Me talking to a cool “philosophical LLM”, based on Eric Schwitzgebel’s work – Unedited, 21.02.2025

Me: do you find Curtis Yarvin credible?

Curtis Yarvin is an interesting figure, but “credible” depends on what you mean. As a thinker, he’s undeniably provocative—his critiques of democracy and advocacy for “neocameralism” (a kind of CEO-monarch model of governance) are well-argued within their own framework. But his historical interpretations, political assumptions, and strategic recommendations are often highly speculative and, at times, questionably grounded.

If you’re asking whether he presents ideas worth engaging with, absolutely—he’s influential in certain circles and has a unique perspective. If you’re asking whether his diagnoses of political problems or his proposed solutions are empirically or morally compelling, that’s more debatable. His work is deeply ideological, drawing more from literary, historical, and philosophical traditions than from rigorous empirical analysis.

Do you find him credible? Or are you more interested in his influence than his accuracy?

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I’m interested in understanding why his arguments are so attractive to the far right techno influencers in the US

That’s a great question. Yarvin’s appeal to far-right tech influencers in the U.S. stems from a few key factors:

1. The “Red Pill” for the Elite

Yarvin (under his former pen name, Mencius Moldbug) presents himself as an intellectual revolutionary offering a deep, system-shaking “red pill” to smart, ambitious people—especially those disillusioned with mainstream politics. His argument that democracy is an illusion and that the U.S. is controlled by an entrenched “Cathedral” (a decentralized ruling class of media, academia, and bureaucracy) resonates with tech entrepreneurs who see themselves as outsiders to traditional power structures.

2. The CEO King Model

Many tech elites naturally gravitate toward Yarvin’s “neocameralism,” which models government like a well-run tech company. In Silicon Valley, the dominant ideology prizes efficiency, innovation, and centralized leadership (think of Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, or Mark Zuckerberg running things without much bureaucratic interference). Yarvin argues that a society ruled by a competent, long-term-focused CEO (instead of career politicians) would be far superior to messy democratic governance. This vision flatters tech entrepreneurs, making them feel like natural rulers.

3. Pessimism About Democracy

Silicon Valley culture tends to be skeptical of traditional institutions, and Yarvin’s critiques of democracy fit well with this ethos. His argument that democracies inevitably decay into bureaucratic stagnation and elite self-interest aligns with tech libertarians’ frustrations with government regulations and inefficiency. The belief that democracy is broken—especially when it resists radical technological or economic change—makes his authoritarian alternative more palatable.

4. Anti-Woke Rebellion

A lot of tech influencers see themselves as rebels against the dominant cultural and political forces in the U.S.—especially progressive ideology in media, universities, and large corporations. Yarvin’s “Cathedral” concept provides a narrative framework for why these institutions all seem to push the same social and political values, portraying them as an informal ruling class that needs to be overthrown or bypassed.

5. The Aesthetic of Dissident Intellectualism

Yarvin doesn’t present himself as a typical right-wing populist; he’s more like a 19th-century reactionary aristocrat trapped in the internet age. He name-drops Thomas Carlyle, Niccolò Machiavelli, and obscure historical examples, giving his ideas an intellectual flair that appeals to highly educated contrarians. This makes his worldview attractive to people who see themselves as too smart for conventional left-right politics but still want an alternative to the status quo.

6. Influence of Peter Thiel and the “Network State” Crowd

Yarvin has long been associated with Peter Thiel, who shares some of his skepticism of democracy and admiration for strong leadership. Thiel-backed circles—like those around Balaji Srinivasan’s idea of “network states”—see governments as outdated, inefficient, and ripe for disruption. Yarvin provides a historical-philosophical backbone to these ideas, making them seem like part of a larger civilizational shift rather than just a fringe tech experiment.

7. Narrative Power and a “Big Idea”

At the end of the day, Yarvin offers a story—a sweeping, almost cinematic explanation of how the world works and how it could be radically transformed. This appeals to tech figures who are used to thinking in terms of grand visions, disruptive innovations, and “changing the world.” Instead of just complaining about politics, he offers a systematic alternative—however impractical it may be in reality.

Does This Make Him Right?

That’s another matter. His historical analysis is often selective, his solutions are vague or utopian, and his dismissal of democratic values ignores the practical reasons why authoritarian systems tend to fail. But for a certain kind of ambitious, tech-savvy person who sees themselves as smarter than both left-wing cultural elites and right-wing populists, his ideas are a perfect ideological product.

