Liberation Vitalism
Amalgamating a makeshift metaphysics to edify in a self-evident ethics
Last month saw the passing of Gustavo Gutiérrez-Merino Díaz—one of the founders of liberation theology—at the age of 96. Rooted in the belief that the teachings of Jesus Christ call for social justice, particularly for the poor and oppressed, liberation theology developed in response to the massive inequality of Latin America in the 1960s and argues that faith should be a force for change, challenging the structures that perpetuate oppression, and that the Catholic Church must take an active role in the struggle for human dignity and justice. Accordingly, liberation theology emphasizes the need to address economic inequalities, political marginalization, and systemic injustice, advocating for the liberation of those living under exploitation and poverty.
Not much to argue with there, right? Not for the secular, anyway, though the frequently cited Jay Dyer criticizes it in a clip posted this past summer, arguing (at ~1:57 in the linked clip) that it represents an attempt by the Rockefellers to remove the miraculous and metaphysical elements of Christianity and turn it into a social gospel focused on oppressed groups rising up against their oppressors: a “religion of revolution,” I suppose, like how the analyst described Marxist socialism, as we covered last month. Similarly, the Church has at times viewed liberation theology with suspicion, fearing that it reduces the Gospels to an earthly agenda and adopted Marxist principles like class struggle and the messianic role of the proletariat. For that reason, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith issued letters in 1984 and 1986 warning against these pitfalls.
If you’ve been reading (or listening to, or watching) Radio Free Pizza for very long, you know that around here we’ve also adopted some Marxist principles. But not necessarily all of them: personally, instead of a strict materialism, I’ve always had a penchant for vitalism, the philosophical doctrine positing that living organisms are fundamentally different from inanimate matter due to the presence of a vital force or energy that cannot be explained by physical or chemical processes alone. According to (what I’ll call) classical vitalism, life is governed by this unique, non-material principle, which is responsible for the organization, growth, and functioning of living beings.
Of course, the reason I call it “classical” vitalism has nothing to do with its antiquity. I simply add the adjective because the aforementioned “vital force” or life-force stems from Henri Bergson’s Creative Evolution (1907), and it seems fair to me (from my long ago readings) to say that life-force is a poor translation of his élan vital, which to my recollection represents less a “force” and more a “spirit”—whether in a supernatural sense, or (my preference) in the sense of calling someone or something “spirited.”
Therefore, I’ll offer my own working definition for “modern” vitalism: living creatures are better and more important than robots, no matter how impressively engineered. The historicity of a living creature traced down through its genetic ancestors renders it inherently more valuable than the product of any factory.
Accordingly, a Liberation Vitalism would take this normative argument and extend it into a positive one: into an affirmation of the value of human life and a consequent mandate to address political and economic injustice.
The idea of combining the two occurred to me some time after seeing somewhere on Substack an issue of a newsletter that (as I recall) sought to dissuade those on “the dissident right” from advocating for any Christian vitalism because the writer estimated that attempting to reconcile these worldviews would simply drain this dissident right of its energies. I guess I didn’t know then that I’d read the admonition as a challenge, nor that the challenge would ring in my ears, so I didn’t think to save any link to that newsletter. (Though I don’t consider myself as at all belonging to the dissident right, I suppose the fact that I’ve since reacted in said manner suggests that I’m at least a dissident of some stripe.)
Potential candidates for that newsletter include the Center for Cultural Leadership’s CultureChange, in which the organization’s president, P. Andrew Sandlin, published his critique last year of the controversial book Bronze Age Mindset (2018) by the pseudonymous “Bronze Age Pervert” (BAP)—likely Costin Vlad Alamariu—and the associated BAM subculture. Naturally, the president of any organization believing “that culture should be Christian […] by spiritual conversion” would find something to critique about a book or subculture that idolizes ancient pagan values. Largely targeting young white males—something, I guess, like intrusive thoughts about the collapse of Ancient Rome—BAM glorifies a pagan revival centered on muscular, elite males who dominate society and reject modern values like equality, democracy, and Christianity. Though heavily influenced by Darwinian survivalism and Nietzschean existentialism, we should note that it seems at least as distinct from classical vitalism as my own proposal above.
