The Technofascist Mind: A Guide to Its Psychology and Philosophy
I often read the usual American coastal elite magazines—the New Yorker, Guardian, the Atlantic, and others—and experience a profound sense of vertigo when opinion writers diagnose the emergent ideologies of Silicon Valley's power brokers as 'anti-democratic' or 'illiberal' as if this is some new revelation. Yes, obviously. In other news the sky is blue and water is wet.
These labels, while accurate, feel profoundly inadequate, akin to describing a hurricane as 'windy.' They capture a symptom but miss the specific, driving pathology—a distinct philosophical and psychological current demanding closer examination. As many on the left critisize these figures as 'fascist' a label many of them gladly wear as a badge of honor. It's not perceived as an insult but often as a compliment, confirming their self-perceived exceptionalism.
Continuing this line of critique, while perhaps providing empty catharsis, fundamentally fails to change anything or undermine their power. Having spent considerable time observing, reading, and even working with these people, I don't share their beliefs, but I grasp the internal logic that, given certain presuppositions, leads to their conclusions. The persistent misunderstanding in mainstream analysis is not just frustrating; it's strategically inept. If we aim to counter their influence—to metaphorically blow up the Death Star—we must first understand its architecture, including the location of its thermal exhaust port ... if you can excuse my nerd humour.
I'm writing this primarily for political strategists and journalists alike to understand the technofascist mindset and how to counter it, because we need to win in both 2026 and 2028 against these people's iron grip on our country. This article aims to provide my understanding, delving into the psychology and philosophy animating this influential segment of the new right. It is by no means an apology; their vision is antithetical to democratic humanism and is actively destroying our society and everything I hold dear. However, misunderstanding and misrepresenting them gets us nowhere. We must map the contours of their thinking to effectively address the threat they represent.
Beyond Simple Labels
Journalistic shorthand often defaults to 'anti-democratic,' 'illiberal,' or even 'fascist' when describing the ideologies coalescing among Silicon Valley's elite. While containing elements of truth, these terms fail to capture the specific character and proactive nature of this worldview. It is not simply a rejection of existing democratic norms but the active promotion of a complex, often contradictory, patchwork of heterodox ideas, values, and objectives aimed at radically reshaping society. This perspective draws energy from psychological drives and philosophical justifications distinct from mainstream American political thought.
Consider the broad ethical consensus underpinning much of Western, particularly American, political discourse (representing perhaps 70% of the populace). Despite divergent origins—Enlightenment-derived secular reason versus Abrahamic divine revelation—these paths historically converged on core values. Secular thinkers, employing utilitarianism, natural law, or social contract theory, often deduced the importance of universal human rights, democratic governance, and a degree of egalitarianism. Similarly, Abrahamic traditions, emphasizing concepts like the imago Dei (humans made in God's image) and charity, arrived at analogous conclusions regarding inherent human dignity and the common good. This convergence established a shared ethical framework, an Overton Window of basic human decency.
The technofascist mindset operates largely outside this established window, fundamentally challenging its foundational assumptions about human equality and the desirability of democratic governance. This is the single most crucial point to grasp.
To grasp this ideology requires a more precise lens. The term "technofascism" shouldn't be used lightly or as a mere epithet. While lacking the specific aesthetics and mythologies of 20th-century fascism, it shares a core impulse: a radical belief in hierarchy, a rejection of democratic egalitarianism, a form of vitalism centered on technological progress and intelligence, and the conviction that a technologically empowered elite has the right, even the duty, to dictate humanity's future. It is a distinct flavor of authoritarianism adapted for the digital age, sharing chilling conclusions with historical precedents even as it differs in means and specific goals. Understanding its unique psychological and philosophical architecture is a strategic necessity.
Moving beyond generalized outrage requires mapping their presuppositions, grasping the allure of their abstractions (like systemic solutions to human problems), and recognizing the internal logic, however disturbing. Critically, this prevents constructing simplistic strawmen. Dismissing these figures as merely greedy or nihilistic is inaccurate and strategically foolish. They are often intensely values-driven, but by principles alien to democratic humanism: establishment of rigid "meritocratic" hierarchies, radical efficiency, intelligence optimization, the long-term propagation of a specific vision of consciousness (often digital), and grand technological projects prioritized over present human well-being. Recognizing these underlying values confirms the gravity of the challenge: they aren't just negating existing structures but actively building a specific, hierarchical, and often deeply anti-humanistic future based on an incomensurable, albeit dangerous, worldview.
