Forrest Landry is a philosopher, writer, researcher, scientist, engineer, craftsman, and teacher whose work centers on metaphysics, the design of very large scale complex systems, and the thriving of all forms of life on this planet. He is also the founder and CEO of Magic Flight, a company known for introducing the portable vaporizer, and a third-generation master woodworker who found that his hands-on training in craft carried directly into skill in software systems design, governance architecture, and community process.
Landry grew up in rural Maine, working wood alongside his father from early childhood and building, in his words, a felt sense that “nature doesn’t negotiate”: a discipline learned through the body before it was learned through mathematics. At sixteen he made a vow to go into the forest alone and meet the natural world unaided, without expectation or projection, a rite of passage he later described as an encounter with the world unmasked. That experience convinced him that no existing spiritual or religious tradition offered the rigor he was looking for: real depth of feeling, real formal precision, and a clear bridge between the two. Rather than search further, he set out to build that bridge himself, a decades-long project that became his book An Immanent Metaphysics, an attempt to restore legitimacy to metaphysics through a coherent, precise account of what is, what it is to know, and why we are here.
That same combination of craft discipline and formal ambition carried Landry into large-scale systems work, including federal classified and unclassified projects for the FBI, DARPA, and the Library of Congress Congressional Records System, and later into collaboration with Daniel Schmachtenberger’s Consilience Project on sensemaking, governance, and existential risk. Across all of it runs a single ethical claim he states plainly: love is what enables choice, love is stronger than fear, and one should always choose on the basis of love.
That claim, and the larger project behind it, sits close to convictions a Mormon transhumanist sensibility already holds: that rigor and reverence are not competitors, that the architecture of our systems is a moral question and not merely a technical one, and that compassion is the standard against which any exercise of power, human or artificial, should be measured. Landry’s insistence on building the bridge himself when no tradition supplied one, and his instinct to treat both feeling and formalism as trustworthy sources of understanding, gives his work a natural kinship with a theology that asks its adherents to do the same kind of integrative labor toward the thriving of all life.