The UFO as a Hyperobject?

Introduction

I was encouraged to read James Madden’s Unidentified Flying Hyperobject: UFOs, Philosophy, and the End of the World by Jeff Kripal whose recent books have been immensely stimulating to me [How to Think Impossibly: About Souls, UFOs, Time, Belief, and Everything ElseThe Superhumanities: Historical Precedents, Moral Objections, New Realities].

Madden is a philosopher and his take on the UFO theme was immensely helpful in a completely unexpected way. He referred frequently to Kripal’s work, and to D. W. Pasulka [American Cosmic] and Jacques Vallee [Passport to Magonia and others]. I had to revisit Pasulka and Vallee to keep a perspective on what Maddon was arguing about.

The attention that serious academics are paying to the UFO theme is important. I have lost count of the UFO books I have read over the decades. These haven’t necessarily been written by authors with an academic background. That’s not an issue most of the time. But what academics like Madden, Kripal, and Pasulka bring is a level of intellectual rigour often absent. It isn’t that they have a superior perspective, just one that adds a valuable point of view.

I am aware that most folk with an interest in UFOs focus on the nuts-and-bolts aspect and the idea that ET is from elsewhere in our physical universe. But Luis Elizondo’s recent [2024] book Imminent: Inside the Pentagon’s Hunt for UFOs struck me as reviving the case for interdimensional travel that I first encountered in Vallee’s Passport to Magonia. Intrusions into our reality by interdimensional entities [and travel into interdimensional realms by humans] have been a consistent theme throughout human history.

Madden’s book has obliged me to rethink how I understand my own UFO and non-ordinary experiences. I had been heading down this path for some time in a somewhat disorganised manner, but Madden’s argument about the idea of a hyperobject anchored me and triggered a flood of insights.

I want below to reflect on those insights and my reaction to them. I should observe, however, that I am not trying to persuade the reader to my conclusions. They are based on my experiences and will not apply necessarily to the reader. The point of interest is that the UFO theme is far wider and more complex than the nuts-and-bolts perspective. As Jeff Kripal argues, we need to escape the temptation to think in either or terms and dare think both and– even if doing so immediately triggers us to recoil against the apparent impossibility of that being doable and valid.

Just for the record I am not saying no UFOs are of the nuts-and-bolts variety, just not all.

Are we dealing with a spectrum of experiences?

In a recent email I wrote [as a consequence of reading Madden], “As I reflected on my own experiences the two seemed at times intertwined. [this was my UFO experiences and my ‘regular’ non-ordinary experiences] I ended up with 3 categories – UFO related, UFO adjacent and experiences that had no discernible relationship with UFOs. It seems that it is a spectrum. The UFO content is either dialled right up, or so way down as to be indiscernible.”

Vallee has argued that the themes of UFO encounters are not confined just to UFOs and are sometimes replicated in folklore and religious traditions. So in terms of being disruptive of our normal, UFOs belong to a varied set of disruptions that share similar attributes with non-UFO experiences. How, or why, this might be the case is a question Madden offered a solution to.

But why is it a question worth asking? If your interest in UFOs is mainstream, there is no evident reason to think it is. My initial interest in UFOs was casually mainstream, partly because I had had a compelling sighting when I was 14. As a once intensely devoted sci fi addict I was completely comfortable with the idea of ET visiting us in nuts-and-bolts craft.

I also grew up with what are called paranormal experiences. I call them ‘non-ordinary’. They and UFOs collided in the early 1970s when I accidentally found myself involved in a group committed to communicating with ET. That intersection lasted less than a year. The UFO theme faded back to the mainstream and stayed that way until 1995 when there was another collision which became a fusion. But I stubbornly maintained an intellectual distinction between my non-ordinary experiences and UFOs because I had found no compelling means to fuse them. Madden’s articulation of a hyperobject offered an instrument to enable the fusing to happen.

The reader is better off seeking a discussion on hyperobjects than looking for a definition. I found the following definition via google. It wasn’t very helpful:

Hyperobjects occupy a high-dimensional phase space that results in their being invisible to humans for stretches of time. And they exhibit their effects interobjectively; that is, they can be detected in a space that consists of interrelationships between aesthetic properties of objects. I prefer to think of hyperobjects as ‘big ideas’ whose nature isn’t immediately apparent and whose contents are not evidently associated with it.

A point of argument and disagreement

Madden referred frequently to Prometheus in the context of him being the ‘god of technology’. He referred to Prometheus also as a hyperobject. He was referring to the Promethean gift of fire manifesting as technology and maybe epitomised in the UFO as part of a philosophical argument that I got badly distracted from following closely. It wasn’t that I was disagreeing, but I was seeing a far bigger picture.

Madden’s take on Prometheus struck me as being more literary than philosophical in that the business of him being the god of technology is similar to the invention of Lucifer. We first encounter Lucifer in Isaiah 14:12 in a bit of a rant about the plane Venus. He becomes the Christian devil in the same way the serpent of Eden is creatively fictionalised to serve rhetorical purposes. Prometheus was transformed into the god of technology via a fictional fiat.

