When the ultimate Truth governing society is accessible only to a privileged few, it becomes clear that the university, characterized by its exoteric and non-initiatory nature, cannot serve as the custodian of such knowledge.
In our previous discussion, we touched on the life of John Dee, the occultist credited with the mathematical insights that facilitated the establishment of the British Empire through navigation. Dee rose to prominence in mathematics largely due to reforms in British academia. These reforms, initiated first by the Erasmians and later by the Protestants, aimed to eliminate medieval influences from universities, resulting in the flourishing of Latin literary studies. This shift led England to become “of the humanities,” while Dee emerged as the leader of the exact sciences. Since Dee was largely self-taught and faced accusations of demon conjuring from the 1550s onward, many believed his knowledge stemmed from supernatural sources. It is even speculated that Christopher Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus was inspired by Dee.
What struck me as unusual about Dee is the scarcity of academic literature covering his scientific contributions or political plans. It was only through a declassified NSA document that I encountered a concise overview of Dee’s connections to the monarchy. Since 2011, thanks to “Transparency Case #6385J,” we have access to Leslie A. Rutledge’s article titled “John Dee: Advisor to Queen Elizabeth I,” wherein the author, himself an intelligence insider, draws parallels between his own role and Dee’s. Early in the article, Rutledge remarks:
“A leading intellectual of the moment, Paul Goodman [1911 – 1972], is fond of saying that we should return to the university as it was centuries ago-when experts lived in walled university towns and nurtured autonomous professionals, who occasionally sallied forth into the world to raise standards, advise governments, and castigate quackery and fraudulence. But does Goodman realize the extent of government sponsorship of academic scholars in those times? Consider the career of our man Dee. He was financed through sixty years of public service through government funds, yet he was accounted one of the most learned men in Europe in his time. He was offered many academic posts, and became in his seventies the Warden of Manchester College. He lived most of his life, not in a walled university town, but within a few miles of Windsor Castle.”
Rutledge praises Dee’s financial support and highlights the broad impact of his work. Though Dee remained largely unknown to the public, his influence was significant enough that newspapers searched for Welsh-speaking Native Americans because of him. Rutledge also equates the Queen’s secret service during Dee’s era to the modern CIA.
Secrecy extended beyond governmental affairs. Peter French, in John Dee: The World of an Elizabethan Magus, notes the prevalence of occult literary and musical secret societies during the Renaissance. The French had La Pléiade, founded by Jean-Antoine de Baïf (1532 – 1589), while England hosted the Areopagus, created by Sir Philip Sidney (1554 – 1586). Unlike the French circles, Dee’s English disciples lacked a notably famous secret society, so it remains unclear whether Areopagus was merely a casual network or a more structured group. French cautiously suggests that “John Dee was close to the powerful group of men who were largely responsible for the amazing renaissance in the arts and sciences that took place during Elizabeth’s reign. Since he was sought out by so many of the individuals promoting the
exciting developments of the English Renaissance and since these people listened respectfully to his views on many subjects, it is not unreasonable to assume that they also heard about his Hermetic philosophy.” Among these figures were Francis Bacon’s father, the Dudleys (the queen’s favorites, who studied under Dee), and the Sidneys.
Is there an English tradition of scientific secret societies? Evidence suggests so. Notably, less than two centuries later, the Lunar Society appeared, arguably playing a more vital role in English history than any university. In the mid-1700s, this group of intellectuals met on nights of the full moon to debate philosophy. Its roster included figures such as James Watt, Charles Darwin’s grandfather, Benjamin Franklin, and a range of industrial innovators who propelled the Industrial Revolution forward.
Since this exploration has taken a detour through the lens of Mr. Epstein, it’s worth mentioning Edge.Org—an atheist community funded by Epstein that included many scientists—which explicitly aims to emulate these secret or discreet academic circles. Their website explains: “Edge bears resemblance to the early seventeenth-century Invisible College, a precursor to the Royal Society. Its members consisted of scientists such as Robert Boyle, John Wallis, and Robert Hooke. The Society’s common theme was to acquire knowledge through experimental investigation. Another inspiration is The Lunar Society of Birmingham, an informal club of the leading cultural figures of the new industrial age—James Watt, Erasmus Darwin, Josiah Wedgwood, Joseph Priestley, and Benjamin Franklin.”
Overall, this historical panorama supports the idea that the university, an institution originating in medieval Catholicism, fits within a political order that is, like Catholicism, exoteric (not just exotic). In such a system, rulers serve as public authorities—akin to the Pope—and espouse doctrines openly accessible to all. Admission to a university depends on passing examinations, not on membership in secret societies or completing initiation rites that divide the initiated from ordinary people. Knowledge offered at universities is public, even if a peasant might not fully grasp Aristotelian explanations of transubstantiation. Authorities would not deceive but present simplified versions. A peasant’s child might become clergy and study Aristotle to deepen understanding of transubstantiation, and a layperson could home study this Church doctrine which is not hidden, unlike occult magic. In essence, the theological and metaphysical frameworks that shaped medieval society and spawned the university were publicly known, though not universally accessible.
Conversely, within esoteric societies (note the spelling), metaphysical and theological foundations are limited to an elite circle comparable to those with access to Epstein’s island or the Edge gatherings (which included Bill Gates, Marina Abramović, and Google founders). Even the financing of university endeavors can be a topic within these inner circles.
Contemporary universities profess no metaphysical or theological base. As has been repeatedly emphasized, they fail to provide a unifying understanding of “man” valid across fields, which explains why contradictory assertions like “women have penises” emerge in academic discourse.
When the ultimate guiding Truth of social order is restricted to a privileged few, it becomes apparent that the university—due to its exoteric and non-initiatory character—cannot hold this knowledge. Hence, today’s universities often function as mere instruments of student indebtedness or as hubs for political messaging. Only in societies where principles are publicly recognized can universities genuinely offer serious, in-depth knowledge to those who pass admissions.
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