The historical Jesus Fact or Fiction? PART 2

Archaeology, “External Evidence,” and Groundhog Day in the Comment Section

Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays, where we stay curious, stay skeptical, and keep a healthy distance from any dogma, whether it’s wrapped in a Bible verse or a political ideology.

This is Part Two of my Jesus Myth series, and I’m going to be straight with you:

This one is a doozy.
Buckle up, buttercup. Feel free to pause and come back.

Originally, the plan was to bring David Fitzgerald back for another conversation. If you listened to Part One, you know he’s done a ton to popularize the idea that Jesus never existed and to dismantle Christian dogma. I still agree with the core mythicist claim: I don’t think the Jesus of the Gospels was a real historical person. If you missed it, here is the link.

But agreeing with someone’s conclusion doesn’t mean I hand them a free pass on how they argue.

After our first interview, I went deeper into Fitzgerald’s work and into critiques of it (especially Tim O’Neill’s long atheist review that absolutely shreds his method.) While his critique of Fitzgerald’s arguments is genuinely useful; his habit of branding people with political labels (“Trump supporter,” “denier”) to discredit them is… very regressive.

It’s the same purity-testing impulse you see in progressive (should be regressive) spaces, just performed in a different costume.

And that’s what finally pushed me over the edge:
The more I watch the atheist/deconstruction world online, the more it reminded me of the exact rigid, dogmatic cultures people say they escaped.

Not all atheists, obviously. But a very loud chunk of that ecosystem runs on:

  • dunking, dog-piling, and humiliation
  • tribal loyalty, not actual inquiry
  • “You’re dead to me” energy toward anyone who may lean conservative or shows nuance

It’s purity culture in different branding.

Then I read how Fitzgerald responded to critics in those archived blog exchanges (not with clear counterarguments) but with emotional name-calling and an almost devotional defense of his “hero and mentor,” Richard Carrier. For me, that was a hard stop.

Add to that: his public Facebook feed is full of contempt for moderates, conservatives, “anti-vaxxers,” and basically anyone outside progressive orthodoxy. My audience includes exactly those people. This space is built for nuance for people who’ve already escaped one rigid belief system and are not shopping for a new one.

He’s free to have his politics.
I’m free not to platform that energy.

So instead of Part Two with a guest, you’re getting something I honestly think is better:

  • me (😜)
  • a stack of sources
  • a comment section that turned into a live demo of modern apologetics
  • and a segment at the end where I turn the same critical lens on the mythicist side — including Fitzgerald himself

Yes, we’re going there. Just not yet.


Previously on Taste of Truth…

In Part One, I unpacked why “Jesus might never have existed” is treated like a taboo thought — even though the historical evidence is thin and the standards used to “prove” Jesus would never pass in any other field of ancient history.

Then, in a Taste Test Thursday episode, I zoomed out and asked:
Why do apologists argue like this at all?
We walked through:

  • early church power moves
  • modern thought-stopping tricks
  • and Neil Van Leeuwen’s idea of religious “credences,” which don’t function like normal factual beliefs at all

That episode was about the machinery.

Today is about the evidence. Especially the apologetic tropes that showed up in my comments like a glitching NPC on repeat.


⭐ MYTHS #6 & #7 — “History and Archaeology Confirm the Gospels”

Papyrus P52 (𝔓52), often called the oldest New Testament manuscript. (It’s the size of a credit card)
Apologists treat it like a smoking gun.
It contains… one complete word: ‘the.’

These two myths always show up together in the comments, and honestly, they feed off each other. People claim, “history confirms the Gospels,” and when that collapses, they jump to “archaeology proves Jesus existed.” So, I’m combining them here, because the evidence (and the problems) overlap more than apologists want to admit.

In short:
Archaeology confirms the setting. History confirms the existence of Christians.
Neither confirms the Jesus of the Gospels.

And once you actually look at the evidence, the apologetic scaffolding falls apart fast.


1. What Archaeology Really Shows (and What It Doesn’t)

If Jesus were a public figure performing miracles, drawing crowds, causing disturbances, and being executed by Rome, archaeology should show something tied to him or to his original movement.

Here’s what archaeology does show:

  • Nazareth existed.
  • Capernaum existed.
  • The general layout of Judea under Rome.
  • Ritual baths, synagogues, pottery, coins.
  • A real Pilate (from a fragmentary inscription).

That’s the setting.

Here’s what archaeology has never produced:

  • no house of Jesus
  • no workshop or tools
  • no tomb we can authenticate
  • no inscription naming him
  • no artifacts linked to the Twelve
  • no evidence of a public ministry
  • no trace of Gospel-level notoriety

Not even a rumor in archaeology that points to a miracle-working rabbi.
Ancient Troy existing doesn’t prove Achilles existed.
Nazareth existing doesn’t prove Jesus existed.

Apologists push the setting as if it confirms the character. It doesn’t.


2. Geography Problems, Anachronisms & Literary Tells

If the Gospels were eyewitness-based biographies, their geography would line up with first-century Palestine.

Instead, we get:

• Towns that don’t match reality

The Gerasene/Gadarene/Gergesa demon-pig fiasco moves between three different locations because the original story (Mark) puts Jesus 30 miles inland… nowhere near a lake or cliffs.

• Galilee described like a later era

Archaeology shows Galilee in the 20s CE was:

  • taxed to the bone
  • rebellious
  • dotted with large Romanized cities like Sepphoris and Tiberias

But the Gospels portray quaint fishing villages, peaceful Pharisees, and quiet countryside. This reflects post-70 CE Galilee: the era when the Gospels were actually written.

• Homeric storms on a tiny lake

Mark treats the Sea of Galilee like the Aegean (raging storms, near capsizings, disciples fearing death) even though ancient critics mocked this because the “sea” is a small lake.

Dennis MacDonald shows Mark lifting whole scenes from Homer, which explains the mismatch: his geography serves his literary needs, not the historical landscape.

• Joseph of “Arimathea” (a town no one can find)

Carrier and others point out the name works more like a literary pun (“best disciple town”) than a real toponym.

• Emmaus placed at different distances

Luke places it seven miles away. Other manuscripts vary. There was no fixed memory.

These aren’t the mistakes of people writing about their homeland.
They’re the mistakes of later authors constructing a symbolic landscape.


3. The Gospel Trial Scenes: Legally Impossible

This is the part Christians never touch.

One of the most respected legal scholars of ancient Jewish law did a line-by-line analysis of the Gospel trial scenes. He wasn’t writing from a religious angle, he approached it strictly as a historian of legal procedure.

His conclusion?
The trial described in the Gospels violates almost every rule of how Jewish courts actually worked.

According to his research:

  • capital trials were never held at night
  • they were not allowed during festivals like Passover
  • capital verdicts required multiple days, not hours
  • the High Priest did not interrogate defendants
  • witness testimony had to match
  • beating a prisoner during questioning was illegal
  • and Jewish courts didn’t simply hand people over to Rome

When you stack these facts together, it becomes clear:

The Gospel trial scenes aren’t legal history…. they’re theological storytelling.

That’s before we even get to Pilate.

Pilate was not a timid bureaucrat.

He was violent, ruthless, removed from office for brutality.


4. Acts Doesn’t Remember Any Gospel Miracles

If Jesus actually:

  • drew crowds,
  • fed thousands,
  • raised the dead,
  • blacked out the sun,
  • split the Temple curtain,
  • and resurrected publicly…

Acts (written after the Gospels) should remember all of this.

Instead:

  • No one in Acts has heard of Jesus.
  • No one mentions an empty tomb.
  • No one cites miracles as recent events.
  • Roman officials are clueless.
  • Paul knows Jesus only through visions and the scriptures.

Acts behaves exactly like a community whose “history” was not yet written.


5. Manuscripts: Many Copies, No Control

Apologists love saying:

“We have 24,000 manuscripts!”

Quantity isn’t quality.

  • almost all are medieval
  • the earliest are tiny scraps
  • none are originals
  • no first-century copies
  • scribes altered texts freely
  • entire passages were added or deleted
  • six of Paul’s letters are pseudonymous
  • many early Christian writings were forged

Even Origen admitted that scribes “add and remove what they please” (privately, of course.)

The manuscript tradition looks nothing like reliable preservation.


6. The Church Fathers Don’t Help (and They Were Tampered With Too)

This is where Fitzgerald’s chapter hits hardest.

Before 150 CE, we have:

  • no Church Father quoting any Gospel
  • no awareness of four distinct Gospels
  • no clear references to Gospel events

Justin Martyr (writing in the 150s) is the first to quote anything Gospel-like, and:

  • he never names Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John
  • many of his quotes don’t match our Gospels
  • he calls them simply “the memoirs”

Even worse:

The writings of Ignatius, Polycarp, Dionysius of Corinth, and many others were tampered with.
Some were forged entirely.

So the apologetic claim “The Fathers confirm the Gospels” collapses:

They don’t quote them.
They don’t know them.
And their own texts are unstable.

Metzger claimed we could reconstruct the New Testament from the Fathers’ quotations but his own scholarship shows the Fathers don’t quote anything reliably until after the Gospels were circulating.


7. External Pagan Sources: Late, Thin, and Dependent on Christian Claims

This is the other half of the myth… that “history” outside the Bible confirms Jesus.

Let’s look quickly:

• Tacitus (116 CE)

Reports what Christians of his day believed.
He cites no source, no archive, no investigation.

• Pliny (c. 111 CE)

Says Christians worship Christ “as a god.”
Confirms Christians existed — not that Jesus did.

• Josephus (93 CE)

The Testimonium is tampered with.
Even conservative scholars admit Christian hands were all over it.
The “James, brother of Jesus” line is ambiguous at best.

These are not independent confirmations.
They’re late echoes of Christian claims.


In closing:

You can confirm:

  • towns
  • coins
  • synagogues
  • political offices
  • geography

But that only shows the world existed, not the characters.

The Gospels are theological narratives composed decades later, stitched out of scripture, symbolism, literary models, and the needs of competing communities.

Archaeology confirms the backdrop.
History confirms the movement.
Neither confirms the biography.

Once you strip away apologetic spin, the evidence points to late, literary, constructed narratives, not eyewitness records of a historical man.


Myth #8: “Paul and the Epistles Confirm the Gospels”

Albert Schweitzer pointed out that if we only had Paul’s letters, we would never know that:

  • Jesus taught in parables
  • gave the Sermon on the Mount
  • told the “Our Father” prayer
  • healed people in Galilee
  • debated Pharisees

From Paul and the other epistles, you wouldn’t even know Jesus was from Nazareth or born in Bethlehem.

That alone should make us pause before saying, “Paul confirms the Gospels.”

Paul’s “Gospel” Is Not a Life Story

When Paul says “my gospel,” he doesn’t mean a narrative like Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. His gospel is:

  • Christ died for our sins
  • was buried
  • was raised
  • now offers salvation to those who trust him

No:

  • Bethlehem, Nazareth, Mary, Joseph
  • John the Baptist
  • miracles, exorcisms, parables
  • empty tomb story with women at dawn

And this isn’t because Paul is forgetful. His letters are full of perfect moments to say, “As Jesus taught us…” or “As we all know from our Lord’s ministry…”

He never does.

Instead, he appeals to:

  • his own visions
  • the Hebrew scriptures (in Greek translation, the Septuagint)
  • what “the Lord” reveals directly to him

For Paul, Christ is:

  • “the image of the invisible God”
  • “firstborn of all creation”
  • the cosmic figure through whom all things were made
  • the one who descends to the lower realms, defeats spiritual powers, and ascends again

That is cosmic myth language… not “my friend’s rabbi who did a lot of teaching in Galilee a few decades ago.”

The “Lord’s Supper,” Not a Last Supper

The one place people think Paul lines up with the Gospels is 1 Corinthians 11, where he describes “the Lord’s Supper.”

Look closely:

  • He never calls it “the Last Supper.”
  • He never says it was a Passover meal.
  • He never places it in Jerusalem.
  • He says he received this ritual from the Lord, not from human eyewitnesses.

The phrase he uses, kuriakon deipnon (“Lord’s dinner”), is the same kind of language used for sacred meals in pagan mystery cults.

The verb he uses for “handed over” is used elsewhere of God handing Christ over, or Christ handing himself over not of a buddy’s betrayal. The specific “Judas betrayed him at dinner” motif shows up later, in the Gospels.

Then, when later authors retell the scene, they can’t even agree on the script. We get:

  • Paul’s version
  • Mark’s version
  • Matthew’s tweak on Mark
  • Luke’s two different textual forms
  • and John, who skips a Last Supper entirely and relocates the “eat my flesh, drink my blood” thing to a synagogue sermon in Capernaum

That looks less like multiple eyewitness reports and more like a liturgical formula evolving as it gets theologized.

Hebrews and the Missing Connection

The author of Hebrews:

  • goes deep on covenant and sacrificial blood
  • quotes Moses: “This is the blood of the covenant…”
  • spends time on Melchizedek, who brings bread and wine and blesses Abraham

In other words:
The author sets up what would be a perfect sermon illustration for the Last Supper… but he never takes it. No “as our Lord did on the night he was betrayed.” No Eucharist scene. No Passover meal.

The simplest explanation:
He doesn’t know that story. He knows the ritual meaning; the later narrative scene in Jerusalem hasn’t been invented yet in his circle.

How Paul Says He Knows Christ

Paul is very clear about his source:

  • He did not receive his gospel from any human (Galatians 1).
  • He barely met the Jerusalem “pillars,” waited years to even visit them, and insists they added nothing to his message.
  • He says God “revealed his Son in me.”
  • His scriptures are the Septuagint, which he reads as a giant coded story about Christ.

In other words, for Paul:

  • Christ is a hidden heavenly figure revealed in scripture and visions.
  • The “mystery” has just now been unveiled.

That only makes sense if there wasn’t already a widely known human teacher whose sayings and deeds were circulating everywhere.

The Silence of the Other Epistles

If it were just Paul, we could say, “That’s just Paul being weird.”

But the pattern runs across the other epistles:

From the New Testament letters outside the Gospels and Acts, you would never know:

  • Jesus was from Nazareth or born in Bethlehem
  • he grew up in Galilee
  • he taught crowds, told parables, healed people, or exorcised demons
  • he had twelve disciples, one of whom betrayed him
  • there were sacred sites tied to his life in Jerusalem

“Bethlehem,” “Nazareth,” “Galilee” do not appear in those letters with reference to Jesus. Jerusalem is never presented as, “You know, the place where all this just happened.”

The supposed “brothers of the Lord” never act like family with stories to tell. The letters attributed to James and Jude don’t even mention they’re related to Jesus.

When these early authors argue about circumcision, food laws, purity, and ethics, they consistently go back to the Old Testament…not to anything like a Sermon on the Mount.

That is very hard to reconcile with a memory of a recent, popular Galilean preacher inspiring the entire movement.


Myth #9: “Christianity Began With Jesus and His Twelve Besties”

If you grew up on Acts, you probably have this movie in your head:

  • Tiny, persecuted but unified Jesus movement
  • Centered in Jerusalem
  • Led by Jesus’ family and the Twelve
  • Paul shows up later in season two as the complex antihero

That’s the canonical story.

When you step back and read our earliest sources on their own terms, that picture melts.

Fragmented from the Start

In 1 Corinthians, Paul complains:

“Each of you says, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ.’ Is Christ divided?” (1 Cor. 1:12–13)

That’s not “one unified church.”

He also:

  • rants about people “preaching another Jesus”
  • calls rival apostles “deceitful workers,” “false brothers,” “servants of Satan”
  • invokes curses on those preaching a different gospel (Gal. 1:6–9; 2 Cor. 11)

Meanwhile, the early Christian manual Didakhē warns communities about wandering preachers who are just “traffickers in Christs” (what Bart Ehrman nicknames “Christ-mongers.”)

Right away, we see:

  • multiple groups using the Christ label
  • competing versions of what “the gospel” even is
  • no sign of one tight central group everyone agrees on

Different Jesuses for Different Communities

By the time the Gospels and later texts are in circulation, we can already see:

  • Paul’s Christ: a cosmic, heavenly savior, revealed in scripture and visions, ruling spiritual realms
  • Thomasine Christ: in the Gospel of Thomas, salvation comes through hidden wisdom; there’s no crucifixion or resurrection narrative
  • Mark’s Jesus: a suffering, misunderstood Son of God who’s “adopted” at baptism and abandoned at the cross
  • John’s Jesus: the eternal Logos, present at creation, walking around announcing his unity with the Father
  • Hebrews’ Christ: the heavenly High Priest performing a sacrifice in a heavenly sanctuary

These are not just “different camera angles on the same historical guy.” They reflect:

  • different liturgies
  • different cosmologies
  • different starting assumptions about who or what Christ even is

And notice: there is no clean pipeline from “this man’s twelve students carefully preserved his teachings” into this wild diversity.

Paul vs. Peter: Not a Cute Disagreement

Acts spins the Jerusalem meeting as:

  • everyone sits down
  • hashes things out
  • walks away in perfect unity

Paul’s own account (Galatians 2) is… not that:

  • he calls some of the Jerusalem people “false brothers”
  • he says they were trying to enslave believers
  • he says he “did not yield to them for a moment”
  • he treats the supposed “pillars” (Peter, James, John) as nobodies who “added nothing” to his gospel

That’s not a friendly staff meeting. That’s two rival Christianities:

  • a more Torah-observant, Jerusalem-centered Jesus-sect
  • Paul’s law-free, Gentile-mystic Christ-sect

Acts, written later, airbrushes this into harmony. The letters show how close the whole thing came to a full split.

Where Are the Twelve?

If Jesus’ twelve disciples were:

  • real,
  • the main founders of Christianity,
  • traveling around planting churches,

we’d expect:

  • lots of references to them
  • preserved teachings and letters
  • at least some reliable biographical detail

Instead:

  • the lists of the Twelve don’t agree between Gospels
  • some manuscripts can’t even settle on their names
  • outside the Gospels and Acts, the Twelve basically vanish from the first-century record

Paul:

  • never quotes “the Twelve”
  • never appeals to them as the final authority
  • treats Peter, James, John simply as rival apostles, not as Jesus’ old friends

We have no authentic writings from any of the Twelve. The later “Acts of Peter,” “Acts of Andrew,” “Acts of Thomas,” etc., are generally acknowledged to be later inventions.

The simplest explanation is not that the Twelve were historically massive and weirdly left no trace. It’s that:

  • “The Twelve” are symbolic: twelve tribes, twelve cosmic seats, twelve zodiac signs, take your pick.
  • Their names and “biographies” were built after the theology, not before.

The Kenosis Hymn: Jesus as a Title, Not a Birth Name

In Philippians 2, Paul quotes an early hymn:

“Being found in human form, he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death — death on a cross.
Therefore God highly exalted him
and gave him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow…”

Notice:

  • The hymn does not say God gave him the title “Lord.”
  • It says God gave him the name Jesus after the exaltation.

That is not what you expect if “Jesus” was already the known name of a village carpenter from Nazareth. It makes a lot more sense if:

  • “Jesus” functions originally as a divine name for a savior figure (“Yahweh saves”),
  • assigned in the mythic story after his cosmic act,
  • and only later gets retrofitted as the everyday name of a human hero.

Mark: From Mystery Faith to “Biography”

All of this funnels into the earliest Gospel: Mark.

Mark announces up front that he’s writing a gospel, not a biography. Modern scholars have shown that Mark:

  • builds scenes out of Old Testament passages
  • mirrors patterns from Greek epics
  • structures the story like a giant parable, where insiders are given “the mystery of the kingdom,” and outsiders only get stories

In Mark’s own framework, Jesus speaks in parables so that many will see but not understand. The whole Gospel plays that way: symbolic narrative first, later read as straight history once the church gains power.

So did Christianity “begin with Jesus and his apostles”?

If by that you mean:

One coherent movement, founded by a famous rabbi with twelve close disciples, faithfully transmitted from Jerusalem outward…

Then no. That’s the myth.

What we actually see is:

  • multiple competing Jesuses
  • rival gospels and factions
  • no clear paper trail from “Jesus’ inner circle”
  • later authors stitching together a cleaned-up origin story and branding rivals as “heresy”

Biographies came after belief, not before.


Myth #10: “Christianity Was a Miraculous Overnight Success That Changed the World”

The standard Christian flex goes like this:

“No mere myth could have spread so fast and changed the world so profoundly. That proves Jesus was real.”

Let’s slow that down.

But before we even touch the growth rates, we need to name something obvious that apologists conveniently forget:

Christianity wasn’t the first tradition built around a dying-and-rising savior. Not even close.

Long before the Gospels were written, the ancient Near East had already produced fully developed resurrection myths. One of the oldest (and one of the most important) belonged to Inanna, the Sumerian Queen of Heaven.

Ancient Akkadian cylinder seal (2350–2150 BCE) depicting Inanna

Inanna’s Descent (c. 2000–3000 BCE) is the earliest recorded resurrection narrative in human history.

She descends into the Underworld, is stripped, judged, executed, hung on a hook, and then through divine intervention, is brought back to life and restored to her throne.

Learn more about the story of Inanna here.

This story predates Christianity by two thousand years and was well known across Mesopotamia.

In other words:

The idea that a divine figure dies, descends into darkness, and returns transformed was already ancient before Christianity was even born.

So, the claim that “no myth could spread unless it were historically real” falls apart immediately. Myths did spread. Myths do spread. Myths shaped entire civilizations long before Jesus entered the story.

Now (with that context in place) let’s actually talk about Christianity’s growth..

Christianities Stayed Small…. Until Politics Changed

Carrier’s modeling makes it clear:

  • even if you start with generous numbers (say 5,000 believers in 40 CE),
  • you still don’t get anywhere near a significant percentage of the Empire until well into the third century

And that includes all groups who believed in some form of Christ — including the later-branded “heretics.”

So, for the first ~250 years, Christianity:

  • is tiny
  • is fragmented
  • is one cult among many in a very crowded religious landscape

The “miracle” is not early explosive growth. It’s what happens when their tiny, disciplined network suddenly gets access to empire-level power.

Rome Falls; Christianity Rises

Fitzgerald is right that Christianity benefitted from Rome’s third-century crisis:

  • chronic civil wars
  • inflation and currency debasement
  • border instability and barbarian incursions
  • trade networks breaking down
  • urban life contracting

As conditions worsened:

  • Christianity’s disdain for “worldly” culture
  • its emphasis on endurance, suffering, and heavenly reward
  • its growing bishop-led structure and charity networks

…all became more attractive to the poor and dispossessed.

“It was a mark of Constantine’s political genius … that he realized it was better to utilize a religion … that already had a well‑established structure of authority … rather than exclude it as a hindrance.” Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

But there’s a step many historians including Fitzgerald often underplay:

How Christianity destroyed the classical world.

From Tolerated to Favored to Tyrannical

A quick timeline:

  • 313-Constantine legalizes Christianity (Edict of Milan). Christianity is now allowed, not official. Constantine still honors Sol Invictus and dies as a pagan emperor who also patronized bishops.
  • 4th century– Christian bishops gain wealth and political leverage. Imperial funds start flowing to churches. Pagan temples begin to be looted or repurposed.
  • 380– Emperor Theodosius I issues the Edict of Thessalonica: Nicene Christianity becomes the official state religion.
  • 395 and after– Laws begin banning pagan sacrifices and temple worship. Pagan rites become crimes.

