The Human Above Technology. Commentary on the Encyclical Magnifica Humanitas, by Leo XIV
By Cristina Inogés Sanz, theologian
Magnifica Humanitas is an encyclical dedicated to your magnificent humanity, whoever you may be if you have approached this text. It is addressed to the humanity created by God, a humanity we must protect and care for. In this era of Artificial Intelligence and historic transformations, humanity stands before crucial decisions. Shall we build a Tower of Babel, or shall we build the Holy City, Jerusalem, in order to dwell there with God?
With a clear Augustinian influence, Leo XIV’s encyclical places us before a decision that appeals not only to human conscience but equally to human awareness. It is an invitation to discernment.
The question posed is whether humanity will choose to eliminate its own limits and reject God while sacrificing the weakest among us—the Pope warns that opaque algorithms risk reproducing prejudices and discrimination, concealing the exclusion of the vulnerable beneath a cloak of neutrality and technical objectivity. “Thus injustice is silenced, and compassion, mercy, and forgiveness disappear from the horizon—not merely as appearances, but as political acts” (n. 103). Such a humanity erases differences, becomes uniform, gray, apathetic, and creates a language that effectively reduces people to mere data.
Or will humanity choose the Holy City and recognize that AI requires clear criteria that place the human person first, while acknowledging its limits? Limits that enable us to recognize God and our neighbor, and above all, God in our neighbor.
For true progress is born from a heart open to others through compassion and empathy. This is far removed from Elon Musk’s way of thinking, who once stated that “empathy is the epidemic of the West.” Throughout 245 paragraphs and approximately 41,500 words, in an encyclical three times the length of Rerum Novarum by Leo XIII and nearly as long as Francis’s Laudato Si’, Leo XIV argues that true progress can be measured only by the capacity to protect the most vulnerable and guarantee the dignity of every person.
Contrary to the predictions of doomsayers and prophets of disaster who, even before the document was published, spent days predicting that Leo XIV—that is, the Church—would attack AI, we instead find a text that does not condemn it, that does not see only negative aspects in it, but rather helps us think—or continue thinking—about the anthropological crisis in which we are immersed.
The question is not whether AI can be humanized, but to what extent human intelligence can remain human, personal, and free in the face of AI’s daily and often overwhelming presence. Ultimately, the concern is that technology should not occupy human space. This is what makes AI truly an anthropological—and therefore theological—issue.
The Pope offers us a framework of principles through which to understand the transformation before us. This framework includes human dignity, the common good, the universal destination of goods, subsidiarity, solidarity, and social justice.
Many points could be highlighted from the text, but given its length, I will emphasize five, in the order they appear:
A/ Data are recognized as part of the universal destination of goods: patents, algorithms, and digital infrastructure are assets that cannot remain concentrated in the hands of a few (n. 67).
B/ Subsidiarity is redefined for the digital world, where the “higher level” is no longer the State but the major technological platforms that establish the conditions for access to public life (n. 71).
C/ AI is not morally neutral; every technological artifact embodies choices and priorities (n. 104).
D/ The document introduces the concept of “disarming AI”: removing this technology from the logic of armed competition, which is no longer only military but also economic and cognitive (n. 110).
E/ Digital colonialism is identified as a new form of extraction—not only of natural resources but also of health data, epidemiological profiles, and genetic maps. These are the “new rare elements of power” and the great danger of new forms of slavery (nn. 174–176).
For this reason, we are invited “to look clearly at digital production chains, the labor conditions hidden behind our devices, the mechanisms that profit from manipulation and war; and at the same time to seek concrete ways of increasing equity, participation, and care for creation” (n. 240).
The challenge is evident because one of the central themes of the encyclical is its denunciation of the “technocratic paradigm” (nn. 92, 94, 185) and the immense digital power concentrated in the private sector. Leo XIV points out that, unlike the last century when States directed innovation, the principal drivers of development are now private and transnational entities, some of which possess resources and capacities greater than those of many governments.
