Changing Lanes: An Execution to Be Televised Prompts a Papal Statement

Although Pope Francis amended Catholic social ethics to exclude the death penalty rather than continue to accept the punishment in cases in which no other punishment is practical or available, Pope Leo decided in October, 2026 to make a public statement of his Church’s opposition to the death penalty in reaction to the decision of the Trump administration to televise an upcoming execution live on television. That a woman had recently survived execution attempts by two lethal injections may have primed the pope’s pump, as it were. The danger is that the foray into applied ethics by leaders of a religious organization could conflate ethics and theology. That the latter transcends, and may even violate ethical principles, can easily be forgotten when a religious leader speaks out a lot on ethical issues. In the case of Pope Leo’s statement on capital punishment, a distinctly theological rationale can be found, and, I submit, should have received more emphasis, lest the religious leader be reduced to an ethical critic, or conscience. To be sure, in 2026, the world was very much in need of a public conscience, especially because Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was still underway, as was Israel’s genocide in Gaza and wanton violence in the West Bank—all of this aggression was being done with obvious impunity.

Tennessee, a member of the U.S., attempted to execute Debra Johnson with two doses of pentobarbital on September 30, 2026. “At one point she was on a ventilator and her attorney did not expect her to survive. However, they said Pike woke up and began walking with assistance.”[1] This quoted passage from the media makes her recovery seem like a miracle. If it was, perhaps the distinctly Christian deity, which is selfless love (agape), saved Pike’s life out of opposition to the death penalty. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord comes from the Old Testament. In the New Testament, the deity is epitomized by compassion especially for one’s detractors and even enemies. Pray for those who persecute you, and respond to their human needs with acts of compassion. Neither prayer alone nor being compassion friends suffices. Forgiveness is implicit in being compassionate to someone like Pike, who in 1995 had beaten and stabbed one of her classmates. It is not as if she had gone a murder spree, mowing down many people with gunfire. If the botched execution could be considered to be cruel and unusual punishment, mercy in the form of a reprieve would be justified. After all, she had already spent 30 years in prison knowing that she would be executed—inflicting that expectation for three decades could also be considered as cruel.

On October 8, 2026, the U.S. announced “that the execution of Nidal Malik Hasan, convicted of killing 13 people at a military base at Fort Hood in Texas in 2009, would be livestreamed on 3 December.”[2] Hasan was an army psychiatrist when he “open fire with a handgun at a medical facility at Fort Hood on 5 November 2009 as soldiers waited for medical checks before deployment. He was shot by a police officer during his arrest and left partly paralyzed, and now uses a wheelchair.”[3] It would be interesting to determine whether he was resisting arrest when he was shot. If he was not, then the police employee should have been arrested and charged with attempted murder. As for Hasan, the United Nations’ office of the high commissioner for human rights warned after the Pentagon’s announcement of the public execution that broadcasting it would “breach the absolute prohibition of torture.”[4] Hillary Clinton, a former U.S. Secretary of State, characterized the televising of the disabled man’s execution as a “barbaric idea.”[5] Unlike Pike, Hasan murdered many people. Also unlike Pike, Hasan himself was shot and partially paralyzed, perhaps unjustly. Even so, airing the execution for the world to see could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. This question is political and jurisprudential, as well as ethical in nature; it is not in itself a religious question unless explicit reference to Hasan’s redemption is added.

In writing Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard makes the point that Abraham is both guilty of attempted murder and is faithful to the divine command to sacrifice his son. The negative jurisprudential and ethical claim is consistent with the positive attribution of faithfulness to the Yahweh—both are correct because they refer to different domains. The charge of attempted murder is valid legally and ethically, and the praise of Abraham obeying a divine command even to sacrifice Isaac is valid theologically. The validity of the theological claim is not invalidated by the unethical act of attempted murder. Theology transcends ethics. Were the Ten Commandments in Torah prior to Abraham, then attempted murder would have theological currency and the question would be: Does the commandment not to kill supersede the divine command to Abraham to murder Isaac? Moreover, how are we to navigate between two conflicting divine commands?

