Man’s Obsession with Wanting God to Exist
The Necessary Precondition to Reason
Humanity has always been captivated by the idea of God; not merely as a word, but as a being who exists somewhere, somehow, within the universe. Across cultures, eras, and philosophies, people have tried to locate God inside existence: as a force, a ruler, a light, a person, or an energy. This impulse is ancient and deeply human. But beneath it lies a subtle confusion.
God is the objective object of the universe, the necessary constant that grounds all truth and coherence. God, then, cannot exist within existence. To exist is to be contingent, to stand within the system one is meant to ground. But what grounds existence cannot be one of its objects.
To make God “exist,” to place Him inside the set He anchors, creates a circular structure.
The ground becomes grounded by what it was supposed to cohere.
The judge becomes a witness within the trial.
The meter becomes one ruler among many.
Reason—objectivity, and with that, coherence—collapses under this circularity. If God existed as a being among beings, then existence would have no foundation outside itself, and truth would have no anchor beyond the shifting fabric of contingent forms. In such a universe, reason could not operate. There would be no secure object from which to measure coherence, and thus no way to distinguish truth from contradiction. If existence is being, and that which can be empirically proven, God does not exist, but instead what makes existence coherent.
So paradoxically, God must not exist; precisely so that existence and reason can.
God is not a character in the world; God is the necessary ground upon which the world can appear coherent at all.
This is not atheism.
It is the recognition that grounding cannot be grounded.
The reference point must remain transcendent, otherwise reference itself becomes impossible.
Yet humans continually try to make God present as a fellow participant, to drag the objective object into the realm of existence. And this longing reveals both our genius and our fragility. It shows how much we sense that coherence is necessary, and yet how much we fear its distance.
Instead of guarding the objective anchor as the condition for reason, we try to possess it; to depict, describe, localize, or embody it. We want God to be near, tangible, and manageable. We want God to exist.
This desire grows into entire systems of thought that attempt to narrate and negotiate God into existence. Even among “monotheistic” traditions, countless variations arise that cloud the recognition that the objective object of existence cannot, and must not, exist. Recognizing the necessity of the objective object at the level of existence is not narrative; it is the necessary axiom for reason to exist. Yet God, theologized, turns this logical precondition into narrative that tries to describe, contain, and assign preference, as if the ground of all being chooses certain portions of existence over others. But this personalization dissolves objectivity at its root. When examination of existence becomes filtered as stories of favoritism, coherence at first principles is obscured. Theology, which ought to safeguard alignment with the objective object, instead converts it into perspective, creating the illusion of understanding while eroding the foundation of reason. It is systematic dissonance.
When the transcendent is mistaken for a creature, a being, or an entity inside the universe, the mind becomes misaligned. It forfeits the very structure that grants reason. And without reason, we lose the only real power humans have.
Because reason is the real miracle.
It is the seed of every civilization, every science, every technology.
It unlocks the ability to discover, to build, to heal, to understand.
It transforms fragile animals into thinkers, creators; into near-limitless beings.
A human who reasons is, in a sense, superhuman.
Not because reason makes us divine, but because it allows us to participate, consciously, in the structure of truth. Reason aligns us with the objective object without collapsing that object into ourselves.
Yet history shows a consistent pattern:
When a human demonstrates extraordinary intelligence, discipline, or clarity—when they approach the power reason affords—societies elevate them to godhood. The extraordinarily reasonable human becomes the idol. The tool (reason) is forgotten. The source (the objective object) is obscured.
Instead of following the path they point toward for reason, we worship them.
We trade discipline for awe.
And awe, left alone, becomes stagnation.
