In Benson’s prophetic vision, the Church persists amid a godless world obsessed with progress, pleasure and power.

In 2015, on a flight back to the Vatican from the Philippines, Pope Francis told journalists: “There is a book … it is called Lord of the World. The author is Benson … I suggest you read it. Reading it, you’ll understand well what I mean by ideological colonization.” He went on to describe the novel as prophetic, especially in regard to modern developments such as secularism, relativism and the notion of “progress” detached from any spiritual or moral anchor. 

The book in question — Lord of the World (1907) — is a dystopian, apocalyptic novel by English convert Father Robert Hugh Benson. It foresees a 21st-century world in which Christianity has largely declined while secular humanism — or “Humanitarianism” — has seized power, with political and cultural elites uniting around a charismatic global leader. The Church — and the papacy — survive, if only barely, and that is the crux of the clash at the heart of the plot. 

To say the least, it was an unusual choice for any pope to recommend. But Pope Francis reiterated his suggestion in a 2023 talk in Budapest, warning his audience from the academic and cultural world about a future dominated by technology — and the threat that poses to culture and, ultimately, to what it means to be human. 

Pope Francis’ predecessor, speaking as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, had also cited Lord of the World in a lecture in Milan in February 1992, calling it a work that “gives much food for thought.” And Francis’ successor, Pope Leo XIV, speaking in September 2023 as Cardinal Robert Prevost, likewise recommended Benson’s novel, saying it warns of what could happen to a world without faith.  

Perhaps we should not be surprised that so much attention has been given to this novel, since its plot centers on a besieged pontiff in an age when religion is under attack from technologically superior secular elites. 

The son of a former Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury, Benson converted to Catholicism on Sept. 11, 1903, at age 31. He had published several fictional works before Lord of the World, most of which were historical fiction. His 1907 novel was therefore a departure on many levels, and raises the question: Where did it come from? 

“By the end of the 19th century, apocalypse literature was experiencing something of a renaissance, mirroring the burgeoning genre of science fiction,” says author and commentator Kristen Van Uden Theriault. Speaking to the Register, she said she sees that period as producing dystopian literature largely written from a positive secular perspective, yet still offering prophetic warnings about the dangers of unbridled technological advancement, collectivism and totalitarianism. She cites two works that stand out for adding religious context to dystopian literature: Vladimir Soloviev’s 1900 allegorical Tale of the Antichrist and Benson’s Lord of the World. 

She also perceives an intriguing link between this genre and St. John Henry Newman. Newman, both a contemporary of Benson and a fellow high-profile convert from Anglicanism, had written extensively on the Antichrist, focusing mainly on the rise of erroneous ideologies that prepared the world for his arrival. 

“Benson and Newman both recognized the dangers of modern ideologies — namely communism, socialism and Modernism, but also Liberalism, which can be characterized as the temperate, slow-moving version of these more radical counterparts,” continued Theriault. 

At the center of Newman’s warning, she suggested, is “the tyranny of subjectivism”: the desire to confine religion to a matter of personal conscience rather than perceiving it as objective truth. She says Benson’s fictional system of Humanitarianism — a godless replacement for religion — “encapsulates the societal forces Newman warned of. The social order, which once resembled the hierarchy of heaven, now being made in the image of fallen man.” 

So, given that the novel is set in the 21st century, how prophetic does she find it today? Theriault sees it as being “prescient in many ways.” She points to Benson’s predictions of an international governing body — similar to the League of Nations and later the United Nations — and to institutionalized euthanasia, especially given the Canadian “Medical Assistance in Dying” law. 

“In a deeper sense, his depiction of a godless society led by pleasure, scientism and rejection of God reads like a description from our century. Life is cheap in Benson’s apocalyptic hellscape, as it is in our contemporary culture of death,” she adds. 

By the end of Benson’s novel, the Church may be but a remnant and the Antichrist seemingly triumphant. Yet Theriault believes the book’s message remains “that of all truly Catholic writing on the Antichrist: one of hope. Despite Antichrist’s devious scheming, we know who wins in the end.” 

As a novel that provokes theological debate, it works — but as a work of fiction, how does it stand up today? 

“By the beginning of the 20th century, dystopian, futuristic novels were a dime a dozen: a dark, depressing, ill-written pile,” observed novelist and scholar Eleanor Bourg Nicholson. Yet she finds Benson’s novel different. 

“Part speculative and part mystical, [it] stands out for two reasons: First, it presents real and vivid characters — believable and relatable men and women — not merely a proselytizing allegory; and second, because it boldly faces the dark, oppressive reality that the world must and will end, and sees that reality through the eyes of faith.” 

One of the great strengths of the speculative genre, she said, is its opportunity for readers to engage with deep moral questions. “What is man’s relationship with God? What is the purpose of religion? What is the purpose of man’s very existence? Life and death, salvation and damnation — they can be found at the heart of many such works, and they are certainly deep in the heart of Lord of the World.” Perhaps this alone accounts for its appeal to popes and prelates. 

Nicholson also senses a prophetic quality to the book, seeing many of its elements unfolding in modern life. “Benson conceives of the Antichrist as a pleasant, inoffensive politician, a charismatic figure promoting ‘peace’ — someone we can easily imagine garnering public appeal in our own time,” she observed. 

Speaking to the Register, author and editor Joseph Pearce likewise sees Benson as “a visionary,” noting that his unexpected novel paved the way for later works such as Huxley’s Brave New World and Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four.  

“Benson was ahead of his time — a pioneer, avant-garde in the true and fullest sense of the word,” Pearce said, adding, “The book was evidently very influential on the 20th century and would appear to be speaking as ominously to our own century. The endurance of relevance is one of the marks of a great book, and this is clearly a great book.” 

Benson did write, if not exactly a sequel, then a book with a similar theme but a wholly different perspective, Pearce noted. 

“It seems to be true that he wrote the subsequent futuristic novel, The Dawn of All, to provide a positive spin on the gloominess of Lord of the World. But I don’t think that the Apocalypse is gloomy from a Christian perspective. Insofar as the novel ends apocalyptically, it heralds the Second Coming promised by Scripture. 

“How is that anything but the happiest of endings?” 

This article was originally published by NCRegister.