Authors

Alan Wilson Watts (1915–1973) was a British-born American philosopher, writer, and speaker best known for popularizing Eastern philosophy—particularly Zen Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism—for Western audiences. He remains one of the most influential interpreters of Asian religious thought in the twentieth century. Watts began his career in England, where he was involved with the Buddhist Lodge in London. He later moved to the United States, briefly serving as an Episcopal priest before leaving the ministry to pursue a broader philosophical vocation. He became a professor and dean at the American Academy of Asian Studies in San Francisco and authored over twenty-five books, including The Way of Zen (1957), Psychotherapy East and West (1961), and The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are (1966). His lectures, many of which survive as recordings, continue to reach millions worldwide. Watts’s central teaching—that the individual self and the universe are fundamentally one—resonates with Mormon Transhumanist themes of theosis and the expansive potential of consciousness. His insistence that human beings are not merely in the universe but of it, expressions of a deeper cosmic process, parallels the tradition’s interest in humanity’s divine trajectory. However, significant differences exist. Watts generally rejected the concept of a personal God, viewing divinity as an impersonal process rather than a being with whom one could have a relationship. He was skeptical of doctrines of sin and moral depravity, seeing guilt as a psychological obstacle rather than a theological reality. He also questioned the Western emphasis on individual free will, favoring a view of spontaneous action aligned with Taoist wu wei . Despite these divergences, his lifelong project of dissolving boundaries between the sacred and the secular, the human and the divine, offers rich material for dialogue with Mormon Transhumanist thought.

Athanasius of Alexandria (c. 296–373 AD) was one of the most influential theologians in Christian history, serving as the twentieth Pope of Alexandria and playing a decisive role in the development of Trinitarian doctrine. His lifelong defense of the Nicene Creed against Arianism earned him the title ‘Father of Orthodoxy,’ while his writings on the incarnation articulated a vision of human transformation that continues to resonate in Eastern Orthodox theology and beyond. Born in Alexandria, Egypt, Athanasius received a thorough education in Greek literature, philosophy, and Christian scripture. As a young deacon, he accompanied Bishop Alexander to the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, where he witnessed the formulation of the creed that would define Christian orthodoxy. Three years later, at approximately thirty years of age, Athanasius succeeded Alexander as bishop of Alexandria—a position he would hold for forty-five years despite being exiled five times by various emperors sympathetic to Arianism. Athanasius ’ s most enduring theological contribution appears in his treatise On the Incarnation , written when he was still a young man. In this work, he articulated the doctrine of theosis—the belief that God became human so that humans might become divine. This concept, sometimes expressed as ‘God became man that man might become god,’ became central to Eastern Orthodox spirituality and has profound implications for understanding human potential and destiny. Throughout his tumultuous career, Athanasius faced opposition from Arian bishops, imperial persecution, and periods of exile in the Egyptian desert, Rome, and elsewhere. Yet he persisted in defending what he understood as apostolic faith against theological compromise. His friendship with the desert monks, including Anthony the Great, influenced his biography of Anthony, which became foundational for Christian monasticism and hagiography. Athanasius’s doctrine of theosis resonates profoundly with transhumanist themes. His vision of humanity’s potential for transformation and participation in divine nature anticipates contemporary discussions of human enhancement and transcendence. The idea that humans are destined for a radical elevation of their nature—not merely moral improvement but ontological transformation—connects ancient Christian theology with modern aspirations for human flourishing beyond current limitations.

Aurelius Augustinus Hipponensis (354–430), commonly known as Augustine of Hippo or Saint Augustine, was a theologian, philosopher, and Bishop of Hippo Regius in Roman North Africa. He is widely regarded as one of the most influential figures in the development of Western Christianity and Western philosophy. Augustine’s major works include Confessions , a pioneering spiritual autobiography, and The City of God , a monumental defense of Christianity against pagan criticism following the sack of Rome. His theological contributions shaped doctrines on original sin, divine grace, predestination, and the nature of the Trinity. Before his conversion to Christianity, he explored Manichaeism and Neoplatonism, and his synthesis of Christian doctrine with classical philosophy profoundly influenced medieval thought, the Protestant Reformation, and modern philosophy alike. Augustine’s concept of deificatio (divinization) — the idea that humanity is called to participate in the divine nature — resonates with Mormon Transhumanist themes of theosis and the elevation of human potential. His emphasis on humanity’s restless longing for God (“Our hearts are restless until they rest in You”) speaks to a vision of human beings as fundamentally oriented toward transcendence. However, significant tensions exist between Augustine’s theology and Mormon Transhumanist thought. Augustine’s doctrine of original sin and total human depravity, his skepticism of unaided human will, and his emphasis on predestination stand in marked contrast to Latter-day Saint affirmations of human agency, moral capacity, and an optimistic anthropology. Additionally, Augustine’s commitment to creatio ex nihilo and the absolute ontological distinction between Creator and creature diverges from Mormon theology’s more materialist and continuity-oriented understanding of God and humanity. Nevertheless, Augustine’s enduring call to seek wisdom, his insistence that faith and reason are complementary, and his vision of humanity’s ultimate union with the divine ensure his lasting relevance to conversations at the intersection of faith, philosophy, and human flourishing.

