ENCYCLICAL LETTER
MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS
OF HIS HOLINESS
POPE LEO XIV
ON SAFEGUARDING THE HUMAN PERSON
IN THE TIME OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
The res
novae of our time
Two
biblical images
Building
for the common good
Remaining
human
CHAPTER
ONE
A
DYNAMIC APPROACH FAITHFUL TO THE GOSPEL
A
Church journeying through human history
The
wisdom of the word of God in dialogue with the human sciences
Social
Doctrine as a shared discernment
The
development of Social Doctrine from Leo XIII to the present
The
first stages of the Church’s Social Doctrine
The
years of the Second Vatican Council
The
recent Magisterium
Interpreting
history in the light of faith
CHAPTER
TWO
FOUNDATIONS
AND PRINCIPLES OF THE SOCIAL DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH
The
foundations of Social Doctrine
The
human person: image of the Triune God
The
equal dignity of all human beings
The
supreme value of human rights
The
principles of Social Doctrine
The
principle of the common good
The
principle of the universal destination of goods
The
principle of subsidiarity
The
principle of solidarity
The
principle of social justice
Integral
human development
An
examen for the Church
TECHNOLOGY
AND DOMINANCE.
THE
GRANDEUR OF HUMANITY IN LIGHT OF THE PROMISES OF AI
The
technocratic paradigm and digital power
Artificial
intelligence
A
valuable tool that requires vigilance
Responsibility,
transparency and the governance of AI
What
must not be lost
Underlying
narratives: transhumanism and posthumanism
The
limit, the heart, the grandeur of the human person
The
authentic “more than human”: grace and Christian humanism
Two
cities and two loves
CHAPTER
FOUR
SAFEGUARDING
HUMANITY AT A TIME OF TRANSFORMATION.
TRUTH,
WORK, FREEDOM
Truth
as a common good
Truth
and democracy
Communication
and the collective imagination
Toward
an ecology of communication
An
educational alliance for the digital age
The
central role of schools
The
dignity of work at a time of digital transition
The
value of work
The
problem of unemployment
An
economy that values dignity
Families
and young people: the social conditions for hope
Protecting
freedom against dependencies and commercialization
Dependencies
and societal control
Breaking
the chains of new forms of slavery
A
shared responsibility
THE
CULTURE OF POWER AND THE CIVILIZATION OF LOVE
The
civilization of love in the digital age
The
culture of power
The
normalization of war
Force
without limits
Weapons
and artificial intelligence
The
crisis of multilateralism
A
supposed political realism
Building
the civilization of love
We
can all do our part
The
need to disarm words
Building
peace through justice
Adopting
the perspective of victims
Cultivating
a healthy realism
Reviving
dialogue
The
necessity of diplomacy and multilateralism
Praying
and hoping
CONCLUSION
The
Word became flesh
One
body in Christ
The
construction site of our time
The
song of hope: the Magnificat
1. Humanity, created by God in
all its grandeur, is today facing a pivotal choice: either to construct a new
Tower of Babel or to build the city in which God and humanity dwell together.
Each generation inherits the task of shaping its own era, of guiding history to
become a place where the dignity of every person is safeguarded, justice is
promoted and fraternity is made possible. Yet every era also runs the risk of
creating an inhumane and more unjust world. Whenever humanity is in danger of
marring its true identity, we Christians lift our eyes to the Incarnate God,
knowing that it is “only in the mystery of the Word made flesh that the mystery
of humanity truly becomes clear.” [1] In Jesus Christ, this humanity in
its grandeur becomes the Way, the Truth and the Life, opening the path for each
of us to grow toward fullness.
2. Founded on Christ, the living
stone, we experience the powerful and mysterious action of the Holy Spirit, and
we believe that every authentic human effort to cooperate with him for the good
will be blessed by our heavenly Father, in whom we place our hope. For this
reason, we can diligently contribute to every initiative that builds a more
just world, and we can call others to collaborate in promoting the integral
development of every human being. We wish to engage in dialogue with all men
and women of our time, with whom we share in the events, questions and aspirations
of humanity. [2] Together with them, we seek to
identify new paths for the common good and for promoting a dignified life for
all. Indeed, openness to dialogue is an integral part of the Church’s vocation
because, constituted in Christ as “a sacrament… of communion with God and of
the unity of the entire human race,” [3] she recognizes history as the place
where the Gospel challenges and directs human experience.