(Maybe you’d think then that we would’ve been more familiar with BAM, given how often we feature Friedrich Nietzsche around here. Honestly, though, I believe my first introduction to it came from Rainer Shea’s interview with Garland Nixon in March, in which Shea names BAP alongside figures such as Elon Musk and Argentina’s Javier Milei who promote far-right ideologies, including ethnic nationalism and male chauvinism. These figures, he argues [at ~11:44 in the linked clip], are part of a strategy to divert right-wing libertarians from anti-imperialist or socialist ideas by downplaying class struggle in favor of ethnic nationalism and a return to traditional gender roles, while BAP’s alleged contacts with Israeli intelligence assets suggest that his ideology furthers a Zionist agenda by redirecting attention away from U.S. imperialism, creating a “controlled opposition” that aligns with capitalist and imperialist interests.)
BAM’s followers, Sandlin tells us, aspire to create a hierarchical ethno-state, viewing modern Western civilization as degenerate, largely due to feminism. They see the “Bronze Age Males” as superior beings focused on physical beauty, strength, and domination over “inferiors.” The movement also rejects Christian teachings, framing Christ and the Bible as myths, and embracing a materialist, pagan worldview. But Sandlin argues that BAM’s influence has seeped into parts of conservative Christianity, inspiring movements like “Christian vitalism” attempting to fuse BAM’s masculine ideals with Christian faith. However, Sandlin warns this is a dangerous syncretism that compromises biblical teachings—similar, I suppose, to the aforementioned criticisms of liberation theology from the Congregation of the Doctrine of Faith—and advocates (of course) for a return to biblical wisdom, particularly the teachings in Proverbs, while urging young men to seek godliness over physical prowess.
John Ehrett pursued his own critique of BAM in American Reformer in the spring of last year, exploring the subculture’s rise as a new vitalist movement within right-wing circles. Though vitalism has been traditionally rooted in philosophical ideas emphasizing the force of life, Ehrett covers the school of thought’s revival as a countercultural movement that rejects both liberalism and religious conservatism, and seeks to recover a primordial, chaotic way of life that values strength, glory, and ancient pagan ideals over modern social norms and promotes a return to a pre-Christian, premodern ethos. Because of its subversive tone and crude language, Ehrett tells us, BAM has gained popularity among alienated young men, reflecting a deep discontent with current political and cultural values. Meanwhile, he suggests that traditional critiques of BAM fall short because they fail to engage with its Nietzschean foundation, arguing that any meaningful response must meet it on the creative and existential terms it presents.
In his efforts to supply such a meaningful response, Ehrett draws on examples from 20th- and 21st-century American literature to argue that attempts like that of BAM to embrace a premodern ethos lead to inevitable guilt, stemming from the inability of those in the modern West to fully escape a Judeo-Christian moral framework, despite their desire to live according to ancient Greek values. Those who pursue such desires succumb instead to modern guilt and moral confusion, and ultimately find in them no true escape from the metaphysical terror of mortality.
No matter how much contemporary vitalists attempt to reclaim ancient ways of thinking, Ehrett asserts, they cannot escape the conditioning of the Judeo-Christian tradition. This tradition permanently altered human consciousness, and it is impossible to return to a premodern mindset unburdened by the knowledge of guilt and mortality. Thus, attempts to resurrect ancient values or ideals are futile, as they can only ever be understood through the lens of modern historical and religious conditioning.
Interestingly, the aforementioned Sandlin specifically cites a response to Ehrett that Christian Winter published in the same outlet a month later. Here, Winter argues that while Ehrett highlights the centrality of Christianity in history, he does not fully address why young men are drawn to vitalism, with its calls to return to nature and human excellence: as Winter explains, vitalists prioritize life and natural flourishing, advocating for a return to ancient ideals of human strength and hierarchy. Nietzsche—a key influence on BAM—is seen as a proponent of life-affirming values that reject modern egalitarianism, which they view as stifling ambition and natural order. BAP and Nietzsche both critique modern civilization, not for its destruction, but for creating an unnatural, stifling environment that denies men the opportunity to achieve greatness.
