Brian Johnson, a billionaire biohacker and currently on his sixth day of a juice cleanse, has recently unveiled his own religion. It’s neither a cult nor a movement; it’s founded on data, pills, and the pursuit of eternal life without the conventional complications of divinity.
Johnson contends that death is merely a choice. He meticulously monitors every aspect of his bodily functions, even infusing his own blood with that of his son. He spends vast sums, asserting that the only matter of significance is himself. His fundamental teaching revolves around one command: do not die. His scripture? Biomarkers. His form of prayer? Metrics of performance.
This peculiar ideology claims that sin equates to a software glitch, suffering is simply an error in processing, and the soul is akin to data awaiting backup in the cloud.
It’s a curious, optimization-focused belief system that posits death as a flaw in a flawlessly engineered existence. Its followers, rather than bearing crosses, sport glucose monitors. Their directives include metrics like erection measurements, and going to bed by 8 PM isn’t about faith—it’s seen as a self-optimization project branded messianically.
What’s unsettling is not the existence of this belief but the growing parallels with certain trends emerging in Christianity.
Optimization Church
The concept of Christian transhumanism is now supported by manifestos, academic discussions, conferences, and organizations that reinterpret the Bible to align with a technologically driven worldview typically found in Silicon Valley.
This isn’t a fringe phenomenon. Preachers, pastors, and panels at theological colleges now engage in discussions where souls are treated almost like software systems.
The premise is straightforward: eternal life is no longer a matter of grace, but a product of advanced coding, cryogenic preservation, and enhanced cognitive abilities. In this view, the Second Coming is likened to the advent of a next-gen processor. Salvation? That’s simply off the table. Miracles attributed to Christ are now seen as early forms of medical innovation.
Will the blind see? That’s gene therapy in its infancy. The transformation of water into wine? A biochemical reaction. The multiplication of bread and fish? Just logistics in calorie distribution.
Everything that was once regarded as sacred has been diluted.
This isn’t just an unusual side note; it’s part of a notable shift within American religion, where timeless gospel promises are being gradually reframed in tech-speak. The essence of faith has been translated through digital means, and the sacred has become a point of manipulation. Restoration through regenerative medicine has replaced the old notions of redemption.
Salvation as a Service
There’s a certain absurdity in their self-assuredness. These individuals are serious. They treat their bodies like the latest gadgets while still viewing them as sacred. For them, Christ didn’t conquer death but anticipated a workaround.
In this new doctrine, sin equates to a bug in the system, suffering is simply a minor error, and the soul is akin to data waiting to be safeguarded digitally. What started as humans made in God’s image has morphed into gods molded by human aspirations.
Traditional Christians often perceive death as a portal to deeper truths and a reality beyond our understanding. In contrast, Christian transhumanists see it merely as an engineering hurdle. Crucifixion is reframed not as divine sacrifice, but more of a metaphor for human weakness. Resurrection becomes a prototype; immortality transitions from gift to goal, achieved via laboratory-crafted organs and wearable tech.
No longer is the cross seen as the site where death was vanquished. Instead, it’s a place where death is just seen as an inconvenience waiting for updates.
You Will Not Die – Terms of Use Apply
Instead of humility, this approach breeds arrogance. The body transforms from a vessel into a project, a ‘meat computer’ ready for upgrades. Within this belief structure, aging is deemed irresponsible—mortality becomes the enemy of progress.
Johnson’s “Don’t Die” ethos radically redefines faith. His ideology lacks a deity, a holy book, or any historical context, relying instead on data points for validation. His followers treat supplements with more reverence than traditional communion, measuring sleep like monks used to count beads. They’ve moved beyond prayer to merely reviewing performance metrics. Forgiveness has been exchanged for fasting regimens, and devotion is tracked through biometric dashboards rather than community rituals.
Christian transhumanism mirrors this same structure but spins it with religious language. Optimization is sublimated to devotion; gene editing becomes a form of stewardship, and AI is framed as a divine assistant. There’s no heresy in this; only enhancement, and no judgment—just upgrades.
Faith Has Not Evolved – Faith Has Been Erased
This is not an evolution; it’s more of a disappearance. The line dividing humans and machines has become undefined. In this context, incarnation is viewed merely as an early stage of existence, while renewal suggests a promise of transformation.
The confusion embedded in theology isn’t merely a minor issue; it’s part of a broader civilized fantasy.
When the church aims for singularity, it ceases to function as a church. If pastors quote longevity studies instead of scripture, the pulpit morphs into just another podcast platform. What remains is not spiritual growth, but an act of surrender, reducing the community to a consumer base.
For two millennia, Christianity has provided profound insights into human suffering, mortality, and salvation. It directly confronts death without fear. It holds no promise of escape through technology but offers something much more radical—transformation conceived not by human hands, but by divine will.
This time-honored tradition is being dismantled by the influence of laboratory scientists and eager tech representatives.
Those advocating for Christian transhumanism believe they’re crafting the next reformation. In reality, they’re laying the groundwork for a digital heresy. They speak of partnership with the divine, but the core ambition seems to be replacing God altogether. Bit by bit, they face their own disillusionment until what remains is a purely upgraded human, convinced they’ve discovered eternity.
