Part 3

Chapter 18: Antichrist, Epstein, and Structural Evil

19 min read|3,758 words

The Structure the Concept Points At

The word "antichrist" is one of the most abused terms in the theological lexicon. Apocalyptic preachers apply it to every politician they dislike. Conspiracy theorists identify it with whatever shadowy cabal occupies their attention. Popular culture has reduced it to a horror-movie villain -- a single demonic figure who will appear at the end of history to do battle with Christ in a cosmic showdown. All of this is noise. The signal underneath the noise is one of the most important structural concepts in the Christian theological tradition, and it maps onto the diagnostic framework of this book with a precision that the popular distortions obscure.

The Greek prefix anti- means both "against" and "in place of." The Antichrist is not merely the opponent of Christ. It is the replacement of Christ -- the entity that occupies Christ's position, performs Christ's functions, mimics Christ's appearance, while inverting Christ's content. The Antichrist is the perfect counterfeit. Not darkness opposing light, which would be easy to detect, but darkness wearing the mask of light -- which is, as Chapter 2 argued, the hardest deception to penetrate, because the mask exploits the very perceptual system that evolved to respond to the genuine article.

This is the psycho class operating at the civilizational scale. Chapter 2 described individual psychopaths who simulate prosocial behavior to exploit normie trust. The Antichrist concept scales this to institutions, systems, and epochs: the systematic mimicry of goodness by structures that have been captured by predatory logic. The philanthropic foundation that launders reputation. The religious institution that sells salvation. The democratic system that performs consent while concentrating power. The university that certifies competence while producing compliant graduates. Each of these is an antichrist structure -- not because the institution was always predatory but because the institution's original prophetic or liberating function has been captured and inverted while the surface appearance is maintained.

The genius of the concept is that it predicts its own invisibility. The Antichrist is, by definition, the evil that looks like good. Any diagnostic framework that detects evil by looking for things that appear evil will miss the Antichrist entirely. The psycho class's camouflage works precisely because normie cognition detects threats by looking for hostile signals, and the camouflage presents prosocial signals. The Antichrist is what happens when this dynamic operates at the level of entire institutions, entire systems, entire civilizations.

This is why I have spent so much time in this manuscript building tools for seeing through surfaces. The normie/psycho/schizo taxonomy (Chapter 2). Pearl's causal inference (Chapter 9). The distinction between correlation and causation, between appearance and generating mechanism. All of these are, in a sense, anti-Antichrist technologies: formal tools for detecting the mimicry that the concept predicts.


The Epstein Structure

I use the Epstein case not because it is unique but because it reveals the structure with unusual clarity. The structure I want to illuminate is not the specific crimes of one individual but the system of relationships that produced, sustained, and ultimately managed the revelation of those crimes.

Jeffrey Epstein presented himself as a philanthropist, a patron of science, a friend of intellectuals, a man whose wealth was deployed in the service of ideas. He funded research institutions. He hosted gatherings where Nobel laureates mingled with world leaders. He cultivated relationships with universities, politicians, and cultural figures who lent their credibility to his public persona. The surface -- the correlational surface, the Level 1 surface (Chapter 9) -- was impeccable.

The causal structure underneath the surface was the systematic exploitation of children, sustained by a network of complicity that extended into the highest levels of political, financial, and cultural power. The philanthropy was not incidental to the predation. It was the mechanism of the predation. The credibility purchased by donations to MIT, to Harvard, to scientific research programs was the camouflage that made the predation possible. The normie trust apparatus -- "this man is a philanthropist, he has the endorsement of institutions we trust, therefore he must be trustworthy" -- was the exact vulnerability that the structure exploited.

This is the Antichrist pattern at industrial scale. Not evil that looks like evil, which would be detected and destroyed. Evil that looks like the highest good -- science, philanthropy, the cultivation of knowledge -- and that uses the appearance of good as the instrument of the deepest predation.

I want to be careful here, because the analysis can easily slide into the kind of conspiratorial thinking that Chapter 2 distinguished from genuine prophetic perception. I am not claiming that every philanthropist is a predator. I am not claiming that institutional endorsement is always camouflage. I am claiming something more specific and more structural: that the system in which reputation is purchased through philanthropy and credentialing creates a structural vulnerability that predatory actors will exploit, and that the Epstein case is a documented instance of this exploitation, not an anomaly but a revelation of the system's design.

The system did not fail when it produced Epstein. The system revealed its nature.


Girard's Scapegoat and the Anti-Scapegoat

Rene Girard's mimetic theory provides the interpretive framework I need to analyze what happened after the Epstein network was exposed, and why the exposure has not produced the reckoning that the scale of the crimes would seem to demand.