No one can feel excluded from the reflection presented in Magnifica Humanitas. By citing Hannah Arendt, Romano Guardini, Plato, Viktor Frankl, J.R.R. Tolkien—beautifully through a direct quotation from Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings—Ludwig van Beethoven, and Pablo Picasso, the encyclical employs a universal language that embraces human reality itself and can be understood by everyone.
Indeed, during the presentation of the encyclical, there was a universal appeal to the entire human family to build a civilization of love. Leo XIV’s invitation to “disarm” AI—while acknowledging that he deliberately chose a strong and provocative expression—is intended to awaken consciences everywhere. Any great technological power must be accompanied by moral discernment and public oversight (n. 110), because we face an ecological challenge “in the most radical sense, because it involves a new dimension of our common home. AI is already an environment in which we are immersed and a power with which we must contend. Therefore, it is not enough to regulate it: it must be disarmed and made accessible.”
The Pope issues a powerful warning about future wars when he states that war “is invoked far too often to justify any conflict, even when it is subject to the right of legitimate defense” (n. 192), fueled by “polarizing media narratives, often amplified by algorithms that glorify confrontation and opposition” (n. 190). There is no algorithm capable of making war morally acceptable (n. 198).
Magnifica Humanitas is, ultimately, an invitation—almost a plea—to get our hands dirty in the mud of mutual care. For sometimes washing our hands like Pilate—which translates into looking the other way—is the surest way to stain them beyond cleansing.
This is required reading, whether you are a believer or not. Remember that it is addressed to “all people of good will,” following the formula used in John XXIII’s Pacem in Terris. The entire text has a positive tone, but I leave you with one reflection that retains that positive spirit while carrying a slightly unsettling note:
“It is appropriate to make two preliminary observations. First, any statement about AI risks becoming obsolete in a very short time, given the astonishing speed at which these systems develop. Second, all of us—including those who design them—know very little about how they actually function. Modern artificial intelligences are more ‘cultivated’ than ‘constructed’: developers do not directly design every detail but instead create an architecture upon which the AI ‘grows.’ Consequently, fundamental scientific aspects—such as the internal representations and computational processes of these systems—remain unknown. There is therefore an urgent need for a twofold commitment: on the one hand, a deepening of scientific research; on the other, an exercise of moral and spiritual discernment” (n. 98).
Precisely for this reason, Christopher Olah of Anthropic—whose company lost billions after opposing Pentagon demands in the United States by insisting that the final decision should always belong to a human being rather than AI—stated during the presentation of the document that AI companies operate under commercial, geopolitical, and personal-ambition pressures that directly conflict with ethical decisions.
He added:
“I would like to conclude with a very clear request. We need more people in the world—religious communities, civil society, academics, governments—to do what His Holiness has done here: take this seriously, observe carefully, and help steer events in a better direction. We need informed critics who tell laboratories when we are failing. We need moral voices that are not bent by incentives. Today is only the beginning: the start of a long collaboration between those of us building these systems and those who can see what we, from the inside, cannot. Today is a powerful example of what this global project of goodwill could look like. May it also be a decisive first step toward a hopeful future for magnificent humanity.”
In response, Leo XIV replied:
“On behalf of the Church, I accept your invitation to walk together.”
In paragraph 211, and to continue reminding us of the hope to which we are called as human beings, Leo XIV writes:
“Even in the darkest nights, the Lord raises up men and women capable of refusing resignation and persevering in goodness: people who protect the fragile and open paths of reconciliation. The memory of the saints and the righteous, of often-forgotten builders of peace, shows that grace does not eliminate conflict through a magical gesture but generates an active resistance to evil and a surprising creativity in goodness.”
As a point of curiosity, the title of the encyclical affirms the “magnificent humanity” created by God and revealed in its fullness in Christ—a humanity whose splendor no machine will ever be able to replace (n. 15). It also alludes to the Magnificat proclaimed by Mary before Elizabeth, which overturns the logic of power.
By the way, according to AI, the word “person” written in lowercase appears in binary code as:
01110000 01100101 01110010 01110011 01101111 01101110 01100001
Think of the people you love, those you know, and even those you do not know…
A little cold, don’t you think?