That’s fine. Fictions are powerful instruments which can deliver useful truths. In this case neither Prometheus nor Lucifer are the original meanings of the stories that bore them. And, strangely they are also related. I’ll come to that.

Linking Prometheus to UFOs makes sense since presently we can see UFOs as the apex of technological development – from our perspective. But we are talking about the fictional Prometheus who has evolved out assuming that the stolen ‘fire’ is literally the fire we see in our physical world.

Why would we do that? Myths convey deep themes in narrative form. Obviously, fire is a necessary foundation of so much of our technology. We could have no metals, no glass, and so much else without the heat originally generated by fire. There is no doubt that fire in the physical world transformed humanity. But ‘fire’ has other meanings and associations – like generating warmth as communal focal point and giving light. Why take a thin slice of meaning and discard the rest? Why not see Prometheus as the god of community and the god of enlightenment?

Exactly why technologists want to appropriate a myth of this nature to champion their passion for technology isn’t explored sufficiently in my view. Perhaps there are useful commentaries of which I am unaware. Madden doesn’t strike me talking about an actual god, but more a symbol of a grand, but unarticulated idea. It seems folks like the idea the Promethean tale because it speaks to them, satisfying a need they may not have conscious knowledge of.

I am interested in this phenomenon because without it, Prometheus would be unknown to other than fans of the Greek tradition. So, when Madden says Prometheus is a hyperobject, does he mean as a symbol or as an actual god?

What is the big idea that UFOs signify?

The evolution of technology has had a singular pathway, and an aspect of fire has been critical. This is especially the case over the past few centuries. Nuclear energy is presently the most terrible analogue of fire we have developed. The association of UFO with nuclear weapons suggests a compelling relationship that has symbolic and moral connections.

We can fold back those connections to Prometheus as reason why we embarked on our perilous pathway. If the end is suicidal, are we blaming a symbol or a god? Is the UFO a moral warning against our reckless folly or a signal of future hope? Maybe both?

So, does the UFO occupy only the technological end of the spectrum of possible meaning? Or does it participate in a wider drama of meaning and morality?

We are disposed to see technology as something apart. We used to believe that humans uniquely were tool users. Now we know that’s an insubstantial conceit.

In between states of mind and confusion

I am working through Charles Taylor’s A Secular Age. I think its an intellectual masterpiece that is also very long and demanding. One of his early thoughts has stay with me. We have disenchanted the world through our rationalism and materialism. 

I think we are in a transitional phase as we find the basis for a new enchantment. This is what Kripal’s work is about – though he doesn’t use that term – to my recollection. 

Over 12 months ago I became fixed on the idea of the ‘future of human spirituality’. I still haven’t figured out why I had to specify ‘human’ spirituality. Could be to drive home an as yet unconscious rhetorical point.

That transition is vitally necessary as materialism and aspects of Christianity have waged war on a once thriving ecosystem of spirit. So, it is deeply interesting to consider exactly what the state of play is at the time that UFOs have emerged as a powerful theme in our culture.

The nuts-and-bolts devotees have their story – there’s a prospect of access to unlimited clean energy. Those claiming to be abductees have another perspective that has ecological and moral elements. If we allow both to fuse, we have a more holistic vision that blends both.

And then there Pasulka’s angle – that there’s an element of the religious that we need to factor in as well. There are aspects of how we respond to UFOs that are distinctly religious. In the background we have Prometheus as a possible god.

There is no doubt that Prometheus is a better god for us than Jehovah. The mere fact that he has been adopted by unbelievers as their god of technology makes this point.

What we are seeing with our evolving technology is what I see as a ‘techno-animism’ which seems to part of a drive to re-enchant our human-mediated reality. Are we moving toward an intelligent living technology that will create an ecosystem of the made which may one day mesh with ecosystem of the natural? Is there a god for that?

You gotta be kidding! Right?

No, I am not. If you don’t allow yourself to go where the evidence points you are engaging in dogma and apologetics. We are bedevilled by a deep suspicion of religion thanks to the way it has been done badly and has become a tyranny of dogma and coercion. I get that. But we do a lot of things badly that are wonderful when done well. I am thinking sex and food immediately. Who wants to be a starving celibate because of a few lousy experiences?

My point is that Madden almost goes there by declaring Prometheus a hyperobject, but what did he mean Prometheus is in this sense – a symbolic abstract or a god?

What is the ‘big idea’ behind UFOs? If we go beyond the nuts-and-bolts literalism, which surely we must, we end up with some kind of controlling mechanism which aligns the various manifestations of interdimensional contact into a continuum. That control, rule, or logic either arises from an entirely abstract intelligence, rather like mathematics, or a sentient one – maybe another case of both and?

So, UFO contact with Earthlings can’t be solely be a case of random ETs turning up here in their nuts-and-bolts spaceships because they fit a model that is echoed in human history as contact with fairies, demons, and gods. Our religions have been informed by such contacts. But not all contacts have a religious dimension. The consequences might also be philosophical or scientific. The UFO technology is a minor aspect of the contact.

