Science as Salvation: A Modern Myth and Its Meaning (1992) is Midgley's most sustained analysis of how scientific rhetoric has absorbed the structure of religious promise — complete with eschatology, soteriology, and the narrative of redemption through specialized knowledge. The book traces how, as traditional religion receded from educated Western culture, the salvific impulse did not disappear but migrated into scientific discourse, producing a class of claims that use the vocabulary of science to make promises only religion had previously made: transcendence of embodiment, immortality, the fulfillment of all human longing, the elimination of suffering. Midgley was not hostile to either science or religion. She was hostile to the fraudulent hybrid — the impostor that uses scientific authority to make religious promises, and religious fervor to defend scientific claims.
There is a parallel reading that begins not with narrative structure but with material constraint. The salvific promises Midgley identified in AI discourse may indeed use religious vocabulary, but they arise from real technical trajectories that create genuine ruptures in social organization. The question is not whether these promises are fraudulent analogies to religion, but whether the infrastructure required to pursue them reorganizes human life regardless of whether the promises are kept.
Consider: the quest for AGI has already produced a computational substrate that mediates an increasing share of human activity. The theological language may be performance, but the data centers, the surveillance apparatus, the energy consumption, the planetary-scale information architecture — these are concrete. The salvific story attracts capital, but the capital then builds systems whose effects compound independently of whether anyone still believes the story. Midgley's critique assumes the danger lies in false consciousness — people mistaking a hybrid genre for something it's not. The deeper risk is that the material systems built under cover of that genre become load-bearing infrastructure for everything else, creating path dependencies that outlast the mythology. The Singularity may never arrive, but the civilization optimized in anticipation of it has already altered the terrain. The fraud is not that science is pretending to be religion; it's that critique of the pretense distracts from the concrete reorganization already underway.
The book emerged from Midgley's engagement with the AI research community of the 1980s and the physicists developing grand unified theories. She noticed that the language surrounding these projects had an unmistakable theological quality — promises of ultimate explanation, narratives of progress toward final truth, and visions of a transformed humanity liberated by technical achievement. In one review from 1984, she had compared an AI book by Donald Michie to a hymn book: 'They promise the human race a comprehensive miracle, a private providence, a mysterious saviour, a deliverer, a heaven, a guarantee of an endless happy future for the blessed who will put their faith in science and devoutly submit to it.'
The hymn-book line, delivered with characteristic wit, became one of Midgley's most quoted formulations. It names something structurally true about a certain genre of popular science writing — the genre that treats science not as a set of practices for investigating empirical reality but as a path to salvation. The Singularity narrative is the direct heir of this tradition: the prediction of a moment when technological progress produces a qualitative transformation of the human condition, analogous in every structural respect to the Second Coming.
The book is not a debunking exercise. Midgley respected science too much to treat it as a villain. Her argument is that the religious impulse — the longing for meaning, transcendence, and salvation — is a genuine human capacity that will find expression somewhere, and that when it gets smuggled into scientific discourse, it does damage both to science (which cannot deliver what religion promises) and to the religious impulse itself (which loses its honest expression when disguised as something else).
The contemporary AI discourse is the most prominent current instance of this dynamic. Artificial general intelligence, the Singularity, mind uploading, the elimination of biological limitation through technical transcendence — each of these is a secular theology, using the prestige of science to make promises only religion has traditionally made. Midgley's book is essentially a manual for recognizing this pattern and for asking the honest questions it obscures: What kind of promise is actually being made? What evidence would support it? What would it mean for the lives of ordinary people if the promise were honest?
Published by Routledge in 1992, the book drew on Midgley's engagements with the AI research community, with the physics community developing Theories of Everything, and with evolutionary biologists whose popular writing she had been critiquing since the Dawkins exchange. The book was well received by religious scholars, mixed in reception by scientists, and has grown in relevance as AI has replaced physics as the primary host of salvific discourse.
The salvific impulse persists. Religion's decline in educated Western culture did not eliminate the longing for transcendence — it relocated it.
Science has absorbed the impulse unsystematically. Popular science writing now carries religious structures without the theological vocabulary that would make them recognizable as such.
The hybrid is fraudulent. Science cannot deliver what religion promises, and religion disguised as science loses its honest expression.
The AI discourse is the paradigm case. The Singularity, AGI, mind uploading — each is a secular theology making religious promises in scientific vocabulary.
Midgley's analysis of AI discourse as secular theology is structurally accurate (100%) when the question is: what narrative form are these promises taking? The Singularity literature does use eschatological templates, does promise transcendence through specialized knowledge, does treat technology as a redemptive force. The pattern-matching is exact. This matters for understanding how AI claims recruit belief and organize intellectual communities.
But when the question shifts to: what are the actual mechanisms producing social transformation?, the weight changes. The material critique holds more force (70/30) because infrastructure compounds regardless of narrative. The data centers, the compute requirements, the energy grids, the capital concentration — these reshape possibility space whether or not anyone still believes the salvific story. Midgley's concern was honest expression versus fraudulent hybrid; the contrarian concern is that critique of expression misses the concrete.
The synthesis the topic itself suggests: treat the theological narrative and the material substrate as operating in different registers that reinforce each other but require separate analysis. The narrative attracts resources and legitimacy (this is where Midgley's critique bites). The resources then build systems with their own logic (this is where material analysis bites). Neither fully explains the other. The right frame is dual: the salvific story is a genre error that does real epistemic damage, and it also serves as cover for infrastructure development that reorganizes life regardless of whether the genre error is ever corrected. Both true, different timeframes, different remedies.