The Enlightenment recognized this psychological vulnerability and actively leveraged it. It used the human tendency to revere brilliance to redirect the authority of reason toward cultural and institutional narratives. Thru that narrative, it celebrated reason while redefining it as a human acquisition; something discovered, owned, and administered. In doing so, it discourages inquiry into the existential grounding of reason itself. Objectivity is promoted as a tool for production and power, yet ignored at the level of being. People learn to generate facts without developing a backbone, capable of analysis, but cut off from the ground that makes truth coherent and humans self aware. This creates individuals who reason functionally but not foundationally, who are encouraged to trust systems rather than align with the necessary constant that makes reason possible. This ensures that the fundamental recognition, that the objective object is necessary for reason, is transformed into narrative and debate rather than preserved as a basic fact.
Over time, reason decays. What began with alignment to an objective reference point slowly dissolves into relativism. The standard is lost. People start arguing not about what is true, but about who gets to be right. The pursuit of coherence becomes a competition of narratives. The quest for truth becomes a quest for dominance.
But truth is not owned.
Truth is discovered through alignment.
No institution, tradition, or authority owns reason. But the fundamental recognition that the objective object is the necessary prerequisite for reason is not narrative, it is fact. Anything that exists can reason within the capacity of its being; from the simplest organism adapting to survive, to the human mind capable of abstraction and principle. Humans simply possess the highest capacity for reason, and this is the only thing keeping us at the top of the food chain. Reason is our only true advantage. Objectivity is the seed of reason, and the objective object—God—is the seed that makes objectivity, reason, and existence itself possible.
The further one’s inquiry extends, from self to society to cosmos, the more disciplined one must be to maintain objectivity. The larger the scope, the harder the climb. Just as the body strengthens through exercise, reason strengthens through continuous calibration. To wield objectivity requires practice.
This is why the objective object—God—cannot appear as something within existence.
Hypothetically, if God existed, He could be seen, measured, manipulated, worshiped as a being rather than understood as the condition for reason. The mind would confuse the anchor with an object in need of approval or belief. The pursuit of truth would collapse into mysticism, sentiment, and speculation. Empowerment would degrade into codependency. Instead of becoming reasonable, we would become enchanted—dazzled into intellectual paralysis.
In that paralysis, we would lose the very capacity that makes us human.
To protect reason, God must remain transcendent.
Not absent, but categorically beyond.
Not hidden, but foundational.
This is how reason becomes possible.
This is how truth becomes discoverable.
This is how coherence remains intact.
Humanity’s error is not in acknowledging the transcendent, but in refusing to let it remain transcendent. We keep trying to pull the ground into the structure, to turn the architect into a brick. We mistake nearness for possession. But the only proximity that matters is intellectual: the disciplined orientation of the mind toward coherence.
To seek truth is to align with what does not move.
Nothing that exists is God.
Nothing that begins, ends, or changes can serve as the objective object.
All existence is biased, contingent, shifting; and therefore cannot ground itself.
To confuse existing things with the source of reason is to abandon reason altogether.
The path to sanity, clarity, and truth is not belief in stories, or veneration of exceptional humans, but the lifelong exercise of reason; the effortful alignment of the mind with the objective object that does not exist, but without which nothing could.
In this alignment, humanity becomes what it was meant to be: not worshipers of power, but wielders of reason. Participants in truth rather than spectators of myth.
And so the task is simple, though never easy:
Guard the reference point to remain canon.
Exercise reason.
Let the transcendent remain transcendent.
Truth is not owned.
Truth is aligned with.
Reason is not granted.
Reason is exercised.
Human potential is not found in worshiping narratives, but in cultivating the discipline to align thought with the objective object, the reference point that does not exist within the scope, but without which reason could not be.
When we guard that reference, when we refuse to pull it into being, narrate it, weaponize it, or personalize it, we safeguard the only power that has ever lifted humanity:
the power to reason.
For only then can existence be intelligible,
and only then can we rise toward the superhuman threshold that reason alone invites us to cross.




Excellent article! Are you familiar with Iain McGilchrist and his two magnificent books: The Master And His Emissary and The Matter With Things?
Really enjoyed this. Your descriptions of God in this article reminded me a lot of Chapter 112 of the Qur’an.