Jordan Peterson’s latest release, We Who Wrestle with God: Perceptions of the Divine (2024), is an unreadable mess of repetitive, rambling prose that defies reason. As someone who has previously criticized his writing as “bonkers,” I’m not sure I can offer a more fitting description this time. With each turn of the page, the reader is drawn deeper into a bewildering, almost nonsensical labyrinth of biblical allegory and cryptic philosophy that repels rather than enlightens. At times, the prose falters even at the level of the word itself, making this book almost impossible to engage with in a meaningful way.
Peterson, a former psychology professor, first gained widespread recognition with 12 Rules for Life, a self-help book that mixed tough love with evolutionary psychology. His sharp criticisms of progressive politics, coupled with his charismatic delivery, won him a legion of fans. Yet his latest effort—a sprawling, convoluted meditation on the books of Genesis and Exodus—suggests that the same mind capable of cutting through complex psychological ideas has lost the plot entirely. What was once a coherent voice of reason is now a rabid, wild-eyed tirade, one that wanders from idea to idea without a clear sense of direction. It’s almost as if Peterson is trying to outdo himself with increasingly bizarre and disconnected ideas.
A Dismal Allegory, Not Biblical Exegesis
We Who Wrestle with God is not a typical work of biblical exegesis. It barely engages with the historical or theological context of the Bible at all. In fact, it’s unclear whether Peterson even believes in God, or if he does, whether that belief is of any consequence to his analysis. Instead, the book revolves around the idea that the stories in the Bible are filled with “archetypes”—symbolic characters and motifs that convey eternal truths about existence. This is, of course, a familiar theme from his previous books, but here it’s taken to extremes.
Peterson claims that these archetypes repeat throughout Western culture, appearing not only in biblical stories but also in literature, films, and even cartoons. Take, for instance, the figure of Cain, the archetypal arrogant adversary from Genesis. According to Peterson, this character appears in various guises in literature and film: Milton’s Satan, Goethe’s Faust, Jafar from Aladdin, and even “Felonious Gru” from Despicable Me. While the connection between these characters might seem tenuous at best, Peterson makes no attempt to explain why or how these characters embody the same archetype. Instead, he seems to be throwing names at the wall, hoping something will stick. If you want to get lost in this kind of thinking, you’ll soon find that every children’s movie, every fantasy novel, every TV show, is somehow linked to the Bible through these eternal, cosmic archetypes.
Peterson’s Increasingly Bizarre Allegories
The real trouble with Peterson’s analysis is the sheer overreach of his allegorical interpretations. Everything, it seems, is connected. Even the most innocuous pop culture references are suddenly endowed with profound symbolic significance. Consider, for example, the Quidditch game in Harry Potter, which Peterson describes as a “manifestation of the spirit Mercurius,” a “psychopomp” that operates on the border between the human and divine. One might ask, what if it’s just a made-up game about wizards on broomsticks? But no—Peterson finds meaning in the most mundane details, leading the reader to feel like they are trapped in a web of wild ideas that have no grounding in reality.
This tendency toward symbolic paranoia is a hallmark of Peterson’s style in We Who Wrestle with God. Like a madman who hears coded messages in the clouds, he sees divine truths hidden in everything from fairy tales to popular movies. At times, it feels like Peterson is forcing these connections, treating every element of culture as part of some grand, cosmic conspiracy. The snitch in Harry Potter is not just a magic ball—it’s a symbol of the unconscious! Shoes, according to Peterson, represent class, purpose, role, and destiny. Smoke is essence, and rainbows symbolize the integration of diversity.
The problem, of course, is that none of this is grounded in any logical or interpretive system. Peterson’s analysis is purely subjective, driven by whim rather than any coherent philosophy. It’s as if he’s trying to convince the reader that the Bible means whatever he wants it to mean, regardless of context or historical reality.
The Madness of Archetypes
Perhaps the most disturbing element of Peterson’s new book is his suggestion that archetypes are not merely symbolic or metaphorical, but actual, living entities. He claims that ideas can be “more real than the facts,” suggesting that archetypes—these symbolic figures—are not only present in the collective unconscious, but may exist independently, as “living spirits.” To back this up, Peterson points to his earlier bizarre claim about the “biological reality” of dragons, as if mythical creatures and symbolic figures might somehow have a physical existence.
In this sense, Peterson’s ideas veer dangerously close to conspiracy theory. There is a sense that everything, every event, every story, is connected in some mystical, predetermined way. The world, it seems, is a giant web of symbols and archetypes, and Peterson is the only one who can see the pattern. As a result, his book becomes less a thoughtful meditation on biblical themes and more a rambling, incoherent screed against the very concept of rational thought.
The Takeaway: A Rabid, Unreadable Work
In the end, We Who Wrestle with God fails at almost every level. It’s a work that alienates its audience rather than invites them into meaningful reflection. Peterson’s rambling, hectoring prose may attract those who already buy into his worldview, but for anyone else, the book is a slog—one long, drawn-out, incoherent mess. The moments of insight are few and far between, and they are drowned out by the overwhelming absurdity of Peterson’s allegorical fantasies.
The book is unreadable not because it challenges the reader, but because it actively repels them. Peterson has lost his way, and it’s hard to imagine anyone, even his most devoted followers, being able to follow him through the desert of his increasingly deranged ideas.