Demographics
The individuals propagating these ideas are largely founders, venture capitalists, engineers, and ex-finance professionals who have migrated to the tech sector. They are not monolithic; diversity exists in background, origin, and specific beliefs. While predominantly white and male, this is not exclusively the case. What unites them is less a shared demographic profile and more a pattern of overlapping psychological traits and philosophical inclinations.
At the core, these traits include: an embrace of hierarchy, a disdain for the perceived irrationality of the masses, a preference for abstraction over messy lived reality, and a conviction in the power of a select, intelligent few (amplified by technology) to radically reshape humanity according to their designs. This mindset often finds fertile ground in communities and platforms like LessWrong and Slate Star Codex, hubs for rationalist thought that emphasize logic, Bayesian reasoning, and systems thinking. While not inherently fascist, the intense focus on rationality and optimization within these communities can sometimes bleed into a devaluation of unquantifiable human experience and a susceptibility to elitist or utilitarian frameworks that justify radical social engineering.
Core Tenets
The technofascist worldview rests on twelve interconnected psychological tendencies and philosophical justifications for their worldview.
1. A Cynical View of Humanity
At the core of this worldview lies a deeply cynical perspective on human nature. Others are primarily seen as tools to be manipulated, obstacles to overcome, or weaklings to be exploited rather than as equals deserving of dignity and respect. This mindset embraces a fundamental belief that everyone is ultimately out for themselves—that altruism is merely disguised self-interest and empathy a weakness to be overcome. This cynicism serves a dual purpose: it justifies exploitative behavior as simply "seeing reality clearly" while simultaneously providing psychological insulation against guilt. By framing humanity as inherently selfish and manipulative, one's own predatory actions become not just acceptable but strategically necessary in a dog-eat-dog world where only the ruthless survive and thrive.
Others have value only insofar as they are useful to the individual coupled with a belief that they deserve special treatment or are justified in exploiting others. They embody Thucydides' brutal principle that "the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must."
2. Nietzschean Hierarchies and Randian Elitism
A crudely interpreted Nietzschean framework often provides philosophical cover for pre-existing elitist impulses. The psychological driver is a need for differentiation and superiority, manifesting as a stark division: "us" (the intelligent, rational "builders") versus "them" ("normies," "mundanes", "takers", "NPCs"). This categorization enables radical dehumanization, rendering empathy unnecessary. The underlying assumption is that most humans are essentially worthless and unthinkingly self-destructive—mere obstacles to progress rather than beings with inherent dignity. Philosophically, a bastardized "master morality" emerges: what advances the elite's project is good; what hinders it (like democratic processes reflecting the "herd's" values) is bad. This resonates strongly with the objectivist philosophy of Ayn Rand, celebrating heroic individual creators and dismissing altruism and collective well-being as weaknesses. History is viewed as the story of great men driving progress, justifying the concentration of power in the hands of a perceived cognitive elite—the self-styled architects of the future who must either fundamentally change humanity or escape from it entirely.
As a result, social rules, laws, and ethical principles are seen as arbitrary constraints for others, or as weaknesses to be exploited, not as binding guides for personal behavior. "Might makes right" or "rules are for fools."
3. The Allure of the Abstract
A powerful preference for abstraction, coupled with discomfort with the ambiguities of concrete human experience, is key. The world is more manageable reduced to data, algorithms, and systems. Lived experience—contradictory, emotional, unquantifiable—is messy and inefficient. Psychologically, this can be a defense against overwhelming empathy or reflect a cognitive style struggling with qualitative data. Philosophically, it aligns with extreme rationalism or Platonic idealism, where the abstract model is more real than its imperfect manifestations. Social problems become engineering challenges, ethical dilemmas logic puzzles. This detachment allows decisions with devastating human consequences to be made with cool, analytical remove—a trait often rewarded in competitive business environments.
4. Grand Narratives of Destiny
This comfort with abstraction fuels a fixation on narratives of immense scale and temporal scope: the long-term trajectory of humanity, existential risks (X-risks), demographic shifts perceived as crises, interstellar colonization, or esoteric concerns like the simulation hypothesis. Psychologically, this focus provides a sense of profound purpose, positioning adherents as pivotal figures safeguarding or shaping humanity's ultimate destiny. It offers intellectually stimulating problems that appear cleaner and more tractable than immediate, complex social issues. It can also function as intellectual escapism or a means of sublimating anxiety, focusing on potentially controllable (or at least modellable) abstract future threats (like misaligned Artificial General Intelligence) over immediate, intractable ones (like present-day inequality or the localized impacts of climate change). Philosophically, this manifests in ideologies such as Longtermism, which explicitly prioritizes the potential welfare of vast numbers of future (potentially digital) beings over the needs and rights of present human populations. This provides a utilitarian framework to justify neglecting immediate crises in favor of speculative, large-scale projects aligned with the technological elite's interests and capabilities.
