The God that Glitched
Matthew Gasda on why the simulation theory is the religion of our time.
Are you living in a simulation?
Nick Bostrom, a famous British philosopher, thinks it is highly probable that we are all living in a simulation created by an alien species. Here he explains why. Many people, including Elon Musk and Joe Rogan, find Bostrom’s argument compelling.
In today’s essay, playwright, novelist and WoC correspondent argues that Bostrom’s simulation argument has evolved into a simulation religion — the stilted worldview of a culture without a taste for beauty.
— Santiago Ramos, executive editor
In 2003, philosopher Nick Bostrom presented what he carefully termed the “simulation argument” (SA) — a probabilistic thought experiment that posits that, if there are advanced civilizations with Godlike computing power anywhere in base physical reality, then we are overwhelmingly likely to be living in a simulation ourselves. Bostrom reasons that, if posthuman civilizations ever develop the computing power to run detailed simulations of conscious beings then the total number of simulated beings will easily exceed those in base reality.
Think of it this way: a single human gamer playing World of Warcraft can simulate thousands of non-player characters in a single session; posthuman civilizations with godlike computing power could simulate entire histories populated with billions of human minds. If civilizations can reach a sufficient level of advancement without destroying themselves, then we are part of their simulations. If we are not simulations, that means that reaching that level of civilization is likely impossible. Either we are part of any number of Godlike computers’ simulations, or no such computer can be built for whatever reasons.
This thought experiment, however, has since metastasized into a folk belief and a meme — simulation theory (ST) — which asserts that we are living in a simulation because those advanced civilizations must exist somewhere. ST leans into the scope of what we don’t know, the feeling that there must be something more: the universe is so large, and perhaps multiple, than one or more of those Godlike simulators must be out there somewhere; we just gotta be a simulation, probabilistically. In the last few years, with increasing frequency and amplitude, thanks in no small part to Elon’s tweets, ST has become a part of our lexicon — “We’re living in a simulation; The simulation is breaking; The simulation is fucking crazy bro.” Simulation theory has seeped into both our lexicon and our phenomenology; many suddenly have the feeling that the simulation is fraying. ST, as a folk belief, is changing human experience.
And this — this pragmatic cash value, this ability to change our relationship to ourselves and the world around us — rather than the epistemic status of either the SA or ST — is what interests me. I suspect ST, traveling through our cultural bloodstream in meme form, is malignant: it justifies psychological disengagement from reality because it downgrades reality to the status of video game, an advanced civilization’s home movie. With startling casualness, mass culture has internalized, and normalized, an idea of creation, and an ontology, that is compatible with the most extreme forms of nihilism and solipsism. If life doesn’t feel real to people, then ST explains why; no fuss, no stress: it’s all fake.
But this is where I think critical engagement with ST really gets interesting. I hypothesize that SA has been disseminated as ST because we can no longer imagine a God in our own image, and have instead reworked the idea of God into a computer. Ontologically, Bostrom’s depiction of Godlike simulators (and Godlike simulators simulating Godlike simulators ... simulators nested inside of simulators) bears so much resemblance to religion that it’s functionally indistinguishable from religion. It is basically an ultra-reductionist, ultra-scientistic vision of how God or Gods or higher or lower levels of reality could exist (like in Buddhism). In pragmatic terms, I’m not really sure what the point of thinking about SA is. The only point in engaging with either SA or ST is that you want to: the theory allows you to experience less experiential friction; you don’t have to worry so much; you don’t have to try to puzzle out why you’re on earth anymore, or what it’s all for. You aren’t really here.
Stated thusly, simulation theory and God ultimately are versions of the same thesis with different names and points of emphasis; simulation theory is a blend of monotheism and Buddhism without any duties, demands, or standard practices. Moreover, the trope of simulation theory better fits our current understanding of ourselves, and the direction of our technological civilization; it projects an astonishingly anthropomorphic idea of the divine: simulational theory is a narcissistic new projection of a God who resembles what we’ve become. We live more and more on and through screens; so God must too.
I don’t expect this epistemic trend to reverse. As our own brains become more enmeshed and embedded within computer technology, or as in the age of Neuralink, computer technology is sewn directly onto our brains — vas we become less embodied, less emotional, more synthetic, not just through an engagement with screen technology but with psychopharmaceutical drugs, as we spend more time indoors, less time socializing, have less real sex, more simulated sex, love, friendship — the more we are going to be prone to imagine that the divinity, the nature of reality, is like that: simulated.
