The Seven Fundamental Tenets read like a press conference trying to cosplay as a philosophy. That’s fine if you’re campaigning; it’s fatal if you’re building a spine. The quiet kill switch is right in the copy: elevate “spirit” over “word” and the rules become room fragrance. The sixth one even admits we’re all fallible—good. Then the seventh swings in like a smiling wrecking ball and turns the whole set into scented air.
“Every tenet is a guiding principle designed to inspire nobility in action and thought. The spirit of compassion, wisdom, and justice should always prevail over the written or spoken word.”
There it is—the kill switch. The text tells you the text doesn’t matter. The “spirit” outranks the “written or spoken word.” Philosophy replaced by vibes; ethics outsourced to whoever’s holding the mic and claiming moral weather patterns. If the words lose to the mood, then nothing binds and everything bends. That’s not Satanic. That’s PR with incense.
Watch what that clause does in the wild. Tenet 4 defends the freedom to offend. Good—truth has sharp edges. But if offense is deemed un-compassionate (and it always is by someone), the seventh tenet deputizes the mood to throttle the message. The spirit prevails over the spoken word; say goodnight to the brave little line about offense.
Tenet 5 bows to the best scientific understanding. Also good. Reality is not optional. But reality is unromantic and often rude. Data on biology, psychology, crime, cognition—pick your minefield—will eventually offend a cherished narrative. When that happens, Tenet 7 puts on its robes and announces that the spirit of justice should prevail over the written word—the paper, the results, the conclusion. It’s a soft weapon you can swing at anything dissonant: “We’re not ignoring evidence; we’re choosing compassion.” That’s how reality gets smudged until it fits the poster, and people clap for their own blindfolds.
Tenet 3 says one’s body is inviolable, subject to one’s own will alone. If you actually believe that, you accept the consequences of other people’s choices, even when their choices offend your narrative of the good. But once the seventh tenet enthrones a floating triad—compassion/wisdom/justice—above the words, individual sovereignty becomes conditional. All you need is a chorus chanting that compassion requires intervention, that justice requires intrusion, that wisdom requires prevention. When sovereignty bows to committee vibes, it was never sovereignty; it was a permission slip.
And notice the architecture of control hidden in that happy language. Who defines the spirit? Who decides what “compassion” demands today, what “justice” justifies tomorrow, and what counts as “wisdom” next week? Not the individual. Not the evidence. The interpreter with the loudest halo gets to pull the override lever. The seventh tenet is a priesthood clause written in secular ink. It centralizes power in the people who can narrate the spirit most persuasively. That’s not Satanism with teeth; that’s moral bureaucracy with a devilish logo.
Slippery? Absolutely. Conveniently so. If every tenet is merely “guiding,” you never have to violate them—you only need to reinterpret the spirit retroactively. Broke the free-speech bit? No, no, we honored the spirit. Ignored the evidence? Not at all, we elevated justice. Trimmed bodily autonomy? We centered compassion. Unfalsifiable ethics are catnip for institutions because you can never pin them to the wall. They float, they glow, they excuse. Meanwhile, the individual—this stubborn, sovereign beast at the heart of any real Satanism—gets turned into a prop for the next announcement.
Here’s the plain alternative, carved in bone instead of foam. Start with ownership of the self. Not because a spirit waves a wand, but because you are the only one who lives inside your skull and pays the bill for your choices. Responsibility follows—not as a PR apology when optics go south, but as a covenant with reality: you did the thing, you own the wake. Reason governs claims about the world. If the data hit a nerve, you ice the nerve, not the data. In social life, you use contracts: ask, agree, set boundaries, keep receipts. Compassion? Powerful when chosen—sterile when imposed. Justice? Define it in terms you’ll accept when you’re the villain in someone else’s story. Wisdom? Earned, not invoked.
And yes, compassion matters. But compassion is a virtue of individuals, not a cudgel for committees. It comes from a person deciding, “I will bear a cost for your good,” not from a board deciding, “You will bear a cost for our optics.” The seventh tenet reverses that polarity. It says the spirit can override the word. That’s a blank check for the well-intentioned to become the heavy.