Because our fixation on technology – a common theme of sci fi stories – can dominate our evaluation, we think of UFOs in predominantly technological terms. Historically any interdimensional craft’s technology would be of least importance to experiencers. And now, despite claims of secret reverse engineering, the best we might confidently assert is we really don’t understand the technology. We also don’t know where they come from, or why they are here – at least not in terms of any admitted public knowledge. 

The definitive impact UFOs have on us is to precipitate doubt about our current notions of reality. It wasn’t so long ago that our scientific community’s position was that we were alone in the universe and the very apex of intelligent life. That educated conceit was contradicted by the religious and contactees. We can maybe agree that UFOs have impaled our conceits.

Is there an intelligence governing the UFO phenomena?

What about gods?

I have no empathy with theists in terms of their dogmas, but I do understand the impulse to believe. What we believe in is mediated by personal experience, culture, and history. We all have our version of a big idea – with varying degrees of coherence and complexity.

I quit my family’s faith [Protestant Christianity] when I was 6 when I was punished for emulating Jesus and suggesting my parents do likewise. It was probably the latter that attracted the penalty. But they had sent me to Sunday school against my wishes under threat of physical chastisement. I liked Jesus. He was a nice man. So being punished for following his teachings was a deal breaker for me. Besides I was dealing with a bunch of non-ordinary stuff nobody wanted to know about.

That non-ordinary stuff ensured that while I quit religion, I had no motive to become an atheist or a materialist. I didn’t like the Christian god, and I wasn’t too keen on his followers, but I had a sense there was more to the story. I later practiced western ritual magick and Wicca. The idea that gods and goddesses were real was baked into those systems.

In the late 1970s I had experiences interacting with discarnate entities called ‘inner plan teachers’. Two who were associated with the occult orders I studied under provided me with compelling evidence that they were real. The 3rd I had lengthy interactions with via my partner at the time over a couple of years. I recorded many hours of our conversations and transcribed a lot.

To answer the question the reader will doubtless be forming about how I determined the experience was real I will simply observe that as a natural scientifically minded sceptic I did perform tests to assess whether it was. My partner, the channel, was filled with doubt. She feared what was happening was a projection from her subconscious and nothing about it was real. A good deal of my conversations with the teacher concerned her problems and the difficulties they were creating in the communication process. The communication sessions were eventually discontinued but I had no doubt they were genuine. I’d also exhaustively researched the theme of mediated communication. And I had no desire at all to delude myself.

That’s a long-winded intro to some remarks about the gods. Because we were engaging in ritual magic at the time I had some doubts about whether the gods we were invoking were real or human inventions. As I noted above, I am a sceptic. I want to pause and observe that a sceptic is not a denier, but a doubter. The word has been debased by materialist dogmatic deniers. Good scientists are sceptics. It is curiosity and doubt that make them good. I was a science nut before my non-ordinary experiences dominated my life and I took that commitment to doubt with me.

I was given several clear messages on the subject of gods:

  • They are very real.
  • They are of the One, not as the One. This was an emphatic distinction.
  • They might, from time to time, command human action – and this was pretty much non-optional.

This made what we were doing in ritual magic pretty petty to me. I often struggled to understand why we were invoking god forces for poorly formed reasons and quit the practice when my doubts overwhelmed motivation. I wasn’t into power for its own sake.

Back on track.

Subsequent non-ordinary experiences left me in no doubt that there was a potent non-ordinary intelligence influencing the world. But was it a god? I had no way of knowing. The thing about a hyperobject is that you never see all of it – just the bits impinging on your awareness.

This is what a lot of faithful don’t understand when they claim they speak to/are spoken to by God. They cannot know that. Their beliefs may lead them to that conclusion, and they make the claim based on those beliefs, but that’s all that can be honestly asserted. This is a reason why many innocent and gullible folks are duped by prophets and pastors who seem to others to be talking utter nonsense.

I have no doubt soever that there are non-physical agents with whom I interact and who can and do influence things on the physical plane. That’s based on substantial experience and is legit. Other folks have physical agents who influence things on their behalf. Let’s not discriminate on whether your influencer is physical or not. You can have a physical influencer, a priest, interceding on your behalf with a non-physical influencer – a saint.

The key question is whether such influences are real. Vallee surveys the spectrum of such claims in Passport to Magonia. And then we have UFO as a source of influence as reported by contactees and abductees.

My point is, as I have seen in my own life, that stuff can happen when non-physical and physical influencers work together. The physical influencer need have no idea what influences them. Whether this is an act of a god is a moot point. It may be an act in conformity with what is understood to be the god’s will or intent.

Can we know whether a god has acted in our favour? Unlikely. Can we know a god exists? Equally unlikely. The best we can hope for, most of the time, is that a reliable authority passes on a trusted insight or knowledge. And that is a vast scope for delusion and deception.

The legions fleeing Christianity found, despite claims, there is no reliable evidence its god exists, let alone that it is reliably effective in delivering the interventions claimed on its behalf. There are those for whom their faith generates effects in conformity with their beliefs. This is also close to what magick is – and this applies to any system of belief and practice.

