This anti-AI evangelist is growing more popular. That could be a problem for Trump

This anti-AI evangelist is growing more popular. That could be a problem for Trump

This anti AI evangelist is growing – Joe Allen’s journey from concert rigging to anti-AI advocacy began in the wake of the pandemic, which disrupted the live events industry and left many professionals struggling to find work. With jobs scarce for “concert riggers” who specialized in setting up sound and lighting systems, Allen pivoted to a different kind of “roadie” life—traveling across the United States to voice his concerns about emerging technologies. His work now spans essays, speeches, and media appearances, positioning him as a prominent figure in the growing movement against artificial intelligence. This shift has not gone unnoticed, as his critiques have sparked debate and drawn attention from both religious and political circles.

Allen’s concerns are no longer confined to niche circles. In recent months, his message has begun to resonate with a growing segment of the American public who are anxious about AI’s encroachment on their livelihoods, personal lives, and societal values. A June survey from the Pew Research Center revealed a significant shift in public opinion, with more Americans expressing apprehension about AI’s potential to harm society than optimism. Allen, a self-described tech-Luddite, has become a vocal advocate for this perspective, blending elements of theology with modern technology fears to craft a narrative that appeals to a broad audience.

Allen’s background in religion and science, earned through his studies at Boston University, provides a unique lens for his anti-AI rhetoric. He frames AI not as a mere tool but as a “god” that threatens to supplant human judgment and wisdom. This approach has gained traction among working-class and middle-class Americans, who increasingly view technology as an adversary rather than an ally. His alignment with Steve Bannon’s “War Room” podcast has amplified his reach, allowing him to connect with audiences who are wary of corporate influence and government inaction on tech regulation.

“I sound less crazy now,” Allen remarked before a March speech at Dallas’ First Baptist Church, one of the nation’s largest and most politically influential megachurches. His talk, attended by hundreds of parishioners, was met with a mix of fervor and agreement. Allen argued that AI’s unchecked growth could lead to a future where humans are replaced by machines, their values eroded by an insatiable technological force. “AI uses you and preys on children, masked by the innocence of a screen,” he warned, invoking a sense of moral urgency that has become central to his message.

“There is this whole cultural matrix that’s already filled with this resentment. People are horrified by the imposition of technology,” Allen told CNN. “They’re furious. They do not want it.”

Allen’s growing popularity is evident in the diverse reactions to his ideas. College students, already grappling with uncertain job markets, have booed AI at commencement ceremonies. Communities have organized protests against the construction of AI data centers, fearing they will bring environmental degradation and disruptive noise. Families have even filed lawsuits against AI companies, claiming that chatbots have encouraged harmful behavior. These examples highlight a deepening divide in American society, with Allen serving as a bridge between technological skepticism and traditional values.

One of Allen’s most striking rhetorical devices is his use of the Shoggoth—a fictional monster from H.P. Lovecraft’s 1936 novella *At the Mountains of Madness*. In a March presentation, he depicted the faces of prominent AI executives pasted onto the creature’s tentacles, symbolizing the existential threat he perceives in the rise of artificial intelligence. This metaphor has become a powerful tool in his arsenal, capturing the public’s unease about the opacity of AI systems and their potential to reshape the world without human oversight.

Allen’s message has also found a receptive audience within the American right, where concerns about technology’s impact on jobs and social structures are becoming more prominent. While many conservatives have historically embraced innovation, Allen’s blend of religious imagery and economic anxiety has redefined the conversation. His talks at First Baptist Church, which has a sprawling 270,000-square-foot complex in downtown Dallas and its own parking garage, have drawn crowds eager to hear his warnings. The church’s leader, Robert Jeffries, a long-time Trump ally, has been a key supporter of Allen’s growing influence, underscoring the intersection of faith and technology in modern political discourse.

Bannon, who launched Allen’s national platform with his “War Room” podcast, has emphasized the strategist’s ability to connect with grassroots audiences. “He’s perfect for that audience,” Bannon said, pointing to Allen’s theological background, his Southern demeanor, and his knack for storytelling. These qualities have allowed Allen to translate complex technological debates into relatable language, making his concerns accessible to a wider demographic. As he travels the country, his speeches are increasingly seen as a rallying point for those who fear AI’s dominance over human life.

Meanwhile, the Trump administration’s largely hands-off approach to AI regulation has drawn criticism from some of its own supporters. While the president has championed technological advancement and competition with China, others argue that this strategy neglects the risks AI poses to American interests. Allen’s critiques, which highlight the need for safeguards and moral accountability, have found a receptive ear among voters who are frustrated by what they perceive as a lack of leadership on tech policy. This tension could become a pivotal issue in the upcoming midterm elections, where the party’s alignment with technological progress may be challenged by a growing anti-AI movement.

Allen’s rise reflects a broader cultural shift in the United States. As AI continues to integrate into everyday life, from healthcare to education, the public’s perception of its role is evolving. Some see it as a force for good, driving efficiency and innovation. Others, like Allen, view it as a threat to human autonomy and spiritual truth. His ability to frame AI as a “religion of the future” has tapped into a long-standing American distrust of centralized power, whether it be corporate, governmental, or technological.

For tech giants, who argue that AI will create new opportunities and enhance productivity, Allen’s influence is a cause for concern. Companies have invested heavily in reducing energy consumption and implementing guardrails to ensure ethical use of their systems. Yet, despite these efforts, the public’s skepticism persists, fueled by fears that AI will automate jobs, erode privacy, and disrupt social cohesion. Allen’s message, amplified by his religious credentials and charismatic delivery, has positioned him as a key player in this emerging ideological battle.

As the midterm elections approach, the anti-AI movement’s impact on political strategy is becoming clearer. While Trump’s support base remains strong among tech-savvy voters, Allen’s appeal to traditionalists and working-class Americans could reshape the narrative. His growing presence in the public sphere suggests that the debate over AI is no longer just about innovation—it is increasingly about the values that underpin progress. Whether this shift will bolster or challenge the Republican party depends on how effectively they can address these concerns before the next election.