"You're On Your Own": The Tech-Bro Gospel vs. Biblical Community

In a recent interview, Palantir CEO Alex Karp offered this bit of wisdom: "You are largely on your own. The more you recognize that, the better."

It's the kind of statement that sounds profound at a TED conference. Self-reliant. Clear-eyed. No illusions.

It's also profoundly lonely.

And as Christians, we should recognize it for what it is: a competing gospel—one that directly contradicts the story Scripture tells about what it means to be human.

The Myth of the Self-Made Soul

Silicon Valley has always had a complicated relationship with community. The mythology celebrates the lone genius in the garage, the dropout who didn't need school, the founder who trusted no one but himself.

There's something appealing about this narrative. It flatters our pride. It suggests that success comes to those who need no one.

But here's the thing about garages: even Steve Jobs had Wozniak. Even the myth has a partner.

The "you're on your own" philosophy isn't wisdom—it's a coping mechanism dressed up as insight. When you build surveillance systems that track millions of people, perhaps emotional distance becomes necessary. When your algorithms help identify targets in war zones, maybe radical individualism helps you sleep at night.

But Christians are called to a different way of being human.

Created for Connection

Scripture tells a different origin story. In Genesis 2, God looks at Adam—the only human, living in paradise, walking with God himself—and says something remarkable: "It is not good for the man to be alone" (Genesis 2:18).

Not good. In a perfect garden. With God present. Still not good to be alone.

This isn't about marriage (though it includes that). It's about the fundamental architecture of human existence. We are designed for interdependence. Wired for relationship. Created for community.

The "you're on your own" gospel gets human nature exactly backward.

The Body Needs Its Parts

Paul understood this. Writing to the Corinthians—a church with plenty of people who thought they didn't need anyone else—he offers an almost comedic image:

"The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don't need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don't need you!'" (1 Corinthians 12:21)

Picture it: an eyeball trying to pick up a coffee cup. A head attempting to walk somewhere without feet. It's absurd. Paul knows it's absurd. That's the point.

The self-sufficient Christian is as ridiculous as a disembodied eye rolling around claiming independence.

And yet we live in a culture that celebrates exactly this kind of absurdity—the person who needs no one, trusts no one, depends on no one.

Bearing One Another's Burdens

"Carry each other's burdens," Paul writes, "and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2).

Notice: this isn't optional programming for Christians who happen to enjoy community. It's how we fulfill the law of Christ. Burden-bearing is the curriculum, not an elective.

The tech-bro gospel says: carry your own burdens. Don't be weak. Don't need people.

The actual Gospel says: you were never meant to carry it alone. Needing others isn't weakness—it's design.

The early church took this seriously. "All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need" (Acts 2:44-45).

This wasn't socialism or capitalism. It was family. It was the recognition that my brother's need is my concern, and my abundance is his resource.

When One Part Suffers

Here's where it gets uncomfortable: "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it" (1 Corinthians 12:26).

Radical individualism protects us from this. If I'm on my own, your suffering isn't my problem. Your joy isn't my celebration. I can scroll past your pain and curate my feed for positivity.

But Christian community doesn't allow that distance. We're connected—actually connected—in ways that make your grief my grief and your victory my victory.

This is inefficient. It's emotionally expensive. It's the opposite of the clean, optimized life that technology promises.

It's also the only way humans actually flourish.

The Loneliness Epidemic

Here's an irony worth noting: we're more connected than ever and lonelier than ever. The U.S. Surgeon General has declared loneliness a public health epidemic. Studies link isolation to increased mortality, depression, and cognitive decline.

We have more "friends" than any generation in history. We've never been more alone.

Maybe the tech-bro gospel isn't working.

Maybe "you're on your own" is descriptive of our cultural moment but not prescriptive for human thriving.

Maybe the ancient Christian vision of interdependence—bearing burdens, sharing resources, suffering and rejoicing together—isn't outdated religious sentiment but the actual user manual for being human.

A Different Way

So what do we do with this?

First, we name it. The radical individualism of our culture is a philosophy—a set of beliefs about human nature that competes with Christian teaching. We don't have to absorb it unconsciously.

Second, we practice the alternative. Christian community isn't a program; it's a habit. It's the choice to show up, again and again, for people who will sometimes disappoint us—because that's what family does.

Third, we extend it. The "you're on your own" mentality justifies all kinds of social neglect. Why care for the poor? They're on their own. Why welcome the immigrant? They're on their own. Why visit the prisoner? You guessed it.

Christian community isn't a gated subdivision. It's an expanding table.

The God Who Wasn't Alone

One final thought: even God isn't alone.

Father, Son, and Spirit—eternally in relationship. Community at the very heart of ultimate reality.

When we build lives of radical individualism, we're not becoming more divine. We're becoming less human.

When Alex Karp says "you are largely on your own," he may be describing how things feel in a competitive, surveillance-saturated world.

But feelings aren't always facts. And the fact is: you were made for more.

You were made for us.

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Sources & References

• Fortune — Alex Karp on Leadership at DealBook Summit 2025
• Barna Group — AI and the Church
• Christianity Today — "An Image of God for an Era of AI"

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up." — Ecclesiastes 4:9-10