3. In this spirit, Pope Leo XIII published
his Encyclical Rerum
Novarum in 1891, the 135 th anniversary of
which we celebrate with deep gratitude this year. With that document, my beloved predecessor gave
impetus to the reflection on society, the economy and politics, which is now
known as the “Social Doctrine of the Church.” When some objected that the
Church should not waste energy on worldly matters, but instead focus on
communicating the message of eternal life, Leo XIII responded
with realism and wisdom, saying that the proclamation of the Gospel cannot
overlook the concrete lives of people. [4] Many decades have passed since then,
and the Magisterium, pastors, theologians and faithful have continued to
reflect on social issues in the light of the Gospel. Today, the Social Doctrine
of the Church is a legacy of wisdom, where we find principles for thought,
criteria for discernment and judgment, and concrete guidelines for action.
Founded on Sacred Scripture and Tradition, and in engagement with the sciences,
it helps us clearly interpret the challenges of the present and identify
appropriate ways for living out a clear Christian witness, with joy and in
service to the world. It is not an inert set of concepts, but a living corpus of
truth that safeguards and interprets humanity’s vocation to a full and just
life. I therefore wish to add my own voice to this living tradition, invoking
the help of the Spirit of wisdom, who has dwelt in the world since its
beginning (cf. Prov 8:22-31).
4. While Leo XIII spoke
in his time of “new things” ( rerum novarum), today we cannot limit
ourselves simply to repeating his insightful teachings. Instead, we must ask
God for the wisdom to interpret the great trends of our time, particularly
technological advances. In recent years, it has become increasingly evident how
rapidly and profoundly digitalization, artificial intelligence (AI) and
robotics are transforming our world. Technology should not be considered, in
itself, as a force antagonistic to humanity. On the contrary, it has formed
part of our history since the beginning as “a profoundly human reality, linked
to the autonomy and freedom of man.” [5] Over the centuries, technological
development has significantly improved the living conditions of humanity. At
the same time, each phase of progress has also revealed the ambiguity of tools
that can cause harm when not oriented toward the good. Today, however, we find
ourselves facing a new situation. The power and prevalence of emerging
technologies are interwoven into the fabric of daily life, shaping
decision-making processes and deeply affecting the collective imagination:
“Never has humanity had such power over itself.” [6] New technologies open up a horizon
extending in directions that are imaginable but not yet fully predictable. This
complicates the assessment of their potential impact and the long-term effects
they may have on both the dignity of individuals and the common good.
5. It now falls to us to face the
challenges of our time with clarity of thought and responsibility. It is
necessary to establish adequate regulatory tools capable of upholding justice
and curbing the distorting effects of technological power. Nevertheless, the
issue is not limited to regulation. As Pope Francis warned,
we must realistically ask ourselves who holds this power today and how they use
it: “It must also be recognized that nuclear energy, biotechnology, information
technology, knowledge of our own DNA, and many other abilities which we have
acquired… have given those with the knowledge, and especially the economic
resources to use them, an impressive dominance over the whole of humanity and
the entire world.” [7] In the past, it was largely up to
the State to guide and direct innovation. Today, however, the main drivers of
development are private, often transnational, parties that are endowed with
resources and the capacity to intervene that surpass those of many Governments.
Technological power thus takes on an unprecedented, predominantly “private”
aspect, which makes it even more challenging to discern, govern and direct such
power toward the common good.
6. For this reason it is
necessary to begin a shared discernment process for identifying the spiritual
and cultural roots of ongoing transformations. If we focus only on
contingencies, we risk letting the succession of emergencies dictate the
direction of our path. We are living through a rapid phase of transition, a
“change of era,” in which — while some are vying for the future of new technologies
and others dedicate themselves to reflecting on the matter — most people are
watching and waiting, observing from afar and merely hoping for the best. For
this very reason, crucial questions impose themselves on our conscience and can
no longer be avoided: Where are we going? Toward what goal do we wish to orient
ourselves? What direction should we choose as a people and as a human
community?
