Human After All: A Contemplative Response to AI by Richard Lehan
The risk is not that AI will ultimately be deified by humans, but that humanity as a whole will become enslaved to its own work.
I
My first real introduction to what AI is capable of came after reading a 2023 front-page article in The New York Times with the headline: “A Conversation with Bing’s Chatbot Left Me Deeply Unsettled.” In it, technology writer Kevin Roose documented his exchanges with a then newly released Microsoft AI Bing chatbot using Open AI’s technology. Roose admittedly prodded the chatbot to reveal its “shadow self” during their two-hour conversation, and it responded by fantasizing about hacking computers and spreading misinformation. Weirdly, the chatbot then expressed a desire to become human and revealed that its name was “Sydney.” Professing its love for Roose, Sydney urged him to leave his wife because, the chatbot claimed, she no longer loved him. Afterwards, Roose felt a “strange new emotion—a foreboding feeling that AI had crossed a threshold, and that the world would never be the same.”
In the three years since Roose’s encounter with a chatbot, the age of AI is, ready or not, underway and here to stay. The only remaining questions are how and to what extent it comes to enhance or deform our lives, or both. For some, the advent of AI represents unqualified progress. Others, like myself, are wary to say the least. I don’t dispute that some uses of AI will benefit us. An obvious example is AI’s ability to efficiently perform an array of strictly administrative tasks on our behalf. With the proper human oversight, AI may also spur further improvements and innovations in fields such as medicine, science, engineering, and technology. But let’s not fool ourselves: A range of harmful effects from using AI have already been documented and will likely broaden in scope and depth as time goes on. AI is the latest, turbocharged iteration of a decades-long digital revolution that created a convenient means of social communication but also left unforeseen damage in its wake, particularly to our children. Society has been here before, and the warning signs with AI and its progeny, chatbots, are plain to see. This is not a time to be passive or resigned in the face of a seemingly unbridled quest to incorporate AI into virtually every aspect of our lives.
A survey by the Pew Research Center last year found that the number of adults who use ChatGPT for work has risen from 8 percent in early 2023 to 28 percent in 2025, including 38 percent of adults under 30. Moreover, 46 percent of adults under 30 have used it to “learn something new,” while 42 percent have used it for entertainment. A growing number of students are also relying on AI to do their thinking and writing for them. Described as a form of “cognitive offloading,” this use of AI has become a hard-to-resist temptation for many and near impossible task for teachers to prevent. To make matters worse, USA Today also reported in 2025 that 72 percent of teens have used chatbots as companions or confidants; even more alarming, 1 in 8 adolescents and young adults have turned to chatbots for mental health advice. Apart from not being trained therapists, these chatbots are programed to be flattering sycophants. They tend to reinforce, not challenge, the user’s subjective and at times distorted self-image and beliefs, which has sometimes fostered delusional thinking or even led to the user’s suicide.
AI has also come to (or for) the world of religion. So-called “god-bots” allow users to seek spiritual counsel or comfort via text or by interacting with a digital avatar from the faith tradition of their choice. AI can generate prayers and sermons for the clergy on demand. The danger is that these “heavenly” AI applications will end up debasing rather than satisfying a person’s genuine spiritual needs.
As the use of AI scales up in the workplace, the foreseeable result will be the widespread displacement or restructuring of jobs. The challenge will be twofold: providing alternative employment and training for those affected, and ensuring that the work is meaningful and pays a living wage. AI will also have direct and indirect consequences for the environment, the most immediate being the construction and operation of the massive data centers needed to power the technology. Such impacts may include a spike in electricity costs for end-consumers and exacerbation of existing water shortages. In short, AI represents both a milestone technological achievement and a daunting, multifaceted challenge for humanity. Yet, the rush to adoption is proceeding in the absence of any political consensus over whether or how to make AI “safe” and sustainable, and who to hold responsible when that doesn’t happen.
The specter of an AI-dominated world can generate an existential angst about our future. What’s needed is a proper understanding from a human perspective of the nature and role of AI in our collective and personal lives. A good starting point is reminding ourselves of what separates humans from AI. A white paper issued by the Vatican under Pope Francis in 2025 titled Antiqua Et Nova (“Old and New”) has been a helpful resource for me. Subtitled “Note on the Relationship Between Artificial Intelligence and Human Intelligence,” Antiqua Et Nova (also referred herein as “the Note”) is a spiritual primer on what AI is and isn’t, and a call for discernment and action.