Basil of Caesarea (c. 330–379), known as Basil the Great, was a bishop, theologian, and monastic reformer whose intellectual and institutional labors helped shape the foundations of Eastern Christianity. Born into a devout Christian family in Cappadocia (present-day Turkey), he studied at the finest schools of his age—Athens and Constantinople—before returning to establish a monastic community and eventually serving as Bishop of Caesarea from 370 until his death. Basil’s achievements were as practical as they were theological. He founded what historians regard as one of the earliest organized charitable complexes in the ancient world, a compound outside Caesarea that included a hospital, a hospice for travelers, and care facilities for the poor—a concrete expression of his conviction that faith without compassionate action is hollow. As a theologian, he contributed decisively to the articulation of Trinitarian doctrine and authored influential monastic rules that still govern communities of Eastern Christian monks today. Together with his brother Gregory of Nyssa and their friend Gregory of Nazianzus, he formed the Cappadocian Fathers, whose synthesis of Greek philosophy and Christian revelation became a cornerstone of classical theology. Basil’s deepest legacy may lie in his vision of human transformation through divine participation. In his treatise On the Holy Spirit , he described a soul indwelt by the Spirit as one that becomes spiritual itself, capable of “foreknowledge of the future, understanding of mysteries, apprehension of what is hidden”—a soul that advances through illumination toward what he did not hesitate to call “the being made God.” This is the doctrine of theosis : the idea that created intelligence, shaped by virtue and suffused with grace, can ascend toward genuine likeness to—and participation in—divinity. For Basil, that ascent was not a flight from the material world but a transformation of the whole person: mind, moral life, and communal practice included. His combination of rigorous intellectual formation, institutional care for the vulnerable, and fearless theological aspiration about humanity’s divine potential makes him a persistent and generative voice in any serious conversation about the relationship between intelligence, virtue, and the destiny of human beings.

Brigham Young (1801–1877) was the second president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the architect of the Mormon migration to the Great Basin, and the founding governor of Utah Territory. As the organizing genius behind the settlement of the American West, he directed the colonization of more than 300 towns, established institutions of commerce and education, and shaped a distinctive religious civilization from the desert floor. Born in Whitingham, Vermont, Young converted to the restored church in 1832 after years of searching among the Methodist and Reformed faiths. He rose quickly through the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, led the harrowing evacuation of Nauvoo following Joseph Smith’s martyrdom in 1844, and guided an exodus of tens of thousands across the plains to the Salt Lake Valley in 1847. As church president for thirty years, he presided over the construction of the Salt Lake Temple, founded the University of Deseret, championed the Perpetual Emigration Fund to gather converts from Europe, and negotiated—not always successfully—the church’s uneasy relationship with the federal government. What the historical record reveals, and what Young’s own sermons confirm at every turn, is a mind constitutionally unwilling to divide the sacred from the natural. He taught that God operates by law, that miracles are simply “results or effects of causes hidden from our understandings,” and that every discovery in science and art has been “given by direct revelation from God.” The telegraph, the steam engine, the plow—all were, in his view, eternal principles progressively disclosed to a humanity climbing upward from its infancy. Science and religion were not rivals in his theology but two names for the same structured reality: “there is no true religion without true science, and consequently there is no true science without true religion.” This integration carried moral weight. Young urged the Saints to become a thinking people, warning against the spiritual danger of surrendering judgment to leaders rather than seeking personal revelation—a remarkable insistence on epistemic independence from a man who wielded considerable institutional authority. His vision of human destiny was correspondingly expansive. He affirmed that God “was once a man in mortal flesh as we are” and that humanity is “organized to become Gods,” called to exercise creative authority over matter across eternal worlds. He taught that identity—the preservation of the self through resurrection and exaltation—is “the greatest gift that God can bestow,” and he framed mortality as the school in which that self is forged through trial, independent thought, and disciplined living. His counsel to “prepare to live” rather than merely to die, and to extend healthy life by understanding natural law, anticipates a tradition of practical, body-affirming faith that takes seriously both the present body and its glorified future. Young remains a towering, complicated figure whose earthly administration included serious moral failures; yet his theological instinct—that intelligence, technology, and theosis belong to a single continuous story—endures as one of the most generative ideas in the Latter-day Saint tradition.