Winter suggests that a Christian response must not dismiss these concerns but offer a superior vision of life, where true flourishing is found in Christianity. He therefore advocates for the “Christian vitalism” over which Sandlin raised such alarm above, wherein Christian men exemplify natural greatness, hierarchy, and leadership, showing young men that Christianity can lead to a more fulfilling life than Nietzschean philosophy. He concludes that Christianity—properly understood—unites both life and truth in the person of Christ, making it the ultimate response to the vitalists’ critique of modern society.
He’s not alone here: the mononymous Parker, creator of @ChivalryGuild on Twitter, spoke about his own vision of Christian vitalism on Justin Murphy’s Other Life in January 2022.
Parker reveals the inspiration he found in C.S. Lewis’ “The Necessity of Chivalry” (1940)—which defines chivalry as embodying both courtesy and ferocity—and how, feeling surprised to find an absence of modern voices popularizing these ideas, he decided to fill that gap and supply his thoughts on the six essential chivalric virtues he has identified: prowess, courtesy, honor, generosity, loyalty, and faith.
The conversation turns (at ~23:38) to how chivalric ideals can counteract negative effects of modern life on masculinity. Parker argues that Christianity does not necessitate being meek or weak—tracing the word rendered in modern translations of the Gospels as “meek” to an Ancient Greek one for the demeanor of warhorses that we here at Radio Free Pizza might prefer to translate as something like “obedient and disciplined”—but rather encourages physical vigor and embodying principles through one’s appearance and actions. He cites examples like the boxer Alexander Usyk as modern paragons of chivalry. Murphy then reflects on how the demands of building a business can lead to what he calls “bug man” tendencies, and appreciates chivalry as an antidote for the negative effects of modern industrialism, consumerism, and corporate culture on masculinity.
If we’re working from Parker’s definition, then “Christian vitalism” sounds pretty good to me. But there’s a problem with my thinking above about tracing my first introduction to Christian vitalism to the aforementioned Sandlin: his article doesn’t use the term “dissident right.” Accordingly, I think Untimely Sense is a more likely candidate for the newsletter that first brought Christian vitalism to my attention, with its April review of a debate between Benjamin Braddock and the pseudonymous Kruptos over the compatibility of Christianity and vitalism published in “the Dissident Right magazine” IM1776.
The debate predictably centers on whether vitalism—which emphasizes earthly vitality and strength—can align with Christian values, which often focus on humility, subjugation to divine will, and spiritual salvation over physical prowess. Kruptos argues that Christianity inherently rejects vitalism, as the Christian message revolves around transcending the physical world and its desires, rather than indulging in them. Braddock, on the other hand, attempts to reconcile the two, suggesting that parts of the Bible—especially the Old Testament—critique earthly power structures, which might align with contemporary vitalist criticisms of modern civilization.
The anonymous writer behind Untimely Sense sees the debate as evidence of a growing tension on the political right between traditional Christian values and vitalist philosophy—which prioritizes physical excellence, health, and the cultivation of human vitality—with the latter viewed as a revival of pre-Christian, Greco-Roman ideals. Ultimately, the writer argues that Christianity and vitalism are fundamentally incompatible due to their differing perspectives on the body and the natural world.
Doubtless he’s not alone: in fact, among those standing with him we’d surely find René Noël Théophile Girard, the French-American historian, anthropologist, and literary critic, whose work represents some of the most innovative of modern Christian apologetics, offering a novel lens through which to interpret human behavior and society grounded in biblical narratives. He argued that human desire is imitative, meaning that individuals often desire things simply because others do—a concept he termed “mimetic desire.” This often leads to rivalries that escalate into conflict and violence, a cycle Girard saw interrupted by the example of Jesus Christ, whose teachings and personal sacrifice expose and dismantle the violent patterns of human societies. Girard therefore argues that the Bible uniquely reveals the human propensity for scapegoating and offers a divine antidote through the message of forgiveness, compassion, and non-violence. This perspective has positioned Girard as a bridge between modern social science and Christian theology, offering an intellectual defense of Christian beliefs through the study of human nature.