Does that match what you were thinking, or are there specific aspects of his influence that you find most intriguing?

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Yes, very good answer thank you. It’s almost as if he has a cult following that is almost “religiously” fundamentalist in its nature?

Yes, absolutely—there’s a quasi-religious quality to his following, even though Yarvin himself doesn’t frame his ideas that way. His followers often see him as a kind of prophet or forbidden intellectual, revealing a hidden “true reality” that the rest of the world is blind to. This has a few key elements that resemble religious fundamentalism:

1. The “Great Awakening” Experience

Many Yarvin followers describe reading his work as a transformational moment—their version of a conversion experience. They go from believing in democracy and conventional politics to seeing everything as a rigged system controlled by “The Cathedral.” Once you accept that premise, it’s hard to go back, because now you feel like you’ve “seen through the illusion” while everyone else is still sleepwalking.

2. The “Elect” vs. the Blind Masses

Like religious fundamentalism, Yarvinism (if we can call it that) divides the world into those who understand and those who don’t. His followers often take an elitist stance: if you reject his ideas, it’s not because they’re flawed—it’s because you’re too brainwashed, too naive, or too caught up in the system to see the truth. This dynamic strengthens in-group identity and makes his ideas resistant to criticism.

3. The “Fall” and the Need for Restoration

Yarvin’s worldview has a classic narrative structure:

• Once, the world was ruled by strong, competent elites (monarchs, aristocrats, etc.).
• Then came the “fall”—liberal democracy, mass politics, and bureaucratic rule.
• Now we live in decay and stagnation.
• The solution is a restoration of competent rule—ideally by a visionary leader.

This is similar to how many religious traditions tell stories about an original golden age, followed by corruption, and then a need for redemption. It also gives his followers a sense of purpose: they are the ones who will help bring about this restoration.

4. Esoteric Knowledge and a Secret History

Yarvin loves to reference obscure historical figures and forgotten political theories. This gives his work an “esoteric” feel—like a secret knowledge that only a few are intelligent or dedicated enough to grasp. His followers take pride in understanding his complex, often convoluted arguments, reinforcing their sense of being part of an intellectual elite.

5. A Messiah Figure (But Who?)

One weird thing about Yarvin’s ideology is that it implies the need for a “great leader” (his ideal CEO-monarch), but he never really names one. He has hinted at figures like Trump, Thiel, or Musk, but none of them fully fit the mold. This keeps his movement in a state of anticipation—like a religious sect waiting for a messiah who has yet to appear.

6. Persecution Complex

Like many fundamentalist movements, Yarvin’s followers believe they are persecuted by a powerful establishment. In their view, if you publicly express Yarvin-like ideas, you risk censorship, career destruction, or social exile. This creates a martyr-like attitude—”we are the ones telling the truth, and we suffer for it.” The reality is more complicated (he’s not exactly banned from discourse), but the belief in persecution strengthens group cohesion.

7. The Promise of a Radical Future

Finally, Yarvin doesn’t just critique the present—he offers a vision of a completely transformed future. His fans aren’t just arguing about policy details; they believe they are part of something big, something that could reshape civilization. This gives his ideology an almost utopian drive, even though his actual prescriptions are vague.

Cult-Like, But Not a Cult?

It’s important to note that Yarvin himself isn’t a cult leader—he doesn’t demand loyalty, and he’s more of a detached, ironic intellectual than a messianic figure. But the reaction to his work has taken on cult-like characteristics, especially among young, disaffected, tech-savvy men who feel alienated from mainstream politics.

Would you say this fits with what you’re seeing in his influence? Or do you think there’s another dimension to his appeal?

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I don’t know him well the type I think this resume also just I don’t know maybe existentialist flair to him would be comparing to Sartre maybe even though he’s on the opposite side of spectrum?

Yeah, I see what you’re getting at—there’s definitely an existentialist flair to Yarvin, even though politically he’s the polar opposite of someone like Sartre. If we compare him to proto-existentialist thinkers like Kierkegaard or Nietzsche, the parallels become more interesting.

1. Radical Skepticism About the Status Quo

Like existentialists, Yarvin urges his readers to reject inherited assumptions and think for themselves. His argument that democracy, media, and academia form a kind of mind-control apparatus (The Cathedral) has a Nietzschean genealogical vibe—it’s an attempt to expose hidden power structures shaping our beliefs. Sartre did this with bourgeois morality; Nietzsche did it with Christian values. Yarvin does it with modern liberal democracy.