Catherine Nixey’s The Darkening Age and Charles Freeman’s The Closing of the Western Mind document how this looked on the ground:

  • temples closed, looted, or destroyed
  • statues smashed
  • libraries and shrines burned
  • philosophers harassed, exiled, or killed
  • non-Christian rites criminalized

Christianity didn’t “persuade” its way to exclusive dominance. It:

  • received funding and legal favor
  • then helped outlaw and dismantle its competition

That is not a moral judgment; it’s just how imperial religions behave.

The “Overnight Success” That Took Centuries and a State

So was Christianity a new, radically different, overnight success?

  • Not new: it recycled the son-of-god savior pattern, sacred meals, initiation, and rebirth themes common in the religious world around it. Even early church fathers admitted the similarities and blamed them on Satan “counterfeiting” Christianity in advance.
  • Not overnight: it stayed statistically tiny for generations.
  • Not purely spiritual success: it became powerful when emperors needed an obedient, centralized religious hierarchy to stabilize a collapsing state.

Christianity didn’t “win” because its evidence was overwhelming.

It won because:

  • it fit the needs of late-imperial politics
  • it built a strong internal hierarchy
  • it could supply social services
  • its leaders were willing to suppress, outlaw, and overwrite rival traditions

This is not unique. It’s a textbook case of how state-backed religions spread.


Why the Pushback Always Sounds the Same

After Part One, my comment sections turned into Groundhog Day:

  • “You’re ignoring Tacitus and Josephus!”
  • “Every serious scholar agrees Jesus existed.”
  • “Archaeology proves the Bible.”
  • “There are 25,000 manuscripts.”
  • “Paul met Jesus’ brother!”
  • “If Jesus wasn’t real, who started Christianity?”
  • “Ancient critics never denied his existence — checkmate.”
  • “You just hate religion.”
  • “This is misinformation.”

Different usernames. Same script.

This is where Neil Van Leeuwen’s work on religious credences helps:

  • Factual beliefs are supposed to track evidence. If you show me credible new data, I update.
  • Religious credences function differently: they’re tied to identity, community, and morality. Their job isn’t to track facts; it’s to hold the group together.

So when you challenge Jesus’ historicity, you’re not just questioning an ancient figure. You’re touching:

  • “Who am I?”
  • “Who are my people?”
  • “What makes my life meaningful?”

No wonder people come in hot.

That doesn’t make them stupid or evil. It just means the conversation isn’t really about Tacitus. It’s about identity maintenance.


Now Let’s Turn the Lens on Mythicism (Yes, Including Fitzgerald)

Here’s where I want to be very clear:

  • I am a mythicist.
  • I do not think the Jesus of the Gospels ever existed as a historical person.

But mythicism itself doesn’t get a free pass.

Carrier’s Probability Model: When Someone Actually Does the Math

Most debates about Jesus collapse into appeals to authority. Richard Carrier’s On the Historicity of Jesus at least does something different: it quantifies the evidence.

Using Bayesian reasoning, he argues roughly:

  • about a 1 in 3 prior probability that there was a “minimal historical Jesus”– a real Jewish teacher who got executed and inspired a movement
  • about 2 in 3 for a “minimal mythicist” origin– a celestial figure whose story later got historicized

Then, after weighing the actual evidence (Paul’s silence, the late Gospels, contradictions, etc.), he argues the probability of a historical Jesus drops further, to something like 1 in 12.

You don’t have to agree with his exact numbers to see the point:

  • Once you treat the sources like data, not dogma, the overconfident “of course Jesus existed, you idiot” stance looks a lot less justified.

O’Neill’s Critique of Fitzgerald: Atheist vs Atheist

Tim O’Neill, an atheist historian, wrote a long piece on Fitzgerald’s Nailed and does not hold back. His basic charges:

  • Fitzgerald oversells weak arguments
  • cherry-picks and misuses sources
  • ignores mainstream scholarship where it contradicts him
  • frames mythicism as bold truth vs. “apologist cowards,” which is just another tribal narrative

When Fitzgerald responded, he didn’t do so like someone doing serious historical work. He responded like an internet keyboard warrior.

And that same ideological vibe shows up in how he talks about people in general, which I said in the beginning.

Atheism as New Orthodoxy

The more time I spend watching atheist and deconstruction spaces online, the more obvious it becomes that a lot of these folks didn’t escape religion, they just changed uniforms. They swapped their church pews for Reddit threads, pastors for science influencers, and now “logic” is their new scripture.
Ya feel me?
It’s the same emotional energy: tribal validation, purity tests–like what do you believe or think about this? And the constant hunt for heretics who dare to ask inconvenient questions.

Say something even slightly outside the approved dogma…like pointing out that evolution (calm down, Darwin disciples) still has gaps and theoretical edges we haven’t fully nailed down and suddenly the comment section becomes the Inquisition.
They defend the theory with the exact same fervor evangelicals defend the Book of Revelation.
It’s wild.

And look, I’m all for science. I’m literally the girl who reads academic papers for funsies.
But when atheists start treating evolution like a sacred cow that can’t be questioned, or acting like “reason” is this perfect, unbiased tool that magically supports all their existing beliefs… that’s not skepticism. That’s a new orthodoxy, dressed up as a freethinker.
Different vocabulary, same psychology.
Good gravy, baby— calm down.

and….here’s the uncomfortable truth a lot of atheists don’t want to hear:

Reason isn’t the savior they think it is.

French cognitive scientists Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber have spent years studying how humans actually use reason and prepare yourself because: we don’t use it the way we think. Their research shows that reason didn’t evolve to help us discover truth. It evolved to help us win arguments, protect our identities, and persuade members of our group.

In other words:

  • confirmation bias isn’t a flaw
  • motivated reasoning isn’t a glitch
  • tribal loyalty isn’t an accident

They are features of the reasoning system.

Which is why people who worship “logic” often behave exactly like the religious communities they left… just with new vocabulary and a different set of heretics.

This is also why intellectual diversity matters so much. You cannot reason your way to truth inside an ideological monoculture. Your brain simply won’t let you. Without competing perspectives, reasoning becomes nothing more than rhetorical self-defense, a way to signal loyalty to the tribe while pretending to be above it.

John Stuart Mill understood this long before modern cognitive science confirmed it. In On Liberty, Mill argues that truth isn’t something we protect by silencing dissent. Truth emerges through friction, through the clash of differing perspectives. A community that prides itself on “rational superiority” but cannot tolerate disagreement becomes just another church with a different hymnal.

And that’s where many atheist and deconstruction spaces are now.

They haven’t transcended dogma.
They’ve recreated it. Trading one orthodoxy for another.

This isn’t just about online atheists. This is about what happens when any movement stops questioning itself.


Challenging the Mythicist Side (Without Turning It Into Another Tribe)

Let’s get honest about the mythicist world too — because every camp has its blind spots.

Tim O’Neill’s critique of David Fitzgerald wasn’t just angry rhetoric. Strip away the insults, and he raises a few legitimate issues worth taking seriously:

1. Accusation of Agenda-Driven History

O’Neill argues that Fitzgerald starts with the conclusion “Jesus didn’t exist” and works backward, much like creationists do with Genesis.

Now Fitzgerald absolutely denies this. In his own words, he didn’t go looking for mythicism; mythicism found him when he started examining the evidence. And that’s fair.

But the deeper point still stands:

The mythicist movement can get so emotionally invested in debunking Christianity that it mirrors the very dogmatism it critiques.

You see this all over atheist spaces today — endless dunking, no nuance, purity tests, and very little actual curiosity.

That’s a valid critique.

2. Amateurism and Overreach

O’Neill also accuses Fitzgerald of relying too heavily on older scholarship, making confident claims where the evidence is thin, and occasionally overstating consensus.

Again — not entirely wrong.
Fitzgerald’s book is sharp and compelling, but it’s not the cutting-edge end of mythicism anymore.

There are places where he simplifies. There are places where he speculates.

This matters because mythicism deserves better than overconfident shortcuts.

3. Fitzgerald doesn’t push far enough

And ironically, this is where I diverge from O’Neill entirely. He thinks Fitzgerald goes too far; I think Fitzgerald stops too soon.

There are areas where the mythicist case has advanced beyond Fitzgerald’s framework, and he doesn’t touch them:

• The possibility that “Paul” himself is a literary construct

Nina Livesey and other scholars argue that:

  • The Pauline voice may be a 2nd-century invention.
  • The letters reflect Roman rhetorical conventions, not authentic 1st-century correspondence.
  • The “apostle Paul” may be a theological persona used to unify competing sects.

Fitzgerald doesn’t address this— but it’s now one of the most provocative frontiers in the field.

• The geopolitical legacy of Abrahamic supremacy

Fitzgerald critiques Christian nationalism. Great.
But he doesn’t go upstream to examine the deeper architecture:

How Abrahamic identity claims shaped law, land, empire, and modern geopolitics.

Abrahamic Power Isn’t Just Christian. Almost nobody looks at the broader landscape of Abrahamic influence in American politics and global power structures.

Once you zoom out, the picture gets a lot more complicated— and a LOT more revealing.

1. The Mormon Church Is a Financial Superpower

Most Americans have no idea how wealthy the LDS Church actually is.

The Mormon Church’s real estate & investment arm, Ensign Peak Advisors, was exposed in 2019 and again in 2023 for managing a secret portfolio now estimated at:

👉 $150–$200 billion

(Source: SEC filings, whistleblower leaks, Wall Street Journal)

To compare:

  • PepsiCo market cap: ~$175B
  • ExxonMobil (oil giant): ~$420B
  • Disney: ~$160B

Meaning:

📌 The LDS Church is financially on par with Pepsi and Disney, and not far behind Big Oil.

This is not a “church.” This is an empire.

And it invests strategically:

  • massive real estate acquisitions
  • agricultural control
  • media companies
  • political lobbying
  • funding influence networks

And let’s be clear:
Mormons see themselves as a literal remnant of Israel (the last tribe) destined to help rule the Earth “in the last days.”

Which brings us to…

2. Mormonism’s Quiet Partnership with the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR)

NAR is the movement behind the so-called “Seven Mountain Mandate”— the belief that Christians must seize control of:

  1. Government
  2. Education
  3. Media
  4. Arts & Entertainment
  5. Business
  6. Religion
  7. Family

This is the backbone of Christian nationalism and it’s far more organized than people realize. But here’s the part that never gets discussed:

Mormon elites collaborate with NAR leadership behind the scenes.

Shared goals:

  • influence over U.S. political leadership
  • shaping national morality laws
  • preparing for a prophetic “kingdom age”
  • embedding power in those seven spheres

This isn’t fringe. This is the largest religious–political coalition in the country, and yet most journalists never touch it.

3. The Ziklag Group: A $25M-Minimum Christian Power Circle

You want to talk about “elite networks”?

Meet Ziklag: an ultra-exclusive Christian organization named after King David’s biblical stronghold. Requirements for membership: a minimum net worth of $25 million Their mission?
Not charity. Not discipleship.

Influence the Seven Mountains of society at the highest levels.

Members include:

  • CEOs
  • hedge-fund managers
  • defense contractors
  • political donors
  • tech founders

Including the billionaire Uihlein family, who made a fortune in office supplies, the Greens, who run Hobby Lobby, and the Wallers, who own the Jockey apparel corporation. Recipients of Ziklag’s largesse include Alliance Defending Freedom, which is the Christian legal group that led the overturning of Roe v. Wade, plus the national pro-Trump group Turning Point USA and a constellation of right-of-center advocacy groups.

AND YET…

Most people yelling about “Christian nationalism” have never even heard of Ziklag.

4. Meanwhile, Chabad-Lubavitch Has Met with Every U.S. President Since 1978

Evangelical influence isn’t the only Abrahamic power Americans ignore.

Chabad (a Hasidic cult with global reach) has:

  • direct access to every U.S. president
  • annual White House proclamations (“Education & Sharing Day”) explicitly honor a religious leader as a moral authority over the nation.
  • a network of emissaries (shluchim) embedded in power centers around the world

This is influence, not conspiracy.

This is religious lobbying at the highest level of government, treated as unremarkable simply because the public doesn’t understand it.

See the Pattern Yet?

When people say “Christian nationalism,” they’re talking about one branch of a much older tree.

Christianity isn’t the problem. Atheism isn’t the solution.

The issue is Abrahamic supremacy: the belief that one sacred lineage has the right to rule, legislate, moralize, and define history for everyone else.

Across denominations, across continents, across political parties, the pattern is the same:

  • chosen-people narratives
  • divine-right entitlement
  • mythic land claims
  • sacred-tier influence operations
  • the blending of theology with statecraft

“Groupish belief systems that justify valuing one’s group above others must be inventable.”
Religion as Make-Believe.

Exactly.

These power structures aren’t ancient relics. They’re alive, wealthy, organized, and deeply embedded in American political life. And yet we’re told to panic exclusively about MAGA Christians…
while studiously ignoring:

  • Mormon financial empires
  • NAR infiltration of U.S. political offices
  • Zionist influence networks
  • Chabad’s presidential pipeline
  • elite Christian dominionist groups like Ziklag

This isn’t about blaming individuals.

It’s about naming systems. Because if we’re going to talk honestly about orthodoxy, myth, and power…

we need to talk about all of it— not just the parts that are fashionable to critique.

4. Mythicism still hasn’t grappled with empire

Most mythicist writing stops at:
“Jesus didn’t exist.”

Cool. Now what? The real question is:

HOW? How did a mythical figure become the operating system for Western civilization?

So, here’s where I actually land:

Christianity didn’t emerge from a single man.
It emerged from competing myths, political incentives, scriptural remixing, imperial needs, and evolving group identities.

And if that makes me someone who doesn’t quite fit in the Christian world, the atheist world, or the deconstruction world? Perfect. My loyalty is to the question, not the tribe. That’s exactly where I plan to stay.

That’s exactly where I plan to stay.

aaaand as always, maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️🔒


Footnotes

1. Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit (Eerdmans, 2011).

Archaeologist specializing in 1st-century Judea; emphasizes that archaeology illuminates daily life, but cannot confirm Jesus’ existence or Gospel events.

2. Eric M. Meyers & Mark A. Chancey, Archaeology, the Rabbis, and Early Christianity (Baker Academic, 2012).

Shows how archaeology supports context, not Gospel narrative details.

3. Steve Mason, Josephus and the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Hendrickson, 2003).

Explains why the Testimonium Flavianum is partially or heavily interpolated and cannot serve as independent confirmation of Jesus.

4. Alice Whealey, “The Testimonium Flavianum in Syriac and Arabic,” New Testament Studies 54.4 (2008): 573–590.

Analyzes manuscript traditions showing Christian editing of Josephus.

5. Louis Feldman, “Josephus,” Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 3 (Yale University Press, 1992).

Standard reference summarizing scholarly consensus about the unreliable portions of Josephus’ Jesus passages.

6. Brent Shaw, “The Myth of the Neronian Persecution,” Journal of Roman Studies 105 (2015): 73–100.

Shows Tacitus likely repeats Christian stories, not archival Roman data, making him a witness to Christian belief — not Jesus’ historicity.

7. Pliny the Younger, Epistles 10.96–97.

Earliest Roman description of Christian worship; confirms Christians existed, not that Jesus did.

8. Bart D. Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus (HarperOne, 2005).

Explains why New Testament manuscripts contain thousands of variations, with no originals surviving.

9. Dennis R. MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark (Yale University Press, 2000).

Argues Mark intentionally modeled episodes on Homeric motifs — supporting literary construction rather than eyewitness reporting.

10. Attridge, Harold W., The Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia Commentary Series).

Shows how Hebrews relies on celestial priesthood imagery and makes no connection to a recent earthly Jesus, even when opportunities are obvious.

11. Earl Doherty, The Jesus Puzzle (1999).

Early mythicist argument emphasizing the epistles’ lack of biographical Jesus data.

12. Richard Carrier, On the Historicity of Jesus (Sheffield Phoenix, 2014).

Presents a Bayesian model estimating mythicist origins as more probable than historicity.

13. Richard Carrier, Proving History (Prometheus, 2012).

Explains the historical method he uses for evaluating Jesus traditions.

14. Paula Fredriksen, From Jesus to Christ (Yale University Press, 2000).

Demonstrates the pluralism and fragmentation within earliest Christianity.

15. Burton Mack, The Christian Myth: Origins, Logic, and Legacy (Continuum, 2006).

Describes the emergence of various Jesus traditions as literary and theological constructions.

16. Clayton N. Jefford, The Didache (Fortress Press).

Analyzes early church manual revealing “wandering prophets,” factionalism, and market-style competition among early Jesus groups.

17. Catherine Nixey, The Darkening Age (Macmillan, 2017).

Documents the destruction of pagan culture under Christian imperial dominance.

18. Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind (Vintage, 2005).

Explores how Christian orthodoxy displaced classical philosophy.

19. Ramsay MacMullen, Christianizing the Roman Empire (Yale University Press, 1984).

Shows Christianity expanded primarily through imperial power, incentives, and legislation, not mass persuasion.

20. H.A. Drake, Constantine and the Bishops (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002).

Outlines Constantine’s political use of Christianity and the shift toward enforced orthodoxy.

21. Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom (Wiley-Blackwell, 2013).

Provides context for how Christianity overtook the Roman religious landscape.

22. Neil Van Leeuwen, “Religious Credence Is Not Factual Belief,” Cognition 133 (2014): 698–715.

Explains why religious commitments behave like identity markers, not evidence-responsive beliefs.

23. Whitney Phillips, This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (MIT Press, 2015).

Useful for understanding modern online purity culture dynamics, relevant to atheist-internet behavior discussed in your commentary section.

24. Joseph Reagle, Reading the Comments (MIT Press, 2015).

Analyzes comment-section behavior and ideological enforcement online.

25. Tim O’Neill, “Easter, the Existence of Jesus, and Dave Fitzgerald,” History for Atheists (2017).

Atheist historian critiquing Fitzgerald’s methodological errors, exaggerated claims, and misuse of sources.

26. Raphael Lataster, Questioning the Historicity of Jesus (Brill, 2019).

Secular academic arguing mythicism is plausible but insisting on higher methodological rigor than many popularizers use.

27. Richard Carrier, various blog critiques of Fitzgerald (2012–2019).

Carrier agrees with mythicism but critiques Fitzgerald for overstatement and inadequate source control.

How Faith Superseded Reason in Christianity

The story of intellectual destruction hidden behind the narrative of salvation

Hey Hey, welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays! Except today…it’s Thursday, which means it’s my bonus edition: Taste Test Thursday. Why a bonus? Because the comment sections lately have been overflowing with so much brain-dead apologetics, I had to dedicate an entire post just to unpack the anti-intellectual tricks Christians trot out like clockwork.

Last week I interviewed David Fitzgerald. On one hand, I was navigating a man who built his career dismantling Christian dogma. On the other, I found myself running headfirst into his own political certainties— rigid, unyielding, and just as unquestioned as the ideas he critiques. The irony wasn’t lost on me, especially as a moderate: the ex-Christian deconstruction space can be just as inhospitable to nuance as the faith it once rejected.

But what really matters here isn’t politics. It’s the dogma that never changes. Every time I debate the historicity of Jesus or the so-called “intellectual foundations” of Christianity, it feels like stepping into a twilight zone where facts and evidence are optional, and certainty always gets the last word.

Apologetics didn’t grow out of some noble pursuit of truth; it grew out of power struggles, suppression, and centuries of treating curiosity and inquiry as threats.

What gets labeled today as “defending the faith” has roots far older, far more political, and far more violent than most Christians realize. And understanding that history changes the way you engage with believers now— especially when they parrot the same canned responses that have been circulating (in one form or another) for almost 1,500 years.

And that’s what today’s episode is all about… to trace where this all actually came from….

Ancient Roots: When Apologetics Became a Tool of Power

For early Christians, defending their faith wasn’t just about theology, but survival in a world built on pluralism and reason. Thinkers like Justin Martyr, Origen, and Tertullian weren’t arguing from positions of power. Quite the opposite: they came from largely disenfranchised, low‑status communities— often slaves, women, and the poor— who were dismissed by Greco-Roman society. Early critics like Celsus, sneered that Christians were “only slaves, women, and little children … led by woolworkers, cobblers, and the most illiterate.”

But Christians were also up against a far more entrenched cultural reality: in the Greco-Roman world, it was normal (even comfortable) for people to participate in a number of cults simultaneously. Polytheistic religion meant multiple gods, multiple rituals, and no single institution claiming total authority. According to Charles Freeman, the intertwining of authority and Christianity was profoundly revolutionary: where one could previously be devoted to several deities at once, Christianity insisted that allegiance to one truth meant rejecting all others.

Early on, some of the Church Father’s work was intellectually sincere. They were trying to show Christianity wasn’t irrational. But as Charles Freeman points out, reason in theology faces a structural problem: unlike math or empirical science, it lacks universally accepted axioms. You can prove Pythagoras’ theorem because everyone agrees on what a right-angled triangle is. You can do inductive reasoning with empirical evidence because everyone can test and observe it. Theology? There are no such universal starting points. Revelations can be claimed by anyone, scripture can be interpreted in multiple ways, and even the most careful theologians disagreed on what counted as a “self-evident” truth.

The early Church quickly ran into this problem. Different communities drew on different texts, emphasized different letters of Paul, or debated competing visions of Jesus’ nature. The Montanists, for instance, were sidelined and crushed because their claims to divine revelation conflicted with what became orthodoxy. Even Thomas Aquinas, one of Europe’s “greatest rational thinkers”, had to suspend reason when it collided with doctrinal authority.

The point isn’t that Christians ignored reason — they didn’t. The point is that reason alone could never achieve consensus in matters of theology. Unlike other spiritual movements in the ancient world, Christianity insisted on a centralized authority, a single orthodoxy enforced across an empire of diverse cultures. That insistence on uniformity was revolutionary, and it set the stage for apologetics to evolve into a tool not just for defending belief, but for controlling it.

Once Christianity fused with political power (especially after Constantine) apologetics shifted again. It wasn’t enough to argue for the faith intellectually; it became a method of asserting authority, suppressing dissent, and standardizing scripture. Defending the faith became synonymous with maintaining control. What started as reasoning with skeptics gradually transformed into a mechanism to enforce orthodoxy across the Christian world.

It stopped being “Here’s why I believe” and became “Here’s why everyone must.”

As imperial authority was crumbling in the west, this is when the  bishops of Rome gained political backing, apologetics morphed into:

  • A tool for defining orthodoxy
  • A justification for suppressing dissent
  • A way to control access to scripture
  • A mechanism of dominance rather than debate

This shift marks the beginning of Christianity’s long relationship with enforcing belief rather than exploring truth — a pattern that shapes the modern faith more than its followers realize.