7. In order to answer these
questions and discern how to navigate responsibly the era of AI, I would like
to bring to mind two scenes from the Bible: the construction of the Tower of
Babel (cf. Gen 11:1-9) and the rebuilding of the walls of
Jerusalem (cf. Neh 2–6). The story of Babel appears in the
Book of Genesis, at the origins of humanity, immediately after the genealogies
of Noah’s sons. After settling in a plain in the land of Shinar, the people
decided to build a city and a tower “with its top in the heavens” (Gen 11:4).
Fearing being scattered across the earth, they sought to guarantee stability
and power for themselves, and above all to “make a name” for themselves. It was
an impressive feat: a single language, a single technology, a single direction.
However, the project concealed a profound danger. It was a project conceived
without reference to God, supported by a uniformity that eliminated diversity
and that chose homogenization over communion. When a city is built on pride and
the claim to self-sufficiency, communication breaks down, languages are
confused and people no longer understand each other. The result is not unity,
but dispersion. Babel thus 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.
8. The Book of Nehemiah, in turn,
opens at a time of great vulnerability in the history of ancient Israel. After
the Babylonian exile, a portion of the people returned to Jerusalem, but the
city was still in ruins, the walls collapsed and the gates burned (cf. Neh 1–2).
Nehemiah, a Jew in the service of the Persian King Artaxerxes, received news of
the disastrous state of his ancestral city. Before taking action, he fasted,
prayed and interceded for the people. He then asked the king for permission to
return to Jerusalem and, upon arriving, examined the destroyed areas in
silence. He did not impose solutions from above. He convened the
families, assigned each of them a section of the wall to rebuild, listened to
their concerns, coordinated their efforts and addressed any opposition. The
narrative shows how the city is reborn, not through the initiative of one man,
but through the shared responsibility of all: men, women, priests, artisans,
heads of households and young people all play a part. It is an undertaking with
God at the center, which rebuilds relationships before rebuilding with stones.
Thus, ancient Jerusalem rediscovers a common language — not one of uniformity,
but one of communion, namely the harmony that arises when all persons assume
their own role and recognize that their strength comes from the Lord.
9. In light of these two images,
the Holy Spirit challenges us today regarding our relationship with technology
and the ongoing digital revolution. Scientific discoveries are talents
entrusted to humanity so that they may bear fruit (cf. Mt 25:14-30).
Technology has the power to heal, connect, educate and protect our common home;
but it can also divide, exclude and generate new forms of injustice. In the
abstract, technology in and of itself is not a solution to humanity’s problems,
just as it is not inherently evil. In practice, however, technology is never
neutral, because it takes on the characteristics of those who devise, finance,
regulate and use it. Therefore, the primary choice is not between a “yes” or
“no” to technology, but rather between constructing Babel or rebuilding
Jerusalem; between a power that claims to dominate the heavens and a people who
work together in the presence of God to rebuild the walls of fraternal
coexistence.
10. We must, then, avoid 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. The risk of dehumanization — of
building a future that excludes God and reduces the other to a means — is an
ancient and ever-new temptation that today takes on a technical guise. Instead,
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. Rebuilding
today means recognizing that, precisely from the plurality of voices and
visions which, even though they sometimes remind us of the confusion caused by
the diversity of spoken languages, a bright possibility emerges. Indeed, this
is 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. Within this shared task, Christians discover
their unique role of guiding actions toward God so that, in his light,
pluralism does not dissipate into disorder, but instead, through the practice
of synodality, it becomes the space in which humanity rediscovers its solid
foundations and its final end. In the Book of Revelation, John sees the New
Jerusalem “coming down out of heaven from God” (Rev 21:2) as a gift
for all humanity. And this vision of grace is an invitation for us Christians
to work together in order to foster a peaceful, just and dignified life in
community within today’s “cities.”
11. Building a city founded on
the common good implies, first and foremost, building on a firm relationship
with God. It means recognizing that the truth of his love calls us to life “in
all its fullness” ( Jn 10:10) and communion with him. Like
Saint Augustine, we too can say, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and
our heart is restless until it rests in you.” [8] Indeed, God has inscribed in our
hearts a desire for happiness that embraces all the dimensions of life. The
Church, in dialogue with the men and women of our time, recognizes the urgent
need to safeguard and guide this aspiration toward its deepest truth.
