
Brief Summary:
In this thought-provoking conversation, Stephen Fry and Jordan Peterson dive into the powerful intersection between myth, atheism, religion, drama, and the search for meaning in modern society. They explore how myth and narrative shape human experience, discuss the tension between rationalism and empiricism, grapple with the limits and values of religious traditions, and emphasize the enduring importance of story and ceremony—even in secular, skeptical times. Along the way, both thinkers reflect on personal responsibility, humility, the dangers of polarization, and what it means to live morally in a complex, often painful world.
The video opens with a brief mention of Jordan Peterson's then-new book, Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life, which sets the tone for the broader discussion on order, chaos, and meaning. Peterson introduces Stephen Fry, lauding his diverse achievements as an actor, writer, comedian, journalist, and public intellectual.
Peterson recounts their first meeting at the Munk Debates in Toronto, where they discussed political correctness. He notes Fry's reputation for engaging with prominent atheists like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, explaining:
"If you want to develop a quick inferiority complex, I would recommend going and reading Stephen's Wikipedia page."
Peterson's chief interest is to explore Fry's unique view of the relationship between narrative (stories, drama, myth) and empiricism/rationalism (fact-based or reason-based approaches to truth).
Fry expresses concern about the culture wars, observing how society has become tribal, pushing people into rigid "your friends or your enemy" camps and eroding common ground:
"There is your friends and your enemy, and no ground in between, no cohesion of viewpoint..."
He expresses hope that such open debates can help bridge divides, affirming:
"It's very easy to flatter the ego by having followers, but it's much harder to say 'No, you've misunderstood me, that's not what I meant at all.'"
A big chunk of the early discussion focuses on how extremes—on both the left and the right—endanger democratic societies and stifle dialogue. Peterson admits he has public notoriety for criticizing the radical left, but emphasizes he's also critical of excesses on the right and believes:
"The only people who can probably control the excesses of the radical left are people who are in the moderate left—not people on the right."
Fry reflects on his own political identity as a centrist or "soft liberal," sharing that both radicals on the left and right tend to despise moderation:
"Centrists were the boo word of the Corbynistas, the more socialist end of the Labour Party, a party I've been a member of since I could vote."
They both recognize that centrism lacks the drama and romance that attracts people to extreme positions:
"It's difficult to make centrism dramatic and romantic. It's much easier to make extremism dramatic and romantic."
Despite being proud of liberal democracy's achievements, Fry and Peterson agree that polarization, the temptation of simple answers, and intolerance towards moderates are serious dangers.
Here, Fry identifies himself more as an "empiricist" than a "rationalist," contrasting his worldview with that of Dawkins, whom he calls "a rationalist to the core":
"I think I'm an empiricist; that's part of my love of drama and myth and story… These are all to do with experience, with human experience, with testing an idea against what actually happens."
He illustrates this with the story of Ignaz Semmelweis, the physician who reduced maternal deaths by insisting on handwashing despite a lack of theoretical understanding. For Fry, empiricism is about "experimenting in the crucible of human activity and observing what people say and do."
He draws a parallel to literature and drama, arguing that stories and rituals teach us not through abstract reason but through concrete experience:
"We're all children who have to be shown puppets before we can be shown principles."
Peterson echoes Fry, observing that:
"There are truths embedded in fiction, in spectacle, ritual, and drama."
They agree that myth and story are not just entertainment; they contain practical, cultural, and psychological truths that pre-date formal science or philosophy.
Fry shares examples from Greek myth (the story of the Titans, Zeus's birth and the origin of magnetism through mythology), arguing that mythic stories encode observations about the world, human nature, and the mystery of existence. In Fry's view:
"Ceremony and ritual are extremely important in understanding everything… You don't have to be religious to believe in ritual. I love liturgy, I am absolutely passionate about hymns and psalms and the Eucharist."
They discuss how science evolved from mythic and ritualistic roots—a process where dreaming, storytelling, and repeated practice led to insights and motivation for inquiry.
Peterson, building on Jungian psychology, claims:
"Culture is nested inside a narrative structure by necessity. Even science is nested inside a narrative structure because the narrative is what makes the science practically applicable and useful."
He links this to the concept of sacrifice in religion:
"If we gave up something in the present that we valued, the future would improve. We learned that we could bargain with reality itself... Long before we could make it into a psychological truism, we acted it out."