The Darkening Age: When Suppressing Ideas Became Holy Work

The Triumph of Christianity Over Paganism, by Tommaso Laureti 1585

Christian doctrine and its alliance with political power didn’t just close off types of questioning— it restructured the very social fabric of religious life. In effect, early Christians weren’t only claiming a new faith — they were demanding a new kind of loyalty built around a singular, authoritative orthodoxy. Catherine Nixey’s The Darkening Age doesn’t sugarcoat this period. Christianity’s rise didn’t just change the spiritual landscape; it also reshaped the intellectual world through force. At its heart, the book is a painful reminder of just how much was lost due to zealotry and religious dogma.

Nixey challenges the conventional narrative of Christianity “saving” Western civilization by exposing the far darker story: philosophers beaten, tortured, interrogated, exiled; their beliefs forbidden; intellectual traditions silenced. As the historian John Pollini observes, modern scholarship has often downplayed or overlooked these attacks, even presenting Christian desecration in a positive light.

Between the fourth and sixth centuries:

  • Pagan temples were smashed or repurposed
  • Statues were mutilated
  • Philosophical schools were closed
  • Entire libraries and works of classical literature were burned or erased

The destruction wasn’t without precedent. As I reflected in my notes for an upcoming episode on The Darkening Age, Christianity, emerging from a Jewish context, carried forward a zeal for nullifying rival religious objects and practices. Deuteronomy explicitly commands:

“You shall overthrow their altars, break their pillars, burn their growth with fire… and destroy the names of their gods out of that place.”

Early Christians, many of them ethnic Jews, others European converts, obliterated traditional art — especially works venerating ancestors…in ways strikingly similar to this Torah mandate. The Talmud codifies the principle: defacing an idol: cutting off a nose, fingertip, or ear was a method to revoke its divine status. Once damaged intentionally, the object lost its sacred standing.

Germanicus Caesar Germanicus’s nose has been mutilated and a cross has been carved in his forehead–perhaps an attempt to “baptize” and neutralize any possible demons within

“As the Church Father Basil explained, such ecclesiastical censorship was not illiberal; it was loving. Just as Augustine advocated the beating of heretics with rods out of fatherly care, so Basil advocated the removal of great tracts of classical canon as an act of ‘great care’ to ensure the soul was safely guarded.” Catherine Nixey, The Darkening Age the Christian Destruction of the Classical World

The primary sources are shocking. Some Christians didn’t just accept violence as a duty— they enjoyed it. Saint Augustine reportedly saw throwing down temples, idols, and groves as proof of abhorring paganism. Benedict of Nursia, revered as the founder of Western monasticism, was also celebrated as a destroyer of antiquities. John Chrysostom writes in The Homilies, On the Statues that punishing the pagan “sinner” (flogging, beating, even murder) was not harming them but saving them from the ultimate punishment. Murder in service of God was framed as prayer.

Reading this evokes deep visceral sadness. The destruction of creative thought, science, and philosophical inquiry is staggering. It’s impossible not to notice the echo in modern Christianity: when someone converts, they’re often asked to discard books, crystals, or other personal items that represent “pagan” or non-Christian influences. In some ways, the impulse to erase ideas, objects, and independent thought persists today.

ARCHIMEDES PALIMPSEST, C. IOTH-I3TH CENTURY 

A tenth-century copy of Archimedes chalf Mechanical Theorems. In it, Archimedes had ingeniously applied mechanical laws, such as the law cl the lever, to find the volume and area of geometric shapes. Two thousand years before Newton, he had come tantalizingly close to deriving calculus. However, in the thirteenth century this work was scraped off and overwritten with a prayer book.

This isn’t apologetics as debate by any means. It was apologetics as a sledgehammer, operating under the conviction that only one worldview deserved to survive. Nixey’s work is enraging, tragic, and illuminating. It shows that while Christianity has morphed and evolved over centuries, the strategies of control, suppression, and moral justification remain recognizable today.

Closing of the Western Mind: When Faith Shut Down Reason

“By the fifth century, not only has rational thought been suppressed, but there has been a substitution for it of ‘mystery, magic and authority’ …” — Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

Charles Freeman’s The Closing of the Western Mind explains how Christianity, once in power, didn’t just defend itself; it fundamentally transformed the intellectual landscape of the West.

Greek philosophy, still vibrant in the early centuries, was gradually co-opted and subordinated to Christian authority. Faith, not reason, became the foundation of legitimacy. Independent philosophical traditions, especially those that didn’t align with Christian doctrine, were suppressed. Thought, inquiry, and debate were no longer neutral tools — they were potential threats

“Faith … involves some kind of acquiescence in what cannot be proved by rational thought.”  — Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

The combination of church and imperial authority enforced orthodoxy across the empire.

“This ‘desire for control… of taxes and contributions’ was a corrosive feature of church politics. This linking of access to resources with orthodoxy was bound to lead to nasty rivalries when doctrine was so fluid.” Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

Freeman shows that this wasn’t simply an unfortunate side effect of religion gaining power.

“It was a mark of Constantine’s political genius … that he realized it was better to utilize a religion … that already had a well‑established structure of authority … rather than exclude it as a hindrance.” Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

It was a structural choice: intellectual freedom was sacrificed for doctrinal control. The centuries that followed were marked by a persistent tension between reason and religion, one that would only begin to loosen with the reintroduction of Aristotle in the 13th century.

In other words, modern apologetics, the slick, defensive arguments Christians use today, didn’t appear in a vacuum. They are built on a foundation laid over centuries: a system where questioning authority was discouraged, curiosity was suspect, and dissent could be dangerous. Understanding this context changes the conversation entirely. 

When we debate Christians today about history, scripture, or reason, we aren’t just dealing with modern arguments…we’re confronting a legacy of intellectual suppression stretching back over a millennium.

Modern Apologetics: A Thought‑Stopping System Dressed Up as Intellectualism

Fast‑forward to today, and the patterns from history are still painfully familiar. Modern apologists like Lee Strobel or Josh McDowell often present themselves as investigators, journalists, or historians. But underlying that veneer of investigation is something much more defensive: their method isn’t really about seeking truth — it’s about creating an insulated echo chamber in which questioning feels unsafe.

You’ll notice how in their approach:

  • Doubt is pathologized
  • Questions are reframed as attacks
  • “Answers” come prepackaged
  • Evidence is curated selectively
  • Authority is invoked instead of demonstrated

This isn’t accidental. It’s the legacy of a system built not to evaluate claims, but to preserve credence.

To underscore that, let’s look at a couple of real voices:

Lee Strobel, in The Case for Christ, has described the evidence for Jesus like this:

“I picture the evidence for the deity of Jesus to be like the fast-moving current in a river. To deny the data would be like swimming upstream against the current … What’s logical, based on the strength of the case for Christ, is to swim in the same direction the evidence is pointing …” 

On the surface, that sounds rational. But it’s also subtly coercive — it frames belief as a natural, almost inevitable conclusion. If you resist, you’re not just wrong; you’re swimming against the current. That metaphor doesn’t invite open inquiry; it discourages it.

Robert M. Price: Calling Out the Illusion of Objectivity

Robert M. Price, in The Case Against the Case for Christ, goes even further. He accuses Strobel of building his “investigation” on a very narrow foundation:

“His true intention becomes clear by the choice of people he interviewed: every one of them a conservative apologist!” 

He also critiques the entire enterprise as a “long exercise in applying the fallacy of informal logic known as ‘the appeal to authority.’”  By highlighting that Strobel only interviews like-minded evangelical scholars, Price argues that Strobel never really engages with real skepticism or dissent. Instead, he reinforces what his audience already believes— with authority, not argument.

Why This Matters

Thought-stopping by design.
Strobel’s river metaphor isn’t an invitation to inquire — it’s a mental funnel. It teaches you to treat questions as temptations and answers as preselected. That’s classic thought-stopping: reframe uncertainty as spiritual danger, and the search ends before it begins.

Selection bias on display.
Price highlights how most “investigations” in apologetics aren’t investigations at all. They’re confirmation exercises. The conclusions are fixed, and the evidence is hand-picked to match. Doubt gets pathologized; alternative explanations get caricatured; and any data that threatens the thesis gets quietly dismissed as “liberal scholarship.”

Authority over evidence.
A hallmark of thought-stopping systems is the outsourcing of your epistemic agency. Rather than wrestling with contradictory ideas, you’re told to trust select authorities who have already “done the work” for you. The message is subtle but effective: Don’t think — defer. And the more you defer, the easier it becomes to confuse loyalty with truth.

Identity first, truth second.
when belief is woven into group identity, truth loses priority. In that ecosystem, bad arguments don’t weaken the faith — they strengthen belonging. The goal shifts from discovering what’s true to protecting who we are. And that’s why apologetics so often functions as thought-stopping: it reinforces identity boundaries rather than expanding understanding.

Modern apologetics doesn’t just argue— it fortifies. And once you see it for what it is, it’s easier to call out the patterns and not fall back into the same historical traps of intellectual control.

Mark Noll and the Scandal Christians Don’t Want to Acknowledge

Mark Noll famously wrote: “The scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is not much of an evangelical mind.”

And Noll’s critique isn’t just an evangelical problem. He’s describing a deep pattern that Christianity carried for centuries. Long before Darwin, before fundamentalism, before American politics ever touched a pulpit, Christians had already built an intellectual culture that favored:

  • authority over investigation
  • doctrine over open debate
  • preservation over exploration

Noll shows how early Christian communities learned to treat intellectual life as something to be “managed” rather than expanded. Church leaders policed ideas to protect unity. Questioning official teaching wasn’t framed as curiosity — it was framed as disloyalty.

That instinct hardened over time. Through the medieval church, the Reformation, and the rise of Protestant denominations, Christians inherited the same reflex: the safest mind is the obedient mind.

By the time evangelicalism appears in America, the pattern is already set. What looks like modern “anti-intellectualism” is really just the latest expression of something older: a tradition that trained generations to fear the consequences of independent thought.

Seen through Noll’s lens, apologetics suddenly makes perfect sense.
It’s not an attempt to think freely — it’s an attempt to stabilize belief.
It functions exactly the way a system built on centuries of intellectual gatekeeping would function— it’s functioning exactly the way it was designed to.

Credence vs. Belief: Why Arguments About Jesus Go Nowhere

One of the most clarifying concepts for understanding why Christian apologetics often feels impervious to evidence comes from Neil Van Leeuwen’s work on religious credence. He distinguishes between factual beliefs (which hold across all contexts and guide our actions consistently) and religious credence, which function more like imaginative or conditional assumptions tied to specific social and ritual settings.

Factual beliefs remain operative regardless of context. If you imagine your bed is a boat floating down stream, the reality of your bed remains unchanged. Stage actors, for instance, can fully inhabit the world of Hamlet while still acting according to the real physics of a stage. Religious credence, in contrast, are activated by particular experiences: rituals, rites of passage, confrontations with mortality, or challenges to identity.

Consider a church that rents a local gymnasium for Sunday service: everyone knows they’re sitting on bleachers in a multipurpose building, yet within that context, the space becomes sacred. The credence imposed by ritual and communal belief transforms ordinary surroundings into objects of spiritual significance, even while factual reality remains unchanged.

This distinction helps explain why apologetics doesn’t behave like fact-checking. Modern Christian arguments are not primarily designed to persuade with evidence; they are structured to maintain credence. Doubt is framed as dangerous, questions are answered with prepackaged responses, and rituals, narratives, and appeals to authority reinforce the believer’s identity and group loyalty. In other words, apologetics isn’t just defending a claim — it’s protecting a cognitive system that operates independently of factual reality.

In fact, as Neil Van Leeuwen puts it:

“When a belief is rooted in somebody’s group identity, truth often takes the back seat if a certain kind of attitude is playing a role in defining or constituting a group identity. Truth is not as important, and in fact they might do this better if they’re not true.”

This gets to the heart of why modern apologetics is less about investigation and more about protection. Doubt isn’t just unwelcome— it threatens the social and cognitive structures that support identity. Prepackaged answers, appeals to authority, and ritual reinforcement aren’t failures of reasoning; they are deliberate mechanisms to safeguard credence, keeping the believer anchored in a worldview that serves the group, not necessarily the facts.

This is why arguments about Jesus’ historicity feel like Groundhog Day. You’re not dealing with beliefs designed to track reality… you’re dealing with identity-protecting narratives designed to resist reality.

In closing: 

This isn’t about dunking on individuals. It’s about recognizing what you’re actually interacting with.

Understanding this history gives you clarity:

  • You’re not debating a modern argument; you’re confronting 1,500 years of institutional thought management.
  • The frustration you feel isn’t personal— it’s structural.
  • The “answers” you hear aren’t original. They’re part of a system designed to be immune to evidence.

And most importantly: Apologetics doesn’t function to seek truth. It functions to protect credence.

Which means the biblical Jesus, the “case for Christ,” and the endless spiral of apologetic books aren’t neutral intellectual exercises. They’re artifacts of a culture built on suppressing alternative ideas, discouraging inquiry, and elevating belief above accuracy.

Once you trace the lineage, from temple-burning zealotry and doctrinal power struggles to modern thought-stopping scripts, the pattern is unmistakable. What appears as reasoned debate is often a carefully maintained system of intellectual control. Understanding that history doesn’t just explain the past; it equips you to see how apologetics functions today and why challenging it can feel like swimming upstream.

Ultimately, the story isn’t just about one book, one belief, or one faith. It’s about recognizing the enduring architecture of authority, credence, and control while reclaiming the space for curiosity, evidence, and honest questioning.

The Historical Jesus Fact or Fiction?

Nailed: Ten Christian Myths That Show Jesus Never Existed at All

Today’s episode is one I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. I sat down with author and researcher David Fitzgerald, whose book Nailed: Ten Christian Myths That Show Jesus Never Existed at All has stirred up both fascination and controversy in both historical and secular circles.

Before anyone clutches their pearls — or their study Bible — this conversation isn’t about bashing belief. It’s about asking how we know what we think we know, and whether our historical standards shift when faith enters the equation.

Fitzgerald has spent over fifteen years investigating the evidence — or lack of it — surrounding the historical Jesus. In this first part of our series, we cover Myth #1 (“The idea that Jesus being a myth is ridiculous”) and Myth #4 (“The Gospels were written by eyewitnesses”). We also start brushing up against Myth #5, which explores how the Gospels don’t even describe the same Jesus.

We didn’t make it to Myth #7 yet — the claim that archaeology confirms the Gospels…. so, stay tuned for Part Two.

And for my visual learners!! I’ve got you. Scroll below for infographics, side-by-side Gospel comparisons, biblical quotes, and primary source references that make this episode come alive.

🧩 The 10 Myths About Jesus — According to Nailed

Myth #1: “The idea that Jesus was a myth is ridiculous!”
→ Fitzgerald argues that the assumption of Jesus’ historicity persists more from cultural tradition than actual historical evidence, and that questioning it isn’t fringe. It’s legitimate historical inquiry.

Myth #2: “Jesus was wildly famous — but somehow no one noticed.”
→ Despite claims that Jesus’ miracles and teachings drew massive crowds, there’s an eerie silence about him in the records of contemporaneous historians and chroniclers who documented far lesser figures.

Myth #3: “Ancient historian Josephus wrote about Jesus.”
→ The so-called “Testimonium Flavianum” passages in Josephus’ work are widely considered later Christian insertions, not authentic first-century testimony.

Myth #4: “Eyewitnesses wrote the Gospels.”
→ The Gospels were written decades after the events they describe by unknown authors relying on oral traditions and earlier written sources, not firsthand experience.

Myth #5: “The Gospels give a consistent picture of Jesus.”
→ Each Gospel portrays a strikingly different version of Jesus — from Mark’s suffering human to John’s divine Logos — revealing theological agendas more than biographical consistency.

Myth #6: “History confirms the Gospels.”
→ When examined critically, historical records outside the Bible don’t corroborate the key events of Jesus’ life, death, or resurrection narrative.

Myth #7: “Archaeology confirms the Gospels.”
→ Archaeological evidence supports the general backdrop of Roman-era Judea but fails to verify specific Gospel claims or the existence of Jesus himself.

Myth #8: “Paul and the Epistles corroborate the Gospels.”
→ Paul’s letters — the earliest Christian writings — reveal no awareness of a recent historical Jesus, focusing instead on a celestial Christ figure revealed through visions and scripture.

Myth #9: “Christianity began with Jesus and his apostles.”
→ Fitzgerald argues that Christianity evolved from earlier Jewish sects and mystery religions, with “Jesus” emerging as a mythologized figure around whom older beliefs coalesced.

Myth #10: “Christianity was totally new and different.”
→ The moral teachings, rituals, and savior motifs of early Christianity closely mirror surrounding pagan traditions and Greco-Roman mystery cults.


📘 Myth #1: “The Idea That Jesus Being a Myth Is Ridiculous”

This one sets the tone for the entire book — because it’s not even about evidence at first. It’s about social pressure.

Fitzgerald opens Nailed by calling out how the mythicist position (the idea that Jesus might never have existed) gets dismissed out of hand…even by secular historians. As he points out, the problem isn’t that the evidence disproves mythicism. The problem is that we don’t apply the same historical standards we would to anyone else.

Case in point: Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon.

Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon at the head of his army, 49 BC. Illustration from Istoria Romana incisa all’acqua forte da Bartolomeo Pinelli Romano (Presso Giovanni Scudellari, Rome, 1818-1819).

When historians reconstruct that event, we have:

  • Multiple contemporary accounts from major Roman historians like Suetonius, Plutarch, Appian, and Cassius Dio.
  • Physical evidence — coins, inscriptions, and monuments produced during or shortly after Caesar’s lifetime.
  • Political and military documentation aligning with the timeline.

In contrast, for Jesus, we have:

  • No contemporary accounts.
  • No archaeological or physical evidence.
  • Gospels written decades later by anonymous authors who never met him.

That’s the difference between history and theology.

Even historian Bart Ehrman, who does believe Jesus existed, has called mythicists “the flat-earthers of the academic world.” Fitzgerald addresses that in the interview (not defensively, but critically) asking why questioning this one historical figure provokes so much emotional resistance.

As he puts it, if the same level of evidence existed for anyone else, no one would take it seriously.


✍️ Myth #4: “The Gospels Were Written by Eyewitnesses”

We dive into the authorship problem — who actually wrote the Gospels, when, and why it matters.


🔀 Myth #5: “The Gospels Don’t Describe the Same Jesus”

⚖️ Contradictions Between the Gospels

1. Birthplace of Jesus — Bethlehem or Nazareth?

Matthew 2:1 – “Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king.”
Luke 2:4–7 – Joseph travels from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the census, and Jesus is born there.
John 7:41–42, 52 – Locals say, “The Messiah does not come from Galilee, does he?” implying Jesus was known as a Galilean, not from Bethlehem.

🔍 Mythicist take:
Bethlehem was retrofitted into the story to fulfill the Messianic prophecy from Micah 5:2. In early Christian storytelling, theological necessity (“he must be born in David’s city”) trumps biographical accuracy.

2. Jesus’ Genealogy — Two Lineages, Zero Agreement

Matthew 1:1–16 – Jesus descends from David through Solomon.
Luke 3:23–38 – Jesus descends from David through Nathan.
Even Joseph’s father differs: Jacob (Matthew) vs. Heli (Luke).

🔍 Mythicist take:
Two contradictory genealogies suggest not historical memory but theological marketing. Each author tailors Jesus’ lineage to fit symbolic patterns — Matthew emphasizes kingship; Luke, universality.

3. The Timing of the Crucifixion — Passover Meal or Preparation Day?

Mark 14:12–17 – Jesus eats the Passover meal with his disciples before his arrest.
John 19:14 – Jesus is crucified on the day of Preparation — before Passover begins — at the same time lambs are being slaughtered in the Temple.

🔍 Mythicist take:
This isn’t a detail slip; it’s theology. John deliberately aligns Jesus with the Paschal lamb, turning him into the cosmic sacrifice — a theological metaphor, not an eyewitness timeline.

4. Jesus’ Last Words — Four Versions, Four Theologies

Mark 15:34 – “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” → human anguish.
Luke 23:46 – “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” → serene trust.
John 19:30 – “It is finished.” → divine completion.
Matthew 27:46 – Echoes Mark’s despair, but adds cosmic drama (earthquake, torn veil).

🔍 Mythicist take:
Each Gospel shapes Jesus’ death to reflect its theology — Mark’s suffering human, Luke’s faithful martyr, John’s omniscient divine being. This isn’t eyewitness diversity; it’s evolving mythmaking.

5. Who Found the Empty Tomb — and What Did They See?

Mark 16:1–8Three women find the tomb open, see a young man in white, flee in fear, tell no one.
Matthew 28:1–10Two women see an angel descend, roll back the stone, and tell them to share the news.
Luke 24:1–10Several women find the stone already rolled away; two men in dazzling clothes appear.
John 20:1–18Mary Magdalene alone finds the tomb, then runs to get Peter; later she meets Jesus himself.

🔍 Mythicist take:
If this were a consistent historical event, we’d expect some harmony. Instead, we see mythic escalation: from a mysterious empty tomb (Mark) → to heavenly intervention (Matthew) → to divine encounter (John).


6. The Post-Resurrection Appearances — Where and to Whom?

Matthew 28:16–20 – Jesus appears in Galilee to the eleven.
Luke 24:33–51 – Jesus appears in Jerusalem and tells them to stay there.
Acts 1:4–9 – Same author as Luke, now extends appearances over forty days.
Mark 16 (longer ending) – A later addition summarizing appearances found in the other Gospels.

🔍 Mythicist take:
The resurrection narrative grows with time — geographically, dramatically, and theologically. Early silence (Mark) gives way to detailed appearances (Luke/John), mirroring the development of early Christian belief rather than eyewitness memory.


🌿 Final Thought

Whether you end up agreeing with Fitzgerald or not, the point isn’t certainty… it’s curiosity. The willingness to look at history without fear, even when it challenges what we’ve always been told.

And here’s the fun part! David actually wants to hear from you. If you’ve got questions, pushback, or something you want him to unpack next time, drop it in the comments or send it my way. I’ll collect your submissions and bring a few of them into Part Two when we dig into Myth #7 — “Archaeology Confirms the Gospels.”

and as always, maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️

📖 Further Reading 📖 

Foundational Mythicist Works:

  • Richard Carrier – On the Historicity of Jesus
  • Robert M. Price – The Christ-Myth Theory and Judaizing Jesus 
  • Earl Doherty – The Jesus Puzzle
  • Gospel Fictions – Randel Helms
  • The Fable of Christ – Joseph Wheless
  • The Pagan Christ – Tom Harpur
  • The Historical Jesus – William Benjamin Smith
  • The mythic past : biblical archaeology and the myth of Israel

Did Jesus Exist? Jacob Berman and Dr. Jack Bull Versus Dr. Aaron Adair and Neil Godfrey

Mainstream Scholarship & Context

  • Bart Ehrman – Did Jesus Exist?
  • Jonathan Haidt – The Righteous Mind Why Good People are Divided by Religion and Politics

Critiques of Bart Ehrman

Broader Philosophical & Cultural Context

  • Christianity before Christ  –  John G Jackson
  • The World’s Sixteen Crucified Saviors – Kersey Graves
  • The Christ Conspiracy – Acharya S (D.M. Murdock)


The Conversation We’re Avoiding…..

Let’s discuss what Tucker Carlson, Nick Fuentes, & The New Jerusalem Reveal About Power and Media

Hey Hey Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays.