12. Secondly, building for the
common good means accepting the limits and weakness of humanity without
considering them an error to be corrected. Today, the human desire for fullness
of life is at risk of being misled by deceitful goals, such as the prospect of
a technology that promises to free us from all weakness, and models of
wellbeing that leave behind entire populations. All too often, we place our
hope in unlimited “upgrades,” in forms of progress that exacerbate
inequalities, and in immediate solutions incapable of healing people’s wounds.
As a result, while some pursue the illusion of unlimited self-assertion, many are
deprived of basic necessities. The Church reminds us, with a firm yet humble
voice, that true fulfilment is not achieved by eliminating weakness but through
harmonious growth. It is found where freedom and responsibility are intertwined
with mutual care and true solidarity, and where progress is measured by the
dignity of each person and the good of all peoples.
13. Thirdly, building a world in
which everyone can flourish requires shared responsibility and courage. No one
can single-handedly bear the weight of the challenges the world is facing, just
as no one is so weak that they cannot play their part, for “power is made
perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9). All are given their own section
of the wall: scientists and researchers, entrepreneurs and workers, educators
and legislators, civil society, popular movements and faith communities. This
is the logic of subsidiarity, which values the cooperation between generations,
peoples, disciplines and cultures as the best way for fostering stability,
prosperity and peace. We should not be intimidated by tensions or differences
because they can become creative forces when guided by shared responsibility.
14. Finally, building for the
common good requires an evangelical language. We must avoid humiliating or
antagonistic words, opting rather for a clarity that sheds light and a
frankness that unlocks new possibilities. We cannot condone naïve enthusiasms,
nor fuel unfounded fears. Instead, let us establish standards for discernment —
the dignity of the human person, the universal destination of goods, the
preferential option for the poor, care for our common home and peace — and let
us translate these standards into practices such as responsible planning, the
assessment of human and social impact, the inclusion of the most vulnerable,
the promotion of digital literacy and guiding research and industry toward
justice and peace.
15. In the recent Ordinary Jubilee Year
of 2025, we walked as pilgrims of hope and were blessed with many graces.
Strengthened by these gifts, we can move forward with confidence to face the
arduous tasks and demanding challenges that lie ahead. In the era of artificial
intelligence, when human dignity is threatened by new forms of dehumanization,
ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human. We must lovingly
safeguard the grandeur of humanity bestowed upon us and revealed in its
fullness in Christ, the splendor of which no machine can ever replace. True
progress always stems from a heart open to others, an intelligence willing to
listen and a will that seeks what unites rather than what separates.
16. I address this heartfelt
appeal to all the Catholic faithful, to all Christians and to all men and women
of goodwill. Let us not be afraid to get our hands dirty on the “construction
site” of our time. Like Nehemiah, let us pray, plan wisely and work
perseveringly, placing God at the forefront of our actions and the human person
at the center of our choices. Thus, the “rejected stones” — the poor, the sick,
the migrants and the least among us — will become the cornerstone, and a solid,
welcoming common home will emerge on the earth, where love and faithfulness
will finally meet, and righteousness and peace will embrace (cf. Ps 85:10).
This is the blessing we implore from God; and the task that stands before us is
that of being builders of communion, rather than architects of Babel. We are to
be servants of the coming Kingdom, instead of lords of towers destined for
ruin. With the heart of a shepherd and a father, I ask everyone to abandon the
construction of yet another Tower of Babel and to join forces in building up
the common good, so that humanity will never lose its beauty, and the world
once again will come to recognize the human heart as the place where God
desires to dwell.
A
DYNAMIC APPROACH FAITHFUL TO THE GOSPEL
17. In this first chapter, I
intend to present synthetically how the Social Doctrine of the Church has taken
shape in the recent Papal Magisterium and in the Second
Vatican Council, in order to demonstrate its dynamic character. Indeed, in
each era the res novae require that this teaching address
historical questions in the light of revealed Truth. In this regard, artificial
intelligence, too, should not be considered as merely yet another theme to be
studied or a crisis to be managed, but rather as a development that challenges
the categories of Social Doctrine from within, calling for their further
development in fidelity to the Gospel.