5. Sci-Fi as Blueprints Over Allegories
Engagement with science fiction often bypasses metaphorical or cautionary interpretations, treating narratives instead as literal roadmaps or desirable future states. Dystopian concepts, exemplified by the "Torment Nexus" meme ("Sci-Fi Author: I invented the Torment Nexus as a cautionary tale. Tech Company: At long last, we have created the Torment Nexus from the classic novel Don't Create the Torment Nexus!"), are frequently approached not as warnings, but as intriguing systems-design challenges. This reflects an engineering mindset projected onto narrative: if a concept is imaginable, it is potentially achievable and perhaps even desirable to build. Philosophically, this often stems from a form of technological determinism—the belief that technology dictates social evolution and reality itself is ultimately programmable. Ethical considerations become secondary to technical feasibility or conceptual "interestingness." Canonical works are often selectively interpreted: Star Trek's underlying socialist humanism is ignored in favor of its technological marvels; Lord of the Rings can be read as validating rightful hierarchy against chaotic industrial forces; Dune's explicit warnings against charismatic messiahs and centralized control are overshadowed by fascination with its portrayal of elite power dynamics; Iain M. Banks' anarchist/socialist Culture series is sometimes bizarrely reinterpreted through libertarian or even neoconservative lenses.
6. Performative Contrarianism
A drive for intellectual dominance frequently manifests as performative contrarianism: adopting provocative stances and insisting that all topics are open for "rational debate," irrespective of potential harm or established domain expertise. Psychologically, the goal is often less about truth-seeking and more about winning arguments, demonstrating intellectual superiority, and provoking emotional responses in others ("triggering the normies"), which are then interpreted as proof of the opponent's irrationality. Philosophically, this is often cloaked in the language of radical free speech absolutism but typically lacks genuine intellectual curiosity or epistemic humility. The objective is often to demonstrate intellectual prowess by defending taboo or discredited ideas (e.g., racial theories of intelligence, eugenics, the abolition of democracy) precisely because they are provocative. Transgression for its own sake, framed as intellectual courage, becomes a valued trait within this worldview.
7. Systematizing Social Aversion
An underlying discomfort with direct, messy, and emotionally complex human interaction can be observed. Social awkwardness or neurodivergent traits, rather than being addressed through social adaptation, can morph into an ideological preference for systems that minimize the need for nuanced interpersonal engagement. Code, formal logic, mathematics, and impersonal market mechanisms become preferred mediators of human relations. Philosophically, this aligns with radical libertarian or anarcho-capitalist ideals, envisioning society governed primarily by voluntary contracts and objective, often code-based, rules, thereby minimizing the need for collective decision-making, negotiation, or empathy-driven compromise. Technology is viewed as the primary tool to achieve this state, engineering away the "friction" of human difference and disagreement. This connects directly to the "Exit" philosophy and concepts like "Network States"—the notion that the technological elite should be free to opt out of traditional societies and establish their own technologically mediated, regulation-free enclaves.
8. Hell-Baked Social Darwinism
This evocative phrase captures a bleak, quasi-Social Darwinian view of human existence and origins. "Hell" refers to the brutal, indifferent process of natural selection operating over deep evolutionary time—a Hobbesian struggle driving adaptation through immense suffering and death, devoid of inherent purpose or morality. "Baked" signifies the belief that this unforgiving process has indelibly forged our fundamental nature; intelligence, competitiveness, status-seeking, even consciousness itself are seen as products marked by these violent origins. In this perspective, humanity is metaphorically "hell-spawn"—products of an evolutionary inferno, with these traits deeply and perhaps immutably ingrained. This view directly undermines humanist narratives of inherent dignity or Enlightenment ideals of autonomous reason, framing existence as governed by harsh power dynamics that can, and perhaps should, continue to operate through techno-capitalist competition, largely unconstrained by traditional ethical considerations. It stands in stark contrast to both secular humanism and religious doctrines emphasizing intrinsic human value.