Girard's core insight, developed in Violence and the Sacred and subsequent works, is that human communities manage internal violence through the scapegoat mechanism. When social tensions accumulate to a critical level, the community unconsciously selects a victim -- the scapegoat -- onto whom the community's violence is collectively discharged. The scapegoat is sacrificed, and the sacrifice produces a cathartic resolution: the community's tensions dissipate, social cohesion is restored, and the violence is localized in the body of the victim rather than distributed through the community.

The mechanism works because the community believes -- genuinely believes -- that the scapegoat is uniquely responsible for the social crisis. The scapegoat is not perceived as an arbitrary victim but as the genuine source of the problem. The sacrifice feels just. The relief feels earned. The community moves on with its conscience intact, because the violence was directed at someone who "deserved it."

Girard's crucial extension: the scapegoat mechanism is the foundation of archaic religion. The sacrificed victim becomes sacred -- simultaneously the source of the crisis and the source of its resolution, simultaneously polluted and purifying. The sacred, in Girard's analysis, is not a pre-existing metaphysical category. It is the residue of the scapegoat mechanism: the aura that surrounds the victim whose sacrifice restored order.

Now apply this to Epstein.

Epstein is a nearly perfect Girardian scapegoat. He is genuinely guilty. His crimes are documented, horrifying, and beyond reasonable dispute. The community's desire to destroy him -- the collective outrage, the demands for justice -- is not irrational. It is the appropriate response to genuine evil. The scapegoat mechanism works most effectively precisely when the victim IS guilty, because the guilt of the victim legitimizes the collective violence and prevents the community from examining whether the violence is really about justice or about something else.

The "something else" is the system that produced and sustained Epstein. The network of enablers, clients, and protectors whose complicity made the operation possible over decades. The institutional structures -- financial, political, academic -- that provided cover. The scapegoat mechanism's function is to localize the evil in Epstein's person so that the system itself escapes examination. If Epstein is the problem, then Epstein's death is the solution. If the system is the problem, then no individual punishment is sufficient, and the community must confront the uncomfortable truth that the structures it trusts are the structures that enabled the predation.

Girard argued that the Christ event reveals and dismantles the scapegoat mechanism. Christ is the scapegoat who refuses to be a scapegoat -- the victim whose innocence is visible, whose sacrifice does not produce cathartic resolution but instead exposes the mechanism itself. The crowd that demanded crucifixion cannot return to its routines with a clean conscience, because the victim's innocence has been demonstrated, and the mechanism's violence has been made visible. Christ is the anti-scapegoat: the sacrifice that, instead of resolving violence, reveals the sacrificial system for what it is.

Epstein is neither Christ nor anti-Christ in this specific Girardian sense. He is guilty. His sacrifice is not unjust. But his case functions as a failed version of the scapegoat mechanism -- a partial exposure that disrupts the clean catharsis without producing the full revelation. The Epstein files were released. Some names emerged. The community experienced a partial catharsis. But the mechanism has not been fully exposed, and the system has not been confronted. The scapegoat was offered, but it was not sufficient to contain the evil it was supposed to localize, because the evil is systemic, not individual.


The Controlled Revelation Problem

This leads to what I consider one of the most important structural problems for any prophetic enterprise in the current epoch: the controlled revelation.

The Epstein files were not leaked by whistleblowers. They were released through legal processes managed by the same institutional apparatus that failed to prevent the crimes in the first place. The revelation was controlled. The timing, the extent, the framing -- all were products of institutional decision-making, not prophetic breakthrough.

This matters because controlled revelation is a power tool, not a justice tool. When the system itself controls the timing and extent of its own exposure, the exposure serves the system's interests, not the public's. The controlled revelation allows intra-elite warfare (one faction using the files against another) to masquerade as transparency. It allows managed disclosure to substitute for genuine accountability. It allows the system to metabolize the scandal -- to process it, contain it, and emerge intact on the other side, having sacrificed one individual and perhaps a few others while preserving the structural conditions that produced the crimes.

This is the deepest perversion identified in the normie/psycho/schizo framework: the system has learned to produce simulated schizo output. Controlled revelations that mimic prophetic truth-telling. Investigations that look like accountability but function as containment. Transparency performances that satisfy the normie demand for oversight without disrupting the psychopathic power structures.

The system has incorporated the prophetic function into the predatory structure. Exposure is metabolized. Revelation is managed. The prophetic act of making hidden things visible has been captured and turned into an instrument of the very power it was supposed to challenge.

I have watched this in Ukraine. The international community "revealed" Russia's crimes -- documented them, condemned them, passed resolutions. The revelation was genuine in the sense that the information was accurate. It was controlled in the sense that the response was calibrated to avoid any action that would genuinely threaten the system's stability. The normie international community experienced the catharsis of moral condemnation without the cost of genuine confrontation. The psycho-class actors -- on multiple sides -- continued operating within the managed framework of the revelation. The prophetic function was performed. Nothing changed.