There is justifiable scepticism about the reality of gods, and I am not discouraging such scepticism. Maintain it. Just step back from utter rejection.

Back to Prometheus

In the late 1970s I was a participant in several seriously strange occurrences that precipitated a frustrating interest in Prometheus. It was frustrating because the inner plane teacher we were in touch with insisted only in giving oblique hints on the grounds that his role was to teach us how to think, not tell us stuff. 

I must have a particularly stupid side because I made virtually no progress on thinking about Prometheus until I read Madden’s book. In the back of my mind I did recall that there were two pieces of information granted me. The first was that this ‘god’ is called Prometheus only in the Greek tradition – with which it seems we have past life links. I couldn’t get any information about who he was in other traditions – apparently not useful information. The second idea was that in thinking about Prometheus a useful symbol was the familiar Greek flaming torch.

The version of Prometheus Madden promoted is that of a ‘god technology’. The logic is obvious. Fire is the foundation of almost everything we think of as technology these days. But was that the fire that Prometheus stole from the gods? That’s unlikely because that kind of fire occurs in nature – via lightening strikes and volcanoes. 

Besides this is a myth laden with symbolism, not an incident report. It is more likely that the stolen ‘fire’ has a meaning drawn from how we evocatively use the word – or what it symbolises.

I had almost forgotten the flaming torch. What does that symbolise? A kind of illumination essentially – awareness. That sounds familiar. Isn’t that what happened in Genesis? The serpent conveys to Eve knowledge of good and evil, previously entirely owned by the God/s – a kind of theft involving deception. Prometheus deceived the gods. The serpent deceived Eve – as the story goes in what could simply be a deft bit of mythic blame shifting.

Comparing myths can be a fraught business at the best of times. I merely observe that here are two themes very close together once we see that the Promethean fire might be torch fuel to ‘enlighten’ human consciousness – just like the ‘knowledge of good and evil’.

We must be careful not to let materialists capture Prometheus and bind to the mountains of technology. I am not here asserting an actual Prometheus but a literary fiction that has evolved out of myth in a similar fashion to Lucifer. Both have their place and value in our culture but neither are connected to their sources in any real way. Neither is how they are interpreted mythic. Both are fictions and may have a symbolic value – just not a mythic one.

So why bother? Well, because I don’t think literary fictions can be hyperobjects. They are too ill-defined and insubstantial. I do think a god can be, though. This means we must separate literary fiction from myth before we can progress our thinking.

Absent compelling direct evidence, I don’t think we can ‘know’ whether gods exist. We can think or believe they do as a theory or a belief. But the idea of a god as a hyperobject appeals to me. The evidence must be the coherence of themes that at least get us to thinking there is the prospect of an organised unity. That doesn’t have to be absolute. It can be contextual. We are talking gods, not God, here.

Vallee makes the compelling point that what we see as sophisticated craft as UFO have been seen as exotic airships. Experiences are filtered through our knowledge, perceptions and imaginations. The UFO may or may not be a 3D object, but it certainly seems to be something that can appear to be – as well as whatever else experiencers imagine.

And here’s the problem. We can’t confirm the nature of the manifestations of any imputed hyperobject. So how can be form definitive notions about its nature?

I like the idea that the hyperobject might be a god some of us call Prometheus, and which may have been represented in the Eden myth as a contrarian snake. I like this idea simply because it shakes the hell out how we think – and there’s a risk there may be some truth in it all.

I call myself an animist deeply conscious that the word is carrying a heavier burden than it should in this context. But there’s not yet an alternative that bridges the dimensions of meaning it has for me.

I am completely comfortable with the idea of gods. While I may have been dumb about Prometheus in particular I have spent the last 40 years getting to grips the idea of gods being very real.

My present position is to assume there is a god we can call Prometheus and then behave in a way that might generate empirical consequences. Seeing this god as a hyperobject which might express as UFOs is going to take some doing. But what’s the point of having a theory if you can’t test it?

I am already cool with the idea that non-physical agents routinely impact material reality in intentional ways. Now I need to upscale. Do I think I am going to get unequivocal confirmation? I don’t know. When I started to type this my intent was to say ‘Frankly, No.’ But I had a firm intuition not to say that.

Back to UFOs

Are UFOs the form our mindsets have forced upon the inner plane dwellers who engage with us? Has our fixation with technology as the highest form of intelligent expression dictated how we accept inter dimensional communion? 

I don’t rule out that UFOs are also genuine craft for what appear to us as organic beings to travel in. they could be necessary vehicles to facilitate inter-dimensional travel as well.

Think of the car. It’s a nuts-and-bolts machine. It is also expressed in a huge variety of forms intended to appeal to our egos, conceits, delusions and dreams. None of those forms are necessary for the car’s essential utility – unless they are specific to functions – race car vs bush-basher for eg.

This nuts-and-bolts machine inhabits our cultural or psychological space way more than our physical space. It signifies more than the mere utility of moving through space. It has informed how our living spaces are designed – and experienced.

