The Empty Chair and the Soul in Silicon: AI and the Church

Reflections on AI in Times of Transition on the Throne of Peter

A Cátedra Vazia e a Alma no Silício: IA e a Igreja

The Empty Chair and the Soul in Silicon: AI and the Church

In this singular moment we are living—with the recent departure of Pope Francis and the world's eyes turned to Rome, awaiting the Conclave that begins on May 7—my reflections turn to perennial questions, those that transcend a pontificate. One of them, perhaps among the most urgent and defining of our century, is the advancement—as fascinating as it is unsettling—of Artificial Intelligence.

A recent document, fruit of collaboration between the Dicasteries for the Doctrine of the Faith and for Culture and Education, still echoes with particular force in this interregnum. Titled Antiqua et Nova, it reminds us: even when the See is empty, the Church's conscience remains active—and attentive to the ethical crossroads of the present. The text offers one of the most lucid analyses ever proposed on AI from a theological and anthropological perspective. And it invites us, before advancing further, to pause and discern.

The Wonder and the Abyss

We live surrounded by technical marvels. Algorithms learn patterns, write poems, compose soundtracks, diagnose diseases. But, as the document firmly points out, there is a qualitative abyss between the procedural intelligence of machines and the lived intelligence of humans.

"AI can compose a symphony that moves us. But can it itself hear the silence?"

This question—which seems rhetorical, but is profoundly real—is at the heart of the distinction we must preserve. For it is not just about what AI can do, but who it can or cannot be.

Simulation is not Substance

It is natural for us to project our image onto the creations we produce. We say they "decide," "write," "learn." But human intelligence, as the text recalls, is unified: body and mind, reason and emotion, immanence and openness to the transcendent. AI, however sophisticated it may be, does not inhabit this same field.

The temptation to confuse simulation with presence, calculation with consciousness, may seem like merely a rhetorical deviation. But it is, in fact, a civilizational risk. Confusing the map with the territory. Or worse: believing that the map is sufficient.

Ethics as Direction, Not as a Brake

There are those who read texts like this as a call to technological conservatism. But the more honest reading is different: Antiqua et Nova does not ask us to slow down out of fear—it asks us to accelerate with discernment.

The Vatican's appeal is clear: if we are infusing "intelligence" into artificial systems, what moral compass will guide this process? How can we prevent this new digital presence from emptying the space of real human relationships, ethical discernment, compassion that cannot be automated?

Technology, yes. But in service of freedom, justice, dignity.

Between Francis and the Future

We don't know if this document will be seen as part of Francis's final legacy, or as the first challenge for the new pope. But it is already, in itself, a landmark.

In a time when technology CEOs write manifestos about AI with the air of future gospels, it is symbolic that the Catholic Church—one of the oldest institutions on the planet—offers a mature reflection, without technophobia and without naivety.

A More Human Choice

The chair is empty. The silicon, lit. We are between two intelligences: the one we created—and the one that created us.

And only one of them has a soul.

As we await the white smoke, one question remains, reverberating beyond the walls of the Vatican:

Faced with intelligences that we ourselves have set in motion, will we be capable of reaffirming and protecting that which makes us uniquely human?

Or will we resign ourselves to being supporting actors—in a plot that we ourselves have ceased to write?

📖 Cited document: Antiqua et Nova — On Artificial Intelligence Vatican, January 28, 2025 👉 Read in full (in English Leia na íntegra (em inglês))