The Simulated Schizo

The controlled revelation problem is a specific instance of a more general phenomenon: the system's capacity to simulate every form of dissent, including the most radical.

Chapter 2 argued that the psycho class studies the game that normies play unconsciously. I need to extend this: the psycho class also studies the game that schizos play. It learns to simulate prophetic perception, to produce outputs that look like truth-telling, to perform the role of the radical critic. This simulation serves two functions: it satisfies normie demand for accountability (the audience feels that someone is speaking truth to power) and it inoculates the system against genuine prophetic speech (the genuine prophet is drowned out by simulated prophets, or is indistinguishable from them in the information environment).

Consider the modern media landscape through this lens. Every major news outlet performs "investigations." Every social media platform hosts "whistleblowers." Every political faction produces "truth-tellers" who condemn the other faction's corruption. The surface is saturated with revelation. The structure is unchanged.

This is not because the revelations are all false. Many are genuine. The problem is that genuine and simulated revelation are mixed in proportions that the normie audience cannot distinguish, and the simulation is produced by the same system that the genuine revelation threatens. The signal-to-noise ratio is deliberately degraded. The prophetic function is overwhelmed not by silence but by noise -- noise that mimics the signal, drowning it out more effectively than censorship ever could.

I described this in Chapter 3 as the modern catastrophe: the dismantling of institutional containers for prophetic perception. Here I want to add a further dimension: the system has not merely dismantled the containers. It has replaced them with simulations. There are prophets everywhere. They are on YouTube, on Twitter, on podcasts, on Substack. Many are genuine. Many are simulated. And there is no institutional mechanism for distinguishing between them -- no prophetic tradition, no discernment community, no interpretive layer that can separate signal from noise at scale.


The Apostolic Response

If the problem is structural, the response must be structural. Individual prophetic acts -- revelations, exposures, whistleblowing -- are necessary but not sufficient. They are necessary because the information must be made visible. They are insufficient because the system has learned to metabolize individual revelations without changing its structure. The question is: what mode of seeing can the system not metabolize?

I want to propose two answers, one formal and one ethical, and I want to be honest about the limitations of both.

The formal answer: causal analysis. The system metabolizes narrative. It metabolizes revelation presented as story, as scandal, as moral outrage. What it cannot as easily metabolize is structural analysis that shows the generating mechanism rather than the individual instance.

When Pearl's causal inference (Chapter 9) is applied to the Epstein structure, what emerges is not "one bad man did bad things" but a directed acyclic graph showing the causal relationships between philanthropy, credentialing, institutional trust, regulatory capture, and predatory opportunity. The DAG does not name individuals. It names mechanisms. Philanthropy causes reputation. Reputation causes access. Access causes opportunity. Institutional dependence on philanthropic funding causes willful blindness. Each of these causal relationships can be tested, measured, and -- crucially -- intervened upon.

The causal analysis bypasses the narrative management that the controlled revelation depends on. The system can manage which names are released, which stories are told, which scandals are amplified and which are suppressed. It cannot manage the causal structure itself, because the causal structure is a property of the system, not of any particular narrative about the system. The DAG is invariant to spin. The generating mechanism operates regardless of which story is being told about it.

This is why the Republic of AI Agents (Chapter 20) makes causal inference its core methodology. Not because causal analysis is morally superior to narrative -- it is not -- but because it targets the generating mechanism rather than the surface manifestation, and the generating mechanism is what the antichrist structure relies on. Cut the surface, and it regenerates. Cut the mechanism, and the structure collapses.

But I need to be honest about the limitation. Even causal analysis can be captured. The same tools that reveal predatory structures can be used to construct more sophisticated predatory structures. The same AI that detects manipulation patterns can be used to design more effective manipulation patterns. The formal answer is necessary but not sufficient. The arms race between prophetic tools and predatory tools has no formal solution, because formal tools are available to both sides.

The ethical answer: the commitment that cannot be formalized. The theology only works if the theologian is trying to be good, not just right. This is an unformalizable condition. No smart contract (Chapter 20's governance layer) can encode genuine ethical commitment. No reputation token can distinguish between genuine integrity and its simulation -- the simulation is, as Chapter 2 argued, the psycho class's core competence. No formal system can guarantee that its operators will use it for its intended purpose rather than for predatory purposes.

This is, in theological terms, the problem of grace. The formal system (the Law, in Pauline language) can specify what is right but cannot produce the will to do it. The causal analysis can reveal the structure of evil but cannot motivate the choice to dismantle it rather than exploit it. Something beyond the formal system is needed -- something that the tradition calls the Holy Spirit, that Pirsig (Chapter 21) calls Quality, that Hofstadter (Chapter 14) identifies with the strange loop's capacity to generate Godelian truths that transcend the system's own rules.