It should surprise no one, therefore, that Girard took careful aim at the same German philosopher who so deeply influenced BAM. For a detailed review of Girard’s criticisms of Nietzsche we can turn (once again) to Keegan Kjeldsen, who covered the Frenchman’s critique on The Nietzsche Podcast last March.
Here Kjeldsen analyzes Girard’s essay “Dionysus versus the Crucified” (1984) and its critique of Nietzsche’s philosophy. Kjeldsen begins by explaining Nietzsche’s view of the ancient Greek civilization and its “tragic outlook” on life, which embraced suffering and violence as part of the natural order—with Dionysus (whom Zeus sired in infidelity, and whom the jealous Hera fed to the Titans before his resurrection through Zeus and Athena’s efforts) serving as the philosopher’s champion figure for illustrating that life-affirming outlook. In Nietzsche’s estimation, the morality of European antiquity more fully affirmed life than the Christianity that supplanted it. In fact, the title of Girard’s essay comes from the unfinished manuscript to Nietzsche’s planned The Will to Power, where he puts the tension between these outlooks well:
Dionysus versus the “Crucified”: there you have the antithesis. It is not a difference in regard to their martyrdom—it is a difference in the meaning of it. Life itself, its eternal fruitfulness and recurrence, creates torment, destruction, the will to annihilation. In the other case, suffering—the “Crucified as the innocent one”—counts as an objection to this life, as a formula to its condemnation.
The Christian worldview, which condemns violence and stands on the side of the innocent victim, therefore becomes for Nietzsche a life-negating perspective for its refusal to accept tragedy as an essential component of life. In contrast, Kjeldsen then introduces (at ~9:48–10:55) Girard’s own response:
Girard does not take issue with that framing. He wholly agrees, “Yes, this is the situation. Christianity was a unique religion that arose to defeat the use of violence to sustain culture.” But Girard wholeheartedly throws in his lot with the crucified. His criticism of modernity is not that it is too Christian or still driven by Christian values, rather that modernity has insufficiently carried out the revaluation of values demanded by Christianity: that Christianity wounded vengeance, but was unable to fully destroy it. Fundamentally, the choice is between the human world of culture, which is inherently violent, and the worldview that idealizes the otherworldly and attempts to transcend all violence in the name of it. This is Gerard’s rather unique stance on Nietzsche from a critical perspective: he fully signs on with all of Nietzsche’s descriptive assessments, but comes to a fundamentally opposed conclusion as regards Nietzsche’s prescriptive conclusions.
Kjeldsen goes on (at ~18:36) to introduce Girard’s aforementioned concept of mimetic desire, through the lens of which our own desires result from imitating the desires of others. This leads to conflict and violence over limited resources, leading to conflicts which (Girard argues) human societies have historically resolved through the “scapegoating” process, where collective violence is directed towards an innocent victim to restore social cohesion.
That scapegoating process, of course, leads to Jesus’ crucifixion in the Gospels. For that reason, Girard sees Christianity as a unique religion that exposes and condemns the scapegoating process, by presenting Jesus as the ultimate innocent victim. This, of course, sets the stage (at ~1:12:58–1:19:45) for Kjeldsen’s exploration of Girard’s defense of Christianity against Nietzsche’s critique, with Girard finding Nietzsche “resentful of [the] resentment” that the philosopher saw resulting from Christian morality’s substitution of internalized resentment for open vengeance. Girard believes Nietzsche’s struggle against modernity and resentment stems from Nietzsche’s unresolved inner conflict with Christian and Dionysian impulses, particularly Christianity’s role in curbing collective violence. Girard, however, sees this internalization as a positive shift, reducing societal violence and ritual victimization. Nietzsche’s critique of modern values, Girard claims, is detached from the reality of societies shaped by violence, a privilege afforded by living in a Christian-influenced era. Although Girard respects Nietzsche’s intellectual commitment, he ultimately rejects the philosopher and the Dionysian ideals he promotes for disregarding Christian ethics, which Girard sees as leading to spiritual desolation.