At the end of last month, we started unpacking a big question: where does real power sit in our country? And how does understanding history & theology change the way we see what’s happening today?

Well, the timing couldn’t be more perfect, because right now there’s a viral clash unfolding that brings all those threads together in real time.

I just finished reading the book The New Jerusalem by Michael Collins Piper, which was written way back in 2004 and it discussed a lot of the same individuals and key information that Fuentes said during this 2-part attack on Tucker. The book is a deep dive into decades of political and financial influence shaping America. As I’m reading it, this public duel emerges between two of the loudest voices in the alt-right media: Tucker Carlson and Nick Fuentes. And I really appreciated what Ian Carroll had to say about the subject while he reminded us why these kinds of debates aren’t just entertainment: they’re essential for discussing the truth & the health of our nation.

This isn’t gossip or drama. It’s about understanding the invisible lines drawn around what we’re allowed to talk about, what gets filtered out, and what’s shut down. If we pay attention, this moment could help move the conversation forward in ways we desperately need.


The New Jerusalem: Mapping Influence Behind the Scenes

In our previous episode, I mentioned how I truly believe that we have been an occupied nation since 1960s and Michael Piper (author of The New Jerusalem) totally agrees. He wrote a 768 page book called The Final Judgment The missing link in the JFK Assassination Conspiracy and so that is just a whole nother rabbithole.

He also wrote a book called The High Priest of War which was the first full length work examining the little known history of the hardline pro Israel neoconservative movement which Nick Fuentes was really breaking down for us in his part two series (in particular).

It is starting to make so much sense… So I’m just trying to point you guys into resources not to propose myself as someone who can connect all the dots like Michael Collins Piper can. He traces the networks, deals, and consolidations of power that have shaped the American political and financial landscape over the last century.

It’s definitely a lot shorter and more entertaining than Whitney’s Webs books Nation Under Blackmail I couldn’t get through them to be honest with you they were so dry so if you read them mad props to you.

So, for me, what stands out is the gradual centralization of influence: from banking to media to government appointments. These connections have profound effects on policy, public opinion, and international alliances.

You know you can say connecting the dots is anti-Semitic

The esteemed Websters dictionary has now broadened the definition of antisemitism to include: “opposition to Zionism” which is definitely a lot of what I speak about and “sympathy for the opponents of Israel”.

Those two categories alone would probably include literally billions of people across the face of this planet. We need to understand that when people label folks as “white-supremacists”, “Nazi”, “antisemitic”…. you know cancel culture is over so if y’all aren’t picking up on that like do you need to go to primary sources and listen specifically to what people were saying try to read books try to listen to different sides of the story so you can grasp the truth (if you can).

This isn’t wild conspiracy. It’s a careful look at decades of patterns and documented facts (most of the sources were from Jewish resources). Our current political reality didn’t just appear by chance. It’s the product of generations of social engineering, strategic moves and powerful leverage.

Without this historical lens, it’s easy to see today’s media as an organic mess of voices. But with it, you realize just how much of what we hear (and don’t hear) is carefully shaped, and rarely talked about openly.


Tucker Carlson vs. Nick Fuentes: A Public Clash Over Boundaries

What kicked all of this off was an interview on August 1st, 2025, when Tucker Carlson sat down with Candace Owens. During that 15-minute segment, they launched a personal character attack on Nick Fuentes. The spark? Tucker claimed he didn’t know his dad was in the CIA until after his father’s death in March 2025 — a claim most of us know was a blatant lie.

That lie set off a firestorm. In response, Nick Fuentes dropped a two-part viral series on Rumble, calling out Tucker for being dishonest and, more importantly, for not pushing far enough on certain topics. Fuentes argues there are clear lines Tucker won’t cross — and those lines shape what millions of people get to hear.

Whether you agree with Fuentes or not, this public clash is rare. Usually, these kinds of disputes stay behind the scenes or get smoothed over. But this time, it’s happening in front of us, giving the audience a rare look at the invisible boundaries of public discourse — the unspoken rules about what topics are “safe” and which ones are off limits.

Once you notice those lines, it’s natural to ask: who drew them? And why?

If you want to see the full exchange and judge for yourself, Nick Fuentes’ two-part response is available on Rumble:

Watching these gives a clearer picture of why this clash has grabbed so much attention and why the boundaries of public discourse matter now more than ever.


Now, this ties into something I’ve been noticing from some corners of the conversation: people who’ve moved away from Protestant Church and embraced Orthodox Christianity, rightly pushing back against things like Zionism and dispensationalism.

On our last episode, I talked about how it’s not just dispensationalism or the Schofield Bible fueling this whole machine — it’s that Christianity itself is built on Jewish roots.

“Inside ever Christian is a Jew” —Pope Francis (June 16, 2014)

Reading from The Jesus Hoax:

Consider, first of all, the ancient origins of Judaism and the corresponding events of the Old Testament (OT) otherwise known as the Jewish (or Hebrew Bible). The original Patriarch, Abraham, (originally called ‘Abram’—strange how so many people in the Bible have two names), allegedly lived sometime between 1800 and 1500 BC; he was the traditional father of not only Judaism and thus Christianity but centuries later, of Islam as well. Thus, one sometimes reads that Judaism, Christianity and Islam are all viewed as the “Abrahamic” religions.

Simply put: Christians believe in a Jewish God, read Jewish Scriptures, and worship a Jewish rabbi. If you take those origin stories as literal history, you’re often reinforcing the very narratives that prop up modern Zionism.

But here’s where my beef 🥩comes in: In a recent clip, one such voice claimed that Jesus wasn’t really a Jew — just ‘an Israelite from Judah’ — as if that somehow changes His identity or the core of the faith. Here is the clip:

That’s a common but misleading narrative.

Reading from The Jesus Hoax:

What’s in a Name: Hebrew, Israelite or Jew?

This is a good point to take a short detour to explain some very relevant terminology Much confusion exists around three apparently interchangeable terms Hebrew Israelite and Jew. In the book of Genesis 14:13 Abram/Abraham is the first referred to as the “Hebrew”—a term of ambiguous origin and no clear meaning. Regardless, Abraham was the original “Hebrew”, and this designation came to be attached to his son Isaac (but not Ishmael) and to Isaac’s son Jacob (but not Esau) and to Jacob’s 12th sons and their descendants—all of whom would be called “Hebrews”

The term “Israel” as noted above, has been in existence since at least 1200 BC. In Hebrew language, “Israel” means ‘he who strives with God’, and thus is a term of honor. It first appears in the BIble in Genesis 32:28 when Jacob is renamed Israel. Therefore, Jacob and his 12 sons and all their heirs are called Israelites.

But what about ‘Jew’? We See above that one of Jacob’s 12 sons was Judah-or in Hebrew, Jehudah. Judah was Jacob/Israel’s 4th son, but as it turns out, the first three (Reuben, Simeon and Levi) ended up in his disfavor and so Judah takes a leading role. Speaking to his sons, Jacob says: Genesis 49:10

8 Judah,b your brothers shall praise you.

Your hand shall be on the necks of your enemies;

your father’s sons shall bow down to you.

9Judah is a young lion—

my son, you return from the prey.

Like a lion he crouches and lies down;

like a lioness, who dares to rouse him?

10The scepter will not depart from Judah,

nor the staff from between his feet,c

until Shilohd comes

This idea that Jesus wasn’t a Jew feels more like a way to cope or sidestep with the uncomfortable historical and theological realities than a true insight. And it’s important to recognize when narratives intended to clarify actually end up muddying the waters…..

Any case, as the 12 tribes and their descendants became established in Palestine, the 10 northern-most tribes became known as ‘Israel’ and the southern-most two, as ‘Judah.’ At some point, the ‘man of Judah’ or descendant of Judah’ became a Yehudia Jew.

After the Babylonian exile and return (597 to 538 BC), the 12 tribes became known collectively as both ‘Israel’ and ‘men of Judah’ or Yehu-dim. We see a variation on this term appear on a coin minted around 120 BC, with the word Hayehudim (“of Judah” or “of the Jews”). Yehudi, or plural Yehudim, appear several times in the OT; typically this is translated into English as ‘Jew’ or ‘Jews’., although sometimes as ‘man of Judah’

The first appearance is in 2 Kings (16:6 and 25:25), and then several times later in Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Jeremiah, Daniel (twice), and Zecharia (8:23). ‘Jew’ is not in the first five books (Pentateuch) like He-brew’ and ‘Israel’ are, which suggests that it is not quite as ancient within Jewish culture; but still, its presence throughout the remainder of the OT shows its importance to the Jewish authors, who, of course, were writing strictly to a Jewish audience. When Jews were writing to their fellow Jews, they had no compunction about using the word ‘Jew.’

As the OT spread into Greek and (later) Latin culture, Yehudi became translated as Ioudaios and Iudaeus, respectively. The Latin term lost its ‘d’ when moving into the region of modern-day France, and the people there created a contracted version, giu. This then worked its way into Old English around the year 1000, where it took a variety of forms:

Gyu, Giu, lew, luu, and so on. By the late 1300s, Chaucer was using the word Jewes. And by the late 1500s, playwrights like Marlowe and Shakespeare were writing, simply, ‘Jews.’

So, the 12 tribes became the nation of Israel, but after exile and time, the term “Jew” came to specifically mean someone from the tribe of Judah or the people of that southern kingdom.


Let’s set the record straight: The Orthodox tradition affirms that Jesus was Jewish by both lineage and practice. For example, the OrthodoxWiki notes that Jesus is the Messiah prophesied by Jewish prophets, and the Gospel of Matthew is written especially for a Jewish audience, emphasizing His fulfillment of Jewish prophecy.

The Orthodox Church in America points out that Jesus was the long-awaited Jewish Messiah, who lived fully within the Jewish covenant community — even though some of His contemporaries refused to recognize Him as such. Orthodox catechism reminds us that Jesus’ divine incarnation took place in a fully human, Jewish context.

Historical records in the Gospels show Jesus was born of the tribe of Judah, descended from David, circumcised according to Jewish law, and faithfully observed Jewish festivals and customs. He taught in synagogues and affirmed the Torah and the Prophets (Luke 4:16; John 7:2, 10; Matthew 5:17–18).

That’s why I’m bringing on Dr. David Skrbina, author of The Jesus Hoax, in an upcoming episode. Because when you start questioning who Jesus really was — beyond the narratives handed down or pushed by certain agendas — you begin to see how much history, theology, and culture have been carefully shaped. And as with political power and media, the truth often lives just beyond the boundaries we’re allowed to explore.

Why This Moment Matters

This isn’t just about one book, or two media figures, or a particular platform. It’s a rare opening — a crack in the matrix — that lets us see where conversation gets shut down, and maybe even push those limits back.

Agree or disagree with Piper, Fuentes, or Carlson… that’s your right. But the bigger question remains: who decides what’s okay to say? And if those decisions are made without our awareness, how free are we really?

That question feels especially urgent today, as laws around hate speech and anti-Semitism shape what can be discussed publicly — in ways that limit honest dialogue. Efforts like DEI programs aimed at protecting Jewish students completely contradict how most conservatives feel about identity politics.

My hope is that we take this moment seriously. We stop treating these boundaries as natural or unchangeable. We start asking who benefits from keeping the conversation so tightly controlled — and whether that control is helping or harming our society.

Because once you see where the conversation ends, you realize how much more there is beyond — and often, that’s where the truth really lives.

Sacred or Strategic? Rethinking the Christian Origin Story

The Bible Isn’t History and Trump Isn’t Your Savior

It’s Been a Minute… Let’s Get Real

Hey Hey, welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays! it’s been over a month since my last episode, and wow—a lot has happened. Honestly, I’ve been doing some serious soul-searching and education, especially around some political events that shook me up.

I was firmly against Trump’s strikes on Iran. And the more I dug in, the more I realized how blind I’d been completely uneducated and ignorant about the massive political power Zionism holds in this country. And it’s clear now: Trump is practically bent over the Oval Office for Netanyahu. The Epstein files cover-up only confirms that blackmail and shadow control are the real puppet strings pulling at the highest levels of power. Our nation has been quietly occupied since Lyndon B. Johnson’s presidency and that’s a whole other episode I’ll get into later.

But what really cracked something in me was this:

In the 1990s, Trump sponsored Elite’s “Look of the Year” contest—a glitzy, global modeling search that lured teenage girls with promises of fame and fashion contracts. Behind the scenes, it was a trafficking operation. According to The Guardian’s Lucy Osborne and the BBC documentary Scouting For Girls: Fashion’s Darkest Secret, these girls weren’t being scouted—they were being sold to rich businessmen.

This wasn’t just proximity. Trump was part of it.

Once I saw that, the religious right’s worship of him stopped looking like misguided patriotism and started looking like mass delusion. Or complicity. Either way, I couldn’t unsee it.

And that’s when I started asking the bigger questions: What else have we mistaken for holy? What else have we accepted as truth without scrutiny?

For now, I want to cut to the heart of the matter: the major problem at the root of so much chaos: the fact that millions of Christians still believe the Bible is a literal historical document.

This belief doesn’t just distort faith-it fuels political agendas, end-times obsession, and yes, even foreign policy disasters. So, let’s dig into where this all began, how it’s evolved, and why it’s time we rethink everything we thought we knew about Scripture.

Thanks for reading Taste of Truth! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

For most Christians, the Bible is more than a book-it’s the blueprint of reality, the inspired Word of God, infallible and untouchable. But what if that belief wasn’t original to Christianity? What if it was a reaction…. a strategic response to modern doubt, historical criticism, and the crumbling authority of the Church?

In this episode, we’re pulling back the veil on the doctrine of biblical inerrancy, the rise of dispensationalism, and the strange marriage of American politics and prophetic obsession. From the Scofield Bible to the belief that modern-day Israel is a fulfillment of God’s plan, we’re asking hard questions about the origins of these ideas.

As Dr. Mark Gregory Karris said when he joined us on a previous episode: “Can you imagine two different families? One, the Bible is the absolute inerrant word of God every.Word, every jot and title, so to speak, is meant to be in there due to the inspiration of God. And so every story you read, you know, God killing Egyptian babies and God flooding the entire planet and thinking, well yeah, there’s gonna be babies gasping for air and drowning grandmothers and all these animals. And that is seen as absolute objective truth. But then in another family, oh, these are, these are myths. These are sacred myths that people can learn from. No, that wasn’t like God speaking and smiting them and burning them alive because they touch this particular arc or now that this is how they thought given their minds at the time, given their understandings of and then like you talked about oh look at that aspect of humanity interesting that they portrayed god and not like it becomes like wow that’s cool instead of like oh my gosh i need 3-4 years of therapy because I was taught the bible in a particular way.”

Once you trace these doctrines back to their roots, it’s not divine revelation you find: it’s human agendas.

Let’s get uncomfortable. Was your faith formed by sacred truth… or centuries of strategic storytelling?

How Literalism Took Over

In the 19th century, biblical literalism became a kind of ideological panic room. As science, archaeology, and critical scholarship began to chip away at traditional interpretations, conservative Christians doubled down. Instead of exploring the Bible as a complex, layered anthology full of metaphor, moral instruction, and mythology, they started treating it like a divine press release. Every word had to be accurate. Every timeline had to match. Every contradiction had to be “harmonized” away.

The Myth of Inerrancy

One of the most destructive byproducts of this era was the invention of biblical inerrancy. Yes, invention. The idea that the Bible is “without error in all that it affirms” isn’t ancient…. it’s theological propaganda, most notably pushed by B.B. Warfield and his peers at Princeton. Rogers and McKim wrote extensively about how this doctrine was manufactured and not handed down from the apostles as many assume. We dive deeper into all that—here.

Inerrancy teaches that the Bible is flawless, even in its historical, scientific, and moral claims. But this belief falls apart under even basic scrutiny. Manuscripts don’t agree. Archaeological timelines conflict with biblical ones. The Gospels contradict each other. And yet this doctrine persists, warping believers’ understanding and demanding blind loyalty to texts written by fallible people in vastly different cultures.

That’s the danger of biblical inerrancy: it treats every verse as historical journalism rather than layered myth, metaphor, or moral instruction. But what happens when you apply that literalist lens to ancient origin stories?

📖 “Read as mythology, the various stories of the great deluge have considerable cultural value, but taken as history, they are asinine and absurd.” — John G. Jackson, Christianity Before Christ

And yet, this is the foundation of belief for millions who think Noah’s Ark was a literal boat and not a borrowed flood myth passed down and reshaped across Mesopotamian cultures. This flattening of myth into fact doesn’t just ruin the poetry-it fuels bad politics, end-times obsession, and yes… Zionism.

And just to be clear, early Christians didn’t read the Bible this way. That kind of rigid literalism didn’t emerge until centuries later…long after the apostles were gone. We’ll get to that.

When we cling to inerrancy, we’re not preserving truth. We’re missing it entirely.

Enter: Premillennial Dispensationalism

If biblical inerrancy was the fuel, C.I. Scofield’s 1909 annotated Bible was the match. His work made premillennial dispensationalism a household belief in evangelical churches. For those unfamiliar with the term, here’s a quick breakdown:

  • Premillennialism: Jesus will return before a literal thousand-year reign of peace.
  • Dispensationalism: History is divided into distinct eras (or “dispensations”) in which God interacts with humanity differently.

When merged, this theology suggests we’re living in the “Church Age,” which will end with the rapture. Then comes a seven-year tribulation, the rise of the Antichrist, and finally, Jesus returns for the ultimate battle after which He’ll rule Earth for a millennium. Sounds like the plot of a dystopian film, right? And yet, this became the dominant lens through which American evangelicals interpret reality.

The result? A strange alliance between American evangelicals and Zionist nationalism. You get politicians quoting Revelation like it’s foreign policy, pastors fundraising for military aid, and millions of Christians cheering on war in the Middle East because they think it’ll speed up Jesus’ return.

But here’s what I want you to take away from this episode today: none of this works unless you believe the Bible is literal, infallible, and historically airtight.

How This Shaped Evangelical Culture and Politics

The Scofield Bible didn’t just change theology. It changed culture. Dispensationalist doctrine seeped into seminaries like Dallas Theological Seminary and Moody Bible Institute, influencing generations of pastors. It also exploded into popular culture through Hal Lindsey’s The Late Great Planet Earth and the Left Behind series. Fiction, prophecy, and fear blurred into one big spiritual panic attack.

But perhaps the most alarming shift came in the political realm. Dispensationalist belief heavily influences evangelical support for the modern state of Israel. Why? Because many believe Israel’s 1948 founding was a prophetic event. Figures like Jerry Falwell turned theology into foreign policy. His organization, the Moral Majority, was built on an unwavering belief that supporting Israel was part of God’s plan. Falwell didn’t just preach this, he traveled to Israel, funded by its government, and made pro-Israel advocacy a cornerstone of evangelical identity.

This alignment between theology and geopolitics hasn’t faded. In the 2024 election cycle, evangelical leaders ranked support for Israel on par with anti-abortion stances. Ralph Reed, founder of the Faith and Freedom Coalition, explicitly said as much. Donald Trump even quipped that “Christians love Israel more than Jews.” Whether that’s true or not, it reveals just how deep this belief system runs.

And the propaganda doesn’t stop there…currently Israel’s Foreign Ministry is funding a week-long visit for 16 prominent young influencers aligned with Donald Trump’s MAGA and America First movements, part of an ambitious campaign to reshape Israel’s image among American youth.

But Let’s Talk About the Red Flags

This isn’t just about belief-it’s about control. Dispensationalist theology offers a simple, cosmic narrative: you’re on God’s winning team, the world is evil, and the end is near. There’s no room for nuance, no time for doubt. Just stay loyal, and you’ll be saved.

This thinking pattern isn’t exclusive to Christianity. You’ll find it in MLMs, and some conspiracy theory communities. The recipe is the same: create an in-group with secret knowledge, dangle promises of salvation or success, and paint outsiders as corrupt or deceived. It’s classic manipulation-emotional coercion wrapped in spiritual language.

And let’s not forget the date-setting obsession. Hal Lindsey made a career out of it. People still point to blood moons, earthquakes, and global politics as “proof” that prophecy is unfolding. If you’ve ever been trapped in that mindset, you know how addictive and anxiety-inducing it can be.

BY THE WAY, it’s not just dispensationalism or the Scofield Bible that fuels modern Zionism. The deeper issue is, if you believe the Bible is historically accurate and divinely orchestrated, you’re still feeding the ideological engine of Zionism. Because at its core, Christianity reveres Jewish texts, upholds Jewish chosenness, and worships a Jewish messiah. That’s not neutrality it’s alignment.

If this idea intrigued you, you’re not alone. There’s a growing body of work unpacking how Christianity’s very framework serves Jewish supremacy, whether intentionally or not. For deeper dives, check out Adam Green’s work over at Know More News on Rumble, and consider reading The Jesus Hoax: How St. Paul’s Cabal Fooled the World for Two Thousand Years. You don’t have to agree with everything to realize: the story you were handed might not be sacred it might be strategic.

Why This Matters for Deconstruction

For me, one of the most painful parts of deconstruction was realizing I’d been sold a false bill of goods. I was told the Bible was the infallible word of God. That it held all the answers. That doubt was dangerous. But when I began asking real questions, the entire system started to crack.

The doctrine of inerrancy didn’t deepen my faith… it limited it. It kept me from exploring the Bible’s human elements: its contradictions, its cultural baggage, and its genuine beauty. The truth is that these texts were written by people trying to make sense of their world and their experiences with the divine. They are not divine themselves.

Modern Scholarship Breaks the Spell

Modern biblical scholarship has long since moved away from the idea of inerrancy. When you put aside faith-based apologetics and look honestly at the evidence, the traditional claims unravel quickly:

  • Moses didn’t write the Torah. Instead, the Pentateuch was compiled over centuries by multiple authors, each with their own theological agendas (see the JEDP theory).
  • King David is likely a mythic figure. Outside of the Bible, there’s no solid evidence he actually existed, much less ruled a vast kingdom.
  • The Gospels weren’t written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Those names were added later. The original texts are anonymous and they often contradict each other.
  • John didn’t write Revelation. Not the Apostle John, anyway. The Greek and style are completely different from the Gospel of John. The real author was probably some unknown apocalyptic mystic on Patmos, writing during Roman persecution.

And yet millions still cling to these stories as literal fact, building entire belief systems and foreign policies on myths and fairy tales.


🧠 Intellectual Starvation in Evangelicalism

Here’s the deeper scandal: it’s not just that foundational Christian stories crumble under modern scrutiny. It’s that the church never really wanted you to think critically in the first place.

Mark Noll, a respected evangelical historian, didn’t mince words when he wrote:

“The scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is not much of an evangelical mind.”

In The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind, Noll traces how American evangelicalism lost its intellectual life. It wasn’t shaped by a pursuit of truth, but by populist revivalism, emotionalism, and a hyper-literal obsession with “the end times.” The same movements that embraced dispensationalism and biblical inerrancy also gutted their communities of academic rigor, curiosity, and serious theological reflection.

The result? A spiritually frantic but intellectually hollow faith—one that discourages questions, mistrusts scholarship, and fears nuance like it’s heresy.

