Because these axioms are not grounded in evidence and logic, they resist revision and they tend to promote absolutistic or black-and-white thinking.

In contrast to these kinds of unfalsifiable or complex dogmas, a foundational axiom of Ataraxist philosophy of life (the philosophy of life I have been developing) holds that “Our understanding of the world is most likely to be accurate and useful when it is grounded in a rational, reliable way of analyzing the best available evidence.” This axiom is metaphysically simple, testable, and self-correcting.

I mentioned the example of dogmatic religion above, but I am not arguing that all religious belief is harmful; in fact, evidence supports the view that it is often beneficial on the individual level — likely because its helpful aspects outweigh its harmful ones, or because individuals adapt their religious beliefs to align with modern, near-consensus secular ethics or personal psychological needs. (Note: Whether a particular religion is adaptive on the individual level depends on a number of factors. The broader question of whether religion benefits society or geopolitical stability lies beyond the scope of this article.)

In addition to being rational and parsimonious, foundational axioms should ideally be helpful — that is, they should align with well-established principles of human flourishing, or at least be revisable in light of new evidence. At a minimum, an adaptive philosophy of life ought to contain a coherent and reasonably prosocial (neutral or beneficial to others/society) normative ethical code and epistemic norms that contain mechanisms for error correction, such as the principle: “No statement should be believed without justification in the form of sufficient evidence or sound reasoning.” This sort of epistemic standard engenders epistemic humility, and helps prevent ideological drift into rigidity, fanaticism, or harm. Put simply, an epistemology grounded in reliable ways of identifying and analyzing solid evidence innoculates the individual against toxic ideology; when a coherent and pro-social ethical code is added, the individual is highly immune to becoming indoctrinated with toxic ideology.

Many ideologies cannot be considered as helpful philosophies of life, either because they contain potentially harmful dogmas, and/or because they lack sufficient structure, in the form of an ethical code or epistemic principles, to guide behavior. Vague ideologies or value systems that emphasize goals without outlining a foundational theory or a rational means to achieve their stated goals are vulnerable to becoming toxic to individuals or society. For example, while feminism may aim for certain valuable goals, it does not, in itself, contain the philosophical foundations to ensure that the movement avoids misandry, and other forms of hatefulness and tribalism. The same could be said of any other goal-focused ideology that lacks a sound philosophical foundation. Similarly, many political and religious ideologies can devolve into hatefulness and promotion of harm if they lack foundational principles that promote reason and unconditional compassion.

Friedrich Nietzsche warned that the collapse of traditional religion — what he called the “death of God” — would leave a moral and spiritual vacuum that modern societies would rush to fill with new, secular ideologies. Without a sound ethical foundation, these ideologies risk becoming toxic secular religions: dogmatic systems that demand conformity and justify persecution.

Nietzsche developed the concept of ressentiment to describe a reactive cultural moral psychology rooted in perceived powerlessness — a festering envy that would engender a mob mentality hatred of those who hold power, or those who are perceived to hold power. Rather than bringing about a more just society, these ressentiment-based mass movements tend to engender a violent inversion of values and perceived power structures — where vengeful condemnation is directed at those who were seen as oppressors. Through the power of the State, the resentful masses enact their mass hatred. In Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche famously warned that “the State is the coldest of all cold monsters,” a new idol that claims to embody the will of the people while manipulating them through fear and false virtue. From the struggle sessions of Maoist China to the dogmatic and demagogic excesses of modern cancel culture, we see how social justice movements, which lack philosophical rigor and the restraint provided by a coherent ethical system, can devolve into campaigns of moral absolutism and terror — echoing the very religious zealotry they replaced. The catastrophic death tolls of fascist and communist regimes, driven by such ideological fervor, remain a haunting testament to Nietzsche’s prescience.

