分类： politics

Recent revelations about a secretive elite network organized by German-American tech billionaire Peter Thiel have pulled back the curtain on a growing, underreported trend: the spread of apocalyptic, end-times worldviews among the most powerful figures in global politics and technology. Thiel, the co-founder of PayPal and data analytics firm Palantir, has brought together top CEOs, billionaires, and high-ranking political leaders for his closed group called “Dialog,” with confirmed members including NATO Supreme Commander Alexus Grynkewich and former White House senior advisor Jared Kushner, Donald Trump’s son-in-law. This year, Thiel also delivered a series of confidential lectures in San Francisco that framed modern debates over technology and politics through biblical apocalyptic language.

Thiel has publicly argued that humanity faces existential catastrophe from two sources: nuclear conflict and unregulated, out-of-control artificial intelligence, which he claims could trigger a biblical “Armageddon.” In his framework, only the most innovative and privileged elite — those included in his secret network — would survive such a collapse. Thiel is far from an outlier; a growing share of powerful figures across technology and politics now view global affairs through the lens of imminent civilizational collapse, a shift that is reshaping policy and geopolitics.

The use of end-times narratives to consolidate political power is not a new phenomenon. Centuries ago, Rome’s first emperor Augustus leveraged fears of moral decay across the empire to justify centralizing all authority in his own hands. But today’s iteration of “end-times politics” differs dramatically from historical precedents. Both real and manufactured threats now spread at unprecedented speeds, amplified by social media algorithms that prioritize outrage, hysteria, and conspiracy theories over nuanced, factual reporting.

In Silicon Valley circles, AI is routinely framed as either humanity’s savior or its ultimate extinction event. Palantir CEO Alex Karp has gone so far as to call the global race to advance artificial intelligence “our Oppenheimer moment,” arguing that wealthy world powers must choose between halting development of a potentially catastrophic technology or racing ahead to seize a decisive geopolitical advantage.

Yet this apocalyptic thinking has long since moved beyond the eccentric bubbles of Silicon Valley, embedding itself in the highest halls of formal political power. Political leaders now leverage end-times narratives to advance radical policy agendas, a trend that has been particularly pronounced in the second Trump administration. A large number of active-duty U.S. military personnel have filed official complaints alleging that senior commanders use biblical end-times rhetoric to justify planned U.S. military action against Iran, framing conflict with the country as a necessary precursor to the second coming of Jesus Christ.

This rhetoric has grown alongside the Trump administration’s deliberate courting of the Christian right, particularly evangelical voters, who form a core constituency for the administration’s “spiritual warfare” agenda. U.S. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth has repeatedly positioned himself as a divine instrument in an existential civilizational battle to defend Christianity, and senior administration officials have systematically stacked Pentagon and other executive department roles with evangelical Christians and Christian Zionists. This pattern forms part of a broader ideological shift, where leading political and business figures blend their interpretations of Christian eschatology with beliefs about American global supremacy.

The tangible consequences of this apocalyptic myth-making are already visible in U.S. foreign and domestic policy. Trump’s stark threats against Iran — including an April statement warning that “a whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again” — illustrate how end-times framing paves the way for radical, high-stakes policy shifts, both in the U.S. and across the globe. The Trump administration has also pushed the narrative that Europe faces irreversible continental decline and “civilizational erasure” driven by immigration and European integration, echoing similar rhetoric from right-wing leaders across the West. Reform UK leader Nigel Farage, for example, has repeatedly warned that the United Kingdom is on the brink of “societal collapse” driven by immigration and progressive policy change.

Decades of social science research confirm that when populations believe they face an existential threat, they are far more willing to support extreme, extraordinary measures that would be rejected in ordinary times. Research also shows that the personal psychological dispositions of political leaders carry far more weight during periods of widespread uncertainty. The rapid, unforeseen changes brought by technological transformation and climate disruption have already created widespread public anxiety, and this creates a dangerous opening: leaders can frame political opponents, grassroots social movements, and marginalized minority groups as existential “foes” to justify consolidation of power and crackdowns on dissent.

Modern end-times politics is ultimately a battle to define what counts as the ultimate threat facing humanity. In an era where the world faces a growing list of tangible, evidence-based risks, these elite apocalyptic worldviews will shape how both national and global politics evolve in the coming decades. This shift is compounded by another critical change to global power structures: for most of modern history, the most influential actors in global politics were elected officials and state institutional leaders. Today, a new class of unelected tech executives, armed with massive personal wealth and outsized media influence, exercise unprecedented power over state policy. Their influence often penetrates deep into the core of state institutions, exemplified by Elon Musk’s senior role leading the U.S. Department of Government Efficiency and SpaceX’s centrality to U.S. global defense and space strategy.

For decades, political scholars analyzed global politics through the lens of formal institutions and structural power dynamics, and framed globalization as a product of cross-border business interests. Today, however, the future of both global governance and the global economy increasingly hinges on the personal beliefs and psychological outlooks of a small, unaccountable elite of political and corporate leaders.