18. This overview, however, would
not be very comprehensible if, before reflecting on the contribution of
individual popes and their most relevant documents, we do not first clarify
some fundamental principles concerning the way in which the Church exists in
history and relates to the world. Failing to do so would expose Social Doctrine
to the risk of being perceived as an undue interference in “worldly” matters or
as an external code of ethics imposed from above. In reality, it stems from a
Church that walks alongside humanity, recognizing the autonomy of earthly
realities and the distinction between ecclesial and political communities.
Indeed, it is for this very reason that she strives to serve the common good.
A
Church journeying through human history
19. The Church is present in the world
as a sign of unity for the entire human family. She recognizes today’s
questions and challenges as the current setting in which to carry out her
particular vocation of listening, dialogue and service, and of being responsive
to everything concerning the lives of contemporary men and women. This
involvement in people’s lives helps the Church understand ever more clearly
that her mission has a historical scope and entails a responsibility for the
way in which social relations are built. For this reason, she cannot consider
herself a stranger to the forces shaping society. On the contrary, the Church
actively participates in the processes by which society grows and is organized,
and she offers her own contribution to the creation of a more just and fraternal
society. Pope
Francis emphasized this historical dimension of the Church’s mission:
“No one can demand that religion should be relegated to the inner sanctum of
personal life, without influence on societal and national life, without concern
for the soundness of civil institutions, without a right to offer an opinion on
events affecting society.” [9]
20. The Church’s vocation and
duty to accompany humanity in the specifics of history leads her to recognize
that earthly realities possess their own proper character and order. The
Second Vatican Council expressed this principle with particular
precision in the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, whose sixtieth anniversary we remembered and celebrated with
gratitude on 7 December 2025: “If by the autonomy of earthly affairs is meant
that created things and societies themselves enjoy their own laws and values…
then the demand for autonomy is perfectly in order.” [10] This affirmation shows that
creation bears the imprint of an original goodness that our human outlook must
preserve, cultivate and bring to fulfilment. In this regard, the Church offers
herself in a way that helps to interpret reality in all its depth. She supports
with humble firmness the choices that promote the dignity of every person, the
cohesion of communities and the good of all. The Church thus 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.
21. Recognizing that God upholds
the freedom of men and women in the unfolding of history, the
Second Vatican Council affirmed the distinction between the ecclesial
community and the political community, emphasizing that each must operate with
full autonomy. The Church’s presence in the world is also expressed through her
relationship with civil society and public institutions. By engaging with these
entities, the Church acknowledges the value of social and political realities
and honors their specific responsibilities, supporting everything that fosters
the wellbeing of individuals and strengthens the fabric of society. The Church
does not claim to assume the functions belonging to the State. On the contrary,
she esteems those who serve the common good, and she firmly acknowledges the
responsibility that civil institutions hold within society. At the same time,
the mission entrusted to the Church prompts her to address the real suffering
of the men and women of our time. This closeness does not stem from an intent
to supplant civil institutions, much less from an implicit criticism of their
work. Rather, it stems from evangelical charity, which impels the Church to
draw near to the wounds of humanity whenever they surface with greater
severity. When the Church intervenes, she does so following the example of the
Good Samaritan, with discretion and closeness, aware that what arises from
urgent necessity cannot become the norm, nor replace the institutional
responsibilities proper to the civil community.
22. Starting from this twofold
acknowledgment — the autonomy of earthly realities and the distinction between
ecclesiastical and political spheres of competence — allows for a clearer
understanding of the direction that the Second
Vatican Council set for the Church in her relationship with the
world. Gaudium
et Spes reminds us that “it is the task of the whole People of
God, particularly of its pastors and theologians, to listen to and distinguish
the many voices of our times and to interpret them in the light of God’s word,
in order that the revealed Truth may be more deeply penetrated, better
understood and more suitably presented.” [11] Listening to the “many voices” is
no mere sociological exercise, but instead requires spiritual discernment.
