What is the Dark Enlightenment/Neoreaction/NRx and Why Christians Must Oppose It, By James Reed

I will give an outline of Curtis Yarvin's thought and the Dark Enlightenment (also referred to as Neoreaction or NRx), drawing from the article "Meet the Man Whose Philosophy Has Influenced Peter Thiel and the Technocrats" by Derrick Broze on The Last American Vagabond (published February 20, 2025),

https://www.thelastamericanvagabond.com/influences-modern-technocrat/

This is followed by an analysis of how these ideas align with the Vance-Trump worldview and a critique rooted in Christian conservative values, which this blog is based upon.

Curtis Yarvin, often writing under the pseudonym Mencius Moldbug, is a central figure in the Dark Enlightenment, a philosophical movement he co-founded with Nick Land. His ideas, initially developed on his blog Unqualified Reservations (2007–2014), reject modern democratic liberalism in favour of hierarchical, authoritarian governance. The Last American Vagabond article highlights Yarvin's growing influence among technocrats like Peter Thiel, situating his thought within a broader critique of progressive elites and democratic systems.

Yarvin's core philosophy critiques the "Cathedral"—a term he uses for the interlocking web of academia, media, and government that enforces progressive orthodoxy; this term already hints at anti-Christian thought. He argues that democracy is inherently unstable, prone to manipulation by this Cathedral, and fails to deliver effective governance. Instead, he advocates for a return to monarchy or a CEO-like autocrat—a "neocameralist" system—where a single ruler, unbound by elections, manages society as a corporation, prioritising order and efficiency over individual liberties. This system would replace money-driven politics with a meritocratic elite, ideally technologists or engineers, wielding absolute power.

The Dark Enlightenment, as a broader movement, builds on this by rejecting Enlightenment ideals like equality and universal rights, drawing inspiration from thinkers like Thomas Carlyle (who glorified strong leaders) and James Burnham (who analysed power elites in The Machiavellians). It embraces a deterministic view of human nature, often citing biological hierarchies—race, class, or intellect—as justification for inequality. Yarvin's vision includes dismantling welfare states, progressive education, and multicultural policies, favouring a society where power concentrates in the hands of a capable few, unhindered by populist sentiment.

The Last American Vagabond article ties Yarvin's influence to Peter Thiel, a key financier of J.D. Vance's political rise and a Trump ally. Vance, now Vice President as of 2025, and Trump's second administration, reflect elements of this worldview, though not as a direct blueprint. Thiel's funding of Vance's Senate campaign and his technocratic leanings—evident in his support for AI, surveillance tech, and centralised control—mirror Yarvin's vision of elite governance. Trump's administration, with its emphasis on strongman leadership, deregulation, and scepticism of institutional norms, aligns with Yarvin's disdain for the Cathedral and democratic inefficiencies.

Vance's rhetoric, blending populism with critiques of cultural elites, echoes Yarvin's rejection of progressive dominance, though filtered through a more accessible, nationalist lens. Trump's reliance on tech moguls like Elon Musk (X posts laud his influence) and Thiel suggests a technocratic streak, with policies favouring AI-driven solutions, mass deportation via military assets, and a "biosecurity" agenda (Last American Vagabond, November 30, 2024). This technocratic-authoritarian hybrid—where power consolidates in a loyal elite—resonates with Yarvin's neocameralism, even if Trump's bombast contrasts with Yarvin's intellectual tone. Social media posts explicitly link Musk, Thiel, and Vance to Yarvin's anti-democratic ethos, framing their influence as a Dark Enlightenment foothold in MAGA.

However, the fit isn't seamless. Trump's populism—rallying "the people" against elites—clashes with Yarvin's elitism, which dismisses mass input. Vance's Christian rhetoric and focus on working-class woes also diverge from Yarvin's secular, hierarchical purity. The administration's Zionist leanings (Last American Vagabond, October 28, 2024) add a geopolitical layer absent from Yarvin's domestic focus, suggesting a pragmatic adaptation rather than a full embrace.

From a Christian conservative perspective—grounded in Biblical principles of human dignity, moral order, and stewardship—both Yarvin's Dark Enlightenment and its echoes in the Vance-Trump worldview raise profound concerns.

First, Yarvin's rejection of equality contradicts the Christian belief in all humans as image-bearers of God (Genesis 1:27). His hierarchical determinism, often flirting with intellectual superiority, denies the intrinsic worth of every soul, a cornerstone of Christian ethics. While conservatives may share Yarvin's critique of progressive overreach, his dismissal of universal moral law—replacing it with power dynamics—undermines the Biblical call to justice and mercy (Micah 6:8).

Second, Yarvin's autocratic vision clashes with the Christian conservative value of limited government accountable to God and the people. Scripture warns against unchecked power—kings are judged harshly when they oppress (1 Samuel 8:11-18)—and conservatives traditionally favour decentralised authority to protect liberty. Trump's strongman persona and Vance's technocratic allies flirt with this concentration of power, especially with AI-driven control grids (Last American Vagabond, November 30, 2024), raising fears of a secular idolatry where man supplants God. Social media posts even cast this as a precursor to Antichrist-like tyranny, a hyperbolic but telling Christian critique.

Third, the Dark Enlightenment's secular materialism—prioritising efficiency over spiritual purpose—rejects the Christian call to order society under God's kingdom (Matthew 6:33). Yarvin's technocratic utopia, with its corporate governance model, treats humans as cogs, not souls, a view antithetical to the sanctity of life upheld by conservatives. Trump's administration, while invoking faith, often pursues pragmatic ends (e.g., Thiel's transhumanist AI projects), risking a drift from Biblical moorings to technocratic hubris.

Yet, some alignment exists. Yarvin's critique of the Cathedral resonates with Christian conservative frustration at secular elites eroding traditional values—schools, media, and government pushing relativism over truth. Trump and Vance's pushback against this "woke" tide appeals to conservatives defending family, faith, and nation. But the remedy diverges: where Christians seek revival through moral renewal, Yarvin offers cold autocracy, and Vance-Trump blend populism with technocracy, neither fully satisfying the call to godly governance.

Curtis Yarvin's Dark Enlightenment, with its anti-democratic, elitist core, offers a radical critique of modernity that partly informs the Vance-Trump worldview through technocratic allies like Thiel. Their administration adapts Yarvin's ideas—strong leadership, distrust of institutions—into a populist-technocratic hybrid, distinct from his pure neocameralism. From a Christian conservative lens, this raises alarms: it risks abandoning human dignity, divine accountability, and spiritual purpose for a sterile, power-centric order. While sharing a foe in progressive excess, the divergence in means and ends reveals a fundamental tension—faith in God versus faith in man's mastery—that conservatives must wrestle with as this influence grows.