Doja Cat’s ‘Demons’ exist, regardless of her belief.

In⁢ C.S. Lewis’ The Last Battle, the Calormene villain Rishda cynically worships and⁣ promotes the human-sacrifice god Tash for⁤ political⁢ gain ‍but doesn’t believe he is real. Eventually, ‍to Rishda’s horror and surprise, Tash shows up, seizes him, and is then banished from Narnia in the ​name ⁣of Aslan. ‌As ⁣he leaves, Tash ​takes with⁤ him the suddenly⁤ believing Rishda, who is most likely eaten.

This​ is somewhat⁢ of a recurring theme in⁢ Lewis’ fiction. Think⁣ of the N.I.C.E. scientists in That Hideous Strength, strict materialists‌ who think‍ that through⁢ their ​technology they have reanimated a severed⁢ head and created “god.” They worship the thing, which⁤ isn’t actually animated by their technology but by⁣ demonic forces, and eventually turn ⁢on one‍ another in a murderous ⁣spasm when the demon commands them, “Give me another head.”

Lewis’ point is that cynically dabbling in the demonic ⁢is no shield from the danger such dabbling ‌inevitably ⁤brings. That point came to mind Friday when I saw ‌a​ post on ⁢X, formerly Twitter, about Doja Cat’s music video for ​her latest single, “Demons.” The video features Christina ‌Ricci as a new homeowner who quickly discovers the place is haunted by a demonic, black-clad Doja Cat, replete ⁢with horns, sharp claws, spiked tail, and glowing⁤ red eyes.

Everything about the video, right down to the ⁣font of the title cards, exudes a self-consciously ironic, throwback‌ vibe. It’s not meant to be scary, exactly,‌ more‍ like a⁢ tongue-in-cheek indulgence in demonry ‍that⁤ mocks the “satanic panic” of the ‍‘80s and ‘90s⁤ and ​revels in satanic imagery. It’s not that much different ‌than what⁣ a chubby, horn-clad Sam Smith did at the ‍Grammy Awards earlier this year, or‍ Lil Nas X did in that video where he gave Satan a ‍lap dance before killing him and ⁣taking his‌ throne.

There’s a decades-long long history ‍of ⁣this sort ‌of thing in pop culture,⁤ of which these younger artists are likely well aware. ⁣What they’re ​doing isn’t new, and in our‍ post-Christian society it certainly isn’t ​transgressive — maybe it’s not meant to ​be.‌ The aim here is perhaps ‌not to shock, but to entice.

The comment I saw on X was from an anonymous account, @Antweegonus, who noted in reference to the Doja‍ Cat video that “overt celebration of the demonic can be understood‍ as evidence of a particular, predictable phenomenon​ that‌ takes place⁢ during late stage‌ decline.”​ Materialism, he says, can ​for a time be ‍used as a way to ⁤explain away and deny the reality of the spiritual world, ‍but in the⁤ end “strict ‍materialism is inevitably found‍ insufficient,‍ discarded, and replaced with a sinister neospiritualism.”

Lewis had a name for the kind of modern man who ⁤would embrace this sinister neospiritualism. He called him ‌the “materialist magician.” In his 1942‌ epistolatory novel The Screwtape Letters, the demon Screwtape addresses a ‌question from his nephew Wormwood about “whether it is essential to keep the patient in ignorance of your own​ existence.” The question, Screwtape says, “at least⁣ for the present phase of the struggle, has ​been ⁤answered for us by the High Command.”

Our policy,‍ for the moment, ‌is to conceal ourselves. Of course this ⁢has not always been so. We ⁤are really faced with a cruel dilemma. When the ‍humans disbelieve in our existence we ‌lose all the ‌pleasing results of direct terrorism and we make no magicians. On the⁤ other hand, ‌when they believe in⁢ us, we⁤ cannot make them materialists‌ and sceptics. ⁤At least,⁢ not ⁢yet. I have great‍ hopes ⁤that ⁢we shall learn in due time how to emotionalise and mythologise their science to such an ⁤extent that what‍ is, in effect, belief in us, (though not under​ that name) will creep ‍in while the human ‍mind⁣ remains closed to belief in the Enemy. The “Life Force,” the worship of sex, and‍ some aspects of Psychoanalysis, may here prove useful. ⁣If once we can produce our perfect work — the Materialist Magician, the man, not using, but veritably worshipping, what he vaguely calls “Forces” while denying the existence ‍of “spirits” — then the end ‌of the war⁢ will be in sight.

The goal here​ is ‌to produce a ‍man who is both a good materialist and also a good pagan. Lewis was of course on to something,‌ because this precisely describes our present moment,‍ when #WitchTok influencers hawk ‍potions and⁣ spells out of one side ⁣of their mouth ‍and spout off about ⁢the “science” of climate change and transgenderism out of the other. Indeed,‌ both‍ the transgender and climate change⁤ movements, among other leftist causes, ⁤are largely premised on an unstable admixture of materialist and spiritualist⁢ worldviews.

It’s not quite right, then, to chalk⁤ up all⁢ of this seeming demon-worship in pop culture to mere nihilism. ‍The materialist magicians of our time are gradually shedding their cynical, 20th-century materialism ​and embracing the notion of‌ a spiritual ‍realm that touches our physical one. As they do so, ‌they will⁣ become more overt about​ their ​belief in ⁣“force” while denying the existence of “spirits.” You can see manifestations of this worldview not just in ironic pop culture products like Doja Cat’s music​ video⁢ but among AI researchers, who increasingly talk about what they’re doing in theological or‍ spiritual terms — “creating ⁤god,” as former Google executive Mo Gawdat put it.

The danger here is that pure objective materialism‍ eventually collapses in on itself, and what emerges⁣ is what we’re seeing now all around us: a radical subjectivism that rejects all notions of right or wrong, good​ or bad, but ⁣is guided instead by mere appetite ‌and desire. To quote Lewis (again), “When all ⁤that‌ says ‘it is good’ has been debunked, what says ‘I want’ remains.”

That’s​ not just a recipe for‍ the⁢ ruin of our civilization, it heralds ‌a new pagan epoch in which an entire society of⁤ materialist magicians, like the scientists of N.I.C.E. or the grinning pop stars of today, ‍emotionalize ⁣and mythologize science and reason, largely unaware they ​are‍ actually in thrall to ⁤something much worse than their‌ appetites — something that, like ‌Tash, will eat them in the end.