It is instructive that Pope Leo’s first statement raises concerns about artificial intelligence.
It is instructive that Pope Leo’s first statement raises concerns about artificial intelligence.
A rtificial intelligence first sparked the public’s imagination because it was so good at so many things. It could analyze mountains of data, instantly summarize tomes, draft legal briefs, and edit articles.
But it then spread like wildfire because there were no firebreaks. Who could argue against a technology that promised to make staggering advancements in science, dramatically reduce labor costs, automate arduous tasks, and help stressed-out parents, anxious students, and time-strapped professionals get stuff done?
It’s not that no one had misgivings. Teachers have quietly worried that students aren’t doing their own reading or writing anymore. Lots of workers have wondered what will become of their jobs. The stories of people looking to AI for romance seem dystopian. But few have wanted to object too strenuously and come across as a killjoy Luddite opposed to progress. And, frankly, many of the public complaints have been particular and self-serving: actors worried that AI will take their roles, labor unions worried AI will replace their members, professors worried AI will make their vocation obsolete. Suppressing the AI wildfire would require, it seems, a sober-minded moral and historical framework from a confident, experienced, reliable source.
Enter Pope Leo XIV and his first encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas.
In this document, released on Monday, the first-ever American pontiff argues that AI, despite its unquestionable potential, threatens our humanness. “In the era of artificial intelligence, when human dignity is threatened by new forms of dehumanization, ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human.”
He sees AI’s primary threats as enabling the centralization of power; diminishing the role of study, conversation, and judgment; depressing employment; and undermining individual agency and family stability. The church’s goal is to promote human flourishing, and that is not the same as making life faster, simpler, and more efficient.
But as important as its argument is the encyclical’s approach. It begins by explaining why Catholic social teaching (CST) exists, its value to previous social-political discussions, and why it can help us understand and manage the promise and risks of AI. The tone is humble but firm. The language and message are accessible. It was clearly written with non-Catholics and those unfamiliar with CST in mind (the same cannot be said of all encyclicals).
For those concerned about the wildfire spread of AI and the burn scar it leaves behind, Magnifica Humanitas may read like a bracing rainstorm that douses the flames — or maybe even the rainbow as the smoke and skies clear.
The first half of Magnifica Humanitas is primarily preamble and literature review. It’s essential reading for those unfamiliar with CST.
Rather than jumping into AI immediately, Leo explains why and how the church has engaged in issues of the day instead of simply sticking to matters of religious doctrine. In short, Catholicism has evergreen principles, but it also has more than a billion adherents and more than 200,000 parishes spread across the globe. Its commitment to fostering human flourishing and protecting the disadvantaged requires that it continuously reconsider its principles in light of real-world conditions — and share those insights broadly. As he writes, “The proclamation of the Gospel cannot overlook the concrete lives of people.” The church’s guidance is not “an external code of ethics imposed from above.” Instead, the church “walks alongside humanity,” and therefore, “she cannot consider herself a stranger to the forces shaping society.”
But, the pope makes clear, it must do this work humbly, “following the example of the Good Samaritan, with discretion and closeness.” The church is not the state, and it is not the sole source of wisdom. It respects the power and duties of civil governments, recognizing “the distinction between ecclesial and political communities” and never claiming “to assume the functions belonging to the State.” It also respects the knowledge and life improvements produced by science: “Technology has the power to heal, connect, educate and protect our common home,” and “the contributions of philosophy and of the human and social sciences is essential.” The church puts its principles and its 2,000 years of experience in conversation with these other authorities. He calls that discussion “a process of shared discernment.” Indeed, Magnifica Humanitas cites Plato, Arendt, and Tolkien as well as Augustine and Aquinas.
To facilitate the conversation, popes have, for several generations, expounded key tenets of CST. That is, rather than simply declaring its position on some issue, the church reasons from developed principles. These include subsidiarity (how different authorities and duties are spread across society, including limitations on the state), solidarity (the importance of our relationships with and responsibilities to one another), and the common good (the set of conditions essential for individuals and communities to reach their fulfillment). So when a pope chooses to join a conversation, the church’s views are not knee-jerk but shaped by these long-standing, fully articulated principles.
Leo explains that his guidance on AI is completely in character for the church. For more than a century, his predecessors have regularly issued encyclicals to discuss the weightiest contemporary issues. It is no different today: “We must ask God for the wisdom to interpret the great trends of our time, particularly technological advances.”
He cites a long list of past papal contributions, giving special attention to the most influential. Leo XIII’s 1891 Rerum Novarum explored “the conflict between capital and labor, the question of the workforce, and economic and social transformations.” Pius XI’s 1931 Quadragesima Anno weighed in on the concentration of economic power, collectivism, the right to association, and more. Saint John Paul II’s 1991 Centesimus Annus discussed the collapse of the Soviet Union, the expansion of democracy, the growth of market economies, and the value of solidarity and personal initiative. Over generations, then, the church, through study and real-world engagement, has built the religious equivalent of a sturdy body of academic literature — knowledge slowly accrued and tested over time. Or, as he explains it, “the Church’s Social Doctrine is not the result of a project devised at a desk but rather the product of a patient process.”
