Discerning artificial intelligence through the Gospel: between calculation and relationship

The question discernment keeps skipping

In his letter on safeguarding the human person in the age of artificial intelligence, Pope Leo XIV expresses that everything in the digital revolution “requires discernment regarding the anthropological vision that guides it and the ends it pursues” (Magnifica Humanitas, MH, No. 94).

Certainly, discernment “cannot be limited to asking whether we use a particular system for a good or bad purpose, but must also question the way in which it is designed and what idea of the person and society is inscribed in the data and models that guide it” (MH, No. 104).

However, five months after its publication, it seems that the decisive question has still not been asked: who was the human being who needed ChatGPT? Why did they need it? What for?

This could be a major starting point for discernment and for bringing, in the face of an anthropological vision, the human logic of the Gospel: friendship, care, relationship.

What Alessandro Baricco(the Italian novelist and essayist, author of “The Game,” a widely read study of the digital revolution) expressed about smartphones can be perfectly applied to artificial intelligence: “the new [human being] is not the one produced by the smartphone: it is the one who invented it, who needed it, who designed it for its use and consumption, who built it to escape from a prison, or to answer a question, or to silence a fear.”

That project of humanity or anthropological vision, as Leo expresses it, which gave rise to the digital revolution, involved introducing human beings, their ideas and their things into a dynamic system “where friction with the world would be reduced to a minimum and ease of movement would become the highest value, its first rationale and its sole foundation.”

Eliminating friction, losing the face of the other

To build this entire project by privileging non-friction (fluidity or hyperconnectivity), it was necessary to translate a world-universe into the lightest possible weight, thus ensuring its ability to travel faster.

Therefore, although AI has its own particularities and affects each person who prefers and uses it differently — the same could be said of the universe of social media — it contains the elements that gave rise to the digital revolution and its project of humanity.

In this sense, artificial intelligence is a technical face — one more, one more layer — of “the idolatry of profit that sacrifices the weak, the uniformity that flattens differences, the pretension of a single language — even a digital one — capable of translating everything, even the mystery of the person, into data and performance” (MH, No. 10).

That chatbots do this, just like algorithms, or some voice assistant in some home, is not a system error: they have been built in pursuit of this model of humanity.

For discernment, it is worth not forgetting that eliminating friction with the world has been the principal objective, although not the only one that gives coherence to the entire digital revolution: from the computer to today’s most advanced AI systems.

In other words, what still beats within it is a “very high instinct to install a world with direct traction, skipping as many steps as possible and reducing to a minimum the mediations between [the human being] and things or between [one person and another],” as Baricco explained very well some years ago.

This suppression of mediations, however, is only apparent. Today we know that they have been replaced by others that are more opaque: platforms, recommendation systems, artificial intelligence models and technology companies, which, incidentally, because of their nebulousness and almost invisibility, have in common that they make it difficult to question them.

Where does the complete elimination of friction with the world and, therefore, of mediation lead? The loss of the face of the other. Why? Because the other introduces delay, resistance and unpredictability. The other does not always respond as expected, does not necessarily confirm our desires and requires listening and reciprocity.

When speed, a homogenizing way of speaking, immediacy — among other values — become dominant criteria, that otherness may appear as an obstacle that should be avoided or as data that must be managed.

From letters to the total digitization of life

First, some things belonging to the human being were translated into the lightest possible weight, for example, letters.

However, soon not only everything of our own — ideas and thoughts — was digitized, but the other was also integrated into this digital universe.

Thus, the human being who wanted to “limit contact with physical reality, to make the relationship with the world, with things, with people more fluid, cleaner and more pleasant” needed all their things — their music, for example — their ideas, their thoughts and everything human to travel without borders, without order and without stagnation: light, almost weightless, always safe from material reality which, of course, makes everything slower, more complicated and full of friction; a reality that, among other things, with its friction and order forces an encounter with an-other-different-from-me.

Perhaps, for discerning the vision of the human being that gave rise to the digital revolution and, within it, to artificial intelligence, this represents a key idea.

In any case, it is worth clarifying that the problem is not every reduction of friction, but making it the guiding criterion of social life and applying its logic to realities such as friendship, education, care and discernment, whose value depends precisely on time, resistance and reciprocity.

Thus, while a model of (digital) progress seeks to reduce friction and displaces human mediations, the Bishop of Rome points in another direction: “True progress is always born from a heart open to the other, from an intelligence willing to listen, from a will that seeks what unites rather than what separates” (MH, No. 15).

From this perspective, it is concerning that, in the absence of friction, the face of the other tends to disappear and that, therefore, the possibilities of a project of fraternity-sorority become uncertain.

