Ideas Without Love

I recently sat through this hour-long interview between New York Times opinion columnist Ross Douthat and Peter Thiel. It was honestly a somewhat hypnotic experience for me. And on reflection, deeply disturbing.

Not because Thiel said anything overtly monstrous—quite the opposite. He was thoughtful, articulate, intellectually sophisticated. He demonstrated genuine insight into technological stagnation, political decay, and civilizational risk. He asked important questions about growth, progress, and human flourishing that deserve serious consideration.

What disturbed me was something far more subtle and far more dangerous: watching someone with extraordinary wealth and influence treat the most consequential questions of human existence—the survival of our species, the collapse of democracy, the rise of authoritarianism—with the detached fascination of someone solving an abstract puzzle.

When Douthat asked whether the human race should survive, Thiel hesitated. Not because he’s cartoonishly evil, but because he was genuinely weighing the intellectual merits of human extinction against some theoretical alternative. The pause wasn’t moral consideration—it was computational delay while his mind processed variables.

This is Peter Thiel’s fundamental pathology: He loves ideas more than people.

Everything becomes fodder for intellectual play. Nuclear war, economic collapse, technological stagnation, the rise of what he calls the “Antichrist”—these aren’t moral emergencies requiring urgent action, they’re fascinating problems to analyze. He discusses supporting Trump as a “venture capital” approach to politics, funding “disruptive agents” to see what happens. Democracy becomes a startup portfolio where some investments fail, some succeed, but human cost is just overhead in the grand experiment.

He can simultaneously worry about authoritarianism while funding the politicians who implement it. Fear technological stagnation while building surveillance tools that could enforce it permanently. Discuss the Antichrist while creating the infrastructure that figure would use. Because none of it is real to him—it’s all just variables in increasingly complex equations.

The most chilling moment comes when he describes his 2016 calculation: “Nobody would be mad at me for supporting Trump if he lost,” combined with his belief that Trump had a “50-50 chance of winning.” He treated the potential election of an authoritarian demagogue like a hedge fund position—manage downside risk while positioning for upside opportunity.

This is what Hannah Arendt called “the banality of evil”—not dramatic villainy, but the systematic evacuation of moral weight from decisions affecting millions of lives. Thiel doesn’t want to destroy civilization; he just treats it as expendable in service of more interesting ideas.

What makes this particularly dangerous is that Thiel possesses genuine intelligence and insight. He’s not ignorant or deluded. He correctly identifies patterns of decline, understands technological risks, predicts political dynamics. But he approaches all of it with the emotional engagement of someone debugging code rather than someone whose species’ survival depends on getting the answers right.

This is why his influence proves so seductive to other tech leaders. He offers the intellectual sophistication they crave while relieving them of the moral responsibility they fear. You can feel smart about supporting destructive policies because Peter Thiel provides elegant theoretical frameworks that make human suffering seem like unfortunate but necessary optimization.

The sleepwalkers follow him because he sounds so intelligent. But intelligence without empathy is just sophisticated sociopathy. And when that sociopathy controls billions of dollars and shapes government policy, it becomes an existential threat to everything that makes life worth living.

We’re not dealing with a Bond villain with an evil plan. We’re dealing with something worse: someone who might accidentally destroy everything because he’s more interested in being right about his predictions than preventing them from coming true.

The interview was hypnotic because Thiel’s analysis is often brilliant. But brilliance in service of detachment rather than human flourishing becomes a form of intellectual terrorism—using sophisticated reasoning to justify the inexcusable and make the unthinkable seem reasonable.

This is the face of our real enemy: not crude authoritarianism, but elegant nihilism. Not obvious evil, but the systematic conversion of human civilization into one man’s thought experiment.

And we’re all just variables in his equations.

Mike Brock is a former tech exec who was on the leadership team at Block. Originally published at his Notes From the Circus.