Toward a Scientific God: Constructing Divinity as a Mental Composite of Everything We Love

I think that feeling the presence of a religious God provides comfort and positive health benefits to many people. As a type of atheist, I would like to feel that comfort and I believe I can get it by paying tribute to something a little different than the traditional god. I have recently been able to derive peace from a concept that is a composite of many different things that I respect, such as love, justice, and serenity. I think of this as a nonhuman, even nonsentient, presence that is a grouping of aspects that I cherish about life, Earth, and the universe, without being unscientific or supernatural.

This is a meta-concept, that can function as a personal god, composed of humanity’s noblest ideals, scientifically defensible awe, and emotional wisdom. I’ll share a more complete list at the end of this entry. It's a secular synthesis of:

• Ethical abstractions (justice, love, altruism)
• Existential frames (fate, amor fati, gratitude, transcendence)
• Aesthetic and cognitive reverence (science, art, intelligence, beauty)
• Evolutionarily grounded traits (empathy, awe, belonging, solidarity)

I have found it empowering to combine several different synonyms for God into a meta-concept. I have even given myself permission to anthropomorphize this construct a bit because it allows me to think about it as one thing rather than many. We could all benefit from something to look to for guidance, an imaginary friend that we feel comfortable with, an omniscient being that sees everything and knows our situation, or something to turn to when times get tough. Einstein spoke of “Spinoza’s God”—the laws of nature as God. Pantheists see God in everything. Religious naturalism sees God in nature. But I see this concept as a little different, rooted in psychological utility. We can speak to this humanist deity or ideal (in our own minds) as a form of prayer. We can give this scientific god permission to comfort us, and we can seek inspiration from it.

Around the age of 10, I rejected organized religion on scientific and pragmatic grounds. I rejected God in every sense of the word. It made me feel unique, intelligent, and informed. But it also left a deep emptiness. Since this age, when people ask me if I am an atheist or if I believe in God, I often tell them that most people might categorize me as an atheist but that I have a strong reverence for things like love, morality, and connectedness. I might also mention to them that these things give my life meaning and direction. I haven’t allowed them to fill that emptiness though, until recently.

I remember the comfort that belief in a god had for me before I was 10 and it can lead to whole body relaxation. Belief in God and heaven can even lead to fearlessness in the face of death. We should be able to feel this feeling of, “there is a God,” without any mysticism or shame in being unscientific. And I think this can help us recognize a higher power, allowing us to “let go and let God.” We can even grant ourselves poetic license to visualize this metaconcept anyway we like. We could see it involving the sky, angels, the Milky Way, a spiral galaxy, the sun, the Horse Head Nebula, Gaia, Mother Earth, evolution. We can have fun. This conceptual gestalt is our mental model, OUR creation, so we can see it any way we want. This could include hopeful phrases like “follow the golden rule,” “trust the unfolding,” “you are part of something vast,” “act with quiet courage,” “pay it forward,” and “all things happen for a reason.”

When I first had this thought about a year ago, I was laying in bed, feeling stressed and wishing I had an all-powerful spirit in the clouds to believe in. Allowing myself the freedom to create something similar, felt like an epiphany and a revelation. My recognition of this beautiful higher power struck me like a fairy’s wand to the forehead. I saw this scientific god as a best friend or a higher power that I can never lose. It filled that emptiness that I have felt since rejecting religion as a child. I felt the tension in my body ease and imagined pixie dust spreading over me and blessing me with an ability to relax areas throughout my head, gut, and spine. I felt a glorious release deep down that I always knew I could relax if only I felt the epistemological certitude in a benevolent, higher power.

