In their highly read First Things essay “Voyages to the End of the World,” Peter Thiel and Sam Wolfe use Francis Bacon’s utopian “New Atlantis” to argue that modern faith in unlimited technological progress has subtly redefined salvation as a human-controlled achievement rather than a divine gift, displacing religious understandings of human destiny with promises of security, abundance, and mastery over nature.
They warn that this Baconian project – disguised in Christian imagery – risks creating a seductive but spiritually impoverished civilization where technological power outpaces moral wisdom, potentially leading to an end-times trajectory of false salvation unless reintegrated into a framework that respects natural and spiritual limits.
Authored by William Brooks via The Epoch Times,
Founded in 1990 by the late Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, First Things magazine strives to promote a well-informed public philosophy in the Christian and Jewish traditions.
Last year, one of the most read essays in First Things was titled: “Voyages to the End of the World” by Peter Thiel and Sam Wolfe. Thiel is a tech entrepreneur, investor, and author. Wolfe is a writer and researcher at Thiel Capital.
These thinkers offer a probing examination of our modern technological ambitions. Using Francis Bacon’s unfinished 17th-century work “New Atlantis” as a point of departure, Thiel and Wolfe suggest that modern faith in scientific progress is corroding the religious understanding of human destiny. They contend that Bacon’s utopian tale about knowledge and prosperity contains a warning about the moral costs of unlimited technological mastery.
Thiel and Wolfe’s central claim is not that science itself is evil or that technological progress must be rejected. Rather, they argue that Bacon’s scientific project—and the modern world that has adopted it—rests on a redefinition of salvation. Whereas Christianity views redemption as a divine process that transcends history, Bacon relocates it firmly within human control. In doing so, modern technological civilization risks mistaking power for wisdom. This could have grave consequences as we enter an epoch defined by unprecedented technological advancement.
At the heart of their essay is a close look at Bacon’s fictional account of the island society of Bensalem. On its surface, Bensalem appears harmonious, pious, and benevolent. Its inhabitants are devout, orderly, and humane; its institutions promise healing, abundance, and stability. Its governing institution, Salomon’s House, is dedicated to the systematic investigation of nature for the “relief of man’s estate.” Bacon presents scientific inquiry as a quasi-religious vocation, cloaked in Christian imagery and moral restraint.
Thiel and Wolfe warn that this superficial harmony conceals a radical transformation of the human relationship to nature, knowledge, and God. They argue that Bacon’s true ambition was not merely to advance science but to replace the classical-Christian understanding of limits with a project of total technological mastery. Knowledge, in Bacon’s vision, is not ordered toward moral formation but toward domination and control. Nature is no longer something to be understood within an inherited moral order; it is something that can be conquered and redesigned.
This shift has profound implications. Bacon’s scientific method implicitly promises what religion once offered: security, healing, abundance, and even a form of immortality. By embedding these promises within a framework that appears Christian, Bacon disguised the degree to which his vision subtly marginalized the hand of God. In New Atlantis, God remains present, but increasingly as a symbolic guarantor of human progress rather than as the ultimate judge of human action.
Thiel and Wolfe interpret this displacement through an eschatological lens. Drawing on biblical imagery, they suggest that Bacon’s utopia resembles the deceptive peace promised in apocalyptic literature—a peace achieved not through repentance or divine reconciliation, but through human ingenuity and centralised power. The danger is not tyranny in its crudest form, but something more seductive: a world so efficient and secure that it no longer recognizes its spiritual impoverishment.
One of the essay’s most troubling conclusions is that modern technological civilization may be better understood as an end-times trajectory rather than a benign accumulation of new tools. Scientific progress does not merely extend human capacities; it reshapes human expectations about the future. When technology promises to eliminate scarcity, suffering, and even death, it inevitably assumes the role once played by theology. In this sense, modernity reconfigures the religious impulse by substituting technique for grace.
The authors argue that this substitution is inherently unstable. Technological power expands far more rapidly than moral wisdom, and the belief that every problem has a technical solution blinds societies to questions of meaning, responsibility, and restraint. The more humanity relies on systems it only partially understands—artificial intelligence, biotechnology, etc.—the more it risks becoming subject to forces it can neither fully control nor morally justify.
A further conclusion concerns the cultural conditions that allow this dynamic to persist. Thiel and Wolfe suggest that widespread biblical and philosophical illiteracy leaves contemporary society unable to recognize the spiritual dimensions of technological ambition. Apocalyptic language, once central to the Western moral imagination, is now dismissed as superstition.
Yet without such language, we lose a critical framework for discerning the difference between genuine progress and false salvation. The result is not rational clarity, but naivete—a readiness to accept sweeping promises of safety and efficiency without asking what is being sacrificed in return.
The relevance of “Voyages to the End of the World” becomes especially clear as we move deeper into the 21st century. Humanity now possesses technologies capable of reshaping life itself, from genetic engineering to autonomous systems that make decisions once reserved for human judgment. Political and economic leaders increasingly speak in utopian terms, promising that innovation will solve social conflict, environmental degradation, and even moral disagreement. These assurances echo Bacon’s vision of a world governed by knowledge rather than virtue, technique rather than tradition.
Thiel and Wolfe suggest we correct our course. They invite readers to reconsider whether the goals of technological civilization are as harmless as they appear. The question is no longer whether we can build more powerful tools, but whether those tools are shaping a conception of life that is ultimately compatible with human well-being.
The authors do not advocate withdrawal from modern life or a rejection of scientific inquiry. Their argument is one of discernment. Technological progress, they assert, must be reintegrated into a moral framework that acknowledges the natural limits of human power. Without such a framework, progress becomes self-justifying, and power becomes an end in itself. We are reminded that the future we build should not be merely technical. It should also be moral, spiritual, and ultimately related to the destiny of human souls.
As the second quarter of the 21st century unfolds, “Voyages to the End of the World” offers a timely caution.
The greatest danger facing technological civilization may not be catastrophe, but success—the achievement of a techno-managed world that no longer knows why or for what it exists.
Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times or ZeroHedge.
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