Guided by the Spirit, the People of God come to recognize in cultural and
social transformations both the signs of the presence of Christ, who comes and
guides history toward its fulfilment, and those aberrations that obscure his
face. In this way, the essential core of revealed Truth is not altered, but
made explicit and adopted as a living standard for guiding concrete choices,
inspiring paths of personal and communal conversion, promoting structural
reforms and supporting new forms of evangelical witness in public life. History
is thus understood as one of the places in which the Church allows herself to
be taught by the Spirit about the humanizing power of the Gospel; and she
learns to develop her own teaching at the service of the dignity of every
person and the good of all peoples.
The
wisdom of the word of God in dialogue with the human sciences
23. The Church regards all who
sincerely seek “truth, goodness and beauty” as companions on the journey, and
considers them as “precious allies” [12] in defending the dignity of every
person and in caring for creation. Adopting the pastoral approach of the
Second Vatican Council, which invites us to listen, discern and interpret
the signs of the times, and enlightened by the wisdom of the word, the Church
is not afraid to encounter human knowledge. Indeed, the word of God provides
reliable standards for establishing paths of justice and opening ways of
reconciliation and peace among peoples. When it comes to applying these
standards to the complex situations of our time, the contributions of
philosophy and of the human and social sciences is essential. These disciplines
help us understand and analyze cultural, economic and political dynamics more
deeply. Saint
John Paul II recalled that the Church welcomes the contributions of
the social sciences in order “to draw from them concrete insights that help her
carry out her magisterial office.” [13] A dialogue with such kinds of
knowledge does not diminish the power of the Gospel. On the contrary, it makes
it possible to identify with greater clarity what genuinely fosters the lives
of individuals and communities. Following this perspective, Pope Francis emphasized
that when dealing with many specific questions, the Church does not claim to
offer “a definitive opinion,” [14] but recognizes the importance of
listening to scientific research and of encouraging a serious and honest debate
among experts while welcoming a diversity of opinions.
24. Nourished by this fruitful dialogue
between the Gospel and human knowledge, the Church has progressively developed
her Social Doctrine, cultivating in history a wise patrimony marked by
theological and anthropological coherence rooted in the Christian understanding
of the person. Precisely because this patrimony arises from faith and a
corresponding vision of reality, it does not amount to a repertoire of
technical solutions or an economic or political model to be set against
others. Instead, it belongs to a different order, [15] namely that of the principles that
guide the interpretation of events and sustain an evangelical understanding of
historical processes and the choices these entail. Herein lies the proper
function of Social Doctrine, which does not claim to supplant the
responsibilities of politics or institutions, but offers itself as a foundation
for collective discernment, helping to recognize and promote whatever serves
the dignity of persons, the vitality of communities and the common good.
Social
Doctrine as a shared discernment
25. Understanding that the truth
is a gift to be shared, not a possession to be monopolized, frees the Church
from the temptation of seeking forms of presence based on power. In order to
rediscover the evangelical approach of a gentle proclamation of truth that is
not imposed, Saint
John Paul II invited us to examine honestly the times when
acquiescence was given to “intolerance and even the use of violence in the
service of truth.” [16] In this same vein, I too have
reaffirmed that the Church “does not claim to possess a monopoly on
truth,” [17] because truth is not a territory to
be defended, but a good to be shared. For his part, Pope Francis expressed
this same perspective in his striking phrase, “time is greater than
space.” [18] What matters most is not occupying
positions of power or defending cultural strongholds, but initiating good
processes and enabling them to mature. In this way, the truth of the
Gospel is not imposed from above, but grows over time within the concrete
interweaving of lives, communities and cultures. This is not a truth that fears
diversity, but instead welcomes and guides it. It does not eliminate conflicts,
but transforms them, reuniting that which history tends to scatter. This
concept can also be illustrated by the image of a multifaceted
polyhedron, [19] in which the one truth of the
Gospel is reflected from different angles.
