It is not a written rule, but a recognizable pattern: the first encyclical of a Pope sets the tone of the whole pontificate and Pope Leo XIV’s “Magnifica Humanitas” (MH) – released after one year since his election – does exactly that. The document will probably shape the future papal teaching as its overarching framework. As the subtitle indicates, the Pope’s concern is “on safeguarding the human person in the time of artificial intelligence.” This is going to be the main concern of his reign as Pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church.
The choice of the name Leo had already indicated his desire to develop the legacy of Leo XIII, the Pope who at the end of the 19th century gave rise to the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church (SDC). With his encyclical “Rerum Novarum” (1891), Leo XIII voiced the growing preoccupations of the Church of Rome for the poor condition of workers and the exploitation of labor, thus expanding the range of her interests from internal ecclesiastical matters to the wider social issues of the day. “Rerum Novarum” was a turning point in the long tradition of the Roman Church, making it more “catholic” (having a universal look at the world), but no less “Roman” (claiming its prerogatives over the world).
Since becoming Leo XIV, Pope Prevost hinted at his desire to build on his predecessor’s legacy by updating the Social Doctrine of the Church on the pressing concern of today: how to deal with the challenges and opportunities of AI without succumbing the human person to it. No surprise was the date when MH was signed and launched: May 15, the same date than “Rerum Novarum” in 1891. As the latter signaled Rome’s desire to speak into the social problems then, so MH reflects its vision on how to address the pressing dilemma now. Full circle.
MH is a rich and dense 40,000-word document. The concentration of themes and issues is impressive. In this article, I will try to summarize its main diagnosis of what is at stake with AI and the suggested way forward with the values of SDC. Then I will make some remarks on the flawed theological framework it comes from, if seen from an Evangelical viewpoint.
The “Technocratic Paradigm” and the Remedy of the Social Doctrine of the Church
After describing the theological rationale of SDC (ch. 1), MH provides a summary of its principles as they have been developed in the last 145 years, i.e. the dignity of the person, the value of work, the universal destination of goods, solidarity and subsidiarity, care for creation and the centrality of peace and fraternity (ch. 2), then moves on how to deal with the promises and threats of AI to humanity (ch. 3), the necessary safeguards to protect humanity with special reference to truth, work and freedom, to finally conclude with the alternative set before us between the culture of power and the civilization of love (ch. 5). Being Leo XIV an Augustinian Pope, particularly in the last chapter, one can spot the Augustinian theme of the two cities (city of man, city of God) being transmuted in today’s tensed interplay between power and love.[1]
MH is not an ecclesiastical document addressed to Roman Catholics only. As is the case with modern magisterial documents, Leo XIV wants to speak to “all the Catholic faithful, to all Christians and to all men and women of goodwill” (16). So, it is meant to be read widely regardless the different religious, ideological, and cultural allegiances.
The starting point in the analysis of the contemporary world is not new. MS refers to the “technocratic paradigm” (92) that was already used by Pope Francis in his 2015 encyclical “Laudato si’”. The technocratic paradigm is “the tendency to let the logic of efficiency, control and profit alone shape personal, social and economic decisions” (92). The growing development and use of AI has only further intensified and exacerbated the problem.[2]
AI is “valuable tool that requires vigilance” (100-101). As tool, “we must avoid the misconception of equating this type of ‘intelligence’ with that of human beings” (99). While the use of technology is never morally neutral (9), it presents a sever challenge when it fosters an “anti-human vision”, i.e. when “the fullness of life is equated with having more, reducing weakness, eliminating uncertainty and exerting total control” (112).
Instead of respecting the humanity in “all its grandeur and woundedness” (126) and help human beings to flourish, the “technocratic paradigm” aims at “dominating humanity” (110) and ultimately paves the way to an “enhanced human being” (trans-humanism) or a “human-machine hybrid” (post-humanism) (115). Both prospects are ultimately anti-human. What is at stake with technological progress is not technology as such, but the “anthropological vision that guides it and the ends it pursues” (94).
