On Religion: YouTuber Oliver Anthony Wrestles With ‘Dystopian AI Monster’
(ANALYSIS) It was a strange way for Oliver Anthony to mark the anniversary of the YouTube video that turned him into a country music roots phenomenon.
“Rich Men North of Richmond” launched on Aug. 8, 2023. When that date rolled around a year later, Hurricane Debby was sweeping through Virginia. The creeks were rising as Anthony headed into the woods with his dogs and his smartphone to record another emotional mini-sermon to his fans.
“By the Lord's will, you guys have really, truly changed my life forever,” he said, the rain dripping from his red hair and beard. “If I deleted all my social media accounts and I just wrote songs and uploaded them, and I hid out here in the woods for the rest of my life, just the interest off the money I've made already would at least buy my groceries and keep my family comfortable. ...
“That is the only financial goal I had. ... Just have my land and a house with a roof that doesn't leak, and a place that I can grow a garden and raise a few cows and sheep and be alive and try to live my life the way that my grandparents lived their lives.”
The blunt bottom line: “I despise this world, and I despise the way this world is headed.”
Anthony's pivotal YouTube video has been viewed 160 million times, not counting the many online copies and commentaries. Thus, the singer-songwriter has heard audiences around the world shout the sobering “Rich Men North of Richmond” chorus: “It's a damn shame what the world's gotten to / For people like me and people like you / Wish I could just wake up and it not be true / But it is, oh, it is / Livin’ in the new world / With an old soul.”
In the midst of the craziness, he sought out the acoustics in an old church in Savannah, Georgia, to record “Hymnal of a Troubled Man's Mind.” This independently released album opened with Anthony reading from Ecclesiastes, Chapter 5: “Whoever loves money never has enough. Whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless. Everyone comes naked from their mother's womb. And as everyone comes, so they depart.”
Anthony offered a familiar “mix of blue-collar, Christian imagery,” noted Melanie Davis in an American Songwriter essay. “A native to Appalachia, where ‘diseases of despair’ like drug overdose, suicide, and alcoholic liver disease are higher than anywhere else in the country, Anthony's voice rang true for a large sect of the working class. ...
“The album swings from the lamenting of an opioid addict to blue-collar worker woes. Anthony sprinkles Bible verses throughout the record, further appealing to the Christian masses. (The decision to release the album on Easter was not coincidental).”
Once again, many critics insisted that they heard political buzzwords, as opposed to commentary from a red state believer after fights with alcohol and depression.
In his latest YouTube message, Anthony described — with anger and humor — a crisis rooted in decades of cultural chaos, with zero references to partisan politics. He attacked social media algorithms, artificial intelligence, watered-down schools, Hollywood and trends in news and journalism.
Anthony said he has no desire for a Lamborghini sports car, a yacht or a Bahamas vacation home. Instead, he said he has invested in abandoned West Virginia farms. The goal is agrarian centers where “people can go and learn how to can food, can learn how to raise animals, people who have just gotten out of rehab, vets with PTSD, people who are depressed and suicidal. They can come here and get reconnected with nature. ... I hope that we can start going back to the old way.”
Anthony described the alternative in apocalyptic terms, with families crushed by a “dystopian AI monster.” It's hard to discuss what’s happening, he said, without veering into conspiracy theories and talking about the end of days.
The irony is that the singer’s ties to his fans are built on YouTube and social media. Anthony knows that.
“This ... dreamlike state that we're in ... Where does it end?” he asked, standing in the rain. “We're so distracted. We're so lost. ... We can't stop looking at these stupid phones.”
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Terry Mattingly is Senior Fellow on Communications and Culture at Saint Constantine College in Houston. He lives in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, and writes Rational Sheep, a Substack newsletter on faith and mass media.