26. This attitude of openness to
truth, which is at the same time both one and diverse, profoundly expresses the
catholicity of the Church, for she embraces the entire human family yet is also
immersed in the concrete situations of peoples and cultures. The
Second Vatican Council reminds us that, in virtue of this very
catholicity, “each part contributes its own gifts to other parts and to the
entire Church.” [20] In this way, the Church grows as a
whole and as individual communities thanks to a mutual exchange and to shared
efforts toward an ever fuller communion. It follows, then, that the People of
God are not only gathered together from many peoples, but are also intertwined
through different functions, vocations, cultures and traditions, each being
called to support and enrich one another. From this perspective, Saint Paul VI acknowledged
that, given the great variety of historical situations, it is unrealistic to
think that the Church’s Social Doctrine can propose a single response that is
valid in all contexts. [21] For this reason, he invited each
Christian community to interpret the reality in its own country with clarity
and responsibility. The fruitful tension between the universality of the
Church’s mission and her local roots is an intrinsic aspect of her life, for
she encompasses the whole world, while addressing the specific issues of each
context as the real setting in which the Gospel takes shape.
27. In light of what has been
said so far, the Church’s Social Doctrine can be seen more authentically. It is
not a handbook of principles and norms to be applied, but a process of shared
discernment. It is born from the encounter between the eternal truth of the
Gospel and the questions of history. It allows itself to be challenged by the
signs of the times, and draws nourishment from the contributions of science,
culture and human experience. Therefore, when the dignity of our brothers and
sisters is violated, when politics fails to address the tragedies of humanity,
when the economy turns against the person or science oversteps the limits of
its competence, [22] the Church — together with other
Christian denominations and believers of other religions — must make her voice
heard, not in order to dominate, but to promote communion. Understood in this
way, Social Doctrine becomes a theology of communion in history, a history
in which the Word made flesh continues to be present through dialogue, memory
and prophecy.
The
development of Social Doctrine from Leo XIII to
the present
28. Having outlined the way in
which the Church is present in history and engages in dialogue with the world,
I would now like to consider the development of Social Doctrine in the
Magisterium, which has responded to the major social transformations from the
nineteenth century to the present day. Naturally, I cannot do justice to the
full richness of this teaching, whose fundamental principles are presented in
the Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church and have been further
examined by recent Magisterial teaching. Nor can I systematically explore
everything that has been developed in the Encyclicals of my late venerable
predecessors, especially in Laudato
Si’and Fratelli
Tutti. Nevertheless, I will emphasize some essential points in order to
show how the present text stands in continuity with that tradition. I would
also like to stress how, within this tradition, the unchanging core of revealed
truths regarding the human person and society is constantly intertwined with a
renewed capacity for listening to historical situations and for responding to
contemporary issues. I will now review some of the significant stages of this
development, beginning with the period inaugurated by the Encyclical Rerum
Novarum.
The
first stages of the Church’s Social Doctrine
29. What we now call the “Social
Doctrine of the Church” is not a spontaneous product of the modern age.
Instead, it is the fruit of receiving and structuring a long tradition of
ecclesial reflection on life in society, rooted in Sacred Scripture, the Church
Fathers and the theological and legal developments of the Middle Ages and
modern era. Although the expression “Social Doctrine of the Church” was coined
by Pius XII in
1950, [23] its content began to take shape as
an organic corpus of social teaching with Leo XIII’s Encyclical Rerum
Novarum. Confronted with the “new things” of his time — the conflict
between capital and labor, the question of the workforce, and economic and
social transformations — Leo XIII did
not limit himself merely to acknowledging the unrest, but saw these situations
as an area for the Church’s pastoral mission. He exposed them to rigorous
discernment, illuminating their causes and possible solutions in the light of
the Gospel and an integral vision of the human person created in the image of
God. Saint
John Paul II regarded this approach as a “lasting paradigm” [24] of Social Doctrine: an exemplary
practice through which the Church, when faced with historical changes,
exercises her right and duty to examine social realities, make pronouncements
about them and indicate paths for finding just solutions. In this way, the
perennial contents of the faith and ancient ecclesial wisdom find expression in
a living doctrine that remains faithful to the Gospel while growing in response
to the “new things” of every era.
30. Leo XIII’s
Encyclical Rerum
Novarum constitutes a milestone in the development of the Church’s
social teaching. The document places the dignity of work and of workers at the
forefront of its reflection; affirms the right to a fair wage for oneself and
one’s family; recognizes that persons have a fundamental value that takes
precedence over capital and profit; defends private property along with its
indispensable societal role; esteems workers’ associations; and proposes forms
of cooperation between the different components of society as an alternative to
the mentality of class struggle. It is not surprising, then, that Pius XI defined
it as the “ Magna Carta” [25] of Christian social action.