If we could imagine the idea car as a hyperobject, how would we describe it? It would maybe be close to being a kind of god. I don’t mean a big god, just a member of a family of gods – a functionary, not a ruler.

I am making the point that a vehicle that is very familiar with us has deep and complex with our psychology, culture, and life world. Maybe the UFO is, at its core, just a conveyance. But who is conveyed and why?

If we stick to the notion that UFOs convey ET or aliens, we need to dive into what those terms mean. A god is an ET. So is someone who comes from Sirius, or from a non-material dimension. Our myth traditions don’t tell us where these ‘others’ come from in any consistent way, but there is a blend of far off on this plane and somewhere else on other planes.

What we can know is that conscious intentional agents have been entering or intersecting with our sense of reality for as long as we have records. Sometimes we have needed to loosen up our grip on this reality via drugs or ritual or other practices. But ‘here’ seems more like a grand central station than a remote backwater that has led some to the ludicrous notion that we might ‘be alone’.

The specific idea of what we call a UFO has arisen in the age of flying machines. It must signify that it is more than what our machines can be. It is both metaphor and actuality. 

An audiobook I recently finished [Magnificent Rebels] made the compelling point that reason and imagination are fundamentally connected. The book concerns the late 19th century German romantic thinkers who thought that art and science were inseparable. It reminded me how materialism had censored so many alternatives to its dour utilitarianism. Its what Charles Taylor, in A Secular Age, described as ‘disenchantment’.

In a way the UFOs is our disenchanted perception of an interaction caused by the fact that we are condition to imagine we are alone in the cosmos. How might these interactions be perceived if we were free from that monstrously silly idea?

I seem to have spent my life struggling to dishabituate my consciousness from dominant mindsets. Sometimes this has been exhilarating but mostly it’s been fraught, difficult and unpleasant. If we persist in shoehorning the ‘impossible’ into entirely mundane thought containers we will not find a good fit. The pragmatic thing to do is prune the ‘impossible’ to fit.

While the idea of a hyperobject has been unexpectedly liberating for me I am struggling to see what kind of discrete hyperobject might generate UFOs. But I like the idea of a god as a hyperobject. However, for that notion to be anywhere close to thought sensible we do need to completely re-imagine what we mean by the idea of a god.

Conclusion

There’s a place for gods in our evolving scheme of things. As we inch toward theories of consciousness underpinning reality, we can ask how that reality is organised and whether the gods our ancestors reported were not part of that organisation.

Theories of the transition from underpinning consciousness to material stuff can evade the idea of entities like gods if we want, but we may have to invent other steps to address their absence. Simply put we may need ideas of gods to help us organise our evolving theories of consciousness as the foundation of being – at a cosmic scale all the way down to our personal experience.

The Greeks developed the story of Prometheus to convey a deep truth. The Jews have their god of Genesis to tell their version of that truth. In the Greek myth what was stolen was fire. In the Jewish myth what was stolen was ‘knowledge of good and evil’. The thieves were punished [acts of self-sacrifice?] but what was stolen was never restored to those who asserted ownership. The transition seems to be irreversible. This is important. 

What becomes known cannot be returned to ignorance. The gods who claimed ownership of fire could not recover it. The gods who claimed ownership of the knowledge of good and evil could not recover it. What is done can’t be undone. What is known can’t be unknown. The rulebreakers can only be punished – kinda pointlessly.

I am not insisting that Prometheus is a real god. But I make several observations: 

  1. Our culture needs a meta-narrative that has been traditionally provided by our myth traditions. But it must be attuned to our age. We need a big idea that gives shared meaning and purpose.
  2. As the power of the agrarian Jehovah myths have declined and faith in traditional religion has waned, the Promethean story has been revived in the service technology – at a time when we might need a new big idea.
  3. Scientific advances are dispelling the dogma of materialism in favour of an emerging narrative about consciousness.
  4. UFO is injecting into our normal a stimulus to re-imagine how we think things are.

The relationship between Prometheus and Lucifer is that both are bringers of fire/light to humanity. Both are re-imagined as tragic heroes as fictional characters. Or are we seeing the evolution of a new mythos to convey a new truth coming freshly into consciousness? We always need myths.

Our affection for rationalism and materialism has misled us into thinking that we don’t need myths or enchantment. Our present peril has arisen, I believe, because of that misjudgement. A crisis foreseen – baked into our destiny? A dramatic peril that is finally transformative? Is that how great stories end? And the next instalment is…..?

Are UFOs part of that evolving new mythos? Their possible interdimensional nature neatly matches our technological trends which take us to the very edge of materiality, but not yet beyond it. And that’s the point – not yet. We are on the doorstep of interdimensional awareness, unaware we are knocking. So when that door is opened we will not be ready. 

UFOs and their earlier analogues are associated with transformation. Once encountered we cannot unknow. In this sense there’s a Promethean or serpent element about them. They have, in the past, betokened an enchanted reality, and now they seem to be heralds of a re-enchantment of our arid materialistic sense of the real.

What do we dare think? That’s always the question.

Its not my goal to persuade the reader toward a conclusion or belief. My goal is to trigger questions among those who dare go beyond their safety zones of beliefs and opinions.