Not being Abraham, and with the Ten Commandments in scripture, both Tennessee and the U.S. faced both the ethical quandary of capital punishment and the divine, theological, decree not to kill. In responding to the debate on whether the U.S. should televise Hasan’s execution, Pope Leo reiterated on October 10, 2026, the World Day Against the Death Penalty, that capital punishment is “inadmissible.”[6] The American Midwestern pope claimed that the punishment is contrary to the inherent dignity of a human being. Human dignity is an ethical rather than a theological term, and thus is not useful from a distinctly theological standpoint. In other words, were the pope driving a car on a road, it could be said that he swerved into another lane; even though the two lanes are related, they not the same lane. Unfortunately, the pope did not use the car’s turning signal to indicate to other drivers that he was going from one lane to another. This analogy falls short, however, because the pope did not entirely leave his lane.

Although the pope wandered from his theological education in claiming in his written statement, “Effective systems of detention have been developed that protect citizens,” he stayed within his ken, and thus in the theological or religious domain, in adding that capital punishment deprives “those who are guilty of the possibility of redemption.”[7] This raises the question of whether a murderer on death row who has sought redemption could then, on religious grounds, be executed. The pope could have added that in the Ten Commandments, the commandment against killing other human beings prohibits capital punishment—that a murder carried out by a criminal does not justify yet another killing, even by a government. Two wrongs do not make a right is an ethical rather than a distinctly theological saying, and thus should not be used in a religious rationale against capital punishment. Rather than appealing to the dignity of a human being, the pope should have stuck with the theme of redemption and added the commandment against killing human beings. Rather than venture into the field of criminal justice as if he had been educated in that field of knowledge, he should have elaborated on redemption itself. It is admittedly very tempting to go beyond one’s ken to pontificate in other domains of knowledge and human experience. I will not hold this against the Pope, as he too is a native Midwesterner from northern Illinois (even though he serially sins by favoring the White Sox over the Chicago Cubs—or is his lapse merely unethical?).

In conclusion, unless an unethical act (or intent) is proscribed by a divine command or decree, or interferes with soteriology or another distinctly theological value, ethical analysis should be left to ethicists. Put another way, studying theology does not also earn a student the right to a diploma in ethics, which is a subfield of philosophy. To be sure, the two fields can be related, but this is not to say that knowledge in one constitutes knowledge in the other. Unlike theology, criminal justice and the ethics of conduct do not contain the element of religious transcendence, which, as Pseudo-Dionysius wrote, inherently extends beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and sensibility (emotions). Contrarily, to say that science still has unknowns is not to say that the empirical unknown lies inherently beyond our reach. Religious functionaries and leaders, to the extent that they are oriented existentially to the inherently beyond, and thus to interpreting other human domains of experience  in terms of the theological, radiate holiness by driving without swerving into other lanes in order to have more influence.

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1, “Christa Pike Is Discharged from a Hospital after Surviving Execution Attempt, Her Attorney Says,” APNews.com, October 10, 2026.
2, David Smith and Ariana Baio, “’Medieval’ and ‘Disturbing’: US Plan to Livestream Execution Elicits Global Condemnation,” The Guardian,  October 2026.
3. Ibid.
4 Ibid.
5, Ibid.
6, Fortunato Pinto, “Pope Leo Condemns Death Penalty, Vance Vows Not to Watch Hasan’s Execution Live,” Euronews.com, 10 October, 2026.
7. Ibid.

Pope Leo on the Ethical Dangers of AI

Speaking on his first “social” encyclical, Pope Leo said the Roman Catholic Church, whose membership stood at 1.6 billion embodied souls around the world, was “called to interpret ‘new things’ of the age in the light of the Gospel and the dignity of the human person.”[1] He was on terre firma from a distinctly religious standpoint in being anchored in the Gospel stories, which include direct and parabolic preachments by Jesus of Nazareth. Regarding the dignity of the human person, which pertains as much to a humanist as a theist, that basis is not distinctly religious and thus can occasion or permit wandering into other domains such that virtually any topic relevant to mankind could be roped in and even subjected to supervening religious criteria even over criteria native to the topic’s own domain!

