In Pope Leo’s encyclical on human dignity and artificial intelligence (Magnifica Humanitas), he appeals to three truths that serve as a foundation for any attempts to build a more just society: (1) the human person created in the image of the Trinity; (2) the equal dignity of each human being; and (3) the supreme value of human rights. You can read my previous posts to learn more about truth #1 and truth #2. Today I conclude this three-part series with a reflection on human rights. In the months ahead, time permitting, we can continue with Leo’s five principles of social justice that build upon this foundation.
Some might object that all this talk about “human rights” is newer in human history and newer in the teachings of the Church. It’s true that you won’t find that exact phrase in Scripture or in many centuries of Christian theology. The concept is there from the beginning, like an acorn waiting to sprout and grow. It’s taken ongoing reflection to deepen our understanding of just how much dignity every human being has and all the implications that stem from that dignity—such as recognizing how violating it is to coerce consciences, to force religion upon people, or to traffic human beings. Recent centuries have increased our awareness of these principles. Yet somehow those evils are as pervasive as ever.
Human rights and human dignity are inseparably linked. Pope Leo reminds us that “human rights are not an external addition to the person, but an expression of intrinsic human dignity, which the international community is called to protect and promote” (n. 54). When a culture respects the dignity of each human person, it will also protect and promote human rights. When a culture views some humans as valuable and others as expendable, human rights quickly dissipate.
Philosophy really matters here—especially in a pluralistic culture in which religious appeals can be dismissed. I certainly believe that the proclamation of the Gospel transforms hearts in a way that philosophy cannot. But not everyone is ready to receive the Gospel, and you don’t have to believe in God to believe in human dignity and human rights.
One of my side jobs is serving as an adjunct philosophy professor in our deacon formation program. You could even say that I’m the entire department—but they only have one course. I do my best to introduce a few important themes, and to spark a lively conversation.
This fall, we will no doubt be talking about the ways in which modern philosophy in the West (starting about 500 years ago) set us on our current trajectory, with AI now serving as rocket fuel. Not a few are fearing what kind of crash may be coming, if we do not reclaim our sanity.
I’ve reflected already on the influence of Francis Bacon and René Descartes. Today I want to consider Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679). His political philosophy views human rights as an “add-on,” rather than something intrinsically connected to human dignity. In Leviathan and elsewhere, he sees human civilization as a social contract that we’ve all entered into out of a desperation to survive the harshness of our nature. Unless we agree to give up some or most of our rights, human existence is bound to be “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short” (the famous quote from Leviathon).
The philosophy of Hobbes is brilliantly and chillingly represented in The Hunger Games. In those novels and films, some citizens live amidst privilege and luxury in “the Capital,” while the other districts subserviently provide for their luxurious appetites. Every year, the other districts are compelled to hold a lottery in which they send children as “tributes” to fight to the death in “The Hunger Games.” In Songbirds and Snakes, we learn the backstory of the dictator Corialanus Snow. We meet the creepy character of Dr. Volumnia Gaul, an early pioneer of the Hunger Games. She slowly warps the mind and heart of a young Cornelius with her insinuation that we need to have powerful leaders who rule ruthlessly. We need to sacrifice some people’s rights because—if we don’t—everyone’s existence will be like the Hunger Games. That is Hobbes’ political philosophy in a nutshell!
In ways that can only be rightly named as grooming and abuse, Dr. Gaul intentionally exposes young Cornelius to violent settings, slowly seducing him to embrace her way of being. As he feels increasingly complicit with the violence, she provides a steady drip of her Hobbesian interpretation. Consider these quotes:
“What happened in there? That’s humanity undressed. Filled with the terror of becoming prey. See how quickly we become predator? See how quickly civilization disappears?”
“Oh your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in the blink of an eye. Leaving a boy with a club who beats another boy to death to stay alive.”
Needless to say, this view of human nature is incompatible with the Christian view, in which God has chosen to create each of us in his own image and likeness, and to invest us with infinite dignity. The core of human nature is not isolation, poverty, violence, and death. Those are conditions that emerge when human dignity is violated. They are conditions that become intensified and perpetuated when Hobbesian dictators seize power over others under the pretense of showing benevolence. From the beginning, it was not so. We were always meant to be in healthy, trusting relationships, to live in stable and healthy communion with one another, and to bear abundant fruit.
Pope Leo is inviting not only Christians, but all humans, to reflect on human dignity and human purpose. You need not be a Christian to desire flourishing for the human race as a whole and for each individual. If you read the Ethics or the Politics of the Greek philosopher Aristotle, you hear a much healthier view of human nature and civilization. It is our nature to relate and be social, to enter into profound friendship, and to seek flourishing together. That doesn’t mean it is guaranteed to happen. Rather, it is a desire and purposefulness we will all find if we look deeply within ourselves. It is an ultimate fulfillment that we can all seek both individually and collectively. The sharing involved in civilization is for the sake of abundance, not because we are otherwise inherently dark and depraved. In the end, the political philosophy of Hobbes or Machiavelli allows dictators to rationalize their seizing of power over others. There was plenty to rationalize in the 1500s and 1600s.
By no means am I suggesting that all modern Western philosophy is bad. Indeed, by providing an increasingly subjective approach to philosophy, it has allowed us to reflect more deeply on these very truths of human dignity, human freedom, and human rights. There is great value in asking subjective questions (“What is it like to _______________?”), just as there is great value to seeking after objective reality (“What IS ____________?”). Curious philosophers do both!
Even though the AI landscape is changing faster than Taylor Swift at a concert, I suggest that artificial intelligence is not so much a radical new thing. Rather, it is a powerful amplification and acceleration of what is already there. The AI models still rely on programs and algorithms, and are data-driven and language based. In my understanding (someone tell me if I’m wrong!) that means they can still ultimately be reduced to ones and zeroes. They are neither human nor relational. They can only take what is already there and move it forward at an incredibly fast pace – and (if we don’t heed Pope Leo’s pleas) without the intervention of human compassion and wisdom.
Ideas have consequences – all the more so when those ideas are programmed into powerful machines. Leo asks for greater transparency about who is creating algorithms and for what purposes. He invites us to renounce ideologies that are willing to disregard the human rights of some. Throughout human history, minorities tend to be marginalized, while women and children and immigrants tend to be exploited for the sake of sex and power and greed. The biblical prophets spoke dozens of times in defense of the rights of the widow, the orphan, and the resident alien. Every pope for the last 135 years has done the same.
Our current pope is warning us—if we do not have a transparent dialogue about the values and priorities of AI models and how they are being trained, those age-old trends of exploitation are likely to accelerate exponentially. In the words of Spiderman, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Leo describes it to be a shared responsibility. Safeguarding human dignity and human rights is not just something “those people” have to do. It’s something we all do, both individually and together.