Sometimes it pays to go behind a piece of writing to conduct a genealogy of the writer himself or herself, rather than to dive into the writing itself. On May 25, 2026, the fourteenth Pope Leo of the Roman Catholic Church spoke at the Vatican on his first “social” encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas (magnificent humanity), which he had signed ten days earlier. An encyclical is known as a teaching (magisterium) instrument used by the papacy to communicate the Church’s position on a topic. In presenting his encyclical, the pope “described the current technological revolution as an ‘epochal turning point’ comparable to the upheaval confronted by Pope Leo XIII during the industrial Revolution.”[1] That pope’s emphasis on the ethical dimension of an economy, especially with regard to inequality and the related marginalization, was the reason why Robert Prevost chose the name Leo when he accepted the vote in favor of him becoming the next pope after Francis, another social-justice-oriented pope. Lions may indeed come late in the summer, or, sadly, not at all (for even willful, bullying Leos can actually be cowardly, as in Oz), but Leo XIV was already charging voraciously ahead in May, consummating his nomenclature-rationale in words that ensconced his Church firmly in the twenty-first century (in utter contrast to Joe Ratzinger’s antiquarian corrupt administration). All of the media buzz aside, however, if the previous Pope Leo (XIII) actually had had little or no normative influence on what would be harsh (even child!) labor conditions later in the first half of the twentieth century in Europe and North America, then a clear-eyed observer in 2026 could already be skeptical as to the practical significance of Magnifica Humanitas on managers and programmers in Silicon Valley going forward. Moreover, the foray of religion onto AI technology, and even ethics, the latter of which is distinct from albeit related to religion, can be criticized as an instance of dogmatic over-reaching.
Already, U.S. President Trump had dismissed that pope’s disavowal of war in the context of the U.S. and Israel bombing Iran, saying that that pope knew nothing about foreign policy (and thus should have kept his mouth shut). The same could be said of the pope’s (or any religious cleric’s) knowledge of AI. Even though applied ethics is one of my academic fields, for example, I have not written on medical ethics because I do not have a bachelor’s degree (i.e., the MD) from a school of medicine; instead, I have written on political ethics because historical political theory is one of my doctoral fields, on business ethics because I have the MBA (and BS) degree, and on philosophy (and ethics) of religion because I have graduate degrees in religious studies and theology. Having taken only one course in computer programming in college, I assiduously avoid getting “into the weeds” in applying historical ethical theories to AI, for overreaching into any domain beyond a person’s ken would render one susceptible to the hypertrophy of one’s own ideological opinion primped up as knowledge, or worse, truth.
Moreover, the pope unwittingly
opened himself up to the charge of having overstepped the domain of religion by
pontificating on AI ethics. Implying that the human-God relation, which
transcends even existentialism, somehow translates into a particular ethical
stance on something as secular as computer technology is arguably dogmatic
in the sense of being arbitrary. In the thirst to be relevant on every contemporary
issue, a religious functionary can easily lose sight of the big picture, and
even his own ring.
It is significant that Pope Francis chastised bishops in the U.S. for their obsession on two social issues, as if religious faith were an ideological prejudice. The opportunity cost of such a normative orientation lies in the distinctly theological alternative focus on soteriology (and Christology). In the Gospels, Jesus is silent on abortion and homosexuality, so it is strange (at best) that some Roman Catholic bishops have made those issues definitive for church memberships being in good standing (e.g., receiving the Eucharist).
What is the soteriology
of AI? Even were AI computers sentient (i.e., self-aware, as to themselves as
entities, and with their own motives that involve beliefs and even feelings), what
would that have to do with a human being’s salvation before God? That there are
threats facing us in our lives in this world is just part of the human
condition, even biologically. Even were war and poverty eliminated by enlightened
public governance, soteriology would remain as an issue as long as an abyss
separates us from God. Put another way, even were there no threats to us in
life, it would still be difficult to follow in Christ’s footsteps in responding
compassionately even (and especially!) to people we detest. A cowardly lion
would have utter disdain for such “weakness,” and would thus remain adamant in
refusing to forgive. But as Esther, Ben Hur’s eventual love-interest, remarks
in the film, Ben-Hur (1959),
when Ben Hur tells her of his thirst for revenge against Messala, a young rabbi
has been preaching, “forgiveness is greater, and love is more powerful than
hatred.” The opposite of love is not hate, but, rather, indifference, so the seemingly
solid fortification of hatred can indeed be dissipated if there is the will,
and love. Even without the threat of AI, letting go of one’s hatred as well as
the default assumption that making the first move at reconciliation is humiliating
rather than a manifestation of strength is difficult.
Although Nietzsche claims that
forgetfulness in place of memory is essential in forgiving other people, I
submit that even forgetting what a past argument was about is not sufficient
for a person to overcome the instinctual assumption and habit of avoidance once
that is well-grooved. A few months before writing this essay, I made the first
move in restoring a friendship, and having forgotten what we had argued about
two years earlier was not sufficient for me to use free-will to stop when
passing him to say hello, to which he reciprocated, which led to subsequent socializing.
We both subsequently related this to the forgiveness, and the related “peace be
with you,” which are so very salient in the Gospels. Interestingly, the
experience itself of reproachment led me to consider the guy a long-standing,
good friend to whom I could open up about myself even though he and I had not
been on speaking terms since arguing about who-knows-what.
In this essay winding up here,
have you noticed that I have not analyzed, pro or con, the pope’s teachings on
AI? Besides, I am not competent to pontificate on computer technology—which I
both enjoy and am frustrated by (the compound, uneasy feeling of which may be
what prompts exogenous pontificating on AI by some), and I am probably going to
hell anyway to be devoured by angry lions for having criticized a pope Leo who
pounced on a reticent Silicon Valley in May. Lions don’t come in late summer in
California, after all.
1, Linda Bordoni, “Pope Leo Presents ‘Magnifica Humanitas’ Calling for Disarmament of AI,” Vatican News, 25 May, 2026.