Kjeldsen also details (at ~1:21:25–1:31:49) the curious correspondence between Girard’s own ideas and those expressed in Nietzsche’s famous formulation that “God is dead,” which Girard interprets as referencing a symbolic ritual violence enacted by society. Girard notes that Nietzsche’s madman implies this was a collective act, dismissed by the “people of the marketplace” in Thus Spoke Zarathurstra (1883), who all ignore the significance of this shared guilt. As Kjeldsen explains, Nietzsche’s argument here aligns with Girard’s theories that gods in various cultures are often created through mythologizing the ritual sacrifices of victims, who are later deified as a means of social cohesion.
While the Frenchman believes that Nietzsche failed to recognize this pattern as an ancient, recurring element of human psychology and culture (as seen through ritualized scapegoating), he suggests that the philosopher nonetheless recognized society’s tendency to obscure the violent origins of culture by either rejecting or enshrining these disturbing truths, though he failed to fully grasp its implications and remained trapped in the cycle of resentment and justification of violence. In contrast, Girard presents Christianity as the only way to break free from the cycle of violence that has defined human culture throughout history. By embracing the radical innocence of the victim and rejecting the scapegoating process, he argues that Christianity offers a path to transcend the violence that has been perpetuated throughout human history via society and religion by embracing the radical innocence of the victim and rejecting the scapegoating process that has defined human culture throughout history.
Throughout the episode, Kjeldsen expresses his appreciation for Girard’s nuanced critique, and offers little if anything in the way of refuting it. But for the sake of our own scholarly rigor, we should note that others from our frequently cited sources offer their own criticisms of the Frenchman’s philosophy: specifically, Darren Allen, who discussed Girard’s mimetic desire this past July. While Allen acknowledges the intuitive accuracy of Girard’s insights on how desire fosters rivalry and social conflict, he argues that Girard’s focus on socially competitive, “fallen” societies neglects the desires of simpler, premodern cultures, wherein sacrificial rituals may not dominate. Further, he suggests that mimetic desire fails to account for deeper, self-directed desires that emerge beyond mere social mimicry or ego-driven acquisition, such as an artist’s personal drive to create or individual pursuits that resist societal pressures.
Instead, Allen proposes that true human desire has both selfish and selfless dimensions, with only the former fitting into Girard’s mimetic model. For him, selfless desires arise from unique, personal impulses become transcendent and more genuine expressions of individuality—something that Girard’s theory does not adequately capture.
Not unexpectedly, given the religion’s immense historical influence, Allen also has something to say about Christianity, which he offered in two parts at the end of last month. In the first (“I’ve Never Met a Christian”) he claims to have never encountered a true follower of Christ, only people he calls “Paulians” who adhere to the doctrines promoted by Paul and other New Testament writers, such as submission to authority and belief in Christ’s sacrificial death, rather than strictly following Jesus’ teachings. Allen points out that while Jesus preached radical selflessness—like giving up possessions, loving enemies, and embracing childlike humility—most Christians seem more interested in a comfortable, simplified version of faith, much though this softer, more conventional approach falls short of the challenging and transformative path Jesus advocated.
In the second (“We Are All Christians”) Allen acknowledges that all people in the West are inherently influenced by Christianity, even if they identify otherwise. He claims that Christianity, as Girard suggests, introduced core concepts to Western thinking—such as individual freedom and sensitivity to innocent victims—that shaped Western culture and values. Despite the ways institutional Christianity has deviated from its origins, Allen sees the tradition as foundational, providing the very tools of self-critique now often used against it. To reject Christianity, he contends, is to reject the roots of Western culture itself, and therefore to risk losing its foundational depth and coherence.
Indeed, the apparent contradiction that Allen identifies—of having never met a Christian in a society composed entirely of Christians—may account for some unexpected overlap between even Nietzsche’s thinking and Christianity. For example, an email of Allen’s to his subscribers (received prior to the subscription’s renewal) quoted from the same unpublished Will to Power from which Girard drew the title of his critical essay: “To those human beings who are of any concern to me I wish suffering [...] I wish them the only thing that can prove today whether one is worth anything or not—that one endures.”
