Jordan Peterson’s recent appearance on Jubilee’s viral YouTube debate wasn’t just another skirmish in the culture war between belief and unbelief. It revealed something deeper and more unsettling: the ongoing drama of a man caught between archetype and Incarnation, between myth and metaphysical truth. The event was less about the 20 atheists who challenged him and more about the unresolved questions that have long surrounded Peterson’s theology or lack thereof.
For years, observers have speculated: Is Peterson inching toward Christianity, or is he crafting a symbolic system and even inventing a mythic religion of his own? The Jubilee debate threw that tension into sharp relief. What unfolded wasn’t so much a theological dialogue but perhaps more a public unraveling. The spectacle laid bare the limits of symbolic Christianity and raised a question that’s been simmering for nearly a decade: Can a man live as though Christianity were true without ever affirming that it is?
I’ll delve deep into the Jubilee debate not just as a cultural moment but as a revealing chapter in Peterson’s ongoing spiritual ambiguity. This essay explores his now-notorious theological hesitation, the well-meaning generosity of some Christian philosophers, and the quiet toll of refusing to cross the line into genuine faith.
The Long Road of Ambiguity
Jordan Peterson has long stood, as I noted in earlier reflections, as a paradoxical figure in contemporary religious, cultural, political, and philosophical discourse. From his first book, Maps of Meaning, which explored the deep structures of belief, to televised debates on God and morality, for close to two decades Peterson has occupied a public role wrestling with meaning. But while his psychological insights are often compelling, his metaphysical commitments remain elusive.
Peterson consistently stops short of theological affirmation. His notion of the sacred is grounded in evolutionary utility and symbolic resonance not in divine revelation. As I argued elsewhere, the real question is not whether God is a necessary archetype but whether He has spoken and has revealed Himself in human history, most decisively in Jesus Christ. Until Peterson engages this question directly, he will remain suspended between symbol and sacrament, between Logos as archetype and Logos incarnate.
These concerns are not new for me. In my 2018 article “The Peterson–Craig Encounter: A Missed Opportunity?,” I recognized Peterson’s cultural importance and psychological acumen, but I also warned of a deep tension in his thought. Although affirming moral objectivity and rejecting relativism, Peterson does so inconsistently, lacking a clear referential grounding—that is, God—thus demonstrating the inadequacy of a naturalistic and pragmatic framework. He admitted a kind of Platonic realm and even referred to the transcendent as “irrational.” I called attention to his conflation of methodological with metaphysical naturalism; his epistemological confusion between pragmatic and objective truth; and his evasions when it came to the existence of God, the historicity of Jesus and the Resurrection, and the coherence of Christian belief. Though he rescued many from nihilism, I concluded that his philosophical vision was not equipped to defend Christian theism.
The Jubilee Format: Hostile Parade
The Jubilee debate was billed as a clash between Peterson and 20 atheists. Like the earlier episode “1 Atheist vs. 25 Christians,” which featured Alex O’Connor (Cosmic Skeptic), the format placed a single participant in the center, surrounded by rotating interlocutors. But while O’Connor’s debate was structured and relatively measured in tone, Peterson’s debate was far more adversarial and emotionally charged.
The most viral moment was not philosophical but emotional:
“You’re really quite something, aren’t you?” Peterson snapped.
“Aren’t I?” Danny replied. “But you’re really quite nothing, aren’t you? You’re not a Christian.”
This line reverberated across social media, spawning headlines and memes. For many, it exposed what they saw as Peterson’s bluff. For others, it symbolized an existential wound for both believers and nonbelievers.
Interpreting the Moment: Between Charity and Critique
Some Christian thinkers attempted to steelman Peterson’s approach. Trent Dougherty, in conversation with Cameron Bertuzzi of Capturing Christianity, suggested that Peterson’s claim, “everyone worships something,” could be framed as powerful evidence for theism within a Bayesian framework. If humans are universally religious, then theism better explains this data than atheism.
Christian philosopher William Lane Craig, in dialogue with Sean McDowell, also offered a more pastoral reading. He proposed that Peterson’s evasiveness might stem from being a “baby Christian,” someone in the early stages of belief. He cautioned against harsh judgment: “We don’t know his heart…but he’s certainly evasive—and I think that’s deliberate.”
Craig speculated that Peterson’s ambiguity is strategic: “If I were his publicity agent, I’d say be as evasive as you can. That evokes the mystery, promotes the controversy.” But Craig also invoked Luke 12:8-9, warning of the danger for professing Christians in denying Christ before others.
Generous though they are, such interpretations only serve to illuminate the core dilemma: the uneasy coexistence of archetype and the Incarnation, where symbolic truths, though not false, become theologically hollow when severed from the concrete reality of divine revelation.
Theological Evasiveness and Linguistic Obfuscation
As I clearly indicated in my 2024 essay “Why We Should Be Cautious of Jordan Peterson,” his theological evasiveness is not new. When asked whether he believes in God or affirms Christ, Peterson typically shifts into symbolic language:
- God becomes “the highest value.”
- Belief becomes “what we live out.”
- Conscience becomes God.
This strategy often functions more as conceptual sleight of hand than serious theology. As Matthew Whiteley rightly observed in “The Sad Demise of Jordan Peterson,” such rhetorical shifts now appear more like obfuscation than insight.
When Peterson’s pragmatism is put to the test, particularly his claim to “live as though Christianity were true,” it collapses under the weight of Paul’s warning: if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile (1 Corinthians 15:17).
Peterson has cited Cardinal Newman to support his view that “God is conscience,” but this is a clear misreading. Newman never equated conscience with God Himself. Instead, he saw conscience as the echo of God’s voice—not its source, and certainly not God. Peterson psychologizes what Newman theologizes.