As Albert Ellis argued in The Road to Tolerance, a healthy philosophy of life should be grounded in unconditional self-acceptance, other-acceptance, and life-acceptance. These values are not simply moral ideals, but practical cognitive frameworks that promote psychological resilience and ethical conduct. A helpful philosophy of life is rational, self-correcting, empirically grounded, and conducive to human flourishing. Where existing philosophies of life fail to meet these criteria, we would be wise to revise or replace them — and if we are not satisfied with any existing philosophy of life, we may want to consider developing our own.

UAP and the Singularity—Tim Ventura Interviews

2025-06-13 / Max Severin

The Jesus Paradox

2023-08-14 / Max Severin

In the gospels we find in Jesus’ words and deeds some highly noble ethical precepts¹ and acts of beneficence, but also some of the most vile aspects of Judeo-Christian theology².

Jesus preached about the hypocrisy of rigid moralism and the importance of understanding and compassion in the story of the adultress³, but he also preached, in many instances, about eternal damnation, with vivid descriptions of never-ending torture, unquenchable flames, and gnashing of teeth.⁴

On the traditional religious view of Christianity this paradox is ultimately irreconcilable. In spite of the attempts of religious apologists and theologians, the idea of an all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful god cannot be reconciled with the conception of a universe where sentient beings not only suffer on Earth, but also, potentially, in an eternal hell realm, where the suffering is presumably much worse.

For non-believers the good of Christianity is usually discarded with the bad, unfortunately. (The good being the many admonishments in favor of understanding or forgiveness and against sanctimonious moralism; and that Christianity represented a progressive evolution of morals, a widening of the sphere of concern from the tribe to all persons—even those which you vehemently disagree with—which is best illustrated in the parable of the good Samaritan.)

A rationalist view that seeks to understand the genesis and importance of cultural myths circumvents the need to resolve this paradox. Such a view discards superstition and recognizes that myths are rarely wholly coherent. This view recognizes and preserves the good of Christian mythology, since it represents one of the most important shifts in Western morality—away from strict divine command moralism and toward compassionate humanism. In this view, the Biblical story of Jesus is mostly legendary, and it represents what we might call an archetype, in Jungian terms, rather than an accurate biography of a historical figure.

The symbolism of Jesus dying for humanity, a humanity that essentially votes to put him to death, is powerful, and it illustrates the perniciousness of sanctimonious groupthink—a social phenomenon which continues to inspire anger, hatred, persecution, and vindictive punishment in our time.

Our global society needs the example of Jesus more than ever—not the Jesus of religion, but the myth of the magnanimous and compassionate hero who forgave sinners and enemies, and criticized self-righteous dogmatists; the Jesus who, like Socrates, died in noble defiance of the hatred of the mob.

See the Parable of the Good Samaritan; Galatians 5:14; Luke 6:31.
This contrast is exemplified by Matthew 35:31–46; in this passage there is a beautiful and noble sentiment about taking care of “the least” of humanity (those without significant social status, those who are suffering the most), and then, in the latter part, Jesus is again discussing the hellfire that awaits the majority of humanity.
Incidentally, this passage is seen by most scholars as being an interpolation — a piece of text added to the original canon at a later date. However, it seems plausible that if Jesus existed as a historical person (rather than a purely legendary figure), which is debatable, then such a story is indicative of his character. Regardless, this has been incorporated as a fundamental part of the Jesus mythos.
Some Christians interpret these passages about Hell to be metaphorical, however, this interpretation does not seem plausible due to the fact that in many cases the language seems to imply literal meaning. For more on the metaphorical interpretation see the religious scholar Bart Ehrman’s work.

The Fallacy of IQ Obsessiveness

2023-06-12 / Max Severin

The Intelligence Quotient (IQ) — as measured by empirically studied and generally accepted tests (most commonly the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale or the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children) — is one of the most predictive psychometrics available. In psychological jargon we would say that bona fide IQ tests have predictive validity.

Nevertheless, we cannot say that IQ tests have construct validity — that is, we do not know that they truly measure “intelligence”, because we do not have an agreed upon theory or definition of intelligence.

What we can say is that IQ is positively correlated with success in other academic domains, academics in general — and to a lesser degree, with occupational placement in cognitively challenging fields, life expectancy, and income. It would therefore be more fitting to refer to IQ as an academic / life “success” quotient (where success is very narrowly defined).