To be sure, we should all be for the dignity of the human person, especially as regard dangers from the state. Even so, the utopian vision of humans living free from virtually any threat goes too far in denying the human condition, which is Fallen due to original sin from a Biblical standpoint. Just because some threat or danger exists to people prior to death does not in itself justify an overriding religious interpretation at the expense of the criteria of the domain in which the danger exists. To apply God to automobile safety, for example, would seem contrived and artificial at best. Instead, government regulators ought to be consulted.

Similarly, that the Pope “said he had heard ‘very troubling voices’ regarding autonomous weapons systems and algorithms capable of denying access to healthcare, employment or security based on unjust and prejudiced data” may be better handled by high government officials, regulators, and even ethicists rather than a religious functionary whose knowledge lies in theology.[2] The pope’s statement that words were necessary that are capable of “awakening consciences and indicating paths forward for humanity” best fits the field of ethics, which, although related to religion, is nonetheless distinct.[3] In other words, the pope’s diction belies his implicit claim that the domain of theology is most fitting for a critique of AI. Indeed, the pope even “said every great technological power must be accompanied by moral discernment and public accountability.”[4] Ethics and public policy, not theology. In stating that AI should be “freed from logics that turn it into an instrument of dominion, exclusion or death”—a statement, to be sure, that reasonable people embrace—defense policy under democratic auspices is the native domain, with applied ethics also being highly relevant so it is not simply a matter for immoral or amoral government officials.[5]

Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling correctly distinguishes the ethical from the theological in that they can conflict without either one being thereby invalidated. From the standpoint of ethics, Abraham is guilty of attempted murder of his son, Isaac, while from a theological standpoint, he is legitimately subject to a divine command to sacrifice his son. The proper place for a theologian lies with the latter, whereas an ethicist should be confined to the former; overreaching invalidates. So, by quoting Paul’s exhortation to “keep awake” (1 Thess 5:6), the pope committed a category mistake in substituting “humanity’s critical sense and moral vigilance” for being on guard for Jesus Christ’s Second Coming.[6] Overreaching onto ethics can come at the expense of distinctly religious content. Discussing “the biblical figure of Nehemiah rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem,” the pope presented “the image as a model for the ethical construction of the digital age.”[7] I doubt very much if the distinctly theological meaning of that figure is as an ethical model, so we may legitimately ask what of the textual meaning did the pope omit that is distinctly religious, and whether that is applicable to AI. Such overreaching onto even ethics stems from a greed of a certain sort that is also unbounded and based in self-love rather than self-regulation.

To claim as the pope did “that no one must be excluded from digital transformation and that human beings can never be reduced to ‘productivity,’ ‘cognitive performance,’ or ‘mere data’ is not to make a theological statement; a pope is not a business ethicist. John Rawls’ theory of justice applies to the design of economic systems with the priority going to the design itself being oriented to benefitting the least well-off economically. Such a theory is directly applicable to how everyone can actually be included in a digital economy rather than “a privileged few.”[8] So too is Kant’s categorical imperative that mandates that rational beings be treated not merely as means, but also as ends in themselves; human resource management could stand to take that imperative more seriously. In trying to invoke theology in stating, “The person bears within him—or herself—a freedom, an interiority, and a vocation to love and worship that no machine can replace or block,” the pope set up a red herring, for no appreciable danger from AI blocking worship existed even on the horizon in 2026, and certainly not in the workplace where productivity and performance are most relevant and where worship does not pertain. Even if AI were capable of worshipping God, presumably humans could still do so unimpeded, and people would not do it at work while getting paid for their labor.

The pope was on firmer ground in advocating a “civilization of love” as laid out by Pope Paul VI and John Paul II, yet in inviting all people to become “artisans of hope,” Pope Leo turned hope toward Augustine’s earthly city rather than to the heavenly city.[9] That is to say, the theological dimension transcends society and the workplace, government policy, and technology, rather than being oriented exclusively or primarily to them. It is precisely that dimension that was absent from the pope’s remarks that centered instead on the ethics of computer technology. Overstepping into other domains can be thought of as leaving one’s home unattended and thus undefended in its own right, under its own criteria, such that people may even misconstrue it as something else entirely.