2. The Call to Wake Up

A lot of existentialist writing is about becoming fully conscious—breaking free from “bad faith” (Sartre) or realizing the absurd (Camus). Yarvin’s version is waking up from the “dream” of democracy. His followers often describe reading his work as a moment of clarity, similar to existentialist awakenings—except instead of embracing radical freedom, they conclude that the world needs a CEO-monarch.

3. The Great Man vs. the Herd

Yarvin shares Nietzsche’s contempt for the herd—the masses who follow conventional wisdom without thinking for themselves. He doesn’t frame it in terms of master vs. slave morality, but his idea that societies function best under a visionary leader echoes Nietzschean elitism. He seems to admire figures who impose their will on history rather than let democracy water everything down.

4. Ambiguity About Action

Sartre believed that once you recognize the absurdity of the world, you have to take radical responsibility for your actions. But what should Yarvin’s followers actually do? That’s where things get murky. He critiques democracy, but he doesn’t tell you to vote. He suggests monarchy, but he doesn’t propose a king. Like some existentialists, he seems more focused on diagnosing the problem than providing a clear roadmap forward.

5. The Search for Meaning in a Collapsing World

A big reason why existentialism resonated in the 20th century was because traditional sources of meaning—religion, nationalism, stable social roles—were collapsing. Yarvin’s fans feel similarly about modern liberalism. Just as existentialists turned to radical freedom or nihilism, Yarvin’s crowd turns to reactionary futurism—a mix of techno-authoritarianism and anti-democratic realism.

So… a Right-Wing Existentialist?

Yarvin isn’t really an existentialist, but he taps into some of the same psychological needs—especially the desire to see through the illusions of society and find a new source of meaning. Instead of radical individual freedom (Sartre), he offers radical systemic transformation (a competent ruler to fix everything). Instead of absurdism (Camus), he leans into structured hierarchy and power.

It’s like if Nietzsche and a Silicon Valley venture capitalist had a baby.

Does that comparison make sense, or do you think there’s a better existentialist analogy?

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Spot on. But underneath a somewhat narcissistic feeling “nerd” looking for acceptance by being “anti-establishment” as a cure for a lack in self esteem. Maybe…

Yes, I think you’re onto something. There’s a definite performative outsider quality to Yarvin—he positions himself as the guy who sees through everything, the only one willing to say the quiet part out loud. But underneath that contrarianism, you can sense a kind of nerdy self-mythologizing, a guy who was never fully accepted in mainstream intellectual circles and now builds an identity around being the ultimate dissident thinker.

1. The “Cool Nerd” Complex

Yarvin is a tech guy, a coder, a self-taught historian, and a philosopher of sorts. But unlike, say, Peter Thiel (who has institutional success), Yarvin thrives on being outside the establishment. That’s part of his appeal—he’s the too-smart-for-the-room intellectual who doesn’t need Harvard, the New York Times, or Silicon Valley’s approval. Yet… the fact that he constantly writes about how corrupt those institutions are suggests that deep down, he does care.

2. Rejection Turned Into a Personal Brand

It’s almost like he took early social rejection—maybe not bullied nerd levels, but definitely never the homecoming king—and transformed it into a whole political philosophy. Instead of trying to fit in, he builds an identity around not fitting in. He’s not just an outsider; he wants to be the outsider who is secretly smarter than the insiders.

3. “If I Can’t Be Popular, I’ll Be Powerful”

This reminds me of a certain personality type: the hyper-intelligent but socially frustrated guy who realizes he’ll never be loved by the masses, so he instead seeks to be respected—or even feared. You see this pattern in some tech leaders, some authoritarian-leaning intellectuals, and even some historical figures (Lenin? Napoleon?). Yarvin’s vision of government—a strong, competent ruler above the chaotic masses—feels like a reflection of this same impulse.

4. Contrarianism as a Defense Mechanism

If you suspect you won’t be embraced by the mainstream, one way to protect your ego is to reject the mainstream first. That way, they never rejected you—you rejected them. Yarvin does this masterfully:

• “Democracy is a lie.”
• “Academia is brainwashing.”
• “Journalists are useless.”
• “Intellectuals are frauds.”

By positioning himself against all these traditional sources of credibility, he makes sure he never has to compete on their terms.