One could argue that success in academics, or at least the ability to be successful in academics, is a necessary condition for our most intersubjective definitions of intelligence, however, there are flaws with this argument.

To be brief, the biggest flaw with the above argument is that intelligence is a multidimensional and amorphous concept. Even our intersubjective definitions may be missing something that is fundamental to a philosophically sophisticated definition of intelligence.

In order to arrive at a more precise and comprehensive definition of intelligence the meta-discourse must move beyond the operational definition of intelligence that is confined to narrow measures of success. For example, a comprehensive definition of intelligence might include other facets of cognition that are disregarded by currently accepted IQ tests (e.g., creativity, social / emotional cognition, practical intelligence, wisdom, kinesthetic intelligence, knowledge integration, epistemic rigor, etc.).

Another major problem with IQ obsessiveness is highlighted by a recent trend seen in counter-enlightenment circles: the mocking of so-called “midwits” — that is, those with average IQ scores.

The general idea here is that our most reflexive human instincts are actually wise. In the above example, the implicit argument goes like this:

Premise 1) People with below average IQs tend to oppose women’s rights.
Premise 2) People with average IQs tend to support women’s rights.
Premise 3) People with above average IQs do not support women’s rights. Conclusion: Therefore, primitive impulses are vindicated by higher order intelligence, and women should not have rights.

According to this line of thinking, it is the persons with average or just-barely-above-average IQ that are confused by their superficial understanding of things; if they were really smart they would understand that there is logic and wisdom in the instincts of those whose thinking is not clouded by the dogma of modern secular progressivism. (The general idea is that those who are smart enough to comprehend ideologies and basic facts — but are not smart enough to think critically and deeply about the world — are confounded by a dearth of knowledge or an inability to integrate knowledge, a lack of comprehension, or by their indoctrination.)

Another example:

Meme posted by connect_government_7 on Reddit

Here the poster is arguing that war is actually a noble endeavor, and that the war frenzy of those the “midwits” consider to be ignorant / stupid is actually wise.

There are a number of problems with the implicit arguments here, but first, I want to concede that there is a kernel of truth here, too. Yes, it seems that in many instances, those with a limited understanding do not recognize the wisdom of our evolved instincts, and instead are led astray by ideology or a merely superficial understanding. Nietzsche was making this claim when he stated, “There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy” (Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Part 1, Chapter 4).

However, it is not always the case that our evolved heuristics and impulses are wise, nor is it always the case that individuals with average IQs have only a superficial understanding. The above examples hint at some vague defense of non-meritocratic patriarchy and militaristic fascism, respectively. These are, of course, ideologies that we have prima facie reasons to be skeptical of, just based on their historical record — not to mention the fact that war is an existential threat to our species, and any romanticization of war only serves to bolster this existential risk. [Note: these are just implicit arguments hinted at by the limited symbolic content of the memes; a steelmanned version of these arguments might have more cogency, however, this has not been the case in my experience in online interactions with counter-enlightenment figures.]

These “midwit” memes also consistently commit the fallacy of assuming the conclusion. Is it really the case that most above average IQ individuals support war, oppose women’s rights, believe in God…or whatever else is being claimed? Out of all of the “midwit” memes that I have surveyed they are almost always false — in that, there is either not enough quality data to support their claims, or the data clearly contradict their claims (see Debunking the Meme: Theism and IQ). Likewise, some of the claims made about below average IQ individuals are also dubious.

Another assumed conclusion in these “midwit” memes is that individuals with high IQs have more veridical views or possess more practical or ethical wisdom than individuals with average IQs. While it is likely that a certain degree of g factor intelligence is a necessary condition for rationality or epistemic rigor, it is not clear that above average IQ entails more epistemic rigor in all cases. In other words, a certain amount of intelligence as measured by IQ (presumably, at least average) is a necessary condition for rationality, but intelligence greater than or equal to this level is not a sufficient condition for rationality.