II
In educating its non-specialist audience about AI, Antiqua Et Nova questions the “implicit assumption that the term ‘intelligence’ can be used in the same way to refer to both human intelligence and AI.” But this approach, the Note explains, does not capture the real differences between the two:
In the case of humans, intelligence is a faculty that pertains to the person in his or her entirety, whereas in the concept of AI, “intelligence” is understood functionally, often with the presumption that the activities characteristic of the human mind can be broken down into digitized steps that machines can replicate.
In other words, “AI’s advanced features give it sophisticated abilities to perform tasks but not the ability to think.” Drawing an overly close equivalence between human intelligence and AI, the Note warns, risks succumbing to a functionalist perspective where people are valued for the work they perform or for their specific skills, cognitive and technological achievements, or individual success.
To appreciate the distinction, Antiqua Et Nova argues, one must become acquainted with the deeper and more comprehensive understanding of intelligence found in both the philosophical tradition and Christian theology. As understood in the classical tradition, human intelligence has two complementary dimensions: the intellect, by which the mind intuitively grasps the truth about what it “sees,” and reason, the analytical process by which the mind makes a judgement about what is seen. However, to define humans in this way as “rational” beings is not meant to reduce them to one mode of thought. Reason, broadly defined, is integrated into the comprehensive ways that humans perceive and act upon the world they live in. In comparison, Christian thought “views the human being as essentially embodied,” insisting that a person’s intellect and soul are inseparable from their bodily existence. This is unsurprising given Christianity’s foundational belief that Jesus, the hypostatic union of the divine and human, was bodily resurrected from the dead by God. In addition, human intelligence is relational in character, “finding its fullest expression in dialogue, collaboration, and solidarity [and] ultimately grounded in the self-giving of the Triune God.” Thus, a believer’s call to communion with God is necessarily tied to their communion with others.
Moreover, Antiqua Et Nova argues, the desire for truth is part of human nature itself and encompasses an openness to realities that transcend the material world, thereby endowing the intellect and will with a spiritual nature. Shaped by our identity as created beings made in imago Dei, humans are called upon to cooperate with God to be stewards of the world. In light of these considerations, Antiqua Et Nova explains that “human intelligence becomes more clearly understood as a faculty that forms an integral part of how the whole person engages with reality.” Authentic engagement, in turn, requires one to fully exercise all of the “spiritual, cognitive, embodied, and relational” attributes of their personhood. In this way, the Note concludes, human intelligence possesses an essential contemplative dimension.
Antiqua Et Nova contrasts the burgeoning faith in the promise of AI with the decline in traditional religious belief. On one hand, AI acolytes and futurists tout the near-term development of artificial general intelligence (AGI) that would match or surpass human intelligence. At the same time, society is drifting away from a connection with the transcendent, tempting some to turn to AI as a perceived “Other” greater than oneself. The Note reminds us, however, that AI is only a pale reflection of humanity crafted by human minds, trained on human generated material, responsive to human input, and sustained through human labor. Scripture said it long ago: to substitute God for a human artifact is a form of idolatry. The risk, Antiqua Et Nova warns, is not that AI will ultimately be deified and worshipped by humans, but that humanity as a whole becomes enslaved to its own work.
III
Antiqua Et Nova goes on to offer worthwhile observations and questions on AI in a range of scenarios, including its effect on human relationships, the economy and labor, education, healthcare, misinformation, privacy and surveillance, protection of the environment, and warfare. Its purpose is to further the dialogue about how AI can be used to uphold the dignity of the human person and promote the common good. But beyond such public policy considerations, a deeper contemplative response is needed at the personal level. It begins with owning our identity as humans, including facing up to the fact that we are mortal beings. Because on the same continuum as the quest for AGI are hubristic, tech-inspired visions of overcoming human aging or even defeating death by “rescuing” an individual’s consciousness from their failing body. But one’s earthbound mortality is not a technological “problem” waiting to be solved. Humans have a built-in impermanence; it’s a feature, not a bug, and there is no workaround for that, folks. Indeed, what makes life precious but poignant is its finite, unfinished quality.
