What Even is a God?
Redefining a familiar word.
At first glance, the word god might seem like an abstract idea—something reserved for religion, mythology, or ancient culture. But in truth, we all carry functional gods in our minds: ideas or forces we look to for security, meaning, and ultimate reference. To understand what a god is, we must stop thinking about who people worship—and start thinking about what people are willing to organize their entire behavior around.
A god, in psychological terms, is the dominant force in your life that organizes your priorities, whether it claims to be divine or not. It is what you serve, what you fear, what you strive to appease, and what you believe gives your life significance.
Sometimes it’s a belief.
Sometimes it’s a system.
Sometimes it’s an outcome you chase or a role you’re trying to fill.
1. Dominance Is Everywhere—But Not All That Dominates Is a God
There are forces in life that dominate us by default—things we never consented to, yet we must submit to in order to survive.
Gravity pulls us down whether we like it or not.
Time moves forward without permission.
Death, decay, aging—none of these wait for belief to take hold.
We must cooperate with these forces—but cooperation does not mean worship.
The danger comes when we elevate survival into sacredness. When we begin to ascribe meaning to the thing that merely enforces consequence. When we shape our emotional world around dominance rather than truth.
Consider a tyrant, a boss, a trend, or even a social expectation. Just because something holds power doesn’t mean it deserves reverence. If we begin to treat power as purpose—then we’ve created a god out of a dog, a force that merely dominates but lacks true transcendence because itself is contingent.
A god is not just what has power over you—it’s what you give ultimate meaning to.
2. How We Mistake Dogs for Gods
In our desperation for order, it’s tempting to make anything dominant into something divine. Social movements, public opinion, institutions, money, even biology—these are real forces. But when we orient our values around them instead of navigating through them, we surrender something deeper: our autonomy.
We stop asking what is right, and instead ask what is popular, profitable, or safe.
When survival becomes the highest aim, we begin to worship the conditions that keep us alive, rather than the truth that helps us live well.
But here’s the problem: everything that exists within this system—no matter how powerful or persuasive—is just as vulnerable to existence as we are. It is contingent, dependent, and subject to the same decay, limits, and change that define all created things. So when we treat these things as absolute, we are building our foundations on what is, at its core, fragile.
This is the trap of the modern mind:
To confuse constraint with meaning,
To treat adaptation as truth,
To obey out of fear and call it freedom.
But if everything we follow is a result of force—then all we’ve done is bow to the nearest leash.
3. The Option to Stay Free: Recognize but Don’t Revere
We cannot escape gravity.
We cannot stop time.
We cannot undo our biology, or dismantle the social forces we were born into overnight.
But we can choose how we relate to these forces.
To stay free, we must recognize dominance without reverence.
We must respond to necessity without giving it authority over our values.
We must navigate constraint without turning it into commandment.
In short, we must honor what exists without worshiping what enslaves.
That is the only way to avoid turning survival into subjugation, and to avoid confusing what is with what should be.
4. A Real God Must Be Above What Already Exists
The reason we seek something beyond these forces is because true objectivity cannot come from within the system it’s meant to judge.
A real god—one worthy of organizing our behavior around—must be higher than dominance, untouched by self-interest, and free from the push and pull of cause and effect.
To build reverence toward such a true objective point of reference—one that is outside the universe and independent of any contingency, constant, and unbiased; meaning it does not shift with opinion, power, or perception—gives a person the clarity and confidence to oppose the continual onslaught of gaslighting that reality subjects us to.
This “higher reference” would not require worship because of threat or reward. It would deserve orientation because of its moral clarity, its impartial presence, and its ability to anchor truth regardless of circumstance.
In the presence of such a God, even the most dominant forces—like death, power, status, and fear—are put back in their place. They are no longer tyrants to appease, but features of a created world to navigate with wisdom.
5. Final Reflection: Don’t Let Survival Dictate Worship
The world is filled with power structures we can’t ignore. But if we worship them—if we confuse dominance with direction—we lose our internal compass.
We become creatures of reaction rather than intention.
We become loyal to what enforces, rather than what is true.
We shape our meaning around what keeps us alive, even if it slowly kills our mind.
The call, then, is simple but costly:
Don’t live for what you merely live under—especially since it’s just as fragile as you.
Key Takeaways:
Everything that exists is a proverbial dog—tethered, vulnerable, and at the mercy of others.
A god is whatever holds the highest authority in your life.
Many of the things we treat as gods are just competing forces—dogs in disguise.
Aligning with them compromises our sanity—our ability to recognize reality clearly and have strong judgement.
A true god must be impartial, independent, and outside the power games.
Who you obey under pressure reveals who your real god is—and shapes who you become.
While we will all end up obeying things we’re naturally subject to, it’s only when that obedience aligns with the natural order of reality that worship becomes objective.