Interestingly, there is some evidence which suggests that higher than average IQ is positively correlated with cluster A traits or cluster A personality disorders (schizotypal, schizoid, paranoid), which are characterized by delusional, eccentric, odd, and / or paranoid beliefs (no link; see Weinberger, Farmer & Keilp, 2002 in the Journal of Clinical Psychology). This data underscores the fact that rationality is sufficient for a certain level of intelligence, but not the other way around (i.e., this sufficient condition is not reciprocal — that is, it is not biconditional). This correlation suggests that neuro-psychological epistemic dysfunction affects a certain segment of the high IQ population (hypotheses that might warrant investigation: problems due to over-confidence; overactive pattern detection/threat detection; an inability to utilize other modes of cognition beyond the analytical mode).

The issue of practical or ethical wisdom and its relationship to IQ would require another article, however, I think a case can be made that high IQ and its positive correlation with autistic traits might result in a delay or impede the development of what is generally considered to be wisdom in some individuals. Nor does IQ account for things like intellectual curiousity, which is necessary for the development of broad crystalized intelligence.

Further, as is evidenced by religious apologetics, and other forms of sophistic lawyering, we sometimes see that a high IQ affords individuals with the ability to rationalize more effectively or to take pleasure in the contrarian challenge of “making the weaker argument stronger” — perhaps for practical or emotional reasons, in addition to the association between high IQ and an affinity for novelty. There are a number of personality factors and cognitive styles that influence whether one places epistemic justifications for belief over pragmatic justifications, and it isn’t entirely clear how these relate to general cognitive ability.

Overall, this is a pretty silly propaganda technique that wouldn’t deserve this much proverbial ink if it weren’t so common. A bit of comical irony is that truly high IQ individuals should be able to spot the shoddy reasoning involved in these memes, so it doesn’t seem that they are likely progenitors. [Note: even high IQ individuals with a problematic epistemology can usually spot simple logical errors readily, and because of this they would seem less likely to include basic logical fallacies in their arguments.]

In summary, the obsession with IQ is misguided, and narrow-minded. In my view, a better way to conceptualize intelligence might resemble personality taxonomies like the Big Five, where cognitive abilities are measured in various domains — including some of those currently ignored by accepted IQ tests — to render a cognitive profile. This approach would be more conducive to acceptance of a variety of cognitive styles, and foster greater sociological understanding and self-knowledge.

Schopenhauer on the Impossibility of Free Will

2023-06-11 / Max Severin

The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer said: “[M]an does at all times only what he wills, and yet he does this necessarily. But this is because he already is what he wills.” — Chapter 5, On the Freedom of the Will

Albert Einstein paraphrased Schopenhauer in his essay My View of the World (1931): “A man can do as he will, but not will as he will.”

As in falling dominoes, so in neurophysiology, every effect is preceded by some deterministic cause. Photo by Tom Wilson on Unsplash

What Schopenhauer meant is that we can do what we want to do, but we cannot choose (or will) what we want. In this sense, we are not free — that is, what we want is determined by our nature (our evolutionary programming, our genetics, the circumstances we were born into, etc.). [Note: Schopenhauer, who died the year after Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species (1859), conceived of our nature as being determined by a transcendental will to live, seek pleasure, and avoid pain.]

For example, if a person is hungry they may think that they are choosing to eat food, and that they are doing some freely willed action — that is, eating food because they wanted to do so; but they did not really choose to eat food, rather their determined / innate nature compelled them to eat food. And their genetics, their upbringing, the information they possess, and their environmental and material circumstances determined what type of food they would choose.

To break it down even more, the central nervous system has detected that glucose levels and stomach volume are getting low, causing the release of ghrelin (a hormone that plays a central role in the stimulation of appetite) from the stomach, which, in addition to other effects, causes the motivational state of hunger to manifest. These are automatic, unconscious processes which result in the person feeling like they are choosing to do something when they are really being compelled to do something.