Let’s imagine the collisions the tenets will never advertise. A satirist publishes a savage critique that offends nearly everyone. Tenet 4 should protect it; Tenet 7 kills it with a kiss: compassion prevails, remove the speech. A researcher publishes uncomfortable findings that violate a popular moral storyline. Tenet 5 should demand we update our beliefs; Tenet 7 smothers the paper under a weighted blanket labeled justice. A consenting adult pursues a high-risk lifestyle that disgusts the local moral committee. Tenet 3 should lock the door; Tenet 7 leaves it ajar for “wise” intervention. In each case, the same trick: when the words stand in the way, invoke the spirit and walk through them.
Some will argue I’m reading too literally, that “spirit over word” was meant to guard against legalism. I get it; I’ve seen enough brittle dogmas to understand the instinct. But when your fix for legalism is “feelings beat words,” you’ve traded a map with hard edges for a weather forecast—and you’ve put your ethics at the mercy of whoever claims to read the sky. Satanism, the kind with steel in it, prefers the map and the courage to live with the consequences.
If you truly want a living ethic, don’t write yourself an escape hatch. Write yourself a mirror. Can this principle be violated? Can someone prove I crossed the line by the line itself? If not, you’ve built a theater set, not a structure. The Seven read bold until the seventh whispers, “It’s just a set.” That’s why the thesis shatters. Not because compassion, wisdom, and justice are bad—because they’re too important to be left undefined and enthroned above everything else.
Here’s where I plant the flag: I want an ethic that holds when I’m unpopular, when my data bruise feelings, when my choices disgust the mob, and when my apology isn’t enough for the optics department. I want an ethic that can call me wrong without needing a séance to consult the spirit. I want an ethic that respects my neighbor’s freedom to be offensively, empirically, gloriously themselves, as long as consent and contract are kept. That’s Satanic enough for me—self-ownership, responsibility, reason—chosen compassion, defined justice, hard-won wisdom. Embrace who you are—without committees. Live your best possible life—by your choices and their costs. Conquer your perceived world—by facing reality, not editing it to flatter the brand. That’s how you make sure no one gets to pull a quiet kill switch on your life..
— Appendix (verbatim) —
The Seven Fundamental Tenets (source: The Satanic Temple)
One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason.
The struggle for justice is an ongoing and necessary pursuit that should prevail over laws and institutions.
One’s body is inviolable, subject to one’s own will alone.
The freedoms of others should be respected, including the freedom to offend. To willfully and unjustly encroach upon the freedoms of another is to forgo one's own.
Beliefs should conform to one's best scientific understanding of the world. One should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit one's beliefs.
People are fallible. If one makes a mistake, one should do one's best to rectify it and resolve any harm that might have been caused.
Every tenet is a guiding principle designed to inspire nobility in action and thought. The spirit of compassion, wisdom, and justice should always prevail over the written or spoken word.
Sources / Further Reading
• The Satanic Temple. “The Seven Fundamental Tenets.” (web) — Official text; verify wording and context for Tenet Seven’s “spirit over word” clause.
• Church of Satan. “The Nine Satanic Statements.” (web) — Lineage contrast: unapologetic individualism you can measure against TST’s mood-based override.
• Anton LaVey, The Satanic Bible. New York: Avon, 1969. — Baseline for atheistic, individual-sovereignty Satanism; useful to test whether TST’s Tenet Seven aligns with or dilutes that spine.
• John Stuart Mill, On Liberty. London: John W. Parker & Son, 1859. — The classic defense of free expression and harm principle; sharp lens for the 4-vs-7 collision (speech rights vs “compassion” veto).
• Isaiah Berlin, “Two Concepts of Liberty,” in Four Essays on Liberty. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1969. — Explains negative vs. positive liberty; helps diagnose when “justice/compassion” becomes a pretext to override autonomy.
• Karl Popper, The Open Society and Its Enemies. London: Routledge, 1945. — Autopsy of unfalsifiable doctrines; maps neatly onto Tenet Seven’s escape hatch that makes violations impossible to prove.
• F. A. Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1960. — Rule-of-law vs. discretionary “spirit” rule; why predictable principles beat committee halos.
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