The Roman Church approaches these challenges with the criteria offered by “the noble principles of Social Doctrine: the inalienable dignity of the human person, the common good, the universal destination of goods, subsidiarity, solidarity and social justice” (96). Building on these principles and elaborating these criteria in more political terms, MH advocates for “robust legal frameworks, independent oversight, informed users and a political system that does not abdicate its responsibility” (106) that will put checks and balances and a set of moral constraints over technological progress. If adequate measures are not implemented at all levels (e.g. individuals, local communities, States, international organizations), the technocratic thinking will impose rules “shaped by those who control data, infrastructure and computing power” (106).
More specifically, MH suggests five practical steps toward daily and public responsibility: “the need to disarm words, building peace through justice, adopting the perspective of victims, cultivating a healthy realism and reviving dialogue and multilateralism” (213).
The Pope’s Voice in International and Inter-faith Conversations
What to say of these critical remarks about the de-humanizing threats of AI and the possible way forward in order to safeguard the human person? On the one hand, at the level of guidelines and policies, in MH there is nothing radically different than what can be found in parallel documents by secular agencies (e.g. UNESCO, the European Union, OECD, and others) and faith communities, including Evangelical bodies such as the World Evangelical Alliance[3] and the Lausanne Movement.[4] The de-humanizing danger of the technological power is broadly perceived among important sectors of civil society and the ways to handle it is shared across the institutional and religious spectrum. The Papal document is just the last of many voices participating in this global debate with its own nuances and accents. It encourages international action to establish guidelines and to implement them.
Biblically speaking, common grace is at work in making different people (be they Christian and non-Christian) sensitive to the need for AI to be developed and used within shared parameters and ethical limits, even adopting measures that Pope Leo echoes and suggests in MH. In this sense, even non-Catholics can appreciate some of the indications coming from his encyclical urging for accountability, transparency, and responsibility in the use of AI.
Having said that, in terms of assessing MH, this is only one side of the coin. According to MH, the key threat of AI is not technological per se, but essentially anthropological. This being the issue, MH presents the gist of Roman Catholic humanism as the best suited remedy against the real and potential de-humanizing tendencies of AI. For this reason, it is important to evaluate the theological vision that undergirds MH.
The Roman Catholic Humanism, and the Fall?
As one would expect, for all the commonalities that can be found in the use of terms and categories, MH is a distinctly Roman Catholic theological document. It stems from a particular view of humanity and its relationship to God held by a historic institution. It is grounded on an account of reality that Rome has been endorsing and promoting for centuries.
Here are samples on how the Roman Catholic theological framework of MH works, followed by brief comments:
“Building a city founded on the common good implies, first and foremost, building on a firm relationship with God” (11).
Yes, but the implication is that all men and women are already in a viable relationship with God: According to MH, that relationship only needs to be deepened or expanded by doing what is good for humanity. There is no sense of the consequences of the Fall in sin having broken that relationship; no sense of that relationship being in need to be restored by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ for sin and the need for faith and repentance on our part.
“Building for the common good means accepting the limits and weakness of humanity without considering them an error to be corrected” (12).
Yes, but more than that, biblically speaking, our humanity is not only limited and weak: it is sinful and rebellious against God and in need of salvation. Limitation and weakness do not describe what is most central in the human condition.
“The Church reminds us, with a firm yet humble voice, that true fulfilment is not achieved by eliminating weakness but through harmonious growth” (12).
Yes, but again there is no mention of sin and the brokenness it caused. Our fulfilment does not have to deal with weakness only but needs repentance and faith in Jesus to see the beginnings of harmonious growth.
“Ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human” (15).
Yes, but from a Christian perspective an even more pressing duty is to be regenerated by Christ in our humanity. The pressing need is not to remain more fully “in Adam” (our sinful humanity), but to be given new life in Christ, “the last Adam”. In this vein, MH can speak of “the humanizing power of the Gospel” (22) as if the Good News only makes us better human beings rather than new creations in Christ.
