Why the Dark Enlightenment Captivates the Elite—And What It Would Take to Build Something Better
What happens when a class of extraordinary builders reaches the edge of its own philosophy.
If you spend enough time listening to the long-form conversations that define this era—the three-hour deep dives where founders, investors, and technologists finally say the quiet parts out loud—you start to notice a pattern beneath the curiosity. Some of the wealthiest and most influential people alive drift toward a worldview that is quietly despairing.
You hear a celebrated AI entrepreneur suggest that democracy may not survive contact with exponential technology.
You hear a legendary investor wonder whether “a benevolent technocratic class” might govern better than the electorate.
You hear a prominent founder joke—half-serious—about “installing someone competent” to run the country the way a CEO runs a firm.
These aren’t outliers. They’re recurring themes across the elite interview circuit: order over experimentation, hierarchy over deliberation, optimization over participation.
Most guests never use the phrase, but the architecture is familiar: the worldview often called the Dark Enlightenment.
And that raises a question: why would the winners of the current order seek refuge in a philosophy that treats humanity like a problem to be managed? Why would people who built their fortunes on creativity and disruption orbit a worldview rooted in resignation?
The answer isn’t greed. It’s gravity.
Ideas gain mass in confusing times—and heavy ideas pull powerful minds toward them.
When Builders Misread Their Own Myths
Success doesn’t just create pressure—it distorts reflection. Many elites spent their early years building companies, not themselves. They scaled platforms and markets far faster than they scaled their own interior lives. And when achievement outpaces understanding, even brilliant minds can lose their footing.
So they reach back into the stories that shaped them. But when those stories are read through the lens of victory rather than vulnerability, warnings invert. The moral architecture flips. The message fades.