An atheist might argue: “So what? Divinities are always invented in the mirror.” Freud, deeply atheistic, suggested, for instance, that the Jews got the idea of a single God from wandering in a desert haunted by a single relentless sun, and that polytheistic religions were religions of the forest and jungle, where life forms were myriad and polyphonic. So we think of God as a computer, a simulating machine, because that’s what we spend all day looking at, experiencing, interacting with — what difference does it make? The image of the divine will evolve as we evolve, or devolve. ST’s popularity is anthropologically inevitable.
Maybe. I would respond simply by saying, even if you don’t think any God or Godlike simulator exists, ST is an aesthetically ugly idea. In a pragmatic sense, it justifies turning off, turning away, and living indoors, away from contact with corporeality. It’s a blank check to accept an incorporeal framework for our lives. And it’s an idea — a tropological structure — that lacks lyrical resonance. Maybe Freud was right and the Jews got the idea of monotheism from the sun, but the sun is a rich and suggestive trope; as is the rainforest; as is nature in general. Ideas of God derived from nature have a similar richness because they’re developed on earth, inspired by nature — by the experience of coming into contact with something that in itself is alive and real, semi-visible but also sublime. The sun, the jungle, the moon, the forest, the desert, the stars ...
So, even if you think life contains no metaphysical twists or surprises, even if you’re a strict atheist, you still might see the spread of ST as a folk belief as a bad thing; it is a sign our civilization is becoming scientific, sterile, and boring — crass science fiction. Fervent Christian belief stimulated the construction of Gothic cathedrals; Islamic civilization stimulated the Alhambra; Hindu devotion stimulated the temples of Khajuraho; Buddhist faith stimulated Angkor Wat; ancient astrological cults stimulated the Parthenon and Stonehenge. What does fervent belief in ST stimulate? Sober raves?
And what higher plane does ST conjure? Glimpsing the base reality for a split second? Unplugging like Neo from the Matrix? Simulation theory betrays an unwillingness to find God interesting, deep, or beautiful anymore; it betrays an unwillingness to find any mystery inside the human soul or the human body. Ironically, as software for civilization, ST sucks: it lacks the greatness, the complexity and depth, of world religions.
And what if you aren’t an atheist? What if you are agnostic? A wavering believer? What if you are God-haunted — uncertain ... fearful and trembling? Is it possible that aesthetic differences might reflect truth and that Freud’s sociological observation about how civilizations tend to form God in the image of their immediate environments isn’t proof that God doesn’t exist — only that He might not exist in exactly the form we project for him? Then you really ought to guard against ST, because at best, it is a lazy, narcissistic trope for the possibility of revelation that inhibits and disincentives spiritual emotion or disciplining practices; it is not proper fuel for the soul.
With all this in mind, I will end with the following warning: simulation theory will become popular, widespread, and accepted in proportion to the degree to which our lives are automated, pointless, numb, and locked onto screens. The more it becomes reflexive, folk wisdom, the less older, richer, more aesthetic forms of wisdom will be able to move us closer to the truth. We will walk through Chartres and when the light streaming through the stained glass hits our eyes, we will only see the fraying Matrix code, and not a sign of something that transcends reason, and metaphor itself.
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Sed quis simulat ipsos simulatores?
"I’m not really sure what the point of thinking about SA is. "
I agree. A few paragraphs earlier, the writer mentions "the pragmatic cash value" of Simulation Theory. I don't think there is any. To determine the pragmatic cash value of a hypothesis, you ask how the universe would be different if it were true. But nothing would be different if the Simulation Theory were true. If we were living in a simulation, what could prove to us that we were not real? And what would it even mean for us not to be real? If the Simulator entered our world and started to make us disappear one by one, we would experience it as a change in our reality. Because the simulation -- complete with the laws of physics and biology, the Homeric epics and the 19th-century Russian novels, Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven -- is our reality, a world without them would be a different reality (ie, simulation).
Reality is simply what there is. You can discover whole new realms of reality, But you can't get outside it. If you think you have, you've simply expanded our conception of the real. Which is actually quite an achievement -- but it's not, except as a manner of speaking, creating a whole new reality.