Likewise, we may feel we have chosen to be attracted to a certain person due to a combination of their personality and physical/sexual traits, but this is not something we freely choose; rather, sexual attraction is determined by a combination of evolutionarily adaptive factors that are beyond our control.

Any example of a motivational state that we can think of can be explained in this manner, e.g., anger, thirst, jealousy, fear, disgust, etc. [Note: we can suppress things we want, like refusing food when we are hungry, but Schopenhauer would say that in this instance our character is such that this was not a choice; rather, our predisposition to asceticism or health consciousness (or whatever impulse caused us to refuse food) compelled us to refuse food. So, he would say that even when we override what our bodies initially tell us to do this is not a counter-example to his view. Rather, this would just be an example of a second order impulse overriding a basic, or first order, impulse.]

Schopenhauer’s conclusion was that we do not have free will in the way that most people think we do — that is, we do not freely choose to be the way that we are or do the things that we do. More specifically, Schopenhauer thought that our circumstances or situation (such as education / new information, change in resources or social environment, etc.) may change our behavior, but our character — our motivations, desires, or who we are on the inside — stays the same. Schopenhauer believed that we could override our often harmful nature (e.g., our egoistic desires), and live more peaceful and content lives, but that this required rigorous attention and philosophical contemplation. [Note: this would still not entail free will, but rather that we have taken on new “software” that results in different emotional and behavioral outcomes; the fact that we have taken on this new way of thinking was determined by our nature.]

Many other philosophers and scientists have found agreement with this deterministic view. By no means is it a fringe view.

That said, there is still disagreement within science and philosophy on the issue of free will (metaphysical libertarianism) vs. determinism. See: What do Philosophers Believe? (#7 on page 15).

Active Nihilism vs. Passive Nihilism

2023-05-17 / Max Severin

The distinction between active and passive nihilism comes from Friedrich Nietzsche. Nietzsche explores this concept in several of his works, including Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Beyond Good and Evil, Twilight of the Idols, and The Will to Power.

Nietzsche c. 1875, Wikimedia, Creative Commons Free License

Nietzsche saw that science and reason were destroying the traditional and religious forms of meaning and morality that sustained individuals and Western civilization in general. He saw this “death of God” as a necessary step in the moral evolution of humanity, but also as a great crisis that must be overcome. This crisis manifested as passive nihilism — a state of existential despair and anomie. Nietzsche was gravely concerned that if left unchecked, this crisis could destroy European civilization.

Passive nihilism, according to Nietzsche, is characterized by a sense of resignation, hopelessness, and the negation of life’s meaning. It arises when individuals confront the collapse of traditional meaning, values, beliefs, and morality, without offering alternative perspectives. Passive nihilism is marked by a disengagement from life, a sense of despair, and a loss of purpose — essentially, the denial of the will to live and the will to power.

For Nietzsche, the archetypal passive nihilist was his old respected professor, Arthur Schopenhauer, who adopted the Buddhistic view that denying the will to live was the path to liberation from suffering.

In contrast, Nietzsche describes active nihilism as a transformative response to the crisis of meaning — the will to power. Active nihilism, according to Nietzsche, involves a critical questioning of existing values and the courage to create new ones. It embraces the recognition of life’s inherent meaninglessness (existential nihilism), but sees it as an opportunity for self-empowerment and authenticity. Nietzsche argues that active nihilism can lead to the affirmation of life on one’s own terms and the creation of new values based on individual will and creativity.

I teach you the overman. Man is something that is to be surpassed. What
have ye done to surpass man? All beings hitherto have created something beyond themselves: and ye want to be the ebb of that great tide, and would rather go back to the beast than surpass man? — Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Zarathustra’s Prologue, #3

As an atheist and antitheist (with regard to belief in personal deities) Nietzsche did not desire a descent back into the superstition of the past. Instead, he responded to the problem of passive nihilism by advocating the creation of new values and alternative sources of meaning. In Nietzsche’s view, art plays a crucial role in this transformative process. He saw art as both a powerful means to bring down the edifice of society’s decaying values, and as a way to construct new ones that would replace them.