Compare that to James 1:2–3: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds [...] the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” Surely you see how both value suffering and trials as the context in which a subject discovers their own capacity to endure and persevere.
Of course, though both Nietzsche and James commend this virtuous capacity to abide with tribulations, their respective esteems lay with different values—with adherence to one’s own will, in Nietzsche’s case, and to belief in the divinity of Christ and his teachings in James’s. Certainly their different orientations evidence the increasing incoherence of Western culture that Nietzsche himself sought to address in the 1800s, and which has only intensified in the new millennium.
Might this loss of Western cultural coherence account for the crisis of masculinity to which discussions of Christian vitalism so often refer? I imagine so, yes—but I doubt that such a crisis is restricted only to masculinity. Instead, I believe it’s merely one symptom of the broader “metacrisis” that Dr. Iain McGilchrist, Dr. Daniel Schmachtenberger, and Dr. John Vervaeke—whose backgrounds span psychiatry, technology ethics, and spiritual philosophy—gathered to discuss last December.
The participants begin with an introduction to their core frameworks on the human condition and psychological factors influencing global issues: McGilchrist outlines the differences between left- and right-brain orientations toward attention, values and worldviews; Vervaeke details the loss of meaning, wisdom traditions, and practices to overcome self-deception; and Schmachtenberger ties these to game theory, technology, and incentives. Together they analyze how power-oriented mindsets have come to dominate modern societies through economic systems, technological developments, and political structures, while the loss of wisdom traditions and practices has exacerbated self-deceptive tendencies, driving the competitive dynamics which have caused global crises for the lack of any connection to the sacred.
In particular, McGilchrist identifies (at ~45:45–48:13) the modern decoupling of “purpose,” “value,” and “meaning” as one consequence of the lost connection:
And then there are just a couple of other things that I want to pick up […] one is about purpose and its nature and the other is about values and meaning […] It’s very important to make a distinction […] between what I call extrinsic purpose and intrinsic purpose. An example of extrinsic purpose is a photocopier. Its purpose is it was created to copy a sheet of paper and make another image. But [an intrinsic purpose] doesn’t lie outside itself but in itself they are in themselves purposeful. Actually I believe that prayer is of this kind, it’s in itself valuable, not because it produces a result, but also very obviously things like music and dance are not pointless […] No, they have value in themselves. And the last thing I just wanted to raise […] is that very often people, you said that we need meaning and we need to be directed and I believe that values are things that draw us from in front rather than push us from behind, and purpose also beckons to us from in front and draws us forward. And of course all our models are pushed from behind because they’re mechanical but very importantly these things exist (as it were) at the same time as our striving towards them, and actually cause us to strive towards them not by pushing us but by calling to us, evoking a response […] We don’t have to sort of cheer ourselves up by painting pretty pictures on the walls of a hermetically sealed cell […] we are contacting something which is real, and I actually think that those values and purpose are essential to the cosmos. They’re not things we made up.
In short, McGilchrist argues that values aren’t simply human constructs to bring meaning to a meaningless universe. Instead, he proposes that these values and purposes are inherent in the cosmos, and that our contemporary crises stem from our civilization’s failure to recognize them as such.