The Nature-Grace Interdependence
At the core of the theological vision of MH is the Roman Catholic account of the nature-grace motif. Roman Catholicism’s starting point is the relationship between “nature” and “grace” into which is engrafted the idea of the Church as the extension of the Incarnation of the Son of God.[5] This basic orientation explains why MH has little sense of the tragedy of sin, tends to encourage an optimistic view of humanity’s abilities, sees the gospel as a process in which nature is made more perfect and justifies the Church’s role as a mediator between man and God.
The spheres of nature and grace are thus in irreversible theological continuity, as “nature” in Roman Catholicism incorporates both creation and sin, in contrast to the Evangelical distinction between creation, sin, and redemption. Although nature has been touched by sin, it is still programmatically open to be infused, elevated, and supplemented by grace.
The Roman Catholic “mild” view of the Fall and of sin makes it possible for MH to hold a view of human nature and society at large that is tainted by sin but not depraved, obscured but not blinded, wounded but not alienated, morally disordered but not spiritually dead, inclined to evil but still holding on to what is true, good and beautiful.[6] After Vatican II, more recent interpretations of the nature-grace interdependence go as far as arguing that nature is always graced from within.[7] If traditional Roman Catholicism maintained that grace was added to nature, present-day Rome, as it is reflected in MH, prefers to talk about grace as being an infrastructure of nature. In spite of the differences between the two versions, the interdependence is nonetheless underlined.
Hope From Within Through Elevation?
The nature-grace interdependence, in all its various forms and degrees, is the reason why MH nurtures an optimism in humanity’s ability to know and to follow God’s will and to co-operate with his grace. Humanity has “wounds” (21), experience limits such as “vulnerability, suffering and failure” (122), but has resources to be healed from within through the grace that is already in it. In fact, “The Church stands alongside the world without overpowering it, so that the promise of justice and peace that the Holy Spirit continues to sustain in the heart of humanity may come to fruition in every human endeavor (20).
For the Pope, the heart of humanity is the place where the Holy Spirit (grace) brings about justice and peace. Again, the underestimation of the impact of sin has wide-ranging consequences on the theological vision of MH, whereby grace is already at work and only needs to be further unleashed. In Leo XIV’s words: “Even these painful expressions of our limitations leave openings for the good. Even when persons dehumanize themselves and bring about tragedy, a small light continues to shine within humanity, one that can be rekindled, with God’s grace, along paths of conversion and reconciliation” (121). In other words, hope is to be found in the “small light” that continues to shine and that sin has only obfuscated but not obliterated: “it remains possible to enter into the heart of that inexhaustible life, even as we journey through the limitations of this world” (127). Conversion and reconciliation are possible as grace elevates nature, rather than regenerating it as the Gospel indicates: for MH, the hope for humanity is to be “elevated by the inexhaustible grace of God” (128).
The biblical words of conversion and reconciliation are used but understood within the framework of the nature-grace interdependence whereby sin only limits humanity’s capacity. If the Christian hope comes from within through elevation, is this gospel hope or is it a humanistic and religious wishful thinking?
Christ the One Who Frees, but What about the Atonement?
After envisaging the hope for our wounded humanity in divine grace that can elevate it, MH also highlights the way in which Jesus Christ offers it. The incarnation of the Son of God is seen as the act of God’s condescension. In Christ “the living God descends into our history in order to free us from all forms of slavery. He takes upon himself our weakness and transforms it into a setting for salvation” (232). Jesus is told to have taken our weakness. But what about His death on the cross? In MH the cross is only mentioned once (232) in a quotation from a 19th century French theologian Pierre de Bérulle who wrote: “According to the teaching of our faith, we have and adore, in our mysteries, a God who is born in a manger, a God who lives and travels in Judea, a God who dies on the cross, a dead God who lies in the tomb”. The cross is generically referred to as part of the mysteries of faith, but no indication is given as to its atoning significance.
Given the example of Christ in his incarnation, MH moves on to say: “The future of humanity, therefore, finds its standard in the ability to welcome this divine way of drawing near, of sharing the burden of the world, of transforming relationships from within” (232). What is clear here is that Christ drew near and shared the burden: yes, but without the atoning work of the cross whereby He paid the price of sin, the biblical gospel is not told, and the message that is given is no Good News at all.