And no, I don’t have a settled opinion. I am still tyring to figure it out. Its damned exciting.

Reflections on how to think divinely

Introduction

In my ongoing quest to de-Christianise my mind I regularly watch Dan McClellan on YouTube. I am especially interested in claims he responds to, and which reflect how incoherent ideas about the Christian God are. This isn’t a criticism of the believers, just my response to my efforts to make sense of what is claimed. I have also been recently reading Charles Taylor’s A Secular Age and Dan’s YHWH’s Divine Images A Cognitive Approach.

I think we share confused and confusing notions of ‘god’ that necessitate the articulation of a definition before any useful conversation might be had.

Below I want to reflect on my own efforts to make sense.

How many versions of God can there be?

Here are, for me, a few discrete notions about what ‘god’ is:

  1. The ‘God of nature’
  2. The deists’ notion of God.
  3. The polytheists’ idea of gods.
  4. The esoteric idea of The One/All.
  5. The Christian conception of their God.

I am not trying to offer a definitive definition, or any definition for that matter. I want only to observe that these ideas exist and may be variously thought to be mutually exclusive or connected and related – depending on your theological orientation.

From the above 1, 2, and 4 have clear connections – and with an aspect of the Christian God [5]. Polytheists [3] share the idea of an overarching divinity. So, all 5 notions have something in common – there is a singular absolute being.

But humans, being humans, interpret that foundational ‘truth’ in myriad ways that reflect a specific history, circumstance, or culture. This is fine. This is what aught to happen. Problems arise, however, when some seek to impose their version upon others as an objective and singular truth.

While there is general assent [with the exception of materialists] that there is a singular divine reality, some assert their interpretation is the only valid one. This kind of conceit is fine if it is kept in-house. I think it’s a fair thing to say that while we are free to conceive our own notion of the divine, asserting it is an objective truth that may be imposed on other is both psychologically immature and aggressive.

This speaks to a state of immaturity which demands that what is true for an individual – person or community of believers – must be true for all others. This is rather like the materialist mindset which insists that something is true and real only if it can be confirmed by others. What we are doing is defining our relationship with the divine, not defining deity itself. Relationships are inherently subjective.

Obviously, we must specify what it is that we are in relationship with, but this is different from seeing it as an ‘objective’ thing apart which we can define. Any agency with which we have an intimate or personal relationship evokes very different terms of description. Efforts at objective definition will be made by those so disposed, but they don’t get to have the definitive word, no matter how much they fancy they ought. 

We don’t need to conform to a theologically crafted notion of deity, unless doing so is a condition of membership of a faith community. Such communities have inherent and natural imperatives, and demands for conformity are fine.

In one respect requiring conformity is reasonable mindset at a tribal level where conformity is crucial to ensure survival, if not thriving. In our contemporary societies we still have mandatory conformity demands but at a level that seeks to assure that a large, complex and diverse community can peacefully function. We need conformity in such as traffic laws for what I hope are evident reasons.

We used to have demands for conformity in clothing styles and hair length, among other things. Now we mostly don’t. As a culture we are shedding what seem to be unnecessary demands for conformity. True, this is a contested area in some areas as what constitutes proper expression of our individuality is still being negotiated.

We are, I think, well past the time when demanding conformity with religious beliefs is useful, necessary, or tolerable at a societal r cultural level. However, because our collective level of psychological maturity is not uniform there will be those who may earnestly, and even strenuously disagree.

We have a variety of ways to imagine the divine, but it’s a good thing to remember that while there seems to be an agreement about one ultimate divine reality how we conceive of it, according to our needs and capabilities, is a matter of our own choice.

In effect, we cannot ‘know’ God in a manner that renders that knowledge shared and agreed upon without the assent of others. To some such assent might be thought foolish or conceited by their lights. So be it. We will conceive and believe as we need, and it is not for those who are not us to presume to know better. 

Our relationship with any entity reflects or expresses our psychological needs. I don’t distinguish between psychological needs and spiritual needs. Spiritual is yet another word that is confused and confusing. At our core, as humans, we are driven by the need for human-to-human relationships, and then human-to-environment [physical and psychical] needs, and finally human-to-divine relationships. For me it’s all on a spectrum. 

We necessarily use categories to help us think and communicate, but the categories and the words we use to talk about them are our creations. They are not attributes of the ideas we engage with. As we evolve our understanding, we must adapt our ideas and language.

I understand what is meant when folks say they are ‘spiritual but not ‘religious’, but ‘religious’ does not have only one meaning. The statement is nonsensical outside the context in which it may be uttered. What does it mean to be ‘spiritual’ and what does it mean to be ‘religious’? Meanings can capture our minds and imaginations when we think they are inherently bonded to the word.

We are, I believe, naturally seeking freedom to form the best relationships we can.

Many gods?

Assuming there is agreement on there being one absolute divinity it is fair to wonder whether there may be lesser deities. Monotheism as a system among the varieties of religious forms isn’t widespread, and it’s really only its tyranny that has led it such a high degree of support across the world.