Noll shows that instead of grappling with ambiguity or cultural complexity, evangelicals often default to reactionary postures. This isn’t just a relic of the past. It’s why so many modern Christians cling to false authorship claims, deny historical context, and accept prophecy as geopolitical fact. It’s why Revelation gets quoted to justify Zionist foreign policy without ever asking who actually wrote the book or when, or why.

This anti-intellectualism isn’t an accident. It was baked in from the start.

But Noll doesn’t leave us hopeless. He offers a call forward: for a faith that engages the world with both heart and mind. A faith that can live with tension, welcome complexity, and evolve beyond fear-driven literalism.

What Did the Early Church Actually Think About Scripture?

Here’s what gets lost in modern evangelical retellings: the earliest Christians didn’t treat Scripture the way today’s inerrantists do.

For the first few centuries, Christians didn’t even have a finalized Bible. There were letters passed around, oral traditions, a few widely recognized Gospels, and a whole lot of discussion about what counted as authoritative. It wasn’t until the fourth century that anything close to our current canon was even solidified. And even then, it wasn’t set in stone across all branches of Christianity.

Church fathers like Origen, Clement of Alexandria, and Irenaeus viewed Scripture as spiritually inspired but full of metaphor and mystery. They weren’t demanding literal accuracy; they were mining the texts for deeper meanings. Allegory was considered a legitimate, even necessary, interpretive method. Scripture was read devotionally and theologically, not scientifically or historically. In other words, it wasn’t inerrancy that defined early Christian engagement with Scripture, it was curiosity and contemplation.

For a deeper dive, check out The Gnostic Informant’s incredible documentary that uncovers the first hundred years of Christianity, a period that has been systematically lied about and rewritten. It reveals how much of what we take for granted was shaped by political and theological agendas far removed from the original followers of Jesus.

If you’re serious about understanding the roots of your faith or just curious about how history gets reshaped, this documentary is essential viewing. It’s a reminder that truth often hides in plain sight and that digging beneath the surface is how we reclaim our own understanding.

Protestantism: A Heretical Offshoot Disguised as Tradition

The Protestant Reformation shook things up in undeniable ways. Reformers like Martin Luther and John Calvin challenged the Catholic Church’s abuses and rightly demanded reform. But what’s often missed (or swept under the rug) is how deeply Protestantism broke with the ancient, historic Church.

By insisting on sola scriptura—Scripture alone—as the sole authority, the Reformers rejected centuries of Church tradition, councils, and lived community discernment that shaped orthodox belief. They didn’t invent biblical inerrancy as we know it today, but their elevation of the Bible above all else cracked the door wide open for literalism and fundamentalism to storm in.

What began as a corrective movement turned into a theological minefield. Today, Protestantism isn’t a single coherent tradition; it’s a sprawling forest of over 45,000 different denominations, all claiming exclusive access to “the truth.”

This fragmentation isn’t accidental…. it’s the logical outcome of rejecting historic continuity and embracing personal interpretation as the final authority.

Far from preserving the faith of the ancient Church, Protestantism represents a fractured offshoot: one that often contradicts the early Church’s beliefs and teachings. It trades the richness of lived tradition and community wisdom for a rigid, literalistic, and competitive approach to Scripture.

The 20th century saw this rigid framework perfected into a polished doctrine demanding total conformity and punishing doubt. Protestant fundamentalism turned into an ideological fortress, where questioning is treated as betrayal, and theological nuance is replaced by black-and-white dogma.

If you want to understand where so much of modern evangelical rigidity and end-times obsession comes from, look no further than this fractured legacy. Protestantism’s break with the ancient Church set the stage for the spiritual and intellectual starvation that Mark Noll so powerfully exposes.

Rethinking the Bible

Seeing the Bible as a collection of human writings about God rather than the literal word from God opens up space for critical thinking and compassion. It allows us to:

  • Study historical context and cultural influences.
  • Embrace the diversity of perspectives in Scripture.
  • Let go of rigid interpretations and seek core messages like love, justice, and humility.
  • Move away from proof-texting and toward spiritual growth.
  • Reconcile faith with science, reason, and modern ethics.

When we stop demanding that the Bible be perfect, we can finally appreciate what it actually is: a complex, messy, beautiful attempt by humans to understand the sacred.

This shift doesn’t weaken faith…. I believe it strengthens it.

It moves us away from dogma disguised as certainty and into something deeper…. something alive. It opens the door for real relationship, not just with the divine, but with each other. It makes space for growth, for disagreement, for honesty.

And in a world tearing itself apart over whose version of truth gets to rule, that kind of open-hearted spirituality isn’t just refreshing-it’s essential.

Because if your faith can’t stand up to questions, history, or accountability… maybe it was never built on truth to begin with.

Let’s stop worshiping the paper and start seeking the presence.

🔎 Resources Worth Exploring:

  • “The Jesus Hoax: How St. Paul’s Cabal Fooled the World for Two Thousand Years” by David Skrbina
  • “Christianity Before Christ” by John G. Jackson
  • The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind” by Mark Noll – A scathing but sincere critique from within the evangelical tradition itself. Noll exposes how anti-intellectualism, biblical literalism, and cultural isolationism have gutted American Christianity’s ability to engage the world honestly.
  • Check out Adam Green’s work at Know More News on Rumble for more on the political and mythological implications of Christian Zionism
  • And don’t miss my interview with Dr. Mark Gregory Karris, author of The Diabolical Trinity: Wrathful God, Sinful Self, and Eternal Hell, where we dive deep into the psychological damage caused by toxic theology

Beneath the White Coats: Psychiatry, Eugenics, and the Forgotten Graves

Dogma in a Lab Coat

We like to believe science is self-correcting—that data drives discovery, that good ideas rise, and bad ones fall. But when it comes to mental health, modern society is still tethered to a deeply flawed framework—one that pathologizes human experience, medicalizes distress, and often does more harm than good.

Psychiatry has long promised progress, yet history tells a different story. From outdated treatments like bloodletting to today’s overprescription of SSRIs, we’ve traded one form of blind faith for another. These drugs—still experimental in many respects—carry serious risks, yet are handed out at staggering rates. And rather than healing root causes, they often reinforce a narrative of victimhood and chronic dysfunction.

The pharmaceutical industry now drives diagnosis rates, shaping public perception and clinical practice in ways that few understand. What’s marketed as care is often a system of control. In this episode, we revisit the dangers of consensus-driven science—how it silences dissent and rewards conformity.

Because science, like religion or politics, can become dogma. Paradigms harden. Institutions protect their power. And the costs are human lives.

But beneath this entire structure lies a deeper, more uncomfortable question—one we rarely ask:

What does it mean to be a person?

Are we just bodies and brains—repairable, programmable, replaceable? Or is there something more?

Is consciousness a glitch of chemistry, or is it a window into the soul?

Modern psychiatry doesn’t just treat symptoms—it defines the boundaries of personhood. It tells us who counts, who’s disordered, who can be trusted with autonomy—and who can’t.

But what if those definitions are wrong?

We’ve talked before about the risks of unquestioned paradigms—how ideas become dogma, and dogma becomes control. In a past episode, How Dogma Limits Progress in Fitness, Nutrition, and Spirituality, we explored Rupert Sheldrake’s challenge to the dominant scientific worldview—his argument that science itself had become a belief system, closing itself off to dissent. TED removed that talk, calling it “pseudoscience.” But many saw it as an attempt to protect the status quo—the high priests of data and empiricism silencing heresy in the name of progress. We will revisit his work later on in our conversation. 

We’ve also discussed how science, more than politics or religion, is often weaponized to control behavior, shape belief, and reinforce social hierarchies. And in a recent Taste Test Thursday episode, we dug into how the industrial food system was shaped not just by profit but by ideology—driven by a merger of science and faith.

To read more:

This framework—that science is never truly neutral—becomes especially chilling when you look at the history of psychiatry.

To begin this conversation, we’re going back—not to Freud or Prozac, but further. To the roots of American psychiatry. To two early figures—John Galt and Benjamin Rush—whose ideas helped define the trajectory of an entire field. What we find there presents a choice: a path toward genuine hope, or a legacy of continued harm.

This  story takes us into the forgotten corners of that history, a place where “normal” and “abnormal” were declared not by discovery, but by decree.

Clinical psychiatrist Paul Minot put it plainly:

“Psychiatry is so ashamed of its history that it has deleted much of it.”

And for good reason.

Psychiatry’s early roots weren’t just tangled with bad science—they were soaked in ideology. What passed for “treatment” was often social control, justified through a veneer of medical language. Institutions were built not to heal, but to hide. Lives were labeled defective. 

We would like to think that medicine is objective, that the white coat stands for healing. But behind those coats was a mission to save society from the so-called “abnormal.”
But who defined normal?
And who paid the price?


The Forgotten Legacy of Dr. John Galt

Lithograph, “Virginia Lunatic Asylum at Williamsburg, Va.” by Thomas Charles Millington, ca.1845. Block & Building Files – Public Hospital, Block 04, Box 07. Image citation: D2018-COPY-1104-001. Special Collections.

Long before DSM codes and Big Pharma, the first freestanding mental hospital  in America called Eastern Lunatic Asylum opened its doors in 1773—just down the road from where I live, in Williamsburg, Virginia. Though officially declared a hospital, it was commonly known as “The Madhouse.” For most who entered, institutionalization meant isolation, dehumanization, and often treatment worse than what was afforded to livestock. Mental illness was framed as a threat to the social order—those deemed “abnormal” were removed from society and punished in the name of care.

But one man dared to imagine something different.

Dr. John Galt II, appointed as the first medical superintendent of the hospital (later known as Eastern State), came from a family of alienists—an old-fashioned term for early psychiatrists. The word comes from the Latin alienus, meaning “other” or “stranger,” and referred to those considered mentally “alienated” from themselves or society. Today, of course, the word alien has taken on very different connotations—especially in the heated political debates over immigration. It’s worth clarifying: the historical use of alienist had nothing to do with immigration or nationality. It was a clinical label tied to 19th-century psychiatry, not race or citizenship. But like many terms, it’s often misunderstood or manipulated in modern discourse.

Galt, notably, broke with the harsh legacy of many alienists of his time. Inspired by French psychiatrist Philippe Pinel—often credited as the first true psychiatrist—Galt embraced a radically compassionate model known as moral therapy. Where others saw madness as a threat to be controlled, Galt saw suffering that could be soothed. He believed the mentally ill deserved dignity, freedom, and individualized care—not chains or punishment. He refused to segregate patients by race. He treated enslaved people alongside the free. And he opposed the rising belief—already popular among his fellow psychiatrists—that madness was simply inherited, and the mad were unworthy of full personhood.

Credit: The Valentine
Original Author: Cook Collection
Created: Late nineteenth to early twentieth century

Rather than seeing madness as a biological defect to be subdued or “cured,” Galt and Pinel viewed it as a crisis of the soul. Their methods rejected medical manipulation and instead focused on restoring dignity. They believed that those struggling with mental affliction should be treated not as deviants but as ordinary people, worthy of love, freedom, and respect.

Dr. Marshall Ledger, founder and editor of Penn Medicine, once quoted historian Nancy Tomes to summarize this period:

“Medical science in this period contributed to the understanding of mental illness, but patient care improved less because of any medical advance than because of one simple factor: Christian charity and common sense.”

Galt’s asylum was one of the only institutions in the United States to treat enslaved people and free Black patients equally—and even to employ them as caregivers. He insisted that every person, regardless of race, had a soul of equal moral worth. His belief in equality and metaphysical healing put him at odds with nearly every other psychiatrist of his time.

And he paid the price.

The psychiatric establishment, closely allied with state power and emerging medical-industrial interests, rejected his human-centered model. Most psychiatrists of the era endorsed slavery and upheld racist pseudoscience. The prevailing consensus was rooted in hereditary determinism—that madness and criminality were genetically transmitted, particularly among the “unfit.”

This growing belief—that mental illness was a biological flaw to be medically managed—was not just a scientific view, but an ideological one. Had Galt’s model of moral therapy been embraced more broadly, it would have undermined the growing assumption that biology and state-run institutions offered the only path to sanity. It would have challenged the idea that human suffering could—and should—be controlled by external authorities.

Instead, psychiatry aligned with power.

Moral therapy was quietly abandoned. And the field moved steadily toward the medicalized, racialized, and state-controlled version of mental health that would pave the way for both eugenics and the modern pharmaceutical regime.

“The Father of American Psychiatry”

Long before Auschwitz. Long before the Eugenics Record Office. Long before sterilization laws and IQ tests, there was Dr. Benjamin Rush—signer of the Declaration of Independence, founder of the first American medical school, and the man still honored as the “father of American psychiatry.” His portrait hangs today in the headquarters of the American Psychiatric Association.

Though many historians point to Francis Galton as the father of eugenics, it was Rush—nearly a century earlier—who laid much of the ideological groundwork. He argued that mental illness was biologically determined and hereditary. And he didn’t stop there.

Rush infamously diagnosed Blackness itself as a form of disease—what he called “negritude.” He theorized that Black people suffered from a kind of leprosy, and that their skin color and behavior could, in theory, be “cured.” He also tied criminality, alcoholism, and madness to inherited degeneracy, particularly among poor and non-white populations.

These ideas found a troubling ally in Charles Darwin’s emerging theories of evolution and heredity. While Darwin’s work revolutionized biology, it was often misused to justify racist notions of racial hierarchy and biological determinism.

Rush’s medical theories were mainstream and deeply influential, shaping generations of physicians and psychiatrists. Together, these ideas reinforced the belief that social deviance and mental illness were rooted in faulty bloodlines—pseudoscientific reasoning that provided a veneer of legitimacy to racism and social control within medicine and psychiatry.

The tragic irony? While Rush advocated for the humane treatment of the mentally ill in certain respects, his racial theories helped pave the way for the pathologizing of entire populations—a mindset that would fuel both American and European eugenics movements in the next century.

American Eugenics: The Soil Psychiatry Grew From

Before Hitler, there was Cold Spring Harbor. Founded in 1910, the Eugenics Record Office (ERO) operated out of Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory in New York with major funding from the Carnegie Institution, later joined by Rockefeller Foundation money. It became the central hub for American eugenic research, gathering family pedigrees to trace so-called hereditary defects like “feeblemindedness,” “criminality,” and “pauperism.”

Between the early 1900s and 1970s, over 30 U.S. states passed forced sterilization laws targeting tens of thousands of people deemed unfit to reproduce. The justification? Traits like alcoholism, poverty, promiscuity, deafness, blindness, low IQ, and mental illness were cast as genetic liabilities that threatened the health of the nation.

The practice was upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1927 in the infamous case of Buck v. Bell. In an 8–1 decision, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. wrote, “Three generations of imbeciles are enough,” greenlighting the sterilization of 18-year-old Carrie Buck, a young woman institutionalized for being “feebleminded”—a label also applied to her mother and child. The ruling led to an estimated 60,000+ sterilizations across the U.S.

And yes—those sterilizations disproportionately targeted African American, Native American, and Latina women, often without informed consent. In North Carolina alone, Black women made up nearly 65% of sterilizations by the 1960s, despite being a much smaller share of the population.

Eugenics wasn’t a fringe pseudoscience. It was mainstream policy—supported by elite universities, philanthropists, politicians, and the medical establishment.

And psychiatry was its institutional partner.

The American Journal of Psychiatry published favorable discussions of sterilization and even euthanasia for the mentally ill as early as the 1930s. American psychiatrists traveled to Nazi Germany to observe and advise, and German doctors openly cited U.S. laws and scholarship as inspiration for their own racial hygiene programs.

In some cases, the United States led—and Nazi Germany followed.

The International Congress of Eugenics’ Logo 1921

This isn’t conspiracy. It’s history. Documented, peer-reviewed, and disturbingly overlooked.


From Ideology to Institution

By the early 20th century, the groundwork had been laid. Psychiatry had evolved from a fringe field rooted in speculation and racial ideology into a powerful institutional force—backed by universities, governments, and the courts. But its foundation was still deeply compromised. What had begun with Benjamin Rush’s biologically deterministic theories and America’s eugenic policies now matured into a formalized doctrine—one that treated human suffering not as a relational or spiritual crisis, but as a defect to be categorized, corrected, or eliminated.

This is where the five core doctrines of modern psychiatry emerge.

The Five Doctrines That Shaped Modern Psychiatry

These five doctrines weren’t abandoned after World War II. They were rebranded, exported, and quietly absorbed into the foundations of American psychiatry.

1. The Elimination of Subjectivity

Patients were no longer seen as people with stories, pain, or meaning—they were seen as bundles of symptoms. Suffering was abstracted into clinical checklists. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) became the gold standard, not because it offered clear science, but because it offered utility: a standardized language that served pharmaceutical companies, insurance billing, and bureaucratic control. If you could name it, you could code it—and medicate it.

2. The Eradication of Spiritual and Moral Meaning

Struggles once understood through relational, existential, or moral frameworks were stripped of depth. Grief became depression. Anger became oppositional defiance. Existential despair was reduced to a neurotransmitter imbalance. The soul was erased from the conversation. As Berger notes, suffering was no longer something to be witnessed or explored—it became something to be treated, as quickly and quietly as possible.

3. Biological Determinism

Mental illness was redefined as the inevitable result of faulty genes or broken brain chemistry—even though no consistent biological markers have ever been found. The “chemical imbalance” theory, aggressively marketed throughout the late 20th century, was never scientifically validated. Yet it persists, in part because it sells. Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs)—still widely prescribed—were promoted on this flawed premise, despite studies showing they often perform no better than placebo and come with serious side effects, including emotional blunting, dependence, and sexual dysfunction.

4. Population Control and Racial Hygiene

In Germany, this meant sterilizing and exterminating those labeled “life unworthy of life.” In the U.S., it meant forced sterilizations of African-American and Native American women, institutionalizing the poor, the disabled, and the nonconforming. These weren’t fringe policies—they were mainstream, upheld by law and supported by leading psychiatrists and journals. Even today, disproportionate diagnoses in communities of color, coercive treatments in prisons and state hospitals, and medicalization of poverty reflect these same logics of control.

5. The Use of Institutions for Social Order

Hospitals became tools for enforcing conformity. Psychiatry wasn’t just about healing—it was about managing the unmanageable, quieting the inconvenient, and keeping society orderly. From lobotomies to electroshock therapy to modern-day involuntary holds, psychiatry has long straddled the line between medicine and discipline. Coercive treatment continues under new names: community treatment orders, chemical restraints, and state-mandated compliance.

These doctrines weren’t discarded after the fall of Nazi Germany. They were imported. Adopted. Rebranded under the guise of “evidence-based medicine” and “public health.” But the same logic persists: reduce the person, erase the context, medicalize the soul, and reinforce the system.


Letchworth Village: The Human Cost

I didn’t simply read this in a textbook. I stood there—on the edge of those woods—next to rows of numbered graves.

In 2020, while waiting to close on our New York house, my husband and I were staying in an Airbnb in Rockland County. We were walking the dogs one morning nearing the end of Call Hollow Road, there is a wide path dividing thick woodland when we came across a memorial stone:

“THOSE WHO SHALL NOT BE FORGOTTEN.”

We had stumbled upon the entrance to Old Letchworth Village Cemetery, and we instantly felt it’s somber history. Beyond it, rows of T-shaped markers each one a muted testament to the hundreds of nameless victims who perished at Letchworth. Situated just half a mile from the institution, these weathered grave markers reveal only the numbers that were once assigned to forgotten souls—a stark reminder that families once refused to let their names be known. This omission serves as a silent indictment of a system that institutionalized, dehumanized, and ultimately discarded these individuals.

When we researched the history, the truth was staggering.

Letchworth was supposed to be a progressive alternative to the horrors of 19th-century asylums. Instead, it became one of them. By the 1920s, reports described children and adults left unclothed, unbathed, overmedicated, and raped. Staff abused residents—and each other. The dormitories were overcrowded. Funding dried up. Buildings decayed.

The facility was severely overcrowded. Many residents lived in filth, unfed and unattended. Children were restrained for hours. Some were used in vaccine trials without consent. And when they died, they were buried behind the trees—nameless, marked only by small concrete stakes.

I stood among those graves. Over 900 of them. A long row of numbered markers, each representing a life once deemed unworthy of attention, of love, of dignity.

But the deeper horror is what Letchworth symbolized: the idea that certain people were better off warehoused than welcomed, that abnormality was a disease to be eradicated—not a difference to be understood.

This is the real history of psychiatric care in America.


The Problem of Purpose

But this history didn’t unfold in a vacuum. It was built on something deeper—an idea so foundational, it often goes unquestioned: that nature has no purpose. That life has no inherent meaning. That humans are complex machines—repairable, discardable, programmable.

This mechanistic worldview didn’t just shape medicine. It has shaped what we call reality itself.

As Dr. Rupert Sheldrake explains in Science Set Free, the denial of purpose in biology isn’t a scientific conclusion—it’s a philosophical assumption. Beginning in the 17th century, science removed soul and purpose from nature. Plants, animals, and human bodies were understood as nothing more than matter in motion, governed by fixed laws. No pull toward the good. No inner meaning.

By the time Darwin’s Origin of Species arrived in the 19th century 1859, this mechanistic lens was fully established. Evolution wasn’t creative—it was random. Life wasn’t guided—it was accidental.

Psychiatry, emerging in this same cultural moment, absorbed this worldview. Suffering was pathologized, difference diagnosed, and the soul reduced to faulty genetics and broken wiring.

Today, that mindset is alive in the DSM’s ever-expanding labels, in the belief that trauma is a chemical imbalance, that identity issues must be solved with hormones and surgery, and in the reflex to medicate children who don’t conform.

But what if suffering isn’t a bug in the system?

What if it’s a signal?

What if these so-called “disorders” are cries for meaning in a world that pretends meaning doesn’t exist?

The graves at Letchworth aren’t just a warning about medical abuse. They are a mirror—reflecting what happens when we forget that people are not problems to be solved, but souls to be seen.

Sheldrake writes, “The materialist denial of purpose in evolution is not based on evidence, but is an assumption.” Modern science insists all change results from random mutations and blind forces—chance and necessity. But these claims are not just about biology. They influence how we see human beings: as broken machines to be repaired or discarded.

As we said, in the 17th century, the mechanistic revolution abolished soul and purpose from nature—except in humans. But as atheism and materialism rose in the 19th century, even divine and human purpose were dismissed, replaced by the ideal of scientific “progress.” Psychiatry emerged from this philosophical soup, fueled not by reverence for the human soul but by the desire to categorize, control, and “correct” behavior—by any mechanical means necessary.

What if that assumption is wrong? What if the people we label “disordered” are responding to something real? What if our suffering has meaning—and our biology is not destiny?

“Genetics” as the New Eugenics

Today, psychiatry no longer speaks in the language of race hygiene.

It speaks in the language of genes.

But the message is largely the same:

You are broken at the root.

Your biology is flawed.

And the only solution is lifelong medication—or medical intervention.

We now tell people their suffering is rooted in faulty wiring, inherited defects, or bad brain chemistry—despite decades of inconclusive or contradictory evidence.

We still medicalize behaviors that don’t conform.

We still pathologize pain that stems from trauma, poverty, or social disconnection.