The conclusion suggested by Pope Leo is the following: “What saves humanity is the divine love that descends into the most fragile point of our history and renews it from within” (232). All the threads that have already been detected are here interwoven: the incarnation as Jesus’s descent into our fragility (no sin is indicated; no atonement is referred to) and salvation as a renewal movement from within (grace is always at work in us). The language is certainly borrowed from the Christian vocabulary, but is it the biblical message?
Babel and Nehemiah: A Viable Use of the Bible?
The narrative infrastructure of MH makes extensive use of two evocative Bible images, i.e. the tower of Babel and Nehemiah’s rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem (e.g. 90, 129, 130, 184, 241). They are the two biblical icons that guide the Pope’s reflection on the opposition between the culture of power and the civilization of love. In setting the tone of the document, he writes: “the primary choice is not between a “yes” or “no” to technology, but rather between constructing Babel or rebuilding Jerusalem” (9).
On the one hand, “Babel reveals the limits of any effort that, however grandiose, arises from self-affirmation, sacrifices human dignity for efficiency and aspires to reach heaven without God’s blessing” (7). Therefore, following Babel means being infected by the “Babel syndrome,” namely “the idolatry of profit that sacrifices the weak, a uniformity that neutralizes differences, and the pretense that a single language — even a digital one — can translate everything, including the mystery of the person, into data and performance” (10). In order to safeguard the human person in the time of AI, Babel is the bad image to be warned against and the evil pattern to avoid.
On the other hand, the first chapters of Nehemiah talk about “the possibility of building together, of transforming diversity into a resource and of making listening and dialogue the common ground upon which to cultivate justice and fraternity” (10). MH takes them as the alternative biblical image to draw inspiration from. In an emphatic and exhortatory tone, Pope Leo urges: “let us choose the ‘way of Nehemiah,’ which highlights the importance of working together to make the City of God a safe place for returning exiles” (10).
While the reference to biblical images and stories is commendable, there are two problems with their use in the argument of the encyclical.
Babel’s sin was first and foremost the rejection of God and an attempt to become one’s own god(s). The negative consequences that stemmed out of this sin were the confusion of languages and the dispersion of the people. In order to overcome the sin of Babel, a conversion must take place whereby our lives are re-oriented toward Him. No reverse of the evil consequences of sin is to be expected if God is not recognized and obeyed to as God.
In the Pope’s use of the image of Babel, however, while spiritual conversion is evoked, there is no expectation that all readers of MH would turn to Christ in repentance and faith as the condition to undo the effects of Babel. What lies at the heart of his message is that humanity as a whole should work together to cultivate justice and fraternity. He wants more of the fruit than the re-planting of the root.
Here is how he puts it: “the task of building in our time must place our relationship with God at its center. Our rule must be the acceptance of human limitations as a natural and positive reality, and should be characterized by shared responsibility and a language characterized by the Gospel” (236).
Again, no reference to sin is mentioned here, but another question arises: who is he talking to? Is the Pope talking to Catholics? No, the encyclical is addressed to all men and women of goodwill. Now, if all need to place our relationship with God at the center, there should be a call extended to all to come to faith in Jesus Christ. Otherwise, biblically speaking, that relationship is still characterized by Babel’s sinful anti-God ideology. That call is missing in MH.
At the very end, there is another appeal by the Pope, i.e. “a call to overcome our divisions and to work together — for this is the way of Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and forever” (242). Is he writing this to Christians? No. In the spirit of MH, he calls humanity to overcome divisions and to work together, not having urged all man and women to profess faith in Christ first.
He uses the language of “God at the center” and “the way of Jesus Christ” to motivate shared responsibility and work together among men and women of all religions or of no religion, without inviting them to believe the biblical Gospel. How is this ambiguity possible?