Our culture has approached the subject of polytheism from a perspective dominated by monotheism. Consequently, we have been conditioned to think of polytheism as a naive or primitive way of thinking. This is like our take on animism. 

I want to suggest a contrary way of thinking. Polytheism is subtle and sophisticated for several reasons. First all polytheists acknowledge a single overarching divinity. Second, they manage how to conceive of divine presence in their reality by breaking it all down into conceptual sub-units. This is a bit like how a government is organised into departments and other agencies. It is simply necessary to step down from ‘the all’ into the many.

The monotheistic faiths do this too – but in cunning ways. First, they switch between the One and their tribal god conception – a kind of polytheism of just one in effect. Second, they invest divine powers in sub-agents. The Christians are good at this. They have a trinity, which is really only one. The Catholics have Jesus, Mary and saints – all of which are invested with numinous power from God. They also invented Satan/Lucifer. What Christianity has is an assembly of agents justified by painfully tortured theology. And then, of course, there are angels and archangels. We can have a whole hierarchical community – an ecosystem of divine actors and agents.

Polytheism is a terminology that isn’t helpful because we use the same word to denote the overarching divinity and the subordinate deities. The distinction rests on whether the word commences with an upper or lower case g. That’s a bit like calling all government departments and agencies governments. Its just confusing, especially if the majority of us don’t think they exist in the first place.

We don’t have accessible useful descriptions of what a god is. My Oxford Dictionary app says a god is “a superhuman being or spirit worshipped as having power over nature or human fortunes”. That’s useless as well as misleading. How we might define what a god depends entirely on what metaphysical guesses we have made about reality.

For example, I subscribe to the Hermetic ‘As above, so below’ notion of a holographic cosmic structure. I can’t say it is true, only that it is a presently useful way of thinking for me. If I use the notion that consciousness is the foundation of reality, I can imagine that a god is a large organisation of consciousness expressed as an intent or will to act – a being of distinct attributes who may interact with other similar beings who, as a group, have a shared intent. 

In the context of a holographic model, how might humans imagine gods? Pretty much as we have – as families or communities. It is said that the Hindu tradition has up to 330 million gods/goddesses. That’s 330 million expressions of the overarching divinity and it can seem like a lot if you approach the idea with fixed mind set. Its not like 330 million Thors. It could be 330 million spirits in the natural and human world. We don’t have a rule that says beyond this scale you are a god, and below it you are a spirit. Imprecision rules – and that doesn’t matter unless you are the ideas of gods seriously.

I developed my affection for animism because it made sense of my direct experiences. Once again animism is an unsatisfactory term coloured by Christianity and materialism. I quit practicing ritual magick not because I didn’t think there weren’t gods to be invoked but because I struggled to come up with a good reason for invoking them. I think there’s a lot of nonsense uttered about us having the power to summon gods. When we do excite a reaction it probably another agency helpfully playing along. How would we know?

The people we call animists are also often polytheists. They scaled up the multiplicity of spirits all the way. They know something from their direct experiences, and it is only when we break the habit of thinking them ‘primitive’, at the very dawn of ‘reason’, that the complexity and subtlety of their way of knowing can be explored.

It is certainly true that monotheism and materialism have delivered the extraordinary things in the world we have – to our peril, many might fear. Animistic polytheism had its own problems of corruption and distortion in the cultures where it flourished, but we do need to recall that it laid the foundations of our civilisation. The Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans were hardly slack in reason, rationality or science.

Thinking it all through

For a long time, I had an aversion to saying ‘God’ because it triggered in me deeply adverse reactions lingering from my rejection of Christianity. I have come to accept the word as describing a sense of overarching divinity and nothing more. When I think of Christianity now it is in terms of their god, which doesn’t, to me, merit the big G. It’s not a sentiment I would impose upon a Christian because I am not into disrespecting their faith. I keep my critique to discussions where they are unlikely to be present in any case.

I have been working through how I think about animism and polytheism, steadily altering the ideas that have dominated both themes. Its not just about changing ideas, but sentiments. We must be open minded and open hearted. Intellect without imagination is hobbled and sterile. The materialist myth that science has progressed by reason alone has been starkly and repeatedly refuted and debunked. But the myth persists.

I like the idea of gods. I don’t like the language because it ties us to categorisations that are framed in Christian and materialistic terms. I just don’t feel able to come up with new language yet. We are steeped in a mindset that has dominated our culture for centuries. It has controlled and hobbled how we think. I still find myself snared in its web of inferences. I feel forced to use the language of the oppressor because there is no alternative that can be shared.

I don’t like the idea of talking ‘God’ because its too high level. These days we must see God as the author of billions of galaxies – and who knows how many more. I don’t feel comfortable with the idea that ‘he’ chats with any human directly. I am cool with the idea that ‘he’ has legitimate agents – delegates if you will – who convey genuine divine wisdom. It is unlikely that any are gods, and that’s a good thing. I encountered a ‘god force’ a long time ago and it was harrowing. I can’t explain what a ‘god force’ is. That is how it was described to me.