We still market drugs for “chemical imbalances” that have never been biologically verified.

And we still pretend this is science—not ideology.

But as Dr. Rupert Sheldrake argues in Science Set Free, even the field of genetics rests on a fragile and often overstated foundation. In Chapter 6, he challenges one of modern biology’s core assumptions: that all heredity is purely material—that our traits, tendencies, and identities are completely locked in by our genes.

But this isn’t how people have understood inheritance for most of human history.

Long before Darwin or Mendel, breeders, farmers, and herders knew how to pass on traits. Proverbs like “like father, like son” weren’t based on lab results—they were based on generations of observation. Dogs were bred into dozens of varieties. Wild cabbage became broccoli, kale, and cauliflower. The principles of heredity weren’t discovered by science; they were named by science. They were already in practice across the world.

What Sheldrake points out is that modern biology took this folk knowledge, stripped it of its nuance, and then centralized it—until genes became the sole explanation for almost everything.

And that’s a problem.

Because genetics has been crowned the ultimate cause of everything from depression to addiction, from ADHD to schizophrenia. When the outcomes aren’t clear-cut, the answer is simply: “We haven’t mapped the genome enough yet.”

But what if the model is wrong?

What if suffering isn’t locked in our DNA?

What if genes are only part of the story—and not even the most important part?

By insisting that people are genetically flawed, psychiatry sidesteps the deeper questions:

  • What happened to you?
  • What story are you carrying?
  • What environments shaped your experience of the world?

It pathologizes people—and exonerates systems.

Instead of exploring trauma, we prescribe pills.

Instead of restoring dignity, we reduce people to diagnoses.

Instead of healing souls, we treat symptoms.

Modern genetics, like eugenics before it, promises answers. But too often, it delivers a verdict: you were born broken.

We can do better.

We must do better.

Because healing doesn’t come from blaming bloodlines or rebranding biology.

It comes from listening, loving, and refusing to reduce people to a diagnosis or a gene sequence.


The Hidden Truth About Trauma and Diagnosis

As Pete Walker references Dr. John Briere’s poignant observation: if Complex PTSD and the role of early trauma were fully acknowledged by psychiatry, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) could shrink from a massive textbook to something no larger than a simple pamphlet.

We’ve previously explored the crucial difference between PTSD and complex PTSD—topics like trauma, identity, neuroplasticity, stress, survival, and what it truly means to come home to yourself. This deeper understanding exposes a vast gap between real human experience and how mental health is often diagnosed and treated today.

Instead of addressing trauma with truth and compassion, the system expands diagnostic categories, medicalizes pain, and silences those who suffer.

The Cost of Our Silence

Many of us know someone who’s been diagnosed, hospitalized, or medicated into submission.

Some of us have been that person.

And we’re told this is progress. That this is compassion. That this is care.

But when I stood at the edge of those graves in Rockland County—row after row of anonymous markers—nothing about this history felt compassionate.

It felt buried. On purpose.

We must unearth it.

Not to deny mental suffering—but to reclaim the right to define it for ourselves.

To reimagine what healing could look like, if we dared to value dignity over diagnosis.

Because psychiatry hasn’t “saved” the abnormal.

It has often silenced, sterilized, and sacrificed them.

It has named pain as disorder.

Difference as defect.

Trauma as pathology.

The DSM is not a Bible.

The white coat is not a priesthood.

And genetics is not destiny.

We need better language, better questions, and better ways of relating to each other’s pain.

And that brings us full circle—to a man most people have never heard of: Dr. John Galt II.

Nearly 200 years ago, in Williamsburg, Virginia, Galt ran the first freestanding mental hospital in America. But unlike many of his peers, he rejected chains, cruelty, and coercion. He embraced what he called moral treatment—an approach rooted in truth, love, and human dignity. Galt didn’t see the “insane” as dangerous or defective. He saw them as souls.

He was influenced by Philippe Pinel, the French physician who famously removed shackles from asylum patients in Paris. Together, these early reformers dared to believe that healing began not with force, but with presence. With relationship. With care.

Galt refused to segregate patients by race. He treated enslaved people alongside the free. And he opposed the rising belief—already popular among his fellow psychiatrists—that madness was simply inherited, and the mad were unworthy of full personhood.

But what does it mean to recognize someone’s personhood?

Personhood is more than just being alive or having a body. It’s about being seen as a full human being with inherent dignity, moral worth, and rights—someone whose inner life, choices, and experiences matter. Recognizing personhood means acknowledging the whole person beyond any diagnosis, disability, or social status.

This question isn’t just philosophical—it’s deeply practical and contested. It’s at the heart of debates over mental health care, disability rights, euthanasia and even abortion. When does a baby become a person? When does someone with a mental illness or cognitive difference gain full moral consideration? These debates all circle back to how we define humanity itself.

In Losing Our Dignity: How Secularized Medicine Is Undermining Fundamental Human Equality, Charles C. Camosy warns that secular, mechanistic medicine can strip people down to biological parts—genes, symptoms, behaviors—rather than seeing them as full persons. This reduction risks denying people their dignity and the respect that comes with being more than the sum of their medical conditions.

Galt’s approach stood against this reduction. He saw patients as complex individuals with stories and struggles, deserving compassion and respect—not just as “cases” to be categorized or “disorders” to be fixed.

To truly recognize personhood is to honor that complexity and to affirm that every individual, regardless of race, mental health, or social status, has an equal claim to dignity and care.

But… Galt’s approach was pushed aside.

Why?

Because it didn’t serve the state.

Because it didn’t serve power.

Because it didn’t make money.

Today, we see a similar rejection of truth and compassion.

When a child in distress is told they were “born in the wrong body,” we call it gender-affirming care.

When a woman, desperate to be understood, is handed a borderline personality disorder label instead.

When medications with severe side effects are pushed as the only solution, we call it science.

But are we healing the person—or managing the symptoms?

Are we meeting the soul—or erasing it?

We’ve medicalized the human condition—and too often, we’ve called that progress.

We’ve spoken before about the damage done by Biblical counseling programs when therapy is replaced with doctrine—how evangelical frameworks often dismiss pain as rebellion, frame anger as sin, and pressure survivors into premature forgiveness.

But the secular system is often no better. A model that sees people as nothing more than biology and brain chemistry may wear a lab coat instead of a collar—but it still demands submission.

Both systems can bypass the human being in front of them.

Both can serve control over compassion.

Both can silence pain in the name of order.

What we truly need is something deeper.

To be seen.

To be heard.

To be honored in our complexity—not reduced to a diagnosis or a moral failing.

It’s time to stop.

It’s time to remember that human suffering is not a clinical flaw. It’s time to remember the metaphysical soul/psyche. 

Our emotional pain is not a chemical defect.

That being different, distressed, or deeply wounded is not a disease.

It’s time to recover the wisdom of Dr. John Galt II.

To treat those in pain—not as problems to be solved—but as people to be seen.

To offer truth and love, not labels, not sterilizing surgeries and lifelong prescriptions.

Because if we don’t, the graves will keep multiplying—quietly, behind institutions, beneath a silence we dare not disturb.

But we must disturb it.

Because they mattered.

And truth matters.

And the most powerful medicine has never been compliance or chemistry.

It’s being met with real humanity.

Being listened to. Believed.

Not pathologized. Not preached at. Not controlled.

But loved—in the deepest, most grounded sense of the word.

The kind of love that doesn’t look away.

The kind that tells the truth, even when it’s costly.

The kind that says: you are not broken—you are worth staying with.

Because to love someone like that…

is to recognize their personhood.

And maybe that’s the most radical act of all.

SOURCES:

  • “Director of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Anthropology, Human Heredity, and Eugenics from 1927 to 1942, [Eugen] Fischer authored a 1913 study of the Mischlinge (racially mixed) children of Dutch men and Hottentot women in German southwest Africa. Fischer opposed ‘racial mixing, arguing that “negro blood” was of ‘lesser value and that mixing it with ‘white blood’ would bring about the demise of European culture” (United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Deadly Medicine: Creating the Master Race,” HMM Online: https://www.ushmm.org/exhibition/deadly-medicine/ profiles/). See also, Richard C. Lewontin, Steven Rose, and Leon J. Kamin, Not in Our Genes: Biology, Ideology, and Human Nature 2nd edition (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2017), 207.
  • Gonaver, The Making of Modern Psychiatry
  • Saving Abnormal-The Disorder of Psychiatric Genetics-Daneil R Berger II
  • Lost Architecture: Eastern State Hospital – Colonial Williamsburg
  • 📘 General History of American Eugenics
    Lombardo, Paul A.
    Three Generations, No Imbeciles: Eugenics, the Supreme Court, and Buck v. Bell (2008)
    This book is the definitive account of Buck v. Bell and American eugenics law. It documents how widespread sterilizations were and provides legal and historical context.
    Black, Edwin.
    War Against the Weak: Eugenics and America’s Campaign to Create a Master Race (2003)
    Covers the U.S. eugenics movement in depth, including funding by Carnegie and Rockefeller, Cold Spring Harbor, and connections to Nazi Germany.
    Kevles, Daniel J.
    In the Name of Eugenics: Genetics and the Uses of Human Heredity (1985)
    A foundational academic history detailing how early American psychiatry and genetics were interwoven with eugenic ideology.

    🧬 Institutions & Funding
    Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory Archives
    https://www.cshl.edu
    Documents the history of the Eugenics Record Office (1910–1939), its funding by the Carnegie Institution, and its influence on U.S. and international eugenics.
    The Rockefeller Foundation Archives
    https://rockarch.org
    Shows how the foundation funded eugenics research both in the U.S. and abroad, including programs that influenced German racial hygiene policies.

    ⚖️ Sterilization Policies & Buck v. Bell
    Supreme Court Decision: Buck v. Bell, 274 U.S. 200 (1927)
    https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/274/200/
    Includes Justice Holmes’ infamous quote and the legal justification for forced sterilization.
    North Carolina Justice for Sterilization Victims Foundation
    https://www.ncdhhs.gov
    Reports the disproportionate targeting of Black women in 20th-century sterilization programs.
    Stern, Alexandra Minna.
    Eugenic Nation: Faults and Frontiers of Better Breeding in Modern America (2005)
    Explores race, sterilization, and medical ethics in eugenics programs, with data from states like California and North Carolina.

    🧠 Psychiatry’s Role & Nazi Connections
    Lifton, Robert Jay.
    The Nazi Doctors: Medical Killing and the Psychology of Genocide (1986)
    Shows how American eugenics—including psychiatric writings—helped shape Nazi ideology and policies like Aktion T-4 (the euthanasia program).
    Wahl, Otto F.
    “Eugenics, Genetics, and the Minority Group Mentality” in American Journal of Psychiatry, 1985.
    Traces how psychiatric institutions were complicit in promoting eugenic ideas.
    American Journal of Psychiatry Archives
    1920s–1930s issues include articles in support of sterilization and early euthanasia rhetoric.
    Available via https://ajp.psychiatryonline.org

The Real Handmaid’s Tale Isn’t in America

Between Liberation and Collapse: Why We Need to Talk About the Middle Path

Welcome back to Taste Test Thursdays, where we explore health, culture, belief, and everything in between. I’m your host, Megan Leigh and today, we’re asking a question that’s bound to make someone uncomfortable:

What if the very institutions we tore down as oppressive… were also protecting us?

We live in a time of extremes. On one side, you’ve got Quiverfull-style fundamentalists preaching hyper-fertility and wifely submission like it’s the only antidote to modern decay. On the other, we’ve got a postmodern buffet of “do what you want, gender is a vibe, all structures are violence.”

And if you’re like me—having navigated the high-control religion pipeline but also come out the other side—you might be wondering…

“Wait… does anyone believe in guardrails anymore?”

Because spoiler: freedom without form becomes chaos. And chaos isn’t empowering. It’s destabilizing.

I truly believe that structure and boundaries can actually serve a purpose—especially when it comes to sex, gender, and human flourishing.

This isn’t a call to go backward. It’s a call to pause, zoom out, and ask: what’s been lost in our so-called progress? Let’s dig in.

The Panic Playbook

This past summer, the media went full apocalyptic. You couldn’t scroll, stream, or tune in without hearing it: Christian nationalism is taking over. Project 2025 is a fascist manifesto. Trump is a theocratic threat to democracy itself. The narrative was everywhere—breathless Substacks, viral TikToks, and cable news countdowns to Gilead.

But while progressives were busy hallucinating handmaids and framing every Republican vote as the end of America, they were also helping cover up the biggest political scandal since Watergate: Biden’s cognitive decline.

This blog isn’t a right-wing defense or a leftist takedown. It’s a wake-up call. Because authoritarian creep doesn’t wear just one team’s jersey. If we’re serious about resisting tyranny, we need to stop fearmongering about theocracy and start interrogating the power grabs happening under our own banners—especially the ones cloaked in compassion, inclusion, and “equity.”


Not All “Christian Nationalism” Is the Same—Let’s Break It Down

The term “nationalism” gets thrown around a lot, but it actually has different meanings:

🔸 1. The Theocratic Extreme
This is the version everyone fears—and with good reason.

  • Belief: Government should follow biblical law.
  • Goal: A Christian theocracy where dissent is treated as rebellion.
  • Associated with: Christian Reconstructionism, Dominionism, and groups hostile to pluralism.
    📍 Reality: This is fringe. Most evangelicals don’t support this, but it’s the go-to boogeyman in media and deconstruction circles.

🔸 2. Civic or Cultural Nationalism
More common, less scary.

  • Belief: Shared culture—language, customs, even religion—can create unity.
  • Goal: Strong national identity and cohesion, not exclusion.
  • Seen in: France’s secularism, Japan’s cultural pride, and even Fourth of July BBQs.
    📍 Reality: This is where most “Christian nationalists” actually land. They believe in the U.S.’s Christian roots and want to preserve those values—not enforce a theocracy.

🔸 3. Patriotism (Often Mislabeled as Nationalism)
Here’s where it gets absurd.

  • Belief: Loving your country and its traditions.
  • Goal: A moral, thriving republic.
    📍 Reality: Critics lump this in with extremism to discredit conservatives, centrists, or people of faith.

Why It Matters

Lumping everyone—from flag-waving moderates to dominionist hardliners—into one “Christian nationalist” category fuels moral panic. It shuts down real dialogue and replaces nuance with hysteria.

You can:

✅ Love your country
✅ Value strong families
✅ Want morality in public life

…without wanting a theocracy.

Let’s Define the Terms Critics Confuse:

  • Dominionism: A fringe movement pushing for Christian control of civic life. Exists, but not mainstream.
  • Quiverfull: Ultra-niche belief in having as many kids as possible for religious reasons. Rare and extreme.
  • Christian Nationalism: Belief that the U.S. has a Christian identity that should shape culture and law. Vague, often misapplied.

And What It Isn’t:

  • Pro-natalism: A global concern over falling birth rates—not just a religious thing.
  • Conservative Feminism: Belief in empowerment through family and tradition. Dismissing it as brainwashing is anti-feminist.
  • Family Values: Often demonized, but for many, it just means prioritizing marriage, kids, and legacy.

Not all traditionalism is fascism.
Not all progressivism is liberation.
Let’s keep the conversation honest.


Hillary’s “Handmaid” Moment

Hilary Clinton🎧 “Well, first of all, don’t be a handmaiden to the patriarchy. Which kind of eliminates every woman on the other side of the aisle, except for very few. First, we have to get there, and it is obviously so much harder than it should be. So, if a woman runs who I think would be a good president, as I thought Kamala Harris would be, and as I knew I would be, I will support that woman.”

This quote from Hillary Clinton caused predictable outrage—but what’s more disturbing than the clip is the sentiment behind it.

In one breath, she managed to dismiss millions of women—mothers, caretakers, homemakers, conservative politicians, religious traditionalists—as unwitting slaves to male domination. Clinton doesn’t leave room for the idea that a woman might freely choose to prioritize home, faith, or family—not because she’s brainwashed, but because she’s pragmatic, thoughtful, and in tune with her own values.

To Clinton, there’s one legitimate type of woman in politics: the woman who governs like Hillary Clinton.

This framework—that conservative, traditional, or religious women are “handmaidens”—isn’t new. It’s a familiar talking point in progressive circles. And lately, it’s been weaponized even more boldly, as Clinton revealed in another recent statement:

“…blatant effort to basically send a message, most exemplified by Vance and Musk and others, that, you know, what we really need from you women are more children. And what that really means is you should go back to doing what you were born to do, which is to produce more children. So this is another performance about concerns they allegedly have for family life. Return to the family, the nuclear family. Return to being a Christian nation. Return to, you know, producing a lot of children, which is sort of odd because the people who produce the most children in our country are immigrants and they want to deport them, so none of this adds up.”

This is where modern feminism loses its plot. If liberation only counts when women make certain kinds of choices, it’s not about freedom then.


The Pro-Natalism Panic—and the Projection Problem

🎧 “Although the Quiverfull formal life isn’t necessarily being preached, many of the underlying theological and practical assumptions are elevated… and now, you know, they’re in the White House.”
Emily Hunter McGowin, guest on In the Church Library podcast with Kelsey Kramer McGinnis and Marissa Franks Burt

There’s a subtle but dangerous trend happening in the deconstruction space: lumping all traditional Christian views of family into the Quiverfull/Dominionist bucket.

In a recent episode of In the Church Library, the hosts and guest reflected on the rise of pro-natalist ideas and Christian influence in politics. Marissa asks whether the ideology behind the Quiverfull movement might be getting a new rebrand—and Emily responds with what sounds like a chilling observation: echoes of that movement are now in the White House.

But let’s pause.

❗ The Quiverfull movement is real—but it’s fringe. It’s not representative of all evangelicals, conservatives, or even Christian pro-family thinking.

Yet increasingly, any policy or belief that values marriage, child-rearing, or generational stability gets painted with that same extremist brush. This is where projection replaces analysis.

Take J.D. Vance, often scapegoated in these conversations. He’s frequently accused of trying to turn America into Gilead—even though he has three children, supports working-class families, and hasn’t once called for a theocracy. His concern? America’s birthrate is in freefall.

That’s not theocracy. That’s math.

Pro-natalism isn’t about forcing women to give birth. It’s about grappling with a demographic time bomb. Countries like South Korea, Hungary, and Italy are facing societal collapse because too few people are having children. This isn’t moral panic—it’s math.

Even secular thinkers are sounding the alarm:

Lyman Stone, an economist and demographer, emphasizes: “Lower fertility rates are harbingers of lower economic growth, less innovation, less entrepreneurship, a weakened global position, any number of factors… But for me, the thing I worry about most is just disappointment. That is a society where most people grow old alone with little family around them, even though they wanted a family.”

Paul Morland, a British demographer, warns: “We’ve never seen anything like this kind of population decline before. The Black Death wiped out perhaps a third of Europe, but we’ve never seen an inverted population pyramid like the one we have today. I can’t see a way out of this beyond the supposedly crazy notion that people should try to have more kids.”

We have to be able to separate structure from subjugation. There’s a world of difference between saying “families matter” and forcing women into barefoot-and-pregnant obedience.

When we flatten every traditional idea into a fundamentalist threat, we not only lose clarity—we alienate people who are genuinely seeking meaning, stability, and community in a fragmented culture.

If we want to be intellectually honest, we must distinguish:

  • Extremism vs. Order
  • Oppression vs. Structure
  • Religious Tyranny vs. Social Cohesion

And we should probably stop pretending that every road leads to the Handmaid’s Tale.


Protective Powers: What Louise Perry and Joan Brumberg Reveal About Institutions

Let’s talk about The Case Against the Sexual Revolution by Louise Perry. Perry is a secular feminist. She’s not nostalgic for 1950s housewife culture—but she is asking: what did we actually get from the sexual revolution?

Here’s her mic-drop:

“The new sexual culture didn’t liberate women. It just asked them to participate in their own objectification with a smile.”

We built an entire culture around the idea that as long as it’s consensual, it’s empowering. But Perry argues that consent—without wisdom, without boundaries, without institutional protection—leaves women wide open to harm.

She points to:

  • Porn culture
  • Casual hookups
  • The normalization of sexual aggression and coercion in dating

These aren’t signs of liberation—they’re signs of a society that privatized female suffering and told us to smile through it.

Perry doesn’t say “go full tradwife.” But she does say maybe marriage, sexual restraint, and even modesty functioned as protective constraints—not just patriarchal tools of oppression.

We traded one form of pressure (be pure, stay home) for another (be hot, work hard, never need a man). Neither version asked what women actually want.

Now flip over to The Body Project by Joan Jacobs Brumberg. This one blew my mind.

She traces how, a century ago, girls were taught to cultivate inner character: honesty, kindness, self-control.

By the late 20th century? That inner moral development had been replaced by bodily self-surveillance: thigh gaps, clear skin, flat stomachs. Girls now focus on looking good, not being good.

She writes:

“The body has become the primary expression of self for teenage girls.”

Think about that. We went from teaching virtue to teaching girls how to market themselves. We told them they were free—and then handed them Instagram and said, “Good luck.”

So again, maybe some of those “oppressive” structures were also serving as cultural scaffolding. Not perfect. Not painless. But they gave young people—especially girls—a script that wasn’t just: “Be hot, be available, and don’t catch feelings.”

Brumberg isn’t saying go back to corsets and courtship. But she is saying we’ve lost our moral imagination. We gave up teaching self-restraint and purpose and replaced it with branding. With body projects. And now we wonder why depression and anxiety are through the roof??

We dive deeper into these subjects in these two podcasts:


Why the Fear Feels Real—And Why It’s Still Misguided

Look, I get it.

If you’ve escaped religious trauma, purity culture, or spiritual abuse, the sight of a political figure talking about motherhood as a virtue can feel like a threat. Your nervous system registers it as a return to oppression. The media confirms your panic. And suddenly, a call for demographic survival starts sounding like a demand for forced birth.

But your trauma doesn’t make every policy that triggers you authoritarian. It just means you need to slow down and check the data.

Because ironically, the real threats to bodily autonomy and family structure? They might not be coming from traditionalists at all.


🏛 The Progressive Power Grab You’re Not Supposed to Question

Another frustrating comment made by Kelsey Kramer McGinnis in a recent podcast was the need to “decenter nuclear families” and the dismissal of concerns about an “attack on nuclear families” as mere panic. But here’s the thing—this fear isn’t fabricated. It’s not fringe. It’s rooted in observable cultural trends and policy shifts. You can’t just wave it away with smug academic detachment.

Whether you support the traditional family structure or not, the erosion of it has real consequences—especially for children, social stability, and intergenerational resilience. Calling that out isn’t fearmongering. It’s an invitation to discuss the stakes honestly.

Let’s set the record straight: The desire to shape culture, laws, and education systems is not the sole domain of religious conservatives. Dominionist Christians aren’t the only ones with blueprints for a theocratic society. Progressive activists also seek to remake the world in their image—one institution at a time.

This isn’t a right-wing “whataboutism.” It’s an honest observation about how ideological movements—regardless of political lean—operate when they gain influence.

Let’s take a look at what this looks like on both ends of the spectrum:

🏛 Dominionism (Far-Right Christian Nationalism)

Core Belief: Christians are mandated by God to bring every area of life—government, education, business—under biblical authority.