Discussing how to redress that failure, McGilchrist and his interlocutors go on to detail the limitations of current institutional structures (excessively oriented toward left-hemisphere specialized knowledge) in popularizing the importance of cultivating wisdom practices and in establishing individual and communal connections to the sacred. Only such a connection, they argue, can renew our civilization’s capacity for flourishing, help it to anchor alternative motivations beyond utility and power, and to steward exponentially growing technological powers like AI and synthetic biology that could cause civilizational catastrophe. For McGilchrist, it seems (at ~2:30:49–2:34:03), meeting the need to do so might even fulfill a kind of divine mandate:
Maybe we play a role in the development, the evolution, the furtherment, the fulfillment of whatever is divine. And if that’s the case, then once again, we have an incredibly ennobling obligation, which is to make sure that we do help that good progress in the world. […] Part of what is imaged here is that we, like it or not, are gathered up into something that we have to respond to. And I believe that the reason for there being life at all, and especially human life, is because whatever it is […] the ground of being [the divine] needs response […] And while it can be satisfied by the response of the inanimate world up to a point, what life brings—because I believe all life is sacred, but also the inanimate is sacred as well—the difference is not that one suddenly is involved with consciousness and the other isn’t. I think they’re both manifestations of consciousness. But the thing about life is that it can respond enormously much faster and to a greater extent, so that things can move instead of having to wait for this very slow, slow process. With creatures like us, there can be an acceleration of the evolution of the cosmos and the divine being that grounds that cosmos together. […] And if I’m honest about my thinking, my reading, my experience of life as a person, as a doctor and so on, I do believe that this is the way the cosmos is and how we relate to it. And that is surely something that brings hope, brings dignity to the human condition. And it also takes the burden off us of having to solve certain specific problems. I'm not saying we shouldn’t try to solve those specific problems: we must. But it’s in a sense secondary. It’s like the role of [humanity] is to get on and find ways of, you know, purifying the oceans. This is terribly important, but it mustn’t stop there because, as I say, you could purify the oceans, you could save the rainforest. And the only reason we did that was because of our own economy and for our own flourishing. We would have lost the main reason, which is because these things are powerful, beautiful, rich, complex entities that have their value in themselves. They are intrinsic in their nature, not of extrinsic use to us.
While humans may not control specific events, our ability to respond to the “ground of being” gives purpose to life, accelerating cosmic and spiritual evolution. This view brings hope and dignity to human existence, valuing both inanimate material and animate life as sacred—though (of course) with a vitalistic preference for the latter. Practical efforts, like environmental restoration, remain important, but we shouldn’t undertake them just for human benefit; rather, such efforts honor the intrinsic worth of the natural world, which exists meaningfully in itself.
In the interest of reestablishing humanity’s connection to the sacred, the trio advocates for transitioning to localized communities that “garden” wisdom practices rooted in unique contexts and intimate relationships beyond impersonal technocratic systems that narrow consciousness. They also explore approaches (such as integrating elements of Eastern philosophies like Zen and Vedanta with Western traditions to develop a “global wisdom grammar”) for organizations like universities, governments, and churches to concretely implement wisdom cultivation through transformed education, policy, and religious practices focused on community, ecology and everyday living.
These, then, are the trio’s early notes toward a prescription for addressing the global “metacrisis.” This, we should hasten to add, isn’t the same as the polycrisis that the international ruling class has promoted in recent years, and on which the estimable James Corbett supplied much detail in June: that is to say, rather than referring to a constellation of mutually amplifying global crises that technocratic imperialists use to advance their own agenda, the metacrisis represents the individual and collective psychological framework that drives this polycrisis forward. Of course, only the latter term has so far gained traction through institutions like the World Economic Forum (WEF), suggesting a strategy to exploit widespread anxiety and normalize chaos, which primes the public to accept government interventions such as Universal Basic Income (UBI) and increased surveillance. Corbett argues that these responses, though framed as solutions, act as mechanisms for consolidating control, thus advancing the elites’ goal of centralized power under the guise of crisis management.
Accordingly, the Liberation Vitalism we’ve been synthesizing here would aim to address the mass psychological metacrisis while serving as a philosophical framework to emancipate humanity from the mechanisms of technocratic imperialism that the WEF and other institutions of international fascism seek to implement for the sake of resolving their systemically engineered polycrisis. From our exploration today, the principles of a Liberation Vitalism and the virtues it celebrates might run something like the following:
Dignity and Intrinsic Value of Life: Affirming that all human life and nature possess inherent worth, advocating for structures and practices that honor the value of life itself, enabling individual and communal well-being beyond purely utilitarian purposes.
Autonomy and Self-Directed Desire: Embracing personal impulses and authentic desires that transcend societal or material pressures, celebrating individuality, creativity, and unique expressions of the human spirit.