But Leo is not merely advocating the process. He is rightly proud of the results. His not-so-subtle point is that previous popes have been not only correct on important issues but remarkably prescient as well. By applying time-tested values to novel challenges, they saw emerging problems and offered solutions long before others. Indeed, when Chicago’s son Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost chose the name Leo XIV for his papacy a year ago, he was paying tribute to Pope Leo XIII (author of the landmark Rerum Novarum) and signaling his plan to have the church engage in the most pressing matters of his day. It is instructive that his first statement is on AI.
The overarching point of Magnifica Humanitas is that AI could disorder society. Leo explains that while the church’s commitment to subsidiarity typically means arguing against the centralization of power in big government, AI requires the church to argue against the centralization of power inside massive technology firms: “The main drivers of development are private, often transnational, parties that are endowed with resources and the capacity to intervene that surpass those of many Governments.” He is concerned with how these firms will use their expansive power. “These entities effectively set the conditions for access, determine the rules of visibility and shape the very possibilities for participation. When such power is concentrated in the hands of a few, it tends to become opaque and evade public oversight, increasing the risk of distorted forms of development that give rise to new dependencies, exclusions, manipulations and inequalities.”
He explains that a well-ordered society protects the power and prerogatives of individuals, families, and a wide array of “mediating institutions” such as towns, unions, and community-based groups. The humanness of these associations is key, and it distinguishes them from digital products. “So-called artificial intelligences do not undergo experiences, do not possess a body, do not feel joy or pain, do not mature through relationships and do not know from within what love, work, friendship or responsibility mean. Nor do they have a moral conscience, since they do not judge good and evil, grasp the ultimate meaning of situations, or bear responsibility for consequences.”
It is striking that Leo’s first concern about AI is that it could distort the social fabric by upending the balance among society’s components. The church raised similar concerns a century ago when industrialization began concentrating power in enormous corporations and when statism began concentrating power in enormous governments. Those trends resulted in the disempowerment and then abuse of individuals, families, and associations. The church is still wise to that risk. When it comes to AI, “communities and intermediary organizations must not be reduced to passive recipients of decisions made elsewhere; they must be able to contribute to discernment and oversight.”
Magnifica Humanitas also raises concerns about the effect AI could have on students. He cites the research on the harmful consequences suffered by children as a result of our uncritical embrace of the last generation of tech marvels, namely screens and social media. He calls education “a long journey requiring patience,” and he warns that the availability of quick answers “risks extinguishing the desire to ask questions.” He lauds the payoff of time, struggle, and discussion, and he worries about valuing effortlessness. “The speed and simplicity with which information, complex analyses, media content and practical assistance can be accessed undoubtedly makes life easier. Yet they can also encourage excessive reliance and the search for ready-made answers and weaken personal creativity and judgment.” Returning to the theme of humanness, he writes, “Schools are not called to follow the pace of the digital world, but to offer that which the digital sphere by itself cannot provide, namely a shared time for learning and developing trustworthy relationships.”
Leo also spends a great deal of time on the negative consequences of AI-caused job losses. He reiterates the church’s enduring views on the importance of work — how it provides dignity, builds responsibility, and prevents dependence. Work “is a requirement of the human condition, a normal path toward maturity, development and personal fulfilment.” Though he never mentions a universal basic income, it is not hard to infer his meaning when he writes, “Financial assistance to the poor may at times be necessary in emergencies, but it cannot become the sole response, since the goal is to enable each person to live with dignity through his or her own work.”
He argues that unemployment undermines the family, which is “a primary social good.” He also emphasizes the formative nature of early-career employment; it is where “identity is formed, friendships and relationships are forged, practical responsibilities are learned, and one’s vocation is discerned.” Given AI’s effects on entry-level jobs, this should be a real concern.
Though the church does not want families to be perpetually reliant on the state, this section is the most government-forward. He advocates ensuring that AI innovations are coupled with programs to ensure employment and retraining. He supports progressive taxation and redistribution. He wants corporate commitments that the quality and dignity of work are among the private sector’s success measures. Indeed, Leo is no free-market fundamentalist, writing, “Economic freedom is not absolute; it must always be measured against the common good and the dignity of every person.”
Magnifica Humanitas offers different insights and recommendations from the other voices in this debate because it asks a different foundational question. AI boosters imply that the key question is, How can this technology make human lives easier? The church is asking, How do we protect the essence of being human? And since man is made in the image and likeness of God, preserving humanness is to honor the Almighty.
In Leo’s eyes, preserving humanness means recognizing the distinct powers and duties of individuals, families, voluntary associations, and other contributors to society. It means enabling individuals to work so they can provide for themselves and others. It means preventing the accumulation of power in the hands of those indifferent to human flourishing. It means valuing real experiences and real conversations over digital facsimiles.
Two of the benefits of being a 2,000-year-old global institution with a billion followers is the indifference to being labeled a killjoy Luddite and the willingness to speak everlasting truth to new power. Though it might be unpopular to call for pumping the brakes, Magnifica Humanitas asks us to do just that so we have the time to get our priorities straight. “Calling for prudence, rigorous evaluation and even, at times, a slower pace in adopting AI does not mean opposing progress; instead, it is an exercise of responsible care for the human family.”