Tactics:

  • Homeschool curricula promoting biblical literalism and creationism.
  • Campaigns for Christian prayer in public schools or Ten Commandments monuments in courthouses.
  • Promoting the idea that America was founded as a Christian nation and must return to those roots.
  • Electing openly Christian lawmakers with the explicit goal of reshaping law and public policy to reflect “biblical values.”
  • Supporting the Quiverfull movement, which encourages large families to “outbreed the left” and raise up “arrows for God’s army.”

📘 Progressive Institutional Capture (Far-Left Activism)

Core Belief: Society must be dismantled and rebuilt to eliminate systemic oppression, centering race, gender, and identity as primary moral lenses.

Tactics:

  • Embedding DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion) frameworks into public schools, universities, and corporate policy.
  • Redefining gender and sex in school curricula while often sidelining parental input or community values.
  • Elevating “lived experience” over objective standards in hiring, curriculum design, and academic research.
  • Weaponizing social media and institutional policies to punish dissenting views (labeling them as “harmful,” “unsafe,” or “hateful”).
  • Using activist lingo to obscure government overreach (“gender-affirming care” vs. irreversible medical intervention for minors).

🔄 Shared Behaviors: The Race to Capture Institutions

Despite their stark differences in values, both dominionists and far-left activists behave in eerily similar ways:

  • They seek cultural dominance through schools, law, media, and public policy.
  • They view their moral framework as not just legitimate but necessary for a just society.
  • They suppress dissent by pathologizing disagreement—branding critics as “anti-Christian,” “bigoted,” “transphobic,” “groomers,” or “domestic extremists.”

The battleground is no longer just the ballot box. It’s the school board meeting. The state legislature. The HR department. The university curriculum. The TikTok algorithm.

Colorado’s HB25-1312 — The “Kelly Loving Act”

Signed in May 2025, this law expands protections for transgender individuals. Fine on the surface. But here’s the fine print:

  • It redefines coercive control to include misgendering and deadnaming.
  • In custody cases, a parent who refuses to affirm a child’s gender identity could now be framed as abusive—even if that child is a minor in the midst of rapid-onset gender dysphoria.

Is it protecting kids? Or is it using identity to override parental rights?

Washington State’s HB 1296

This bill guts the Parents’ Bill of Rights (which was approved by voters via Initiative 2081). It:

  • Eliminates mandatory parental access to children’s health records (including mental health).
  • Enshrines gender identity and sexual orientation in a new “Student Bill of Rights.”
  • Allows state-level monitoring of school boards that don’t comply.

And the cherry on top? It was passed with an emergency clause so it would take effect immediately, bypassing normal legislative scrutiny.

This isn’t some abstract culture war. These are real laws, passed in real states, stripping real parents of their authority.


A Marxist Framework Masquerading as Compassion

Some of these changes echo critical theory more than constitutional liberty.

Historically, Marxist and Maoist ideologies viewed the family unit as an oppressive structure that needed dismantling. Parental authority was often seen as an extension of capitalist control. In its place? State-affirmed loyalty, reeducation, and ideological uniformity.

Now, it’s not happening with red stars and gulags—it’s happening through rainbow flags and DEI seminars. But the power dynamics are the same:

The family becomes secondary to the state.
Dissent becomes dangerous.
Disagreement becomes “violence.”

This is how authoritarianism creeps in—wrapped in the language of safety and inclusion.


What Real Theocracy Looks Like

If you need a reality check, read Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled. Raised in a fundamentalist Muslim home, where women had no autonomy, no basic rights, and no freedom. She was forced into hijab at age 9, married off to an al-Qaeda operative, and beaten for asking questions. Women cannot see a doctor without a male guardian, they are forced to cover every inch of their bodies and are denied access to education and even the right to drive. That’s theocracy. That is TRUE oppression.

Now contrast that with the freedom that women enjoy in the West today. In modern America, women have more rights and freedoms than at any point in history. Women can run around naked at Pride parades, express their sexuality however they choose, and redefine what it means to be a woman altogether. The very idea of a “dystopia” here is laughable when we consider the actual freedom women in the West enjoy.

Yet, despite these freedoms, many liberal women still cry oppression. They whine about having to pay for their student loans, birth control or endure debates over abortion restrictions. This level of cognitive dissonance—claiming victimhood while living in unprecedented freedom—is a slap in the face to women who actually suffer under real patriarchal oppression.

What’s even more Orwellian is how the left, in its quest for inclusivity and justice, is actively stripping others of their freedoms. They preach about fighting for freedom of speech while canceling anyone who disagrees with them. They claim to be champions of equality while weaponizing institutions to enforce ideological conformity.

Bottom line: If you think Elon Musk tweeting about birth rates is the same as what Yasmine went through? You’ve lost perspective.

To revisit my conversation with Yasmine:


Fear Isn’t Feminism

If your feminism can’t handle dissent, it was never liberation—it was just a prettier cage.

We have to stop mistaking fear for wisdom. We have to stop confusing criticism with violence. And we absolutely must stop handing our power over to ideologies that infantilize us in the name of compassion.

Let’s be clear: Gilead isn’t coming. But if we’re not careful, something just as destructive might.

A world where parents are powerless.
Where biology is negotiable but ideology is law.
Where compliance is the only virtue, and questions are a crime.

The Courage to Be Honest

What I’m suggesting isn’t fashionable. It doesn’t fit neatly in a progressive or conservative box. But I’m tired of those boxes.

I’ve lived in Portland’s secular utopia and inside a high-control religious environment. I’ve seen how each side distorts truth in the name of “freedom” or “righteousness.”

But what if true liberation is found in the tension between the two?

The most revolutionary thing we can do today is refuse to become an extremist.

Not because we’re afraid.
Not because we’re fence-sitters.
But because we believe there’s a better way—one that honors the past without being imprisoned by it and faces the future with clear eyes and moral courage.


Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️🔒

— Megan Leigh

📚 Source List for Blog Post

1. Hillary Clinton Quotes

  • Quote 1 (on being a “handmaiden to the patriarchy”):
    [Reference: “Defending Democracy” podcast with historian Heather Cox Richardson, May 2024]
    No official transcript published — you’re using a direct audio clip for this one.
  • Quote 2 (on pro-natalism and immigration):
    [Source: Same podcast — “Defending Democracy” with Heather Cox Richardson, 2024]
    Partial reference via The Independent article

2. Louise Perry


3. Mary Harrington


4. Demographer Paul Morland


5. Lyman Stone


6. Dominionism & Quiverfull Movement


7. Recent Legislation Affecting Parental Rights

From ‘Women’ to ‘AFAB’: The Ideological Capture of Biology and the War on Reality

Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Today, we’re diving into a topic I’ve wanted to explore for a while now. Earlier this month, I came across a writer on Substack who posted something that really struck me. In his piece, he used dehumanizing language ‘assigned female at birth’. While his intention may have been to be inclusive, I found it to be exclusive and downright misogynistic.

It reminded me of back in 2021, I had a few people reach out to me on Instagram, pointing out that we had shifted from using the term ‘women’ to ‘AFAB’—’assigned female at birth.’ My gut reaction was intense—what the hell is going on here? It also reminds me of when I was living in Portland, I was constantly stressed, seeking external validation, and lacked the courage to speak up against gender ideology around 2013-2015. Little did I know, it would eventually take over the world.

Now, we’re going to dive into the consequences of transgenderism and its impact on children. And here’s the thing: I’m no longer afraid of being canceled or ridiculed. Honestly, I’ve already lost all my friends. But at this point, I’ve come to appreciate who I am, and standing for truth in today’s world has never been more important. It’s worth every consequence.

How We Got Here—The Origins of Gender Ideology

To understand how we went from recognizing biological sex as reality to debating whether we can even say the word “women” in medical journals, we have to look at where gender ideology came from.

This whole mess started with psychologist John Money in the 1950s. He was one of the first people to separate “gender” from “sex,” arguing that gender was a social construct, independent of biology. Expanding on John Money’s experiments is crucial because they expose the disturbing origins of gender ideology. Money, a psychologist and sexologist, was instrumental in pushing the idea that gender identity is entirely socially constructed, separate from biological sex. However, his most infamous experiment—the case of David Reimer—reveals the dark and unethical foundation of this belief system.

David Reimer was born male, alongside his identical twin brother, Brian. After a botched circumcision, Money convinced his parents to raise David as a girl, “Brenda,” after undergoing surgery and hormone treatments. Money believed this would prove that gender identity was purely a matter of socialization. However, David never truly identified as female. He struggled with severe psychological distress, eventually rejecting the imposed identity in his teenage years and transitioning back to male. His twin brother Brian also suffered severe emotional distress, and both tragically died by suicide in their 30s—a devastating consequence of Money’s reckless experiment.

The nature vs. nurture debate is at the heart of this issue. Money’s work attempted to prove that nurture—socialization and upbringing—could completely override biological sex. Yet, the failure of the Reimer case demonstrated the opposite: biology plays an undeniable role in identity and development. Attempts to force individuals into gender identities that contradict their biology often lead to severe psychological distress.

While John Money championed the idea that gender was purely a social construct, his ideological opponent, Dr. Milton Diamond, spent decades proving otherwise. Diamond, a biologist and sexologist, conducted extensive research showing that biological sex has an innate influence on identity. He exposed the flaws in Money’s work, particularly the David Reimer case, and argued that forcing an identity contrary to one’s biology leads to immense suffering. Diamond’s work underscored the importance of acknowledging biological sex while still allowing for individual gender expression—a stance completely at odds with today’s gender ideology, which seeks to erase biological realities altogether.

Intersex conditions are often misused as a justification for erasing sex-based distinctions. While intersex individuals exist, they make up a small fraction of the population and do not negate the binary nature of human sexual reproduction. Most intersex conditions result in variations of male or female biology, not a third sex. Using intersex as a reason to eliminate sex-based language ultimately harms both intersex and non-intersex individuals by denying the reality of biological differences.

Beyond David Reimer’s case, Money’s broader work was filled with moral controversies. His therapy sessions with young children were highly controversial and ethically disturbing by today’s standards. He conducted what he called “sexual rehearsal therapy,” which involved encouraging children to engage in sexual activities with their parents or siblings as a form of treatment for various psychological issues.

These sessions were intended to help children overcome sexual anxieties or developmental disorders, but they often crossed serious ethical boundaries and caused significant harm to the children involved. The lack of informed consent, the inappropriate nature of the activities, and the potential for long-term psychological damage have led to widespread criticism of Money’s methods.

Despite this, Money’s ideas laid the foundation for modern gender ideology. His theories, though discredited by cases like David Reimer’s, were absorbed into academia and later expanded upon by activists. The result? A cultural shift where subjective identity is prioritized over biological reality, and dissent is often met with backlash.

Understanding the origins of gender ideology is crucial because it reveals the shaky foundation upon which these ideas were built. Science, ethics, and real-world consequences all point to the same conclusion: biology matters, and attempts to erase it come at a significant human cost.

His theories were later expanded by Judith Butler in the ‘90s, who pushed the idea that gender is performative and entirely detached from biology. This philosophy has now morphed into the idea that sex itself is a “social construct.”

The Trans Flag’s Creator: A Window into Gender Ideology’s Evolution

Monica Helms, born Robert Hogge, designed the trans🏳️‍⚧️ pride flag in 1999.

Genevieve Gluck wrote in Reduxx Magizine:

According to researcher Dr. Sarah Goode, CEO of StopSO (Specialist Treatment Organization for the Prevention of Sexual Offending), pedophiles who organize online have developed their own culture, language, and symbols. One common symbol used in pedophile forums incorporates the colors baby blue, pink and white. In her lecture, ‘Hidden Knowledge: What We Ought to Know About Pedophiles,’ Dr. Goode shows a slide of the image, and says, “The pink half represents ‘girl lovers’ and the blue half represents ‘boy lovers.’”

The color code system appears to predate the initial design of the transgender flag and can be traced back to at least as early as 1997, according to online pro-pedophile forums.

Areas in Europe that advertise child trafficking to pedophile sex tourists have used the color code: “blue curtains mean a boy child prostitute and pink curtains a girl.”

It is unclear whether Helms was aware of this correlation at the time, but when discussing the symbolism behind the trans flag in an interview in 2017, Helms stated that blue represented young boys and pink represented young girls.

Whatever the case may be, his personal history and writings reveal disturbing patterns that echo the unsettling dynamics of gender ideology we’ve seen in figures like Dr. John Money. Helms, who now identifies as a woman, has long been involved in controversial and fetishistic behaviors, even writing “forced feminization” and erotic short stories. His writings include disturbing themes, such as the sexualization of minors, notably in a short story where a man marries a young girl who ages slowly, reflecting a disturbing fantasy that came to him in a dream.

In his memoir, More Than Just a Flag, Helms describes his “bigender” identity, as an “enlightened” being who floats between multiple identities, switching from male to female, sometimes simultaneously, or in an instant. He recalls times of experimentation, especially as an adult, where he would wear clothing inappropriate for his age and faced consequences for doing so at work.

Adding a deeply unsettling layer to the conversation, Helms, who was 70 at the time in 2022, made headlines by claiming to have changed his age to 25. Given the logic behind these transformations, this age shift sparked a viral conversation, with some commenters pointing out that his partner, Darlene Darlington Wagner, would now be “just 16 years old.” This raises questions about how fluid identity could extend beyond gender and into age.

As gender ideology increasingly became intertwined with political movements, it found its way into the mainstream, especially within the Democratic Party. Initially, intellectual discussions around gender began with French philosophers whose ideas about the body, power, and identity influenced later iterations of gender theory. But these complex theories have since been stripped of their nuance and rebranded into a political dogma that now dominates much of the left-leaning discourse.

The Democratic Party, which once championed civil rights and social justice, now finds itself navigating a fine line between advocating for freedom and accommodating forces that seek to change the very definition of identity itself. But at what cost? The more corporate interests and industries gain traction in shaping these ideologies, the more the left’s original values of anti-corporate resistance become a distant memory.

Which brings us to today’s nightmare.

From Fringe Theory to Political Dogma—How Gender Ideology Took Over the Democratic Party

How did academic theorizing become an institutionalized belief system within mainstream politics, particularly in the Democratic Party? This transformation happened through several key developments:

  1. The Rise of Queer Theory in Academia – Universities became breeding grounds for gender ideology throughout the 1990s and 2000s. Gender studies departments, influenced by postmodernist philosophy, framed gender as entirely fluid, rejecting biological sex distinctions. As students trained in these theories graduated and took positions in media, education, and activism, they carried these ideas into broader society.
  2. Institutional Capture and Activism – Activist organizations like the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) and the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) began pushing gender ideology into corporate policies, legal frameworks, and public schools. Their influence, combined with the rapid spread of social media, helped mainstream these concepts far beyond the academic world.
  3. Legal and Policy Shifts – Under the Obama administration, gender ideology gained political traction, particularly through Title IX reinterpretations that mandated schools to accommodate self-declared gender identities. This was further expanded under the Biden administration, with policies requiring federally funded institutions to adopt gender-affirming policies in sports, healthcare, and education. Let’s talk about the hilarious double standards around the billionaires funding the LGBT movement. We’ve all seen the left melting down over the influence of billionaires—except, of course, when those billionaires are funding agendas they support. An article from First Things calls out some of the big names behind the LGBT movement, and guess what? It’s showcases this massive contradiction.
  4. Big Tech and Media Reinforcement – Social media platforms, major news outlets, and entertainment industries began actively promoting gender ideology while censoring dissenting views. This created a cultural environment where questioning gender ideology was framed as hateful or bigoted, further entrenching it within left-wing politics.
  5. The Redefinition of Civil Rights – Transgender identity was increasingly framed as the next major civil rights frontier, equating sex-based protections with racial and disability rights. This shifted the Democratic Party’s platform to fully embrace gender ideology, making skepticism or critique politically unacceptable within mainstream liberal discourse.

The Shift from ‘Women’ to ‘AFAB’—Erasing Women for Ideology

So why has the term “women” been replaced with “AFAB” (Assigned Female At Birth)? The justification is that saying “women” is “exclusionary” to trans-identified females. But in reality, it’s deeply misogynistic.

Jennifer Bilek, in her Dispatches from the 11th Hour essays, has done incredible work exposing how gender ideology isn’t some organic civil rights movement—it’s a well-funded social engineering project backed by billionaires and biotech companies. She points out that this linguistic shift isn’t just about “inclusion.” It’s about destabilizing categories of sex for the benefit of corporate and medical industries.

When you erase the words “women” or “woman,” you erase women’s ability to advocate for their needs. You make it harder to talk about female-specific health issues. And you make it easier for policies to prioritize ideology over science.

The Medical and Scientific Consequences of Erasing Sex

This isn’t just an abstract cultural issue. It has real, dangerous consequences for medicine and science.

Historically, women have been excluded from medical research—for decades, studies were conducted almost exclusively on male subjects, and the results were assumed to apply to women. The problem? Women are not small men. We have different hormonal cycles, different metabolic rates, and different responses to medications.

Here are just a few examples of how ignoring biological sex in medicine harms women:

  • Heart disease: Women’s symptoms are different from men’s, and because most research was done on men, women are more likely to be misdiagnosed.
  • ACL injuries: Women are at a significantly higher risk due to differences in hip structure and ligament laxity, yet training protocols are still modeled on male athletes.
  • Medication dosages: Women metabolize drugs differently, but dosages are often tested on male bodies, leading to overdoses or ineffective treatments for women.

In 2016, the NIH finally mandated that women be included in medical research, a huge step forward. But now, under gender ideology, we’re reversing that progress by saying we can’t acknowledge sex at all.

If we replace “women’s health” with “AFAB health,” how do we effectively study and treat female-specific conditions like PCOS, endometriosis, or pregnancy-related complications?

We don’t. Because that’s the point.

The Connection Between Transgenderism and Transhumanism

As the journalist, Stella Morabito, has written:

“Transgenderism is a vehicle for state power and censorship.”

It is tyranny dressed up in the clothes of what has become the carcass of the progressive left and it seeks absolute power and control over humanity and nature.

This is where things get dark.

Jennifer Bilek and other researchers have pointed out how gender ideology is just one arm of a larger movement: transhumanism—the belief that humanity should merge with technology, that our bodies are “obsolete,” and that we should ultimately move beyond biology altogether.

Think about what the transgender movement pushes:

  • The idea that our bodies are wrong and need to be medically altered
  • A reliance on synthetic hormones for life
  • The normalization of body modification to fit identity over reality

Now zoom out: Who benefits from this ideology? Pharmaceutical companies. The same billionaires pushing trans activism are also deeply invested in AI, biotech, and synthetic biology.

Oligarchs on both the political right like Peter Thiel and on the left like Jeff Bezos. JD Vance is the co-founder of Narya Capital and invested in Amplied Bio which has announced a strategic partnership RNAV8 to support MRNA therapeutic developers. Even MAHA’s hero RFK Jr has invested in Crispr technology. Financially disclosers released in Jan 2025 reveal he holds invested in Crispr therapeutics which specialists in gene editing technologies, as well as Dragon Fly Therapeutics which focuses on immunotherapies. So, despite his history of expressing concerns against gene-editing therapy. He did state he would divest from these companies if confirmed secretary of HHS. So, Mr. Secretary, we are keeping eyes on you. 👀

I haven’t even mentioned of Elon Musk with NeuraLink and who knows what else that guy has planned. I am a big fan of DODGE and the exposure of the corruption, YET I definitely keep a skeptical eye on him as well.

The goal is not just to let people “live as their authentic selves.” The goal is to dissolve sex-based reality entirely, making people dependent on medical interventions for life. This isn’t liberation—it’s medical enslavement.

Brave New World Revisited: The Synthetic Creation of Culture

Earlier this year I read Huxley’s Brave New World, and it didn’t read as fiction, it read as he had a crystal ball into the future. In his dystopia, human reproduction was industrialized, the family unit was obsolete, and people were engineered for compliance under the guise of “progress.” Sound familiar? The push for synthetic reproduction, the erasure of sex-based identity, and the growing narrative that biology itself is a problem all mirror Huxley’s warning.

Jennifer Bilek exposes how transhumanism is the real endgame. The same corporate interests promoting gender ideology are also pioneering artificial wombs, genetically modified embryos, and bioengineered organ harvesting. This is a world where human beings are no longer conceived but manufactured. Where the natural, biological family is replaced by state-sanctioned, lab-grown “life.”

Huxley warned us about a future where people would love their servitude—where the loss of freedom would be reframed as liberation. That future is unfolding now. The question is: Are we resisting dehumanization, or are we embracing it under a new name?

The Erasure of Women Illustration by Greg Groesch

Fighting Back Against the Erasure of Women

So what do we do?

  1. Refuse to comply with ideological language. Women are women—not AFABs.
  2. Call out the erasure of sex in medicine and policy. We must advocate for sex-based language in healthcare.
  3. Expose the billionaires funding this movement. This is not grassroots activism—it’s top-down social engineering.

The fight to protect reality isn’t just about ideology. It’s about protecting women, safeguarding science, and ensuring future generations don’t grow up in a world where “female” is a forbidden word.

Sources:

Reclaiming Critical Thinking in an Age of Narrative Warfare

How Media Manipulation and Pseudo-Intellectualism Are Undermining Independent Thought

In today’s episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I sit down with Franklin O’Kanu, also known as The Alchemik Pharmacist, to unpack one of the most pressing issues of our time: the erosion of critical thinking. Franklin, founder of Unorthodoxy, brings a unique perspective that bridges science, spirituality, and philosophy. Together, we explore how media narratives, pseudo-intellectualism, and societal conditioning have trained people to ignore their inner “Divine BS meter” and simply accept what they’re told.

The Death of Critical Thinking

As Franklin points out, we’ve lost the ability to thoughtfully absorb and analyze information. The past few years have conditioned individuals to disregard anything that doesn’t align with mainstream sources, experts, or consensus. Instead of engaging with information critically, many have been taught to dismiss it outright. The result? A culture that values conformity over curiosity and blind acceptance over intellectual rigor.

We discuss how this shift has been accelerated by media bombardment, especially during the pandemic. The New York Times even published an article on critical thinking, but instead of encouraging intellectual engagement, it suggested that questioning mainstream narratives is dangerous. This is narrative warfare at its finest—manipulating public perception to ensure that only “approved” ideas are given legitimacy.

The Power of Narratives: How Ideological Echo Chambers Shape Reality

Franklin O’Kanu often cites James Corbett’s work on media’s role in shaping public perception as a major inspiration behind his Substack. Corbett’s central thesis is simple: narratives build realities—and whoever controls the dominant narrative controls public thought. Nowhere is this clearer than in the nihilistic messaging that dominates left-leaning social media platforms like Meta. The idea that humans are an irredeemable blight on the planet has been mainstreamed, despite evidence to the contrary.

This same unquestioning adherence to an ideological narrative played out during the pandemic with phrases like “Trust the science” and “Don’t do your own research.” I explored this trend in my Substack, particularly through the lens of so-called ‘cult expert’ Steven Hassan. Hassan built his career exposing ideological manipulation, branding himself as the foremost authority on cult mind control. But here’s the irony: while he calls out high-control religious groups, he seems completely blind to the cult-like tactics within his own political ideology.