Yet, Fry is equally quick to point out how myths can be dangerous or go awry, using human sacrifice rituals as an example of psychological needs gone too far:
"There is no causal relation between sacrificing children on a pyramid in Teotihuacan and the harvest improving. The more they were threatened, the more they sacrificed, and the less use it was."
Both recognize myth's double-edged nature—its ability to inspire meaning, but also justify horror.
A key emotional moment arrives when Fry repeats his famous response to the theological "problem of evil" (the existence of suffering, especially of innocents):
"You're face to face with God—bone cancer in children, what's that about? How dare you create a world where there is such misery that is not our fault? It is utterly evil!"
He clarifies that he's not personally bitter or obsessed with blaming God—he simply finds the notion of a benevolent creator incompatible with the presence of natural evil:
"It is very hard to square this loving God, who has knowledge of every hair on our head, with the fact that there is bone cancer in children... You could quite easily picture a universe in which there weren't such an animal."
Peterson listens thoughtfully and responds that resentment and anger, though understandable, are ultimately "counterproductive" and "make the problem worse." He suggests that:
"The amount of the world's evil that's a consequence of our voluntary moral insufficiencies is indeterminate… The role we have to play ethically is of paramount importance."
Fry, despite his skepticism about God and organized religion, deeply values the innate drive people have to be better:
"Most people are so good. Most people are so anxious to be good, have a sense of obligation, and drive in them to be better than they are."
This recognition of ordinary moral striving is a theme both men unite on, seeing it as proof that humans are both motivated and tormented by conscience, and always striving toward some higher form of existence, even if that higher form is difficult to define.
Do we need religion to be moral? Fry firmly believes that morality is not owned by religion:
"You can certainly have morality without religion—that is for sure."
He argues that both science and religion have had to constantly "redefine what God is," with religious doctrines shrinking over time as more is explained by science.
Yet, Peterson pushes back, wondering if there are "eternal verities" (enduring truths) in the moral sphere, such as:
Fry remains wary of claims to absolute truths, pointing out that even the meaning of "morality" has changed dramatically within living memory:
"Morality is a question of manners… The morality of our parents and grandparents was very different, just in living memory."
They circle back to the value of mythic language, story, and drama in teaching values across the generations—not by prescribing rules, but by serving as "portals to something really profound."
Peterson highlights that Fry's dual identity—as a humanist empiricist and as an artist—makes him unique among the so-called "horsemen" of atheism:
"You have got one foot in the rationalist, humanist, atheist, empiricist world, but there's the artist in you, too. And that domain, that second domain that you occupy, isn't formalized as well by the atheist community."
Fry uses the example of constitutional monarchy—comparing royalty's ceremonial value in the UK to the unifying potential of a mythical figure like Uncle Sam in the United States. Rituals, symbolism, and even "absurd" traditions possess enormous social power:
"There's something—and also empirically: look at the happiest countries in the world. They happen to be constitutional monarchies… It might have something to do with that."
He is clear-eyed about the flaws within religious history, especially regarding discrimination (as a gay man, he's felt this keenly), yet refuses to reject religion or myth wholesale:
"I don't believe that on Olympus Zeus lived there with his wife Hera. But I do believe Hermes and Hera and Zeus live within us."
The conversation concludes with Fry telling an Oscar Wilde parable that deftly captures the power of story:
"The devil walked one day in the Libyan desert and saw a monk tormented by demons... The demons couldn't tempt him, but the devil whispered: 'Your brother has been made bishop of Alexandria.' Instantly, the monk was undone by envy."
Fry explains why he loves such tales:
"If you want to say something and change minds… the way is to tell a story, a parable—that's how you bring people to a connection."
He closes by emphasizing, with warmth and hope:
"We care about these things… the value of story, and looking deeply into the nature of characters within stories—even though it's just a story, it might actually be a portal to something really profound that will touch you and change your life."
In this far-ranging, deeply human conversation, Stephen Fry and Jordan Peterson illuminate the continued power of myth, story, and ritual—even for non-believers—in shaping meaning, morality, and connection in modern life. They affirm the importance of dialogue between perspectives and the ongoing quest to balance skepticism with wonder, criticism with humility, and reason with the magic of narrative. As Fry beautifully puts it:
"To bond people to love, hope, and connection… the way is story."
🌟 If you want to change minds, teach, or heal—a story, wisely told, is always your best starting point.
Get instant summaries with Harvest