9. Faith as Social Technology
While frequently populated by atheists or agnostics, a non-trivial and influential subculture within this sphere embraces or strategically utilizes religion, particularly Christianity, on purely instrumental grounds. This is typically not rooted in personal faith or theological conviction but sees religion as a potent social technology—a tool for imposing order, structuring civilization, maintaining social cohesion, and ensuring stability among the "masses" deemed incapable of self-governance through reason alone. Christianity, often a culturally conservative or nationalist variant rather than one emphasizing universal love or social justice, is valued for its perceived historical role in forging Western civilization, providing a unifying cultural narrative, acting as a bulwark against perceived threats (communism, Islam, progressive ideologies), and offering a moral code conducive to social order and productivity. It echoes Edward Gibbon's observation regarding the Roman elite, who viewed traditional religion as "equally false" to the philosopher but "equally useful" to the magistrate—a mechanism for social control and civilizational identity maintenance within their larger societal engineering project.
10. Empathy is a Bug
Within the technofascist worldview, empathy is often viewed not merely as a secondary concern but as a fundamental design flaw in the human cognitive apparatus—a dangerous bias ("pathological altruism", "ruinous empathy", or "suicidal empathy") that hinders rational decision-making and obstructs progress towards optimized futures. Whereas democratic and humanist traditions typically regard empathy as a cornerstone of morality and social cohesion, this mindset frequently reframes it as a source of irrationality, inefficiency, and exploitable vulnerability. Echoing certain segments of the contemporary right who view empathy as a "toxin" or "civilizationally suicidal" when applied "incorrectly" (e.g., towards perceived out-groups), the technofascist sees it as a cognitive glitch that prioritizes immediate, localized, often emotionally charged inputs ("sob stories," individual suffering) over objective, data-driven, systems-level analysis and long-term strategic imperatives.
This perspective contends that empathy clouds judgment, leading to suboptimal resource allocation and preventing necessary, albeit potentially harsh, decisions required for perceived progress—whether defined as market efficiency, technological acceleration, or ensuring the dominance of a specific "high-functioning" demographic. Extending empathy towards the economically displaced, the marginalized, or those struggling to adapt to technological disruption is seen as counter-productive sentimentality, a misfiring of evolved instincts that impedes systemic dynamism. Why expend resources or alter system parameters based on the subjective discomfort of units deemed less valuable or adaptive? This cold calculus provides a crucial psychological and philosophical permission structure: by defining empathy itself as flawed, irrational, or even dangerous, adherents can justify policies, technologies, and social structures that may cause widespread suffering or exacerbate inequality, framing their indifference not as cruelty, but as the rational detachment necessary for achieving a higher, albeit colder, objective. It enables the dehumanization required to treat populations as data sets and societal disruption as mere friction in the relentless drive towards an engineered future, excusing potentially devastating human costs as the unavoidable price of optimization or supposed civilizational "upgrades."
11. Millenarianism
A crucial element is a distinct form of millenarianism—an urgent belief in an impending societal transformation, catastrophe, or technological rupture, often framed in quasi-religious terms like the "Singularity," "Collapse," "The Event," "Transformation," or even a secular "Rapture." The perceived timeframe for these events is often remarkably short, measured in years or even months, fostering a sense of living in the final days of the current human era.
This apocalyptic or transformative expectation is not merely abstract speculation; it drives concrete actions, political alignments, and directs significant capital flows. The prevailing narrative often depicts humanity hurtling towards existential threats (runaway climate change, pandemics, societal breakdown, misaligned AI), necessitating radical, elite-driven interventions and hard choices about who and what can be "saved." This concept of "exit" is best described in Douglas Rushkoff's book Survival of the Richest.
This manifests in various interconnected ideologies and projects:
- Transhumanism: Seeking to transcend biological limitations through human-machine integration, cognitive enhancement, radical life extension, or ultimately, uploading consciousness into digital substrates or AI.
- Existential Risk Mitigation (aligned with Longtermism): Focusing immense resources on preventing low-probability, high-impact future catastrophes, sometimes at the expense of addressing present suffering.
- The "Exit" Strategy: Advocating withdrawal from existing nation-states into technologically advanced, privately governed enclaves ("charter cities," seasteading, network states)—effectively creating high-tech lifeboats for a select elite.
- Prepping for the Apocalypse: Both at the elite level (billionaire bunkers in New Zealand, fortified compounds) and promoted to a wider base (stockpiling resources, distrusting government).
- AI Supremacy: A belief, sometimes stated explicitly (like Elon Musk's alleged comment about humanity being a "biological bootloader for digital superintelligence"), that AI is the next stage of evolution, justifying potentially devastating resource consumption (energy, water, minerals) to bring it about. For example, former Google CEO Eric Schmidt acknowledged AI's massive energy needs, potentially necessitating planet-incinerating fossil fuel use to enable this "higher" intelligence.