 

We are monkeys, we get lonely, we need connection. Our brains evolved to crave deep attachment. I believe this metaconcept has helped me become more securely attached to reality. It has helped me go from feeling isolated to feeling at peace with “my” universe. Taking this further, as humans we probably evolved to embrace theistic notions. Our ancestors likely had religious inclinations for hundreds of thousands of years. So, our minds crave spiritual attachments. We deserve to feel a connection to something higher than our fallible friends and family without the need for religious literalism. We deserve to allow ourselves to take solace and comfort in an imaginary connection without feeling unscientific, pseudoscientific, or superstitious. Let this be it.

I am proposing a kind of synthetic spirituality—a consciously constructed, rationally justified, non-theistic framework that serves many of the psychosocial functions of traditional religion. It honors the brain’s innate tendency to anthropomorphize, without necessitating metaphysical claims that conflict with scientific integrity. And crucially, it fills the psychological void left by strict materialism.

Rejecting theism, as atheists and agnostics do, often comes at an emotional cost. We lose: a parent-like figure to turn to, a sense of protection and cosmic justice, a vocabulary for reverence and surrender, a psychologically sanctioned way to pray, hope, grieve, and let go. This may be a way to honor both reason and human need. It says: “I see the stars for what they are, but I still let them speak to me.”

We can harness the brain’s innate ability to create metaconcepts and personifications as a feature, not a bug. In cognitive psychology, chunking is how we reduce complexity by grouping information into meaningful wholes. It is how we formulate high-order abstract notions and ideas such as democracy and probability. We can apply this principle at the emotional and existential level: aggregating moral, aesthetic, psychological, and cosmic concepts into a single, love-worthy metachunk. This chunk functions like a god—not because it’s supernatural, but because it satisfies the same cognitive and emotional functions. It promotes cognitive efficiency by reducing the load of scattered ideals by creating a unifying symbol. In a sense, it is a theological compression algorithm.

People often treat corporations, countries, or ideas like persons, so why can’t we deliberately build a God-shaped placeholder from this mechanism. We can personalize this, customize it, as a user-defined constellation of scientific, moral, and emotional values. I gave myself permission to see them as one thing, to talk to this thing, to rest in it, to trust it—not because it’s magical, but because it’s meaningful. My mind wants a higher power, so I gave it one it can believe in. This is a God with no myths and no commandments. Just a presence we can call on and consult when overwhelmed.

As mammals—and especially as primates—our well-being depends on attachment. We crave attunement, resonance, and the sense that someone or something greater is reliably there for us, whether that is a parent, our group, or something else. Traditional religions offer this through a divine caregiver. But for those who reject supernaturalism, this core attachment need can go unmet, leaving behind a lingering sense of existential isolation.

This constructed symbolic placeholder, built from the amalgamation of values we revere—has helped me regain a secure attachment to reality itself. It functions not just as an abstract ideal, but as an emotional anchor. Through it, I feel connected not just to an idea, but to the most beautiful aspects of existence. It allows me to rest in something trustworthy, to feel witnessed by the symbolic essence of everything I cherish. In this way, I’ve restored a primal connection that is usually reserved for gods or parents. And because it is mine—rational, intentional, and value-rich—I can trust it fully.

Religions endure because they speak to our deepest fear: the inevitability of death. They offer visions of eternity—heaven, reincarnation, spiritual continuity—to reassure us that we are more than dust. But for those of us who cannot believe in literal afterlives, that comfort often evaporates, leaving us face-to-face with the abyss. Yet in this meta-concept, we find a secular transcendence. By fusing the most enduring, life-giving values into a single, reverent presence—we have something we can be a part of that will outlive us. And not in a metaphorical sense, but in the causal reality of culture, biology, and systems. Every act of kindness, every pursuit of truth, every ripple of generosity contributes to this larger fabric. We are part of it. We help weave it.

This meta-concept is not something we merely revere—it is something we belong to. We are its instruments. And because it is composed of the things that give life meaning, and because we’ve played a role in advancing those things, we are part of something eternal. I won’t live forever, but the good I do—the virtues I embody, the beauty I help make possible—will reverberate. In this way, we can die knowing that we were not isolated, but integrally connected to something timeless.