Bryce Haymond is an American designer, artist, writer, and independent scholar whose work explores the intersection of Mormon theology, mysticism, and the inner dimensions of human consciousness. Born and raised in the Salt Lake City area, he served a mission in El Salvador, studied design at Brigham Young University, and built a career as a professional designer and, more recently, as a developer working with generative AI. Haymond is the founder of the contemplative community and blog Thy Mind, O Human (thymindoman.com), where he investigates perennial wisdom traditions, altered states of consciousness, and the mystical cores of world religions. His scholarship draws on a broad range of sources—from Hugh Nibley and Margaret Barker to Mark Koltko-Rivera and Tibetan Buddhist philosophy—in pursuit of what he regards as the shared divine reality underlying all genuine mystical experience. He has presented multiple times at the Mormon Transhumanist Association conference, addressing the mystical core of Mormon spirituality, the Book of Mormon as literary alchemy, and most recently the use of AI art as a medium for reifying visionary and sacred experience. Haymond’s central argument—that Joseph Smith’s First Vision and comparable experiences across traditions represent genuine encounters with higher states of consciousness, accessible through contemplative practice—positions him at a generative intersection of religion, psychology, and technology. His reading of Joseph Smith as a practitioner of ‘technologies of transcendence,’ and his work using AI tools to render mystical visions into photorealistic sacred art, reflects a conviction that the boundary between inner and outer, spiritual and material, is more permeable than most traditions have allowed. The same intelligence that communes with ultimate reality in meditation, he suggests, can be cultivated, extended, and expressed through the tools humanity is now building—a vision that resonates deeply with Mormon Transhumanism’s aspiration to participate, as full human beings, in the ongoing work of creation and theosis.

Cameron Dayton is an American video game creative director, novelist, and writer known for his work in the gaming industry and speculative fiction. He has held prominent creative roles at several major studios, contributing to well-known franchises and original intellectual properties. Dayton served as creative director at Certain Affinity and has worked in narrative and creative leadership positions across the video game industry. He is also the author of the novel Etherwalker , a science-fantasy work set in a far-future world where technology and myth have intertwined, exploring themes of lost civilizations, human potential, and the rediscovery of powerful ancient technologies. His fiction often inhabits the intersection of epic fantasy and science fiction, imagining futures in which humanity’s relationship with technology is both perilous and transformative. Dayton has roots in the Latter-day Saint community, and his creative work reflects an imagination shaped by themes resonant with Mormon Transhumanist thought—particularly the idea that humanity’s trajectory involves the responsible stewardship of extraordinary power, and that the boundaries between the mundane and the transcendent are more porous than they appear. His speculative worlds frequently explore the tension between knowledge and wisdom, technological mastery and moral responsibility, echoing the Mormon Transhumanist conviction that scientific and technological progress are inseparable from ethical and spiritual development. His storytelling invites readers to consider what it means for ordinary individuals to inherit or rediscover capacities that border on the divine—a narrative arc that parallels the Latter-day Saint doctrine of theosis and the transhumanist aspiration toward radical human flourishing.