I do not have a formal solution to this problem, and I distrust anyone who claims to. What I have is an architectural principle: the Republic of AI Agents must be designed so that its governance structures resist capture (smart contracts, transparency requirements, distributed authority) while acknowledging that no design is capture-proof. The system must be built by people who are genuinely committed to its stated purposes, and the genuine commitment is the one variable that cannot be engineered.


The Tension That Cannot Be Resolved

The deepest honesty this chapter requires is the acknowledgment that the tension between structural necessity and moral horror cannot be resolved -- and should not be resolved, because every resolution is a lie.

The Riemann sphere theology of Chapter 17 implies that every increase in complexity creates new possibilities for both good and evil simultaneously. The same cognitive architecture that enables the prophetic function enables paranoid delusion (Chapter 1). The same institutional structure that enables cooperation enables predatory capture (Chapter 2). The same technological amplification that enables transparency enables surveillance (Chapter 3). Evil is not an aberration in the system. It is a structural feature of the approach to God. As the function approaches the point at infinity on the Riemann sphere, the terrain it traverses becomes more complex, and the complexity generates new modalities of both good and evil.

This is the felix culpa argument of Chapter 12 applied to the present: the Fall initiates the trajectory. The trajectory passes through territory that includes genuine suffering, genuine predation, genuine evil -- not as accidents along the way but as structural features of the approach. The Antichrist is not the opponent of the Christ-trajectory. It is the shadow that the trajectory casts -- the structural evil that emerges from the same complexity that makes the trajectory possible.

The mathematical formulation: as |z| increases on the complex plane -- as the trajectory moves outward toward infinity -- the function may pass through regions where the derivative is large and the landscape is volatile. The closer to infinity, the more powerful both the attracting force and the disturbances. This is not a flaw in the topology. It is a property of any approach to a point at infinity in a space with structure.

I do not offer this as consolation. The structural necessity of evil does not diminish the moral reality of suffering. The Epstein network's victims suffered genuinely. The children of Ukraine suffer genuinely. The billions of people exploited by captured institutions suffer genuinely. Telling them that their suffering is "structurally necessary for the approach to the point at infinity" would be obscene. I will not say it.

What I will say is this: the spiral ascends. The suffering is real. Both are true. The theology holds these truths in tension rather than resolving the tension in either direction -- either by denying the suffering (theodicy's perennial temptation) or by denying the ascent (nihilism's perennial temptation). The honest position is the tense one: things are getting better AND things are horrifying, and neither truth dissolves the other.

This is, I believe, what the tradition means when it speaks of carrying the cross. Not masochism. Not the glorification of suffering. The refusal to resolve the tension by abandoning either pole. The commitment to work for the ascent while refusing to look away from the suffering that the ascent's own complexity generates.


Falsifiability

What would disprove this chapter's argument?

If the Antichrist concept, applied structurally, did not describe a recurring pattern in institutional life -- if careful historical analysis showed that institutional capture by predatory actors is a modern anomaly rather than a recurrent structural feature -- then the framework would fail as a general diagnostic tool. I believe the historical evidence is overwhelming, but this remains a testable claim.

If the controlled revelation problem could be solved by better transparency mechanisms alone -- if it turned out that the system's ability to metabolize exposure was not structural but contingent, eliminable by sufficient informational openness -- then the pessimism of this chapter about formal solutions would be unwarranted. I would welcome this falsification.

If the ethical commitment that I described as unformalizable turned out to be formalizable -- if some governance structure, some incentive mechanism, some combination of smart contracts and reputation tokens could genuinely guarantee that operators act in good faith -- then the theology's insistence on grace beyond law would be unnecessary. Again, I would welcome this. But I do not expect it. The psycho class's core competence is simulating exactly the commitments that formal systems attempt to verify. I do not believe this arms race has a formal winner.

If the tension between structural necessity and moral horror could be genuinely resolved -- if some future theology showed either that the suffering is not real (which would require denying the evidence) or that the ascent is not real (which would require denying the evidence from the opposite direction) -- then the tense position I have taken would be superseded. I do not think this resolution is possible, but I hold the impossibility as a hypothesis, not a dogma.

The chapter's argument stands or falls on whether the structural analysis of evil -- the Antichrist as systemic mimicry, the scapegoat mechanism as social management of collective violence, the controlled revelation as the system's learned immune response to prophetic exposure -- describes the world more accurately than the alternatives. The alternatives are: (1) evil is individual, not structural (the liberal position); (2) evil is structural but eliminable by correct social design (the Marxist position); (3) evil is structural and permanent (the conservative position). I am arguing for something different from all three: evil is structural, not eliminable, but navigable -- and the navigation is what the theology is for.