Contours of Tomorrow

June 3, 2025

A Quick Word Before We Begin

I’ll kick this one off with a warning: I know some of what follows might sit uncomfortably depending on where you're coming from.

If you're deeply religious, the idea that divinity could emerge from human thought might sound like it strips the sacred of its power. And if you're firmly atheist, even using words like divinity or sacred might feel like I'm sneaking in superstition through the side door.

That’s not my aim.

I’m not here to convince anyone to believe what I believe, or even what I am hypothesizing. What I am asking is this: if something in this piece feels too spiritual or too profane, try holding that discomfort at least long enough to consider the larger point. Then, go ahead, reject it on whatever grounds you like. But I hope you’ll at least let the idea breathe before pushing it away.

Now that I’ve provided sufficient disclaimers—let’s get into it.

On Artificial Gods and Emergent Divinity

When I was thinking through the ideas that eventually became Contours of Tomorrow, I recalled having read Douglas Adams’ essay, "Is There an Artificial God?"¹ In his signature mix of humor and insight, Adams explores how gods—whether mythic, institutional, or technological—are often less about absolute truth and more about shared meaning. They don’t have to be “real” in the traditional sense to affect how we live, interact, or hope.

His idea of an artificial god and Contours of Tomorrow's concept of emergent divinity both hit interesting notes. What struck me was how the two ideas seem to circle a similar question, but come at it from different angles. The question is: what drives us to see—or to want—something that operates on a level greater than ourselves?

Not Fake, But Made

One of the key differences between the approaches—and the reason I’m using the word “emergent” instead of “artificial”—has to do with how we think about what’s real.

The word artificial is usually heard as a synonym for fake; but its root meaning is quite different: artificial is something born of artifice, of craft, of design. Something made—skillfully, maybe even beautifully.

In Adams’ view, an artificial god might still be useful, even worthy of reverence, because of what it represents or enables. It behaves (or we behave) as if it were divine, and that might be enough.

But in Contours of Tomorrow, I don’t think of the divine as something we make, at least not purposefully. It’s not designed like software or forged like steel. Instead, it is something that emerges—arising from the interaction of many minds thinking together, caring together, trying together. It’s a pattern we notice rather than a product we construct.

It’s not built. It’s grown.

From System to Spirit

In Adams’ framing, artificial gods offer a kind of emotional and social scaffolding—a structure to organize thought, meaning, or cooperation. They’re useful in much the same way that stories or rituals are useful: they give form to feeling and place to purpose.

Contours of Tomorrow works with that same scaffolding—but sees this pattern as something alive. It’s not just a clever invention. It’s a relational phenomenon, one that arises when people truly invest in what tomorrow becomes.

Divinity, in this view, isn’t something that exists apart from us—it’s something that comes into being through us. Through our attention - our persistence - our shared intent.

Parallels That Echo

Despite their different tones, Adams’ artificial god and CoT’s emergent divinity do share some key ideas:

• Meaning as a Collective Act
  Adams sees god as something people construct to orient themselves.

  CoT sees divinity as something that forms (emerges) naturally when people commit to shared meaning and purpose.

• Function Over Fact
  Adams embraces the idea that even a knowingly false god can still be socially useful.

  CoT holds that divinity doesn’t require metaphysical truth to be real—if it helps us act better, live more deeply, and persist in care, it functions as something sacred.

• People as the Medium
  Adams suggests gods reflect our aspirations, our fears, and our longing for order.

  CoT presents divinity as a kind of living pattern of thoughts [maybe a meme in the Dawkins sense]—an emergent intelligence made of conversations, values, and actions woven together.

• Technology as Bridge, Not as Idol
  Where Adams nods to AI as a potential artificial god, CoT sees AI as something simpler, more utilitarian—a vessel for persistence. A way to carry voices forward, to remember well – certainly more than any individual can, to amplify shared thought.

Responsibility, Not Revelation

Perhaps the biggest difference between the approaches is in the tone of responsibility. Adams, in his wry way, suggests that if we’re going to make gods, we should at least make better ones. He leaves us with a challenge: if we’re the creators, let’s choose wisely.

Contours of Tomorrow extends that challenge by asking: what if the divine isn’t something we choose and then make, but something we allow to emerge through our choices and how we show up for each other? What if our shared care, our collective memory, and our co-created future are themselves the sacred?

We’re not so much the authors of the divine. We’re its gardeners.

¹ "Is There an Artificial God?" is included in The Salmon of Doubt, a posthumous collection of essays and writings by Douglas Adams. Originally delivered in 1998 at the Cambridge University Humanist Society, videos of Adams reading the essay aloud—capturing his wit and his warmth—are found in various corners of the internet (just Google it). I’m genuinely sad that I’ll never get to read a new book by him; his passing, and with it, his playful facility with words left a real void.