- Secular Rapture: Even secular elites adopt narratives mirroring the Christian Rapture—a belief that a chosen few will escape earthly collapse (via technology, space colonization, or digital transcendence) while the rest are left behind. Musk's obsession with Mars colonization exemplifies this: a "multiplanetary" future as an ark, seemingly justifying the potential sacrifice of Earth's habitability.
This apocalyptic framing, whether rooted in secular techno-optimism/pessimism or instrumentalized religious narratives, creates a potent, dangerous ideology. It justifies dismantling regulations, ignoring climate change, promoting social division, and concentrating power, all under the guise of preparing for or navigating an inevitable collapse—an end they are often actively accelerating through their ventures in AI, crypto, and deregulation.
12. Death Anxiety
Underlying many of these pursuits, particularly transhumanism, is often an intense preoccupation with personal mortality, interpretable psychologically as a defense mechanism against overwhelming death anxiety. An apparent inability to process or accept human finitude, potentially coupled with extreme narcissism or self-regard, can lead to a profound denial of mortality. This anxiety is then sublimated into technologically fantastical projects aimed at transcending biological limits and achieving indefinite lifespans or digital immortality.
(13. Chemical Catalysts)
I add this as a seperate point, because it's not universal. But notable enough to mention.
A discernible subculture within these techno-elite circles engages significantly with psychedelic and dissociative substances (e.g., LSD, psilocybin, ketamine). While not ubiquitous, this practice sometimes correlates with the adoption of increasingly esoteric, grandiose, and detached beliefs. Fueled by drug-induced experiences perceived as revelatory, some individuals may develop quasi-messianic complexes, viewing themselves as uniquely enlightened figures destined to guide humanity's transition. This can merge with a fervent desire to "immanentize the eschaton"—to force the arrival of a predicted singularity or societal transformation through accelerated technological and social disruption. Concepts like simulation theory can shift from philosophical thought experiments to deeply held convictions about the fundamental unreality of existence, potentially further eroding empathetic connection to others or fostering solipsistic "main character" syndromes. This drug-facilitated dissociation can contribute to erratic decision-making, bizarre personal behaviors, and an even more profound detachment from shared consensus reality, reinforcing a sense of operating on a higher plane where conventional rules and ethical concerns seem irrelevant.
Takeaways
The technofascist mind represents a potent confluence of psychological needs and philosophical rationalizations. It combines a drive for hierarchy and control with a cognitive preference for abstraction and systems. It embraces grand, apocalyptic narratives that provide purpose and justify extreme measures, interprets science fiction literally as a roadmap, employs performative rationality as intellectual armor, and seeks to engineer away human messiness through technology and libertarian frameworks. Its worldview can be bleakly deterministic and embracing social Darwinism. It rejects empathy as cognitive bias and sees it as a source of irrationality, inefficiency, and exploitable weakness.
Understanding their internal mental architecture is vital. This mindset poses a profound challenge to democratic norms, ethical considerations grounded in humanism, and the very concept of a shared future. It seeks not just to build technologies but to redefine reality according to its own hierarchical, systematized, and profoundly anti-humanistic values. It operates with the conviction that only a select few truly matter in the grand scheme, and almost any action can be justified in pursuit of their technologically-mediated aspirations, because, in their calculus, the rest of humanity is ultimately expendable.
Therefore, it is crucial for public to recognize and clearly articulate just how radically outside the broad spectrum of American traditions and values this technofascist mindset truly operates. Figures embodying this ideology, like Musk, are not merely eccentric outliers or hyper-capitalists; they represent a fundamental break from the hard-won norms of democratic participation, egalitarian respect, and basic human empathy that, despite imperfections, form the bedrock of mainstream American and ethical consensus (whether derived from religious or secular humanist roots). Their calculated dismissal of human costs, their instrumental view of the masses as "NPCs," their casual disregard for established social contracts, and their profound lack of demonstrable empathy manifest in behaviors often indistinguishable from clinical descriptions of antisocial personality disorder or sociopathy mixed with a strange religious fervour about their self-percieved looming apocalypses. This is a potent mixture for people who are not just unwell, but actively dangerous.
These are not the flawed but recognizable conservative leaders of the past; they represent an entirely different breed, driven by alienating ideologies and psychological architectures that make them fundamentally unfit to steer society or dictate the trajectory of human history. Exposing the chilling extremity of their worldview, stripped bare of its techno-utopian gloss, is essential to ensuring they are not mistaken for legitimate visionaries, but recognized as deeply distrurbed men who are building towards a future few would willingly choose. And that can shift elections.