Francis recalled in Christus Vivit that digital culture can hinder “the development of authentic interpersonal relationships” (Ch, No. 88).

In turn, in Fratelli Tutti he pointed out: “Digital relationships, which spare us the laborious cultivation of a friendship, stable reciprocity, and even a consensus that matures over time, have the appearance of sociability. Digital connectivity is not enough to build bridges; it is not enough to unite humanity” (FT, No. 43).

In the face of this uncertainty, one question for discernment is to raise the following question about artificial intelligence — specifically — and the digital revolution — more broadly: “Do they really contribute to helping people and peoples grow in humanity and fraternity, in respect for our Common Home and future generations?” (MH, No. 85).

A good synthesis of the problem could be added to this set of reflections by recalling the words of Leo XIV in his catechesis of Sept. 16, 2026.

In it, the pope said: “On the one hand, in fact, technological development, the spread of the media and social networks, and the ever-increasing use of artificial intelligence open up new possibilities, breaking down barriers and distances; on the other hand, relationships tend to become less and less personal, more virtual, and there is a risk of becoming accustomed to delegating to algorithms decisions that belong only to human conscience.”

Based on the above, it must also be acknowledged that this (digital) revolution and culture tends toward “a uniformity that eliminates diversity and that, instead of communion, chooses homogenization” and that, at the same time, “sacrifices the dignity of people for the sake of efficiency” (MH, No. 7).

What does Leo XIV propose in the face of the digital revolution and generative AI?

If the digital paradigm conceives of fullness as immediate availability, the elimination of resistance and control, Christian anthropology proposes the opposite movement: receiving existence as a gift, recognizing vulnerability and accepting that the other can never be reduced to an available function.

In his words, the antihuman vision of the digital revolution and AI maintains that “the fullness of life would consist in having more, reducing fragility, eliminating the unforeseen and controlling everything. When efficiency becomes the measure of value, human beings are tempted to regard themselves as a project to be optimized rather than as creatures called to relationship and communion” (MH, No. 112).

In the face of this antihuman vision, the Bishop of Rome sets the Gospel against it “because it provides the criteria for recognizing what humanizes or dehumanizes, what liberates or oppresses, in ever-new situations” (MH, No. 36).

For this reason, much of his reflection presents and emphasizes the elements of humanity that form a fundamental part of the Christian proposal, that is, of the Gospel.

Of course, he directs his gaze primarily to the humanity of Jesus; in his incarnation, the believer finds the way, the truth and the life — Leo XIV states. He describes it as “fully free, open to others, capable of building supportive and precious relationships, and given over to the total gift of self” (MH, No. 49).

The full humanity of the Incarnate Word serves as a criterion for discerning — on the horizon of the project of the Kingdom — what humanizes and brings to fulfillment.

“Learning to welcome every woman as a sister and every man as a brother, children of the same Father” (MH, No. 49), whoever freely follows the Master of Nazareth increasingly humanizes the (digital) reality.

How is this relational vision translated into digital culture?

In addressing digital missionaries, Leo XIV invited them to repair the networks by building “other networks: networks of relationships, networks of love, networks of free exchange, in which friendship is authentic and deep. Networks where what has been broken can be repaired, where loneliness can be remedied, regardless of the number of followers, but experiencing in every encounter the infinite greatness of Love. Networks that make space for the other rather than for themselves, where no ‘filter bubble’ can silence the voice of the weakest. Networks that liberate, networks that save. Networks that make us rediscover the beauty of looking into one another’s eyes. Networks of truth.”

Repairing the networks means restoring human depth to relationships subjected to speed, visibility and calculation. This task takes on particular importance in light of what Leo XIV stated in his catechesis of Sept. 16, 2026.

There he pointed out that the contribution of the Christian community consists in “giving social relationships real substance and personal depth” amid the digital revolution and in the age of artificial intelligence.

Relationship as constitutive, dignity as gift

What has been said might seem of little relevance for discerning (in) the age of AI.

However, what paragraph 50 expresses contains an important key: “Every person, made constitutively for relationship, is conceived and desired by God to enter into a history of communion with Him, with others and with creation” (MH, No. 50).

For the Christian vision, relationship is constitutive: without it, something is broken in every human being.

This relationship turns organically and is nourished by the bond with God, with those faces of others and — no less importantly — with creation, because “every human being is created in the image of God and incorporated into a network of relationships that binds them to others, to peoples and to creation” (MH, No. 73).

At this stage of the digital revolution, the prevailing model of humanity expresses that a person’s dignity “depends on the capacities they possess, the wealth or role they have, and the just or mistaken decisions they make” (MH, No. 50).