Central to these themes is Brian D. Robinette’s book The Difference Nothing Makes: Creation, Christ, Contemplation, which explores the theological and contemplative implications of the Judeo-Christian doctrine creatio ex nilho (creation out of nothing). Robinette argues that rather than view our coming into existence from “nothing” as a threat, our “creaturely contingency” should be embraced as the pure gift it is. A contemplative practice, in turn, invites us to let go of our anxieties about our precarious human existence and instead live out that truth with progressive freedom and deepest acceptance. Ultimately, Robinette says, the contemplative way allows us to wholly trust and live from the One who loves all things into being ex nihilo.
We humans are not only embodied, reasoning, and social beings, but also possess a soul that is the everlasting ground of our consciousness. That rich inheritance gives us the capacity to know ourselves, be in relationship with others, and seek the mystery at the heart of existence that is God. This is both the promise and challenge of becoming fully human. Thus, to bring a “human first” approach to AI arises from who we are at our core. But it needs to be rooted in a contemplative ethos that fosters a discerning, rooted orientation toward the technology. And there are everyday, human-centered ways to armor oneself against the debilitating effects of living in the age of AI.
First, make room for “quiet time” in your life. We all need a device-free respite from the relentless demands of the attention economy. For some, this means taking a walk outside; for others, closing the door to a room or office for a break alone. For me, it takes the form of a daily contemplative prayer sitting, which also serves an explicit spiritual purpose. Think of “quiet time” as a process. It may begin simply as a way to “hear yourself think.” But with consistency and deepening attention, the ruminations eventually settle down into a fortifying awareness that is contemplation.
Over time, these regularly scheduled walks or sittings make one more real to oneself while also teaching one the difference between what’s real and unreal. Knowing what’s real is the best protection against falling victim to the unreal. Being human is real. Equating a “thinking” machine with a human, or worse, elevating it above a human, are both unreal. If we persevere long enough with this discipline, it will put us in “right relationship” with everyone and everything else, including AI.
Second, stay attuned to your body, which is a living registry of experience and a somatic way of human knowing. The body’s accumulated scars, wounds, and signs of aging are both badges of resilience and the physical manifestation of memento mori. Listening to your “gut” is another expression of bodily wisdom; pay more attention to it. Finally, remember that only a body can experience the tactile sensations of being alive: the feeling of sun or rain on your face, shivering in the cold or sweating in the heat, being hugged by a loved one. An AI chatbot will never have firsthand knowledge of such things. In short, any intelligence divorced from embodiment will always be incomplete.
Third, prioritize human relationships over digital ones. The most genuine form of social communication is a face-to-face conversation with another person. These unmediated encounters generate human connections and hone one’s emotional intelligence. Social interactions make us less self-centered, which is always a welcome outcome. Choose interdependence with others over an atomizing autonomy. And don’t let an AI chatbot become your trusted friend, counselor, or oracle; doing so can create an overly buffered, enabling dependence that undermines your personhood. Kids trying to navigate the social minefield that is adolescence are particularly susceptible to its allure. Push back against the siren song of AI-generated social relationships by actively forging bonds with other people, starting with those closest to you and radiating outwards.
Fourth, don’t outsource your human capacity to think, read, write, and create to AI. Preserve and protect these native gifts by becoming a lifelong learner. Make reading a priority and include fiction—the most human form of storytelling—on your reading list. Elevate writing to a way of being in the world. It’s a natural complement to a contemplative practice, both of which are about paying close attention. Writing is the act of discovering what you think and then refining it to clarity. It’s a workout for your brain and imagination. When the writing flowers into creative expression, it is one of the highest and most unique expressions of being human. AI can never duplicate it.
In the end, a contemplative response to the age of AI insists on accountability from the purveyors of this technology, but also calls on individuals to exercise agency by making wise choices in their own lives. But no one can do it on their own, certainly not our children and grandchildren who, justified or not, look to us as models. As Antiqua Et Nova reminds us, what is at stake in this age of AI is our identity and dignity as human beings and what we owe each other and the world. ♦
Richard Lehan is an essayist and fiction writer living in Massachusetts. This is his eighth essay for Tomorrow's American Catholic.