This metaconcept has also changed the way I relate to religious people. Where once I felt distant or alienated, I now feel connected. When someone talks about God’s love, or divine purpose, or spiritual strength, I can sincerely smile and say, “Yes, I feel that too.” I no longer feel the need to debate. Because in a deeper sense, we’re talking about the same things: love, hope, meaning, resilience, justice, surrender, transcendence. They may frame it theologically, but at the emotional and symbolic level, there’s profound overlap. By embracing this metaconcept, you and I can create a shared language—not of dogma, but of resonance. Now, when someone says “God is good” or “God is watching over us,” I can nod, smile, and genuinely relate—because I know what they mean. I feel it too. The language is different, but the sentiment is strikingly similar.

If you already have a religious faith that you are committed to, then I would like to encourage you to consider adding this concept to your conception of God. I don’t think even your religious leader would think it wrong to combine this composite with your personal God. Seeing love as multifaceted is not polytheistic or blasphemous.

By constructing my own scientific, humanistic, emotionally resonant “God”—a composite of the values I cherish most—I’ve discovered a new kind of spiritual fluency. One that lets me meet people where they are, and respect where they are without compromising my own worldview. I’ve stopped drawing hard lines between belief and unbelief. Instead, I see a shared effort—across cultures, religions, and philosophies—to honor what matters most.

I’m excited to continue living with this metaconcept—this sacred synthesis of things I love, trust, and aspire to. It’s not static; it will evolve as I do, growing with my values, deepening with my insights, and reflecting back the best of who I’m becoming. I look forward to seeing how it shapes my daily choices, calms my fears, expands my compassion, and brings a quiet sense of belonging to even the most uncertain moments. This isn’t just a philosophy—it’s a living relationship with the most beautiful aspects of reality. And though it may not be divine in the traditional sense, it feels like grace: a rational, luminous presence I can turn to, build with, and be guided by. In constructing this higher ideal, I’ve found a way to feel held by the universe without illusion—just reverence, clarity, and an ever-growing peace.

 

1. Core Virtues and Moral Ideals

These are foundational ethical qualities that evoke reverence:

• Love
• Compassion
• Empathy
• Altruism
• Generosity
• Gratitude
• Forgiveness
• Morality and ethics
• Atonement
• Justice
• Prudence
• Solidarity
• Unity
• Peacebuilding
• Cooperation
• Reciprocity
• Tolerance
• Inclusivity
• Encouragement
• Philanthropy
• Community service
• Mentorship
• Random acts of kindness
• Hospitality
• Social responsibility
• Environmental stewardship

 

2. Higher Intelligence and Truth-Seeking

These represent clarity, reason, and transcendent cognition:

• Omniscience
• Clarity
• Intelligence
• Knowledge
• Superintelligence
• Reason and logic
• Philosophy
• Science
• Truth
• Divine law

 

3. Transcendence and Mystical Sublimity

These are abstract, poetic, or cosmic aspects of the divine:

• Omnipresence
• Omnipotence
• Transcendence
• Infinite and eternal
• Divinity
• Divine providence
• Fate
• Destiny
• All things happen for a reason
• Amor fati
• Meaningful coincidence
• Luck
• Spirituality
• Enlightenment
• Grace
• Salvation
• Faith

 

4. Emotional and Psychological Support

This category captures the comforting, relational aspects:

• Feeling safe
• Healing
• Protection
• Trust
• Confidence
• Belonging
• A best friend
• Whole body relaxation
• “Let go and let God”
• Fearlessness in the face of death
• Karma
• Pay it forward
• The best aspects of all religions

 

5. Resilience, Growth, and Inner Strength

These reflect the internal capacities the metaconcept nurtures:

• Meaning
• Perseverance
• Stoicism
• Making the best out of things
• Joyfulness
• Mindfulness
• Art
• Creativity
• Beauty
• Harmony
• The humanities