But for Leo XIV, it is a gift that precedes and exceeds the person. Whenever this is forgotten, the human being “ends up being reduced to a means of obtaining results, a resource to be used and exploited” (MH, No. 51).

The attention economy and the illusion of consensus

Hence the way people’s attention is played with, for example, and why it is so difficult to stop after watching a video on TikTok (the attention economy).

The difficulty lies in the fact that “platforms and services are designed to capture users’ time and attention, exploiting their vulnerabilities and weakening inner freedom. When business models prosper at the expense of human weakness, the person is treated as a means and not as an end” (MH, No. 170).

Likewise, among the videos that seem impossible to stop watching, there appears content capable of creating the impression that everyone in the (digital) world thinks in the same way.

There is no friction! “Control does not operate only through explicit prohibitions, but through the architecture of visibility: what is amplified or made invisible, what is rewarded or penalized, ultimately shapes opinions and choices, generating conformity and self-censorship” (MH, No. 171).

In other words, what remains is calculation: “It is not the experience of someone who allows themselves to be shaped by life and grows over time through decisions, mistakes, forgiveness and fidelity; rather, it is a statistical adaptation based on data and feedback, which can be very effective, but does not imply inner growth” (MH, No. 99).

Thus, it can be recognized that artificial intelligence is not exclusively a technical matter, but also a human one.

What is called the digital revolution today is intimately linked to a mental revolution and to a “model of humanity for which all of this works.” Today, it is necessary to preserve this precision. Hence the relevance of the words of the Bishop of Rome:

The risk is not only that some technologies are misused, but that the technocratic paradigm in which we are immersed, strengthened by the digital revolution and AI, makes an antihuman vision appear just and normal, according to which the fullness of life would consist in having more, reducing fragility, eliminating the unforeseen and controlling everything.

When efficiency becomes the measure of value, human beings are tempted to regard themselves as a project to be optimized rather than as creatures called to relationship and communion (MH, No. 112).

For this reason, something that must continue to be emphasized in training courses on Digital Pastoral Ministry is that it was never only — nor primarily — about learning to use tools.

This is one of the great conclusions of the work of Group 3 of the Synod (one of the thematic working groups of the Synod on Synodality): “the digital environment is not merely a set of tools to be mastered, but is a culture.”

Years ago, the Directory for Catechesis (a 2020 Vatican document guiding catechetical practice worldwide) pointed toward something similar: “the real question is not how to use new technologies for evangelization, but how to become an evangelizing presence on the digital continent.”

In Baricco’s words, “it was not merely a technical matter, the ordering of material: [it is] a matter of mental structure, the movement of thoughts, the use of the brain.”

Can Christianity renew its commitment to the human?

At present, rather than anti-humanity or inhumanity, it will be necessary to build a way of inhabiting the world that is not recognized “by the power of its means, but by the care it knows how to offer, by the ability to recognize a face in the other and not a function.

The ability to know how to care for one another is an important dimension of our being human” (MH, No. 114).

Thus, while the revolution continues to propel humanity toward an increasingly rapid movement without mediations, and new deities consolidate their dominance, Christianity narrates an opposite movement: “the mystery of the Son of God who enters into our condition narrates an opposite movement: the living God who descends into our history to free us from all slavery, assumes our weakness and transforms it into a place of salvation. There is no moment or human condition that is not worthy of God” (MH, No. 232).

When did this cease to constitute the horizon, even the ethical one? Love, service, generous self-giving and, above all now, trust “in the power of the Kingdom, which develops from the smallness of a mustard seed, like a seed that, once sown, sprouts and grows (cf. Mk 4:26-32).

While the noise of confusion surrounds us, good grows silently from the earth” (MH, No. 210). Choosing this trust, this slowness, the face of the other, listening, dialogue, the word, serene reflection, care and peace requires inner freedom and critical thinking. From a Christian perspective, it requires, even more, a fundamental commitment to the Kingdom of God and the Gospel.

A question now remains open: will Christianity be able to renew its commitment to this way of being — of embodying — what it means to be human?

If what it means to be human is lived from the humanity of Jesus — the hope of the Bishop of Rome and, with him, that of the entire community of faith — it will be possible to navigate this digital revolution and the age of artificial intelligence.

Thus, while artificial intelligence extends an earlier anthropological project — reducing friction, eliminating mediations and translating reality, including the person, into available data — Christian discernment must confront that project with an anthropology of relationship, care and communion.

This is a translated and edited version of the column that first appeared on Religion Digital, and has been republished with permission by Global Catholic. The views expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Global Catholic.