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1. Linda Bordoni, “Pope Leo Presents ‘Magnifica Humanitas’ Calling for Disarmament of AI,” Vatican News, 25 May, 2026.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., italics added.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.

Magnifica Humanitas: On Leo the Lion-Hearted

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.

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1, Linda Bordoni, “Pope Leo Presents ‘Magnifica Humanitas’ Calling for Disarmament of AI,” Vatican News, 25 May, 2026.

Religion Overreaching: Euthanasia

The Nazi program of inflicting euthanasia on the severely mentally ill in the twentieth century can be distinguished from cases in which suffering people with incurable diseases desire to die voluntarily sooner rather than later. In cases in which such people are mentally ill, the question is more complex, especially if the cause of the suffering is mental. In 2026, the Roman Catholic Church castigated a court ruling allowing the euthanasia of a mentally-ill person whose suffering stemmed in part from severe bodily pain and an incurable diagnosis other than that of the mental illness. Ironically, the Church discounted the element of compassion in putting someone out of one’s misery that would only get worse, and instead focused on “the culture of death” even though Jesus is silent on that issue, as well as homosexuality and abortion, in the Gospels. This is a case, I contend, of religion overstepping onto another domains—ethics and medicine in particular—while shirking its native fauna.  

On March 27, 2026, 25-year-old Noelia Castillo died by euthanasia in the E.U. city of Barcelona. A court had sided with her decision to end her life voluntarily “because she suffered from a serious and incurable condition, with severe and chronic suffering.”[1] By this description, I assume that the condition was not that of mental illness even though the latter played a role in how she came to have the condition of such physical pain. So even though Noelia had “struggled with psychiatric illness since she was a teenager, and tried taking her life twice,” the second time (after she had been sexually assaulted) leaving her unable to use her legs, the severe and chronic suffering can be distinguished from her psychiatric suffering.[2] So even though her judgment may have been clouded by her psychiatric illness, the court could use a reasonable-person basis to assess whether the suffering from the non-psychiatric condition was enough to justify euthanasia. To be sure, if the incurable aspect refers to not being able to use her legs rather than a mortal illness, the court’s ruling could be criticized because future advances in medical science could potentially relieve her suffering and even restore the use of her legs, especially given her young age and the advances that would be possible in her lifetime. On the other hand, the combination of psychiatric and physical pain and suffering could be sufficient to justify Noelia’s early death out of sheer compassion. In this respect, the Church’s reaction can be criticized by drawing on the salient of compassion associated with Jesus in the Gospels.

Luis Arguello, president of the Spanish Bishops’ Conference, said, “A doctor cannot act as the executioner for a death sentence, however legal, empowering or compassionate it may appear.”[3] The hyperbolic language of executioner and death sentence aside, the bishop’s claim that the compassion motivating euthanasia is merely apparent rather than actual can be countered by the fact that compassion does apply to relieving especially severe, unrelenting physical pain that is expected to continue for the rest of a person’s life. That advances in medical science could mean that the continuance-assumption can be questioned does not nullify my claim that compassion to relieve suffering, whether one’s own or that of another person, is authentic rather than merely apparent.

Also problematic, the organization Christian Lawyers put out the following statement: “If deliberately caused death is the solution to problems, then anything goes.”[4] It does not follow, however, that if euthanasia is the solution to some but not any problem, then anything goes ethically. In other words, euthanasia, which follows prescribed guidelines, does not imply nor lead to ethical relativism. The latter holds that if a cultural norm exists in a society, then that is enough to validate the norm ethically.

The reference to relativism, moreover, exemplifies the tendency of religion to overreach into another domain, in this case ethics. At the very least, relating euthanasia to relativism requires some study of ethical theory, which is an academic field distinct from theology. Nor does theology include societal analysis (which in turn is distinct from the field of ethics because norms are not ethical principles). So in making the claim, “we have all failed as a society,” regarding the euthanasia case, Bishop Perez was overreaching from the domain of religion and thus can be reckoned as a dilatant.[5]

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1. Jesus Maturana and Cristian Caraballo, “Catholic Church Criticises Noelia Castillo’s Death by Euthanasia, Saying Society Failed,” Euronews.com, 27 March, 2026.
2 Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.