This elite apocalyptic framing often involves selective emphasis on certain threats while deliberately downplaying others. Many tech executives tie the promise of a prosperous, stable future exclusively to unconstrained, disruptive technological innovation. U.S. venture capitalist Marc Andreessen is a leading proponent of “technological accelerationism,” an ideology that argues unregulated, rapid technological development is the only viable solution to all of the world’s most pressing existential problems.

The core challenge for the public and policymakers today is distinguishing between genuine, evidence-based threats and manufactured narratives that amplify fear to distract from more pressing issues. At a moment when public discourse is saturated with predictions of imminent collapse, it is more critical than ever to prioritize risks that are backed by empirical data — such as the accelerating climate crisis and the growing erosion of democratic institutions around the world.

On the question of whether unregulated tech innovation can solve climate change and deliver global peace, there is good reason to approach the claims of tech billionaires with deep skepticism. After all, Thiel himself has already hedged against the collapse he predicts, preparing both a fortified bunker in New Zealand and a personal refuge in Javier Milei’s Argentina, signaling that even the biggest promoters of apocalyptic elite narratives do not believe their own rhetoric about technology saving the world.

In a sweeping policy shift announced Thursday, the second Trump administration will end a nearly 50-year-old immigration provision by imposing strict fixed-duration stay limits on non-immigrant visa holders including international students, cultural exchange participants and foreign journalists.

The final amended rule, released by the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS), replaces the long-standing “Duration of Status (D/S)” admission system that allowed F-class student visa holders and J-class exchange scholar visa holders to remain in the U.S. for the full duration of their academic programs or exchange appointments, regardless of how long that took. Under the new framework, all F, J, and I-class journalist visa holders will only receive fixed-period admission capped at a maximum of four years total.

Additional restrictions in the rule bar graduate students from changing their academic goals or transferring to a new institution without explicit government approval. It also cuts the post-program grace period that allows visa holders to wrap up their affairs and depart the country from 60 days to just 30 days. For journalists holding I visas, the caps are far stricter: most are limited to 240-day stays, while Chinese journalists face an even shorter limit of 90 days.

DHS officials justified the overhaul, arguing the 1978-era D/S policy had become outdated, was regularly abused for immigration fraud, and posed unacceptable risks to U.S. national security. “By implementing clear, finite limits on these visas, the United States is reclaiming its ability to properly screen, vet, and monitor individuals within our borders,” DHS Secretary Markwayne Mullin said in a statement. “This final rule ensures that foreign students remain focused on their primary purpose: completing their studies and returning home.”

China swiftly condemned the new restrictions Friday, with Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman Lin Jian calling on the U.S. to immediately reverse the discriminatory policy targeting Chinese journalists. Lin noted that Washington’s new barriers to people-to-people exchanges offer no benefit to either country, and confirmed China retains the full right to implement reciprocal countermeasures in response to the move.

Within U.S. academic communities, the policy change has already triggered widespread chaos, anxiety, and uncertainty among the more than 1.1 million international students and 220,000 international scholars currently residing in the U.S. Lihua He, an immigration attorney based in California’s San Francisco Bay Area, told China Daily her office has been inundated with hundreds of calls and emails from visa holders desperate to secure information about how to maintain their legal status.

While the DHS rule does allow students and scholars in good standing to apply for extensions to complete their programs, there is no guarantee extensions will be approved. “It creates uncertainty for the future of international students, and became an emotional burden for their families,” He explained.

Jade Wen, who works in the international student services office at a San Francisco community college, said she has also been flooded with inquiries from panicked students. “They are very concerned about deportation or removal from the United States if they can’t finish their degree as scheduled,” Wen said.

Russell Jeung, a professor of Asian American Studies at San Francisco State University, argued the new rule is part of a broader pattern of escalating anti-immigrant policy pushed by the Trump administration, which has framed restrictive measures as necessary to protect U.S. national security and advance its “America First” agenda. Jeung called the restrictive visa framework an extension of long-running racial exclusion policies targeting Asian and non-Western visitors to the U.S.

The new rule is scheduled to enter into force on September 15, and will undergo a mandatory congressional review period before taking full effect.

Deep in rural Alabama’s Black Belt, the small city of Tuskegee bears the layered weight of American history: where Confederate monuments stand blocks from the training grounds of the nation’s first Black Air Force pilots, and where systemic inequality still shapes daily life for its majority-Black population. For 19-year-old Tuskegee University student De’Mari Benham, that inequality hit close to home earlier this year when a shattered glass door sliced open his arm, leaving him bleeding and with limited options for care. With no full-service hospital or 24-hour emergency clinic within city limits, Benham was rushed to the local fire department, where first responders wrapped his wound and urged him to travel to the next town for stitches and prescription medication. He declined the trip — both because the journey was long, and because he could not afford the cost of care.

