Sacrifice: Isaac’s Willingness and Peter Thiel’s Twist

In the traditional telling of Abraham and Isaac’s story, Abraham is the protagonist, the father proving his faith. But venture capitalist and thinker Peter Thiel offers a provocative twist: consider the sacrifice from Isaac’s perspective.

As Jordan Peterson recounts in a discussion with Thiel, Isaac’s role demonstrates “childlike faith”. He trusted that somehow this would work out, that his father or God would provide an alternative.

And indeed, at the last moment, Isaac was spared. Thiel draws a contrast: Abraham’s sacrifice was to give up his son. Isaac’s sacrifice was to trust his father and God completely, essentially sacrificing his own life in trust.

While Isaac did not ultimately die, he had to be willing to. In that sense, Isaac “was the one who made the sacrifice,” as Thiel reportedly framed it. What does this perspective teach us?

One insight is about the nature of faith and sacrifice: sometimes the greatest sacrifice is not a physical offering, but an internal one. The sacrifice of one’s fear, the surrender of one’s will.

Isaac carrying the wood up the mountain is often seen as a foreshadowing of Christ carrying the cross shows a kind of serene willingness.

According to some interpretations, Isaac could have resisted. He was a youth, Abraham was over 100, he could likely have run or fought. But he did not. He laid himself on the altar at least that is how later religious commentary paints it.

If so, Isaac’s submission was a sacrificial act of courage and obedience parallel to Abraham’s. Thiel’s interest in this might be tied to a broader point about how Judaism and Christianity pivot away from human sacrifice.

Isaac’s faith that God is loving and would provide an alternate outcome point to a conception of God not as capricious and bloodthirsty as many pagan deities demanding literal sacrifice were, but as just and merciful. And indeed, God intervened.

From Isaac’s standpoint, the ordeal was likely terrifying. Imagine the confusion and then dawning realisation when his father bound him. Isaac’s last question “Where is the lamb?” was answered in a gut-wrenching way.

Yet, if we see Isaac as a willing sacrifice, he had to overcome that terror and choose trust. That choice is itself a form of self-sacrifice: sacrificing the instinct for self-preservation on the altar of faith.

It resonates deeply with many subsequent narratives of martyrs or soldiers who march forward despite fear, trusting in a cause or leader. Isaac can be seen as an early martyr-like figure, albeit one who happily did not end up martyred.

Peter Thiel’s twist also accentuates the relational dynamic: Abraham loved God so much he would give his son. Isaac loved and trusted his father and God so much he lay down his life.

Both sides of the relationship involved sacrifice out of love and loyalty. This two-way devotion can be a model. In any cause or relationship worth its salt, all parties may have to sacrifice for each other.

A parent sacrifices for a child, but also a child, in simpler ways, sacrifices for a parent. Maybe giving up time to care for an aging parent or trusting a parent’s guidance over their own impulses.

Similarly, in a team or nation, leaders might sacrifice for their people and ask for sacrifices in return. Understanding Isaac’s role reminds us that those who “follow” or are under authority often exhibit tremendous courage in sacrifice as well, not just the leaders who make the tough decisions.

Thiel’s interpretation likely appealed to him because it upends expectations and highlights overlooked agency. We think of Isaac as a passive victim in the tale. Thiel reimagines him as an active participant of great faith, a hero in his own right.

This underscores a key concept: sacrifice is most powerful and noble when it is voluntary. Isaac’s sacrifice was meaningful because he was not just taken. He gave.

That is crucial when we talk about sacrifice generally: the moral weight lies in the willingness of the sacrificer. A person forced to lose something is not exactly “making a sacrifice” in the virtuous sense. They are a victim of loss.

But someone who willingly gives up something, comfort, wealth, even life for a higher purpose is truly sacrificing. Isaac, if willing, thus becomes a moral actor, not just a subject.

It aligns with the Christian view of Jesus’ sacrifice. He said, “No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (John 10:18). The volition transforms an execution into a sacrifice. Likewise, Isaac’s consent, implied in this twist, transforms a would-be child sacrifice into a profound act of faith on his part.

This perspective also changes how we see young people in narratives of sacrifice. Often youth are sacrificed by elders for causes like soldiers in war at the orders of generals.

Here, the elder was ready to sacrifice the youth, but the youth was sacrificing himself in trust. It is a poignant inversion: the one who “does not have power” demonstrates ultimate power over fear.

In many movements, it is the younger or seemingly weaker ones whose sacrificial bravery moves hearts. Think of young activists on hunger strikes or students facing tanks in protests. Their sacrifice, like Isaac’s possible mindset, carries a faith that their offering will awaken conscience or bring change.

In secular terms, we might take from Isaac’s twist the lesson of trusting those who’ve earned your trust, even when the ask is hard. Isaac clearly trusted Abraham due to a lifetime of love.

In our lives, if someone who has proven wise and caring asks us to sacrifice something or step into the unknown, perhaps we consider it seriously. For example, a mentor says, “Take the challenging job abroad, I know it is scary, but it will grow you,” a mentee might sacrifice the comfort of home in trust of that mentor’s wisdom. A small Isaac-like move. Or a community leader says, “We need everyone to tighten belts for the hard winter ahead,” and trusting them, the community sacrifices luxuries. These are everyday echoes of Isaac’s trusting sacrifice.

Thiel’s Isaac-centric twist enriches the concept of sacrifice by highlighting trust, willingness, and the unsung courage of the one seemingly powerless.

It underscores that in the great story of life, multiple sacrifices interplay: Abraham sacrificed having his son, Isaac sacrificed his very life impulse. Both were necessary to fulfil that test and both were rewarded.

Life was preserved, faith vindicated. So, in highlighting Isaac, we come to see sacrifice not only as a top-down command but as a personal, active choice to give oneself to something greater. That, arguably, is the essence of all meaningful sacrifice. It is the difference between being a pawn and being a hero. Isaac, often seen as the pawn, can thus be reclaimed as a hero of sacrifice in Thiel’s reading. A notion that can inspire each of us to face our own trials with similar bravery and trust in a higher purpose or love.