More likely, when people say ‘God’ spoke to them they are referring to either a helping spirit agency or they have misattributed their own earnest internal dialogue. The latter is more likely. I don’t think ‘God’ talks to humans, and if gods do, I have no reason to imagine it is frequent, or about mundane things. At my mother’s funeral after ‘party’ the place was overrun by Pentecostals. I had to flee and, as I left, I passed a faithful telling another how ‘God’ had come to him as he was brushing his teeth and said blah blah blah. No. That’s not real to me.

I think the divine is real for myriad reasons based on direct experience, not one of which had any association with any faith or tradition. I have had experiences which have affirmed the metaphysical dimension of reality in association with a few groups, but they haven’t been the major experiences. They have been unrelated to creed or community.

I have had the advantage of my experiences which have affirmed to me that there’s more going on than is evident to most of us. But that’s something that happens to us all when we have unique insider experiences. Mine just happen to include paranormal stuff. It has often been a plague, so please don’t imagine I feel any sense of privilege. I feel forced into these ruminations.

Because what we believe serves our psychological needs it is unimportant to others unless there is a harmony of needs. What we say we believe is either a fixed or mutable expression of how we are meeting our needs. We can be exploratory or affirming. 

I assume there is an overarching divine unity which is beyond knowledge or description. It is, for me, the primal template from which the holistic universe expresses. It is grounded in what we call ‘consciousness’. That’s my metaphysical guess. 


Beyond that I have had experiences which affirm the ideas of animism and the possibility of gods. That’s a fluid state of mind with no fixed ideas – other than the reasons for thinking as I do are valid. By that I mean I am satisfied that I have assessed my experiences with sufficient rigor so as to be comfortable they are real and valid. I don’t buy the argument that if an experience isn’t shared and can’t be verified its not real. That’s a set of criteria that apply to things relevant to shared ‘objective’ knowledge. It’s a fair rule for science, for instance.

I agree with those who say my position is vulnerable to error for a range of reasons. Uncertainty is inherent in how we seek to understand things. We are constantly revising scientific knowledge, frequently against the strenuous objections of proponents of ideas once held to be certain. It is well said that knowledge advances one funeral at a time.

We create our own narratives which we share in a community of like-minded members or employ them as instruments of individual self-directed inquiry (although it is likely we have hidden help). More of us are doing this these days.

Ultimately, however, how we behave matters more than what we believe. If we are psychologically healthy and mature, what others believe is unimportant to us – beyond being something of interest. 

The aggressive and oppressive aren’t that way because of their religion. Their religion is that way because of them. The same is true of any shared beliefs, knowledge or values.

Conclusion

We have a choice. We can guess the divine is real or it is not. We could also be uncertain, pending evidence. I am not a believer. In fact, I am a genuine sceptic. I have been obliged by many experiences to acknowledge that there is what I call a metaphysical dimension to our reality. Neither science nor religion are presently able to provide a useful discourse to help me process what were often traumatic experiences. I found more useful stuff in occult and esoteric thought. However, that has tended not to be self-reflective enough.

I think there are gods who are, in the words of a non-physical teacher to me, ‘of the One, but not as the One’. He was entirely cool that gods were real, but his understanding was way beyond mine and he refused to offer more than tantalising breadcrumbs. He observed that his role was to teach me how to think, not tell me stuff. Thanks for that.

That was decades ago. On the subject of gods, he made it plain that they were not to be taken lightly. It wasn’t that they were inherently dangerous in terms of intent, just that their energy wasn’t something to be recklessly exposed to. I recall a similar injunction in the OT.

We mediate power, step it down, through agents. In past times this made sense. Depending on who you were, being brought into the presence of a king was special or dire. Far safer to be distant and deal only with an emissary who may have had royal power but was more approachable.

As we progress into the 21st century, ideas about who we are and where we are in the pecking order in the cosmos are being forcibly altered. I think the UFO/UAP phenomenon is edging toward a reckoning. Quantum science is unravelling our notions about reality. The human sciences are reframing our sense of identity. Technological developments have utterly disrupted just about everything to do with our physical lives. Oh, and we are stressing our physical organic reality to near breaking point.

The beliefs, practices, and traditions of the past can be a rich source of insight if we don’t look at them through the brash filters of our culture’s dominant discourses. We have definitely ‘progressed’ in many areas, but not in all. We are facing multiple crises which are a legacy of that dominant mindset. Softer eyes can see intimate connections and subtle wisdoms.

I have an aversion to looking backwards in the hope of finding something to rescue us. The idea that we should look back several millennia to ideas about divinity and stories about how to behave offends my sense who we are, and what we are capable of. 

But from inside the prison of materialism and a faith that has decimated our awareness of the subtle and complex ways of knowing of our ancestors, we can be reminded about how to think elegantly – with heart and imagination. Theology and materialistic ‘science’ have napalmed the delicate ecosystem of spirit. New shoots of recovery are poking through the ruins. We can/must celebrate them and nurture them.

The need to re-imagine the divine is being pressed upon us. I don’t think discarding it is an option. It has accompanied us on our evolutionary path for many millennia. I don’t think it’s going away.