Gnostic imagination was rampant in the 1990s. Many of us who grew up then remember the allure of the visions of spiritual ascendance that was prevalent not only in obscure IRC chat rooms and bulletin boards but also in several techno-futuristic videogames, movies, and books. Erik Davis's book is a time capsule of that special time when the future was pregnant with untold possibilities. Today, as the afterword explains, some of that aesthetic imaginary feels outdated. They were the first, naïve attempts at putting to words the emerging sensibilities of technological spirituality. But they were also the vital seeds of the slow creation of social meaning appropriate for the 21st century. Virtual Reality was only a dream then. It is a reality now. Mass scale social media was only a figment of imagination then. It is a full blown reality today. As such, delving into the first and second waves of techno-futuristic mania in the 90s is of more than historic value today. We are still living in the TechGnostic trajectory of human development. Connecting with our emerging technologies on a spiritual level, or at least on an imaginary level, can provide new ethical, social, and political guidelines for a life in an interconnected, evolving word.
The first thing that sticks to mind when reading the book is the presence of a kind of technological drunkenness that permeates the whole book. Its style mimics its subject matter. Davis writes about the Dionysian dreams of the internet age not merely as a cool observer but as a participant. You get a sense of excitement and dreaminess, as if the whole book is a long, high tech acid trip. The writing style is a mixture of the journalistic and the priestly. It deals with obscure occultisms and hermetic homilies that are interpreted to the profane in the exoteric language of journalism. For the most part, the book successfully pulls off the difficult task of communicating esoteric knowledge to a secular readership that needs to be convinced (presumably) of its internal coherence. And it showcases a remarkable familiarity with the historical developments of the internet age. Some of the most perceptive sections deal with the deep history (what might be called the "spiritual anthropology") of technological development. The author convincingly shows how all new technologies, from the arts of writing and skygazing to the tools of electricity, became infused with novel meanings and objects of gnostic fascination. This evolutionary history is long and interesting. The successive unfolding of spiritualized man-machine relationships did not start with McLuhan and the Global Village. It is as old as humanity itself and as young as the yet unborn.
The central insight of the book is that technologies shape human beings as much as human beings shape technologies. And this shaping can be understood in evolutionary, even transcendental terms: as we increase our ability to control nature, nature tightens its control over us in the process, but in a way that gives human beings new powers of action, communication, and cooperation. Technology is nature's way of directing human evolution towards unknown ends. Technology seems to be guiding us rather than the other way around. As puppets of evolution, we might as well enjoy the ride and make the most of it. Even if there is no finish line.
At the same time, the one big shortcoming of the book, and of the optimistic TechGnostic imagination itself, is its failure to foresee how technological development can be easily diverted into crass and boring ends. We are still waiting on the promised singularity while we are ever more cognizant of the limits of human evolution. As Peter Thiel has put it: "We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters.” At the same time, authoritarian countries are using technology to keep people docile and trapped. This makes some of the utopian technological promises of the early days seem hopelessly naïve.
However, I do not think that the "TechGnostic" imagination is going away. Nor should it. It still has many things to teach us. The eschatological dimension is unavoidable in any developmental process characterized by massive structural changes and asymptotic growth. Even though the Star Trek future is taking a long time coming, there are good reasons to think that it will. At least unless human beings manage to destroy themselves and the planet before it. Before then, human beings are going to be fundamentally shaped by new technologies that are constantly evolving. One of them is CRISPR-Cas9, the gene editing technology, whose social ramifications are yet unknown. Jennifer A. Doudna and Emmanuelle Charpentier were awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 2020 for their discovery of the technology just a few days before I wrote this review.
So, although the techno-spiritual imagination of the early Internet cannot be replicated, it can, and must be, reimagined. Although it will be impossible to reach the singularity in Ray Kurzweil's lifetime, thereby disproving the most optimistic and foolhardy scenarios, it may be equally impossible to thwart during the lifetime of our grandchildren. Even. If. We. Wanted. To.