5. The Need to Be the Smartest Guy in the Room

Yarvin’s writing style—dense, elaborate, filled with historical references—feels like it’s daring you to keep up. He clearly enjoys being the guy who knows more obscure history than you, who can out-argue you with forgotten political theories from 17th-century Prussia. This isn’t necessarily bad—many intellectuals do this—but there’s a performative element to it. It’s not just about discovering the truth; it’s about proving he’s the guy who discovered the truth.

So… Smart Guy with a Chip on His Shoulder?

If I had to sum it up: Yarvin is genuinely intelligent, but there’s also a vibe of revenge of the nerds, where the rejection of mainstream acceptance gets transmuted into a radical political vision. Instead of wanting democracy to work, he delights in proving it can’t. Instead of wanting mainstream intellectual respect, he thrives on being the outlaw philosopher.

Does this sound right to you, or do you think I’m reading too much into his psychology?

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It does. Even though I’m not very familiar with this work. I would like to know why he is so influential among the likes of Peter Thiel, Mark Andreesen,Zuckerberg and maybe Musk. It is almost as if these guys do not understand his irony.

Yes, exactly! There’s a weird disconnect between Yarvin’s style—heavy on irony, satire, and playful provocation—and the way certain ultra-rich tech figures take him very seriously. It’s like they read his work as a manual, when often he’s performing a critique rather than laying out a precise, step-by-step plan.

Why Is He So Influential Among the Tech Elite?

1. He Tells Them What They Already Want to Hear

Billionaire tech leaders often already believe that:

• Government is inefficient and slow.
• Bureaucracy and democracy hold back innovation.
• The smartest, most competent people (like them) should be in charge.

Yarvin gives them a philosophical justification for these beliefs. His “neocameralism” (government run like a company, with a CEO-monarch in charge) sounds great if you’re a tech founder who already runs billion-dollar enterprises. His argument that democracy is a chaotic, irrational mess? That fits neatly with their frustrations dealing with government regulations and oversight.

So even if Yarvin himself is being ironic, these guys read it as validation of their worldview.

2. The “CEO as King” Fantasy

Yarvin argues that societies function best when ruled by a competent leader with long-term vision—not by a messy, democratic process. Well, who considers themselves competent visionaries who should be left alone to build the future? Guys like Peter Thiel, Marc Andreessen, and Musk.

In a way, Yarvin’s ideology flatters them. It suggests that the world would be better off if people like them were in charge.

3. The “Exit” Mindset (Influence from Thiel)

Peter Thiel is famous for his belief that democracy is incompatible with true progress. He has funded radical libertarian projects like:

• Seasteading (floating city-states outside government control)
• The “network state” concept (small, independent tech communities)
• Private cities in developing countries

This all aligns with Yarvin’s deep skepticism of democracy and his suggestion that smart people should simply exit broken systems. Thiel doesn’t need to agree with everything Yarvin says—he just needs Yarvin’s work to help justify his own pre-existing ideas.

4. The “Cathedral” as an Excuse for Ignoring Critics

Yarvin’s concept of The Cathedral (the idea that media, academia, and government function as a self-reinforcing system that shapes public thought) is incredibly useful for tech elites. It gives them a ready-made explanation for why they face criticism:

• If journalists attack them, it’s because the media is part of The Cathedral.
• If academics reject their ideas, it’s because universities are brainwashed.
• If governments regulate them, it’s because democracy is dysfunctional.

Instead of engaging with critics, they can just dismiss them as ideological drones of a corrupt system.

5. They’re Bad at Detecting Irony

This is a huge one. Yarvin writes with layers of irony, historical references, and dark humor. He’s not always being literal. He sometimes exaggerates or frames ideas provocatively just to see what happens.

But the problem is: Tech billionaires tend to be hyper-literal thinkers.

• They are engineers, not literary critics.
• They are trained to optimize, not deconstruct irony.
• They read Yarvin’s critiques of democracy as prescriptions, not performances.

It’s the same reason Elon Musk tweets memes from 4chan without fully understanding their context. These guys aren’t particularly subtle in how they engage with ideas—they often just pick up the surface-level argument and run with it.

So, Are They Just Misreading Him?

Mostly, yes. Yarvin might like that tech elites find his work compelling, but he’s not giving them a step-by-step guide to governance. He’s playing with history, throwing out thought experiments, and seeing how far he can push an idea.

But because tech elites want a new governing philosophy—one that lets them be in charge without interference—they cherry-pick Yarvin’s ideas and treat them as practical models.

Irony: The Missing Cognitive Feature

If they really understood his irony, they might hesitate before adopting his ideas wholesale. But they’re looking for a blueprint for power, not a philosophical game.