Social Justice and Liberation from Oppression: Upholding a commitment to addressing systemic inequalities, exploitation, and economic oppression, and fostering environments that empower individuals and communities toward liberation and political equality.
Sacredness of Suffering and Strength in Endurance: Recognizing suffering as a meaningful aspect of life’s journey, valuing resilience, personal growth, and moral courage in the face of life’s challenges as pathways to greater strength and authenticity.
Strength through Compassion and Moral Prowess: Defining true strength as disciplined resilience guided by compassion, balancing physical vitality with moral integrity, inspired by values of courtesy, honor, and responsibility.
Community and Wisdom Cultivation: Encouraging cooperative, empathetic communities rooted in local wisdom practices and meaningful connections, moving beyond competition and fostering interdependence and shared purpose.
Spiritual Resistance to Dehumanization: Rejecting modern industrialism and materialism that reduce human life to utility, upholding a life-affirming ethos that celebrates humanity’s sacred and spirited qualities.
Personal and Collective Flourishing Beyond Power and Control: Shifting motivations from dominance and accumulation to ethical interdependence, emphasizing mutual flourishing and the enrichment of collective experiences.
Purposeful Engagement and Spiritual Evolution: Embracing a sense of cosmic purpose that calls for responsive, purposeful action to foster spiritual evolution and contribute to a broader existential framework that respects life’s sacred dimensions.
Pursuit of True Freedom and Authentic Life: Encouraging liberation from economic and societal constraints, advocating for an authentic life in alignment with one’s true self and community autonomy.
These tenets would form the bedrock of a Liberation Vitalism that upholds the dignity and flourishing of all people, embracing a vigorous, compassionate engagement with life’s challenges while confronting structures of oppression and dehumanization. Such guiding principles would aid human civilization in addressing both personal and societal challenges while fostering a vision of human life rooted in sacred connection, personal resilience, and authentic individuality.
We should note, of course, that our investigation here does nothing to resolve the dilemma that liberation theology poses for Christians. That said, we would hasten then to remind Christians of another passage (2:14–24) from the same Epistle of James cited earlier:
What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? […] Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. […] Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. […] You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. […] You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.
Accordingly, we suggest that our Christian brothers and sisters should not too strongly oppose any secular philosophy that aims to encourage relief for those suffering from exploitation and oppression as a result of their nation’s political economy. Instead, we hope that Christians would view it as a bridge across which to meet the unbelievers, and on which to collaborate with them in undertaking the deeds that prove their faith.
With the (provisional) principles outlined above, our Liberation Vitalism aims to offer a holistic response to the deep-seated ideological and existential challenges of our time by integrating the compassion-centered justice of liberation theology with a renewed, life-affirming vitalism. Rooted in the intrinsic worth of human life, this philosophy advocates for personal resilience, moral courage, and community enrichment over power and dominance, proposing a path beyond the polarities of nihilism and despair. It calls for a balanced strength, one that honors human dignity and vitality without succumbing to artificial hierarchies or competitive pressures. In doing so, Liberation Vitalism works to bridge the divide between Christian transcendence and Nietzschean engagement with life’s struggles, forging a vision that respects both spiritual depth as well as the responsive vitality of human existence.
Against the backdrop of a civilization increasingly defined by a technocratic utilitarianism, Liberation Vitalism resists reductionist forces by emphasizing authentic connection, community wisdom, and respect for nature’s sacred purpose. This approach rejects mere crisis management in favor of a meaningful transformation toward spiritual and societal flourishing. By drawing on a synthesis of Christian, vitalist, and diverse wisdom traditions, Liberation Vitalism invites humanity to pursue a sacred, purposeful engagement with the cosmos and each other, envisioning a civilization grounded in dignity, resilience, and interconnected well-being. In this way, it offers (we hope) a vision for a future that’s both spiritually profound and materially sustainable, and for a world in which justice, vitality, and shared purpose coexist—contrary to, and regardless of, the aims of modern civilization’s ruling class and its fascist globalism, from which (we believe) humanity must be delivered.