Thiel and Peterson on Stagnation, AI, and Culture

He identifies 1970 as a critical inflection point, after which innovation in these physical sciences plateaued compared to preceding decades. This stagnation contrasts sharply with the rapid advancements observed in the "world of bits," such as software and the internet, where progress has continued unabated. Thiel emphasizes the difficulty of comparing progress across diverse fields, acknowledging the complex measurement problems in evaluating breakthroughs in areas like AI versus the lack of progress in curing diseases like Alzheimer's.

Recalling his experience as a Stanford undergraduate in 1989, Peter Thiel revealed that computer science was once considered a marginal academic pursuit. He described it as a fallback for students who struggled with more rigorous mathematical, physical, or electrical engineering disciplines. Despite this initial perception as a field for those "too dumb at math," Thiel acknowledged the surprising trajectory of computer science, which ultimately became a driving force behind major cultural and social transformations. This historical perspective highlights the unexpected evolution of a field that, despite its humble beginnings, would come to define much of modern technological progress.

Peter Thiel asserts that economic well-being serves as a tangible metric to challenge the narrative of continuous societal progress. He argues that for the first time in recent history, the millennial generation in the United States is, in many respects, not achieving the same level of economic success as their baby boomer parents. Thiel identifies this as a unique period of economic stagnation, or even outright decline, marking a departure from previous generations who typically surpassed their predecessors materially. He suggests that focusing on material well-being provides a more straightforward and less abstract measure of progress than relying solely on technological advancements or hype.

He posits that the shift from ambitious outer space exploration to a focus on "inner space" exploration, epitomized by the rising 'hippie' movement, signaled the end of aggressive scientific and technological advancement. Thiel views this cultural transition as a core factor contributing to societal stagnation, arguing that the nation's focus shifted away from external achievements towards internal and cultural pursuits.

He explains that traditional Marxism was primarily concerned with objective, external, material, and economic realities. In contrast, cultural Marxism represents a shift towards internal, psychological, and subjective worlds, a transition he likens to the societal move from the Apollo era's outward focus to Woodstock's inward orientation. This distinction highlights Thiel's view on how ideological frameworks have evolved, moving from an emphasis on tangible economic structures to a focus on cultural and individual consciousness.

Following the World Wars and the development of nuclear weapons, which he describes as the culmination of the Baconian science project, society became increasingly wary of technological advancement. This fear led to a societal shift from actively pursuing change and progress to prioritizing a state of stasis, aimed at avoiding potential apocalyptic outcomes. The inherent risk associated with powerful technologies, Thiel argues, fostered a collective caution that ultimately slowed innovation.

Thiel points to drone technology in the Russia-Ukraine war as a current example, suggesting that the logical next step is to replace human involvement in these systems with AI, making them more autonomous. He sees this development as an inevitable progression, driven by the desire to overcome human limitations in combat situations, such as human error or jamming. Despite his general pro-tech stance, Thiel admits that he finds the prospect of fully autonomous weapon systems deeply unsettling, acknowledging the inherent dangers and ethical dilemmas they present.

He references figures like Benjamin Franklin, who pursued goals such as indefinite life extension, illustrating a broader movement that often carried an anti-biblical valence. This project sought to replace traditional religious frameworks with material progress and human-driven innovation, aiming to achieve salvation or betterment through scientific and technological means rather than spiritual ones. Thiel characterizes this era as a concerted effort to establish an alternative pathway to a utopian existence, entirely independent of God.

He asserts that before any scientific game begins, there are inherent assumptions at play. For instance, science presumes that the cosmos is fundamentally intelligible to the human mind, implying an underlying order that can be understood and deciphered. Additionally, the pursuit of knowledge is often based on the presupposition that knowledge is inherently 'good' or beneficial. Peterson argues that these foundational beliefs serve as metaphysical presuppositions that exist prior to and enable the entire scientific process.

Peter Thiel presents a Girardian perspective on the emergence of science, suggesting it arose from the societal rejection of human scapegoating. He explains that witchcraft trials, for example, eventually ceased when societies collectively realized they were falsely blaming and persecuting innocent individuals. This realization, that "witches are innocent or are relatively innocent," forced a profound shift. Societies were compelled to discipline themselves and seek natural explanations for phenomena previously attributed to scapegoated individuals. Thiel argues that scientific methodology thus emerged as a crucial discipline, steering humanity away from archaic, blame-based thinking and towards empirical, objective inquiry.

He explains that as the myriad pagan spirits and deities were aggregated into a single monotheistic deity, the perceived 'magic' was effectively pulled out of the world itself. This conceptual shift, where divine power became centralized, rendered ancient causal interpretations of natural phenomena untenable. Thiel also touches upon a Jungian perspective, suggesting that this transition from external pagan deities to a single God led to the internalization of these archetypal forces, transforming them into psychological phenomena within the human psyche.

He notes that while mimesis, or imitative desire, is what makes contemporary society dynamic, the absence of natural safeguards leaves it vulnerable to escalating conflict. Thiel argues that without transcendent reference points or established structures, human desire becomes increasingly directed towards what others possess or desire, leading to unhealthy and potentially destructive status competition. This loss of regulating mechanisms exacerbates the inherent mimetic tendencies within society, creating conditions for increased social tension and conflict.

Peterson notes that Piaget, a psychologist he is very familiar with, also prioritized imitation in his theories, much like Girard. However, Peterson points out a key divergence: Piaget's view did not concentrate as much on the violent aspects of imitation. Instead, Piaget focused more on how children organize themselves and develop cognitive structures through imitation, particularly evident in their engagement with games. This suggests Piaget had a more optimistic, progress-oriented perspective on imitation compared to Girard's emphasis on its potential for conflict and violence.

Peter Thiel contrasts the portrayal of crowd psychology in the Bible with that found in Enlightenment rationalism, highlighting a significant divergence. He states that in the Bible, the crowd is consistently depicted as fallible, often "always wrong" or "always crazy." This perspective cautions against the collective judgment of the masses. In contrast, Enlightenment rationality often champions democratic ideals, where the collective decision-making of the populace is generally regarded as inherently good. Thiel points out the danger in this, particularly when unanimous democratic voting can quickly transition from the 'wisdom of crowds' to the 'madness of crowds,' where collective agreement does not necessarily equate to truth or justice.

However, Thiel pushes back on this definition, probing whether such actions are merely a form of rational utility maximization—where one chooses a future benefit over immediate gratification based on a cost-benefit analysis. This debate delves into the underlying drivers of human behavior, exploring whether non-rational, perhaps even spiritual, elements of sacrifice are at play, or if such choices are purely the product of calculated reason.

He directly challenges the idea that all sacrifices are inherently justified or beneficial, asking what types of sacrifices society should truly be making. Thiel cites academia as an example of a social domain where the concept of sacrifice might be applied, implicitly probing whether the sacrifices made within such institutions genuinely lead to positive outcomes or are simply accepted norms. His skepticism underscores a desire to critically evaluate the practical implications and moral justifications behind societal expectations of sacrifice, rather than accepting them uncritically.