Information Control: Censoring ‘Dangerous’ Ideas

Hassan’s BITE model—which stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control—is designed to help people recognize manipulation.

In cults, leaders dictate what information followers can access. The extreme left does the same.

  • Censorship of Opposing Views – Deplatforming, banning books, firing professors—if an idea threatens the ideology, it’s labeled “harmful” and shut down.
  • Historical Revisionism – Complex events are reframed to fit simplistic oppression narratives, ignoring inconvenient facts.
  • Selective Science – Only research that supports the ideology gets funding and visibility. Studies on biological sex differences, IQ variations, or alternative climate models? Silenced or retracted—not because they’re disproven, but because they’re inconvenient.
  • Discouraging Exposure to Counterarguments – Followers are taught that listening to the other side is “platforming hate” or “giving oxygen to fascism.”

This is exactly what happened when Franklin challenged the mainstream climate change narrative. The moment he questioned NetZero policies, he wasn’t just hit with the usual accusations: “climate denier,” “science denier,” and the ever-expanding list of ideological insults meant to discredit rather than debate, but he was blocked. This is how bad ideas survive—by shutting down the people who challenge them.

Franklin warns that if you’re not careful, these narratives can take you down a dark rabbit hole built on lies. Once an ideological framework is built around selective truth, it becomes a self-reinforcing system—one that punishes dissent and rewards conformity. And once you let someone else dictate what information is “safe” for you to consume, you’re already in the first stages of ideological capture.

The Rise of the Fake Intellectual

Platforms like Facebook/Instagram/YouTube have perfected the illusion of intellectual discourse while actively suppressing opposing voices. This has led to what Franklin calls the fake intellectual—individuals or organizations that present themselves as champions of knowledge but ultimately serve to shut down real dialogue.

Fake intellectuals don’t invite discussion; they police it. They rely on appeals to authority, groupthink, and censorship to maintain an illusion of correctness. True intellectualism, on the other hand, is rooted in curiosity, openness, and the willingness to engage with challenging perspectives.

Reclaiming Intellectual Integrity

One of the most powerful insights from our discussion is the role belief plays in shaping our world. Franklin warns that when we accept narratives without scrutiny, we risk being deceived. This applies across industries—medicine, science, finance, and even religion. These systems function because people believe in them, often without verifying their claims. But if we fail to question these narratives, we become passive participants in a game where only a select few control the rules.

So, how do we resist narrative warfare and reclaim critical thinking? Franklin suggests:

  • Cultivating intellectual humility—being open to the possibility that we might be wrong.
  • Recognizing media manipulation—understanding how information is curated to shape public perception.
  • Engaging with diverse perspectives—actively seeking out voices that challenge our beliefs.
  • Trusting our own discernment—developing the confidence to think independently instead of outsourcing our opinions to authority figures.

Franklin expands on this in his writings, particularly in his two articles, How to See the World and How to Train Your Mind. As he puts it, “We all have these voices in our heads. Philosophy is really just understanding the reality of the world, and there’s a principle in philosophy—keep things as simple as possible.” He breaks it down like this:

  • You are a soul. That’s the foundation. If every child grew up knowing this, it would change the way we see ourselves.
  • You have a body. Your body exists to experience the physical reality of the world.
  • You have a mind. Your mind is an information processor that collects input from your senses. But it also generates thoughts—sometimes helpful, sometimes misleading.

Franklin uses a simple example: Is my craving for ice cream coming from my body, my mind, or my soul? That question highlights the need to discern where our impulses originate. He extends this concept to online interactions: How many thoughts do we have just from seeing something online? How many narratives do we construct before our soul even has a chance to process reality?

Online spaces, Franklin argues, give rise to what he calls the “inner troll.”🧌 He connects this to the spiritual concept of demons—forces that seek to provoke, enrage, and divide. “Think about the term ‘troll,’” he says. “What is that, really? It’s an inner demon that gets let loose online. The internet makes it easy for our worst instincts to take over.”

So, what’s the antidote? Franklin emphasizes the importance of the pause. Before reacting to something online, before getting swept into outrage, take a step back. Ask: What is happening here? What am I feeling? Is this a real threat, or is my mind generating a reaction?

“It’s extremely hard to do online,” Franklin admits. “But when we practice stepping back, we can respond more humanely—more divinely. That’s the key to reclaiming critical thinking in a world that thrives on emotional manipulation.”

The digital age bombards us with narratives designed to capture our attention, manipulate our emotions, and direct our beliefs. But we are not powerless.

On an episode last season, we discussed a concept I learned from Dr. Greg Karris—something he calls narcissistic rage in fundamentalist ideologies. It helped me understand why people react so viscerally when their beliefs are challenged. My friend Jay described a similar idea as emotional hijacks, tying it to the amygdala’s response. This concept also appears in Emotional Intelligence 2.0 by Daniel Goleman and is expanded upon in Pete Walker’s Complex PTSD.

When the amygdala gets triggered—exactly what Franklin was describing—we have to learn to recognize the physical sensations that come with it. Elevated heart rate. Sweaty palms. That’s your body sounding the alarm. But in that moment, your prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for logic and rational thinking—is offline. Your biology is overriding your soul’s intention. And that’s why taking a step back is so crucial.

The best way to get your higher reasoning back online? Create space. Pause. Let the emotional surge settle before you engage. As simple as it sounds, it’s one of the hardest things to do. But in a world where reactionary thinking is the default, practicing this skill is an act of rebellion—and a path to reclaiming our intellectual and emotional sovereignty.


Next, Franklin and I dive into a pressing issue: The Coddling of the Mind in society—a theme I’ve explored numerous times on the podcast and in my blogs. Franklin brings up a fascinating point, saying, “One thing that’s happened with COVID, though it started before, is the softening of humanity. We’ve become so soft that you can’t say anything anymore. And what that’s done is pushed away true intellectual rigor. We used to be able to sit and share ideas, but now we’re obsessed with safe spaces. And this started on college campuses.”

Franklin’s observation taps into a broader cultural shift that has eroded the foundations of intellectual engagement. In the past, people could engage in discussions where the goal wasn’t necessarily to convince others, but to explore ideas, challenge assumptions, and learn. The push for safe spaces—often an attempt to shield individuals from discomfort or offense—has inadvertently led to the silencing of open debate. In this environment, people have become more focused on avoiding offense than on confronting difficult ideas or engaging in intellectual rigor. This dynamic, Franklin argues, has stripped away the very essence of what it means to debate, discuss, and learn.

This idea echoes themes explored in Gad Saad’s The Parasitic Mind, where Saad delves into how certain ideologies undermine intellectual diversity and critical thinking. Franklin builds on this, urging that true intellectual growth comes from understanding where someone is coming from, even if their views differ from your own. “Learn what happened to individuals to understand how they arrived at their conclusions,” he says. “Remove personal bias and avoid attacks. Only then can you critique the point effectively, offering counterpoints that strengthen both arguments and allow experiences from both sides to shine.” This approach, Franklin explains, fosters a more nuanced understanding of each other’s perspectives, allowing both sides to learn and grow rather than simply entrenched in opposing views.

This fragility encourages echo chambers and groupthink, where dissent is silenced, and alternative perspectives are rejected outright. Ironically, in the pursuit of empathy, freedom, and inclusivity, movements like deconstruction can end up mirroring the same intellectual and moral rigidity they sought to escape.

I could continue typing out the entire conversation, or you could just listen. 🙂

In an age where the appearance of truth is often prioritized over truth itself, our ability to think critically is more important than ever. This episode is an invitation to break free from intellectual complacency and reclaim the power of questioning.


Article mentioned in the interview:

Oh, Woke Night: The New Sacred Beliefs of the Left

A Journey from Cults to Cancel Culture

What’s a racist, homophobe, sexist, bigot, or hater?
Apparently, anyone winning an argument with a liberal these days.

This year has been a wild ride. It began with me terrified of Satan, demons, and the Apocalypse, only to be ending it realizing the real danger isn’t hellfire—it’s the dogmas we create here on Earth. I didn’t grow up religious. In fact, I was raised secular, moved to Portland, OR after college, and could give you a TED Talk on progressive ideals. But then the pandemic hit, and somewhere between sourdough starters and doomscrolling, I found myself deep in the throes of fundamentalist Christianity.

That’s right—I started the year in a cult. It took months to deconstruct my faith, peel back the layers of fear-based control, and reimagine spirituality beyond the man-made monotheistic God I was sold. Yet, just as I was catching my breath, I noticed something chilling: the same patterns of zealotry I had fled were alive and well in the secular world.

Wokeness, with its sermons on systemic oppression and sacraments of allyship, has become the new secular religion. It demands unwavering faith, punishes heretics, and offers little room for redemption. And just like the fire-and-brimstone preachers I’d left behind, its most fervent believers seem less interested in dialogue and more intent on moral superiority.

Thought leaders like John McWhorter (Woke Racism), Yasmine Mohammed (Unveiled), and Douglas Murray (The Madness of Crowds) have drawn the same parallels: woke ideology mirrors religious extremism, complete with its own prophets and purges. And as someone who’s lived through both kinds of radicalism, I’m here to tell you—it’s not just unsettling; it’s dangerous.

How woke ideology mirrors religious extremism

In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion—I delved into my initial discovery of the Ex-evangelical Christian network. Back in February 2024, it felt like a lifeline, a safe haven for questioning my former religious beliefs. But after 6–7 months of immersion, patterns began to emerge. While the movement has been instrumental for many, I couldn’t ignore the creeping rigidity and tribalism. The hunger for certainty, the need to be on the “right side,” often replaces one dogma with another.

A striking example of this surfaced in Sexvangelicals’ episode How to Do Social Justice This Election Season Without Being a Jackass. They state:

“November’s presidential election offers a stark contrast between two types of government. One is democracy, built on the idea that many people have voices and, ideally, a government that serves a broad population. The other is autocracy, which operates on the belief that only a few have a say. Autocracies, like the 2024 Republican Party, often communicate through tactics such as blame, repression, and fear-mongering. In our latest episode, we discuss common communication strategies used by autocracies and how progressives and pro-democracy voters can avoid responding in ways that reinforce jackassdom.”

My response? “It’s not your enemies, it’s the system.” This narrative reduces a complex political landscape into a simplistic moral battle, with one side as saviors of democracy and the other as agents of autocracy. But this dichotomy misses the bigger picture. Who really shapes policy in America?

A 2014 study by Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page, often dubbed the “Oligarchy Study,” analyzed policy decisions across two decades. It revealed that elites and organized interest groups wield disproportionate influence over government decisions, while the average citizen’s impact is negligible. This stark reality transcends partisan politics and lays bare a systemic issue: power isn’t held by the left or right—it’s concentrated in the hands of those who profit from our division.

By framing every election as a battle for democracy versus tyranny, we’re falling into the trap of distraction. The real question isn’t, “Which side am I on?” but, “Who benefits from keeping me here, fighting, and not looking beyond this binary?”

The claim that the Republican Party represents an autocracy, as made by Sexvangelicals, is not just simplistic—it’s laughably disconnected from reality. To label one political party as authoritarian while ignoring the bipartisan complicity in maintaining an oligarchic system is either naïve or willfully ignorant.

Take the oligarchic nature of U.S. politics. Both major parties have long benefited from the concentration of wealth and power at the top. Consider the case of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose net worth has ballooned through stock trades that suspiciously align with her legislative influence. Or Barack Obama (Barry Soetoro), who went from public servant to multi-millionaire, cashing in on book deals, speaking engagements, and lucrative partnerships with Netflix after leaving office.

Then there’s President Joe Biden. While progressives champion him as a defender of democracy, his record is far from pristine. Most recently, questions surrounding his son Hunter Biden’s international business dealings—spanning over a decade—have drawn scrutiny. Hunter’s alleged tax evasion and unregistered foreign lobbying have raised concerns, yet he continues to receive leniency from the justice system.

This isn’t to excuse Republicans from criticism, but the suggestion that they alone embody authoritarian tendencies is absurd when Democrats have equally reaped the rewards of an oligarchic system. Both parties serve the interests of economic elites and organized lobbyists far more faithfully than they do the average voter.

The Magnet, from Puck, 1911.(Udo J. Keppler / Library of Congress)

The bipartisan reality of the oligarchy dismantles the “democracy versus autocracy” narrative. For instance, the same Gilens and Page study cited earlier reveals that the preferences of the bottom 90% of income earners have statistically no impact on policy outcomes. Meanwhile, corporate donors and lobbying groups continue to hold sway over legislation regardless of which party is in power.

By framing Republicans as the sole villains in this story, Sexvangelicals perpetuates the kind of shallow tribalism that fuels division while leaving the real culprits—wealthy elites and corporate interests—untouched. The truth is that our democracy has been compromised for decades, and it will remain so until both sides of the aisle are held accountable for their role in preserving this oligarchic system.

Instead of directing anger at individuals or parties, we should be asking: How do we break free from a system designed to keep us pointing fingers at each other while those in power profit from the chaos?


From Crunchy Hippie to Conservative Christian Pipeline: My Journey Through the Radicalization Maze

Growing up secular, I’d have laughed at the idea that I would someday align with conservative or religious ideologies. Portland, Oregon, was my playground of progressive ideals—a city where conservatism felt like the root of every societal ill. But life has a way of challenging our convictions. Late in the pandemic, isolated and seeking meaning, I fell into an extreme version of Christianity. What I once dismissed as unthinkable became my new normal—until it wasn’t. Earlier this year, I deconstructed those beliefs, peeling back the layers of what led me there. Read/listen all about HERE!

Now, I can see the flaws and virtues of both worlds, which is why I find the frame of mind in deconstruction spaces puzzling. Many accounts misrepresent or overgeneralize conservatives—the very people they once were or grew up with—and cast the same stones they once had thrown at them.

It reminds me of this quote from the book The Righteous Mind:

“I had escaped from my prior partisan mind-set (reject first, ask rhetorical questions later) and began to think about liberal and conservative policies as manifestations of deeply conflicting but equally heartfelt visions of the good society. It felt good to be released from partisan anger. And once I was no longer angry, I was no longer committed to reaching the conclusion that righteous anger demands: we are right, they are wrong.”

Deconstructing past beliefs should be about nuance, growth, and intellectual humility—not trading one form of black-and-white thinking for another. When we fail to empathize with others’ moral frameworks, we miss out on a deeper understanding of the human experience.

Many in the ex-evangelical space now lean far left in their political views, where values like care, fairness, and empathy take center stage. Conservative values like loyalty and authority are dismissed or viewed with suspicion, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality.

This cultural shift into victimhood is explored further in The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who identify three “Great Untruths” that help explain these societal trends:

  • 1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,”
  • 2) “Always trust your feelings,”
  • 3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”

These untruths, they argue, contribute to fragility, discourage critical thinking, and promote a tribal mentality—characteristics that are increasingly evident in both the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left. The focus on emotional responses over rational thought and the growing divide between “us” and “them” only strengthens these dynamics. For a deeper dive into this.


Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look

“What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”

John McWhorter argues that wokeism functions like a full-fledged religion. It provides a moral framework that mirrors traditional religious beliefs. Instead of concepts like original sin, wokeism offers “privilege,” positioning those with it as morally compromised. In place of rituals like prayer, adherents perform acts like confessing their biases. And, similar to the salvation promised in traditional religions, salvation in wokeism comes through activism and striving for societal change. He warns that its refusal to tolerate dissent turns it into a rigid orthodoxy rather than a genuine quest for justice. For many, including those who’ve deconstructed evangelical faith, this framework hits uncomfortably close to home.

Many of the individuals I met and conversed with who now identify as progressive or left leaning have simply exchanged the evangelical radicalism of their past for their new liberal beliefs. Social justice, in this sense, has become their new End Times—complete with the same apocalyptic fervor. And it’s painfully obvious.

Douglas Murray discusses this analysis further in The Madness of Crowds. He suggests that wokeism often serves as a substitute for religion in today’s secular world. As belief in traditional religions has waned, people have sought meaning elsewhere—and wokeism fills that void. It provides clear rules and a sense of belonging, but in doing so, it also shuts down open debate and nuanced conversation.

The New Authority: From Sky Daddy to State Agencies

A striking similarity between fundamentalist religion and woke ideology is the relentless worship of authority. For those who’ve left behind their “big sky daddy,” that void has been filled by institutions like the CDC, FDA, and government agencies. The pandemic demonstrated how blind faith can easily shift from divine to institutional.

This is where the religion of scientism enters the picture—where reason and science are elevated to the status of ultimate truth. Figures who present themselves as “experts” rely on surface-level expertise and selective data to craft narratives that appear authoritative, yet fail under scrutiny. They become the “fake intellectuals,” as Franklin O’Kanu calls them, feeding the cult of expertise while often lacking real intellectual rigor. In public health, this plays out with the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which further complicates the narrative of impartiality.

The “revolving door” describes the flow of personnel between agencies like the CDC and the pharmaceutical industry. This cycle blurs the lines between public service and corporate interest, with former regulators influencing policies that benefit the very companies they once oversaw—creating a potential conflict of interest that’s staggering.

In this new system, the scientific establishment becomes the new authority—replacing the monotheistic idea of God with the “god” of reason and data. For those in the deconstruction space, this is a new form of dogma. It stifles curiosity, dismisses dissent, and discourages critical thinking—all in the name of progress. This mirrors the rigid certainty and tribalism found in the religious structures people sought to escape.

Worshipping “science” or blindly trusting clinical trials can be misleading. While clinical trials are seen as vital for medical progress, they are often heavily influenced by the pharmaceutical industry, which funds a vast majority of these trials. This creates a conflict of interest that can skew results and delay critical information about the risks of drugs. Examples like the Vioxx scandal, where a painkiller was marketed despite internal knowledge of its dangers, and the Tamiflu case, where the effectiveness of the drug was overstated, show how corporate interests can shape clinical trial outcomes. Clinical trials, while important, are not always as objective or transparent as they seem.

Empowering Dangerous Systems

Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled pushes the conversation even more, explaining how wokeism can actually empower authoritarian regimes. One key point she makes is how Western progressives, in the name of cultural relativism, avoid criticizing radical Islam. This gives a platform to extremist ideologies, which harms vulnerable groups like women and minorities. She argues,

“By shielding oppressive practices from scrutiny, wokeism betrays the very people it claims to protect.”

The binary “oppressor versus oppressed” narrative has become a staple of modern discourse, particularly within the context of the Israel-Palestine conflict. This oversimplified lens reduces complex geopolitical and historical realities to a stark dichotomy, fostering a dangerous environment where nuance is lost. It’s unnerving to see college students waving the flag of Palestine while simultaneously undermining U.S. monuments and values, while spreading fear mongering lies about Project 2025, and comparing Trump to Hitler. These contradictions are not only mind-numbing but also deeply troubling, signaling a shift toward ideological extremism that dismisses the complexities of any issue in favor of emotional, binary thinking.

Antisemitism has spiked globally after the October 7 attacks on Israel, but this tragic reality has also fueled the misuse of the term “antisemitism” to suppress valid critiques of Israeli policies. Labeling critics as antisemitic conflates political criticism with hate, shutting down meaningful dialogue essential to addressing the Israel-Palestine conflict’s complexities.

This approach mirrors patterns within woke ideology, where dissent is often silenced in the name of ideological purity. The weaponization of identity politics and accusations hinders nuanced discussions and reinforces systems of power, obstructing pathways to justice and true understanding.

Vivek Ramaswamy, in Woke, Inc., adds another layer to this by discussing how authoritarian regimes like China’s Communist Party (CCP) take advantage of woke rhetoric. According to Ramaswamy, the CCP amplifies America’s internal divisions—often fueled by wokeism—to weaken the West. By focusing on these cultural rifts, China diverts attention from its own human rights abuses, all while strengthening its geopolitical position. This is part of China’s broader geopolitical strategy, which seeks to deflect attention from its authoritarian practices while exploiting divisions in Western societies.

This pattern can be seen as part of a broader effort to exploit the distractions created by cultural conflicts to enhance its influence in global organizations, trade, and international relations. For example, while Western nations debate internal social issues, China continues its expansive Belt and Road Initiative, which increases its influence across developing nations.

Heretics and the Price of Dissent

Religious movements and extreme ideologies, like wokeism, are often defined by their treatment of dissenters or heretics. Woke spaces, much like traditional religious communities, are quick to condemn those who question or criticize. Whether it’s TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) or former progressives like Yasmine Mohammed, those who dissent face severe backlash. This exclusionary behavior creates a stifling environment, not dissimilar to how traditional religions treat apostates. As Douglas Murray puts it, “The hatred reserved for heretics is often more intense than that directed at outsiders.”

But this dynamic is about more than just ideological rigidity—it’s also rooted in human psychology. The human brain is naturally drawn to certainty. When we embrace extreme ideologies, we seek control over our environment, which provides us a sense of stability and security. Research in neuroscience shows that when our beliefs are challenged, we experience discomfort, but defending them can trigger a dopamine response, rewarding us with a sense of control. The brain gets a “hit” from maintaining a sense of certainty, even if it’s at the cost of nuance or rational discussion.

In fact, this need for certainty can become addictive. The human brain often craves certainty in the form of binary thinking—where things are either completely right or completely wrong. This type of thinking is satisfying because it shields us from the cognitive dissonance that arises when faced with complexity or ambiguity. In the case of woke ideology, the call for absolute adherence to certain beliefs or behaviors is not just about social justice—it’s a way to satisfy that neurological need for control. When we feel justified in our beliefs and actions, we receive a dopamine “reward,” reinforcing the behavior.

This addiction to certainty can also be seen in extreme partisanship. The more entrenched we become in one side, the more our brain is rewarded for defending it. It’s why many people in the deconstruction space or on the political left engage in “mental gymnastics”—creating justifications and rationalizations that protect their beliefs. This isn’t just about ideology; it’s about keeping that dopamine reward flowing, keeping the illusion of control intact, and avoiding the discomfort of uncertainty.

The problem is this pattern of thinking isn’t conducive to open dialogue or true critical thinking. The “us vs. them” mentality becomes more pronounced, and the space for nuance, disagreement, and personal growth shrinks. Instead of engaging with opposing views, individuals self-censor or double down on their beliefs, further entrenched in the addictive cycle of ideological purity.

Moving Forward: A Balanced Approach

It’s important to note that this critique isn’t meant to dismiss the noble goals of social justice movements. Addressing inequality and harm in the world is crucial. But when these movements demand absolute loyalty and punish dissent, they lose sight of the very ideals they claim to uphold.

What do you guys think? How do you balance the pursuit of justice with the need for free thought?

As I discuss on my podcast, Taste of Truth Tuesdays, this tension is something I’ll be unpacking in more detail on Season 3 and particularly with Yasmine Mohammed. We’ll explore how wokeism intersects with radical Islam, how authoritarian regimes exploit these divisions, and how we can engage with these ideologies in a way that doesn’t undermine the values of justice, free thought, and humanity.


Join the Conversation

Do you see these religious parallels in woke ideology? Are they helpful in understanding these dynamics, or do they oversimplify the issue?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Comment below, and don’t miss my podcast episode with Yasmine Mohammed dropping 2025 for a deeper dive into these topics!