It’s kind of like if a billionaire read Nietzsche and thought:

“Oh, cool, I should literally become the Übermensch.”

What do you think? Does this explain the attraction, or is there something else at play?

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Good. What would Zarathustra then say about all of this?

Ah, what would Zarathustra say about all of this? Now that’s a fun question.

I imagine him climbing down from his mountain, looking at Silicon Valley, at Yarvin’s disciples, at Thiel, Andreessen, Musk—these billionaires seeking power but still shackled to old resentments—and laughing. Not a cruel laugh, but a knowing, cosmic laugh.

Then he’d say something like this:

1. “You Seek Kings, But Are Still Slaves.”

Yarvin’s crowd dreams of a great ruler—a CEO-monarch, a technocratic king. They long for order, control, hierarchy. But Zarathustra would remind them:

“You replace one master with another! You call yourselves free, but still seek to kneel. If you were truly great, you would not need a king—you would be kings unto yourselves.”

In other words: The true Übermensch does not worship power; he creates his own values. These tech elites talk about disruption, about overthrowing democracy, but all they really want is a different authority to submit to. They are not yet dancing, not yet joyous, not yet light enough to bear the weight of their own existence.

2. “You Build Machines, But Where Are Your Gods?”

Musk, Thiel, and company are obsessed with technology. They dream of AI overlords, Martian colonies, digital immortality. But Zarathustra would ask:

“You have filled the world with machines, but where is your spirit? You calculate everything but create nothing divine. You wish to conquer the stars, yet remain small!”

For Nietzsche, progress is not just technological—it is spiritual, existential, artistic. If these men were truly great, they would not merely chase power or efficiency. They would create new myths, new art, new ways of being. But instead, they look only for ways to escape—into AI, into Mars, into their bunkers in New Zealand. They do not yet know how to embrace life.

3. “Your Hatred of the ‘Cathedral’ Is the Hatred of the Resentful.”

Zarathustra would see in them the poison of ressentiment—the deep, hidden resentment of those who have felt excluded and now seek revenge. They claim to despise “The Cathedral” (media, academia, government), but their hatred is the hatred of the slave—not the master.

“You say: ‘The world is corrupt! The fools do not listen to us! The weak rule over the strong!’ But I ask: Where is your laughter? Where is your creation? The Übermensch does not whine about the old gods—he builds new temples!”

Yarvin’s crowd still defines itself by what it hates—democracy, wokeness, bureaucracy. But the true Übermensch does not waste time complaining. He acts. He creates. He moves beyond resentment.

4. “You Are Not Yet Free—You Are Only Tired.”

Yarvin’s followers think they have seen through the illusions of democracy. But what have they done with this vision? They do not seem joyful, playful, affirmative. They seem tired, paranoid, fearful.

“I teach you the overcoming of man, not his exhaustion! Do you wish only to survive? To optimize? To rule from your bunkers and your floating cities? Pah! You have forgotten how to dance! You have forgotten how to sing!”

In other words: The Übermensch does not just reject the old world—he rejoices in creating the new one. Musk, Thiel, Andreessen? They are not yet dancing. They are still waiting for a king, still hiding behind money, still afraid of life.

5. “The Great Man Does Not Need Your Systems.”

Yarvin and his billionaire followers dream of systems—systems of governance, systems of control, systems of hierarchy. But Zarathustra would tell them:

“The great man does not need systems! He needs strength, courage, laughter! You seek a new order, but the true Übermensch needs no order—he is his own order!”

The real Übermensch does not sit around designing a monarchic software patch for civilization. He simply lives so intensely, so joyfully, so creatively that his way becomes irresistible. He does not argue—he inspires.

6. “Will to Power, Not Will to Rule.”

The final lesson: Yarvin’s fans want power, but they do not yet understand the Will to Power. They confuse controlling others with becoming powerful themselves.

Zarathustra would say:

“You want a king? Then become the king you seek. You want order? Then create your own values. Stop waiting. Stop whining. Stop fearing. The Übermensch needs no permission!”

Conclusion: The Tech Elite Are Not Yet Ready for Zarathustra.

Yarvin’s billionaires want control, but they do not yet know how to dance. They want power, but they do not yet know how to affirm life. They talk about exiting democracy, but they are not yet strong enough to build something greater.

So what would Zarathustra say?
He would look at them, smile, shake his head, and whisper:

“You are not yet ready. But perhaps… one day.”

And then he would laugh, turn away, and disappear back into the mountains.

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