Clement of Alexandria (c. 150 – c. 215 CE) was an early Christian theologian and teacher whose synthesis of Greek philosophy and Christian faith made him one of the most intellectually ambitious figures of the patristic era. Born likely in Athens and educated across the Mediterranean world, he eventually settled in Alexandria—then the preeminent center of learning in the ancient world—where he led the Catechetical School and shaped the intellectual tradition of early Christianity. Clement’s major works— Protrepticus , Paedagogus , and Stromata —form a trilogy that moves the reader from conversion through moral formation toward deeper philosophical and spiritual knowledge. He drew freely from Plato, the Stoics, and Jewish wisdom literature, arguing that Greek philosophy was not an enemy of the Gospel but a preparatory gift, a kind of divine pedagogy for the Gentile mind. His vision of the gnostikos —the mature Christian who combines rigorous intellectual inquiry with devout practice—was a portrait of the fully integrated human being, one in whom reason and faith become indistinguishable. What gives Clement enduring significance is his unambiguous teaching that the purpose of human life is transformation into the divine. His own words carry the weight of this conviction: “The Word of God became a man so that you might learn from a man how to become a god.” This is not rhetorical flourish—it is a theological program. Clement understood salvation as an ongoing ascent, a journey from moral discipline through illuminated knowledge toward a state in which the human person becomes, in his phrase, “God-bearing and God-borne.” The redeemed, in his vision, are ultimately “called by the appellation of gods,” destined for “everlasting contemplation” alongside those perfected before them. This is theosis stated with unusual directness and intellectual confidence: divinity is the natural telos of an intelligence that cooperates with grace, learns earnestly, and loves deeply. For those who hold that human beings are meant to grow without limit—that intelligence, creativity, and moral aspiration are not merely useful traits but the very substance of our divine inheritance—Clement offers a patristic voice of striking resonance. He refused to separate the life of the mind from the life of the spirit, insisting that the same God who is Logos invites human beings into an ever-deepening participation in that reason and light. His is a theology not of passive redemption but of active, educable, transforming ascent.

Cyprian of Carthage (c. 200–258 CE) was one of the most influential bishops and theologians of early Christianity, whose writings on ecclesiology, martyrdom, and the nature of the Church shaped Latin Christian thought for centuries. Born in Roman North Africa, likely to a wealthy pagan family, Cyprian converted to Christianity around 246 CE and rose rapidly to become Bishop of Carthage within two years. His episcopate was defined by crisis: he led his community through the Decian and Valerian persecutions, navigating fierce debates over how to treat Christians who had lapsed under imperial pressure. His treatises—among them On the Unity of the Church , On the Lapsed , On Mortality , and On Works and Almsgiving —combined pastoral urgency with theological precision, establishing principles of communal discipline, sacramental life, and episcopal authority that would echo through Western Christianity. He was martyred in 258 CE under the Emperor Valerian, becoming one of the most venerated figures in the early Church. Cyprian’s theological legacy is most vivid where it touches the question of human transformation. His conviction that Christ assumed the fullness of human nature so that humanity might ascend to share in the divine—captured in the axiom that what humanity is, Christ was willing to become, so that humanity might become what Christ is—places him in the ancient tradition of theosis, the teaching that the divine-human gap is not a fixed boundary but a trajectory of becoming. This vision of participation in the divine life, grounded in incarnation and sustained by community, finds deep resonance with the Mormon transhumanist intuition that human potential is genuinely open-ended, that the relationship between humanity and God is one of shared nature and increasing likeness rather than infinite ontological distance. Cyprian did not frame this hope in technological terms, but his insistence that moral transformation, communal practice, and the grace of Christ collaborate in making humanity more than it currently is speaks across centuries to anyone who takes seriously the possibility that the divine future of the human person is real, not merely symbolic.

David Elieser Deutsch (born 1953) is a British-Israeli physicist at the University of Oxford, widely regarded as one of the founding fathers of quantum computation. A Fellow of the Royal Society, Deutsch has profoundly shaped our understanding of the physical world and the nature of reality itself. Deutsch earned his PhD from the University of Oxford and has spent much of his career at the Clarendon Laboratory. In 1985, he published a landmark paper describing the first universal quantum computer, demonstrating that a quantum mechanical system could simulate any physical process—a breakthrough that launched the field of quantum computing. He further contributed to the development of the Deutsch-Jozsa algorithm, one of the earliest demonstrations of quantum computational advantage. His intellectual framework draws heavily on the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics championed by Hugh Everett. Beyond his technical contributions, Deutsch is renowned as a public intellectual and author. His books The Fabric of Reality (1997) and The Beginning of Infinity (2011) weave together quantum physics, epistemology, the theory of computation, and the theory of evolution into a unified worldview. In The Beginning of Infinity , he argues that problems are soluble through the creation of knowledge, and that there is no fundamental limit to human progress—a deeply optimistic vision of unbounded human potential. Deutsch’s philosophy resonates with transhumanist themes central to the Mormon Transhumanist Association’s mission. His conviction that human beings are not cosmically insignificant but are instead “universal explainers” capable of unlimited understanding and transformation of reality echoes theological ideas of theosis and humanity’s divine potential. His insistence that the reach of human knowledge and creativity is genuinely infinite offers a scientific and philosophical foundation for hope in humanity’s capacity to transcend current limitations.