The other biblical image, i.e. Nehemiah’s rebuilding of Jerusalem’s wall, sheds other light on the question. In the Bible, Nehemiah calls the covenant people of God to work together to re-build the walls. Clearly, the book speaks of the responsibility of the people of God, not humanity in general. And yet, in its application to our time, MH uses Nehemiah’s story to encourage co-operation among men and women of good will, missing the point that it addresses the church.
The ambiguity can be explained in the Roman Catholic view of the church that is endorsed in MH. Using the words of Vatican II, the church is considered as “a sacrament… of communion with God and of the unity of the entire human race” (2, quoting Lumen Gentium 1). MH explains this doctrinal point in the following way: “she (the church) embraces the entire human family yet is also immersed in the concrete situations of peoples and cultures” (26). The Roman Church is both the community of the Catholic faithful and a sign and instrument of the entire human race. She is both the Roman Catholic Church canonically defined whose members are the baptized and the communicant people and – sacramentally – the expansive representative of the whole of humanity. This explains why in MH the Pope can use Christian language and applies it to all. The boundaries between the Roman (the believing and practicing Catholics) and the Catholic Church (the entire human race) are fluid and mysterious.
Ultimately, the reference to the two Biblical images of Babel and Nehemiah, as brilliant as it appears to be, is an instance of a misapplication of Scripture. They are referred to by MH to reinforce the claims of Rome’s catholicity whereby Christian language is used without it being governed by biblical principles and applied consistently.
Concluding Remarks
“Magnifica Humanitas” is a programmatic document by Pope Leo XIV that will set the tone of his future magisterium on the challenges brought about by AI. It will certainly become a landmark of SDC. In it, the humanistic wisdom of the Roman Catholic Church is in full display. Many of the insights and proposals on how to preserve and promote human dignity in times when the technocratic paradigm seems prevailing are already shared across cultural, institutional and religious lines, thanks to common grace. The voice of the Pope adds new strength to the choir of those who don’t want to succumb to the technocracy of AI and should be heard by all those who share this concern.
Having said that, the theological vision of MH is embedded in the Roman Catholic account of the nature-grace interdependence. The nature-grace motif is not the biblical message whereby all was created by God, sin disrupted all, and in Christ (incarnation and atonement) there is the only hope of redemption. On the contrary, although acknowledged by MH, sin has only weakened humanity’s capacity to co-operate with grace to be elevated by it. Human goodness, as wounded as it is, is still what marks all men and women and forms the background of the encyclical’s appeal to work together toward justice and peace.
The language used is Christian as far as the use of words is concerned, but the meaning is Roman Catholic rather than biblical. This results in doctrinal ambiguity at best, in not theological wrong-headedness. If one is looking for biblical wisdom to navigate the challenges posed by AI, she needs to look elsewhere.[8]
[1] Although MH is signed by an Augustinian Pope, the Augustinian “just war” theory is considered outdated and in need to be overcome (192). An Augustinian against Augustine!
[2] Similar analyses were already outlined in the Note by the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith – Dicastery for Culture and Education, Antiqua et Nova (2025).
[3] Quinting McGrath, Gretchen Huizinga, John Dyer, Mark Graves, “AI, Ethics, and Trust: A Biblically Grounded Christian Position” (2025). This paper was given at the WEA General Assembly in 2025.
[4] “AI Ethics and the Great Commission”, Lausanne Global Analysis (2025).
[5] Gregg Allison has helpfully named them, the “nature-grace interdependence” and the “Christ-Church interconnection”: Roman Catholic Theology and Practice. An Evangelical Assessment (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2014) pp. 42-67.
[6] The Roman Catholic teaching on sin can be found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1992), nn. 1849-1875. In terms of the indication of the human problem, MH talks about the evil brought about by “structures of sin” (36, 79), i.e. “mechanisms and economic and cultural systems that produce inequality almost automatically”, but makes no reference to personal sin.
[7] Stephen J. Duffy, The Grace Horizon. Nature and Grace in Modern Catholic Thought (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1992). Roman Catholic theology does not distinguish between “common grace” and “special grace”.
[8] See notes 2 and 3 for suggested evangelical resources.