Benham’s story is far from unique in Tuskegee, a community of fewer than 9,000 people where more than 80% of residents are Black, nearly one in three live below the poverty line, and basic public infrastructure is chronically underfunded. Fire department captain Dondrell Hopson says his crew responds to calls for emergency medical help that no other local provider will handle, from deep cuts to life-threatening bullet wounds. The fire station itself, the first stop for many injured residents, is structurally unfit to serve as an ad-hoc clinic.

That started to change two years ago, when Democrat Shomari Figures made history as the first Black representative for Tuskegee in modern U.S. Congress. Within a year of taking office, Figures secured $1 million in federal funding to build a new combined civic center, which will double as a storm fallout shelter and house the city’s updated police and fire departments — the same department that stepped in to treat Benham. He also delivered $500,000 in federal funding for a much-needed MRI machine at Eufaula’s only regional hospital, plus more than $1 million in tax credits to keep the struggling facility open. For the first time in decades, local leaders and residents saw tangible progress on long-ignored community needs.

But that progress is now at risk, following a seismic 2025 ruling from the U.S. Supreme Court that weakened a key provision of the 1965 Voting Rights Act, opening the door for Alabama’s Republican-led legislature to redraw congressional districts and eliminate the majority-Black district that elected Figures. The new map folds Figures’ current district into a new, white-majority constituency that leans heavily conservative, forcing the first-term Democrat to defend his seat in November’s midterm elections against a Republican opponent endorsed by former President Donald Trump and House Speaker Mike Johnson.

The fight over Alabama’s congressional maps stretches back years. Every 10 years, states redraw district lines to reflect population shifts, a process that often leads to partisan gerrymandering, where the ruling party draws lines to favor its own candidates. In 2023, the Supreme Court initially struck down Alabama’s original Republican-drawn map, ruling it illegally diluted Black voting power by splitting southern Alabama’s concentrated Black population across multiple districts. A court-ordered new map created two majority-Black or near-majority-Black districts, clearing the way for Figures’ 2024 election victory.

But the Supreme Court reversed course in April 2025, issuing a new ruling that makes it far harder to challenge district maps for racial discrimination. Alabama Republicans quickly moved to implement their original preferred map, erasing the second majority-Black district. Figures argues the push for the new map is explicitly racially motivated, pointing to public record of state legislators referring to majority-Black Montgomery as “monkey town” in text messages exchanged during the redistricting process. Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall denies racial motivation, framing the map change as a standard partisan power play, noting that Democrats have also redrawn maps in blue states to gain partisan advantage.

Cedric Coley, chair of Alabama Young Republicans, argues that race-based districting is itself unfair, saying candidates should be elected based on merit rather than racial quota. “I just don’t believe that we should box people in racial quotas based on our history of discrimination,” Coley said. “People should be judged on what they’ve earned, not the color of their skin.”

But Black residents and civil rights activists across the Black Belt say the map change is nothing less than a direct effort to strip their communities of political representation, rolling back decades of slow progress on voting rights. “It’s a big setback for Black people,” says Joe Reed, a Montgomery-based civil rights lawyer and activist. “In Alabama, with the polarized voting we have, everything is race. Everything.”

That polarization is visible in the stark inequalities that shape daily life across the newly redrawn district. In Eufaula, a small rural community 62 miles east of Tuskegee, the Black poverty rate sits at nearly 57% — more than four times the poverty rate for white residents. For 71-year-old Mary Porter, a lifelong resident who marched as a child to pass the 1965 Voting Rights Act, the Supreme Court’s ruling evokes the worst era of Jim Crow segregation. “We don’t want those kind of laws to come back,” Porter said. Porter, who relies on friends and faith to travel 50 miles for routine medical care after two strokes, says having a representative who prioritizes the community’s needs has already changed life for the better: the local hospital, which was at risk of closure, is finally getting its first MRI machine thanks to Figures’ federal funding. Hospital CEO Jannet Kinney says losing Figures would put the facility and the care it provides to 60 miles of rural residents at risk. “I’d hate to lose anybody that cares,” Kinney said.

Even Eufaula’s four-term Republican mayor Jack Tibbs, who is nonpartisan in office, praised Figures’ work and says he fears what will happen if the representative loses his seat. “I’ve seen him four times since he went into office,” Tibbs said. “I can’t say that about the previous guy.”

As November approaches, Figures is running as an underdog in the newly redrawn district, which added large swathes of majority-white, conservative rural farmland to his constituency. While analysts widely expect the seat to flip to Republican, recent polling shows Figures remains competitive. Outside a historic Black church in Tuskegee that once harbored resistance to discriminatory redistricting in the 1950s, residents say they are gearing up for a fight to keep the representation they won. “They’re trying to remove our voices and our votes, trying to make our votes less powerful,” said 18-year-old Tuskegee University student Deirdre Newcomb. For 73-year-old resident Gale Brown, the ruling is a heartbreaking step backward: “I never thought this would happen in my lifetime.” But for lifelong resident Emmanuel Freeman, the path forward is clear: “We gone fight. That’s all we ever done.”