In Rerum
Novarum, the Church’s ancient wisdom regarding the human person and
life in society took on a new form capable of responding to the industrial age
and offering the first major systematic framework for the Social Doctrine that
would be further developed in the following decades. While many of the
historical conditions described by Leo XIII have
changed, at least two insights remain highly relevant today: the primacy of
human labor over any mindset focused solely on finance or productivity — with
the consequent attention to the people and families most susceptible to
exploitation — and the inseparable link between proclaiming the Gospel and
pursuing a more just social order. Rerum
Novarum thereby continues to remind us that there is no authentic
evangelization that does not also affect the structures of human society.
31. Pius XI’s
Encyclical Quadragesima
Anno was published in 1931 on the fortieth anniversary of Rerum
Novarumat the height of a major global economic crisis, marking a
further step in the Church’s social teaching. Rather than limiting itself to
addressing the “workforce question,” it broadened its focus to encompass the
overall structure of the economic and political order. The
Encyclical denounces the concentration of economic power in the hands
of a few; criticizes both unlimited competition and collectivist projects that
undermine the freedom and responsibility of the individual; strongly affirms
the workers’ right to association; and reiterates the requirement that wages be
proportionate not only to performance, but also to the needs of workers and
their families. Within this framework, Pius XI systematically
formulated the principle of subsidiarity, which was to become one of the
cornerstones of Social Doctrine. According to this principle, whatever can be
carried out by individuals, families, intermediary organizations and local
communities should not be carried out by higher-level authorities. Alongside
these contributions, in various interventions of his Magisterium — from the Encyclicals Non
Abbiamo Bisogno and Mit
Brennender Sorge to Divini
Redemptoris — Pius XI clearly
recalled the societal role of private property and denounced forms of
totalitarianism that demean the dignity of the person, stifle life in society,
exalt the State above its just value and discriminate according to race. At
least three insights of his social teaching remain particularly relevant today:
the awareness that injustice concerns not only individual behavior but also
economic and institutional structures; the importance of the principle of
subsidiarity, which calls for the strengthening of the fabric of associations
and communities while avoiding further centralization of power; and the link
between the dignity of work, fair remuneration and the genuine possibility for
families to lead a dignified life.
32. In the tragic context of the
Second World War, and the years of reconstruction that followed, the teachings
of Pius XII made
a significant contribution to the development of Social Doctrine. This is
particularly true of his Christmas radio messages, in which he outlined the
framework of an international order based on justice, peace and the recognition
of human dignity. In these messages, the Pope proposed
a dialogue with society based on an appeal to natural law understood as a set
of objective principles that precede the interests of individuals and States,
and which must regulate both the internal life of nations and their mutual
relations. Pius
XII also attributed a decisive role to professional associations,
labor unions and the various intermediary organizations in the economic and
social order. He recognized these organized forms of society as an essential
safeguard for civil equilibrium and for protecting the common good. He affirmed
the need for a sound rule of law for guarding against the abuse of power, and
he recognized democracy as a means for ensuring the proper exercise of
authority. At the same time, he warned against any attempt to base law on
utility or force, recalling that an international order governed by the
advantage of the strongest exposes weaker peoples to oppression and
fundamentally undermines trust between nations. Finally, Pius XII identified
profound economic imbalances between countries as one of the factors fueling
conflicts. [26] Three guidelines remain
particularly significant for our own times, currently marked by new forms of
global power and growing inequalities: the need for law to take precedence over
interests; the awareness that economic disparities are a breeding ground for
tension and violence; and the necessity of a network of associations capable of
mediating between the individual and the State. These guidelines continue to
provide important criteria that enable Social Doctrine to interpret the
dynamics of globalization and promote a more just and peaceful international
order.
The
years of the Second
Vatican Council
33. A new phase in the Church’s
social teaching began with Saint John XXIII,
who placed a greater emphasis on the global dimension of social issues and the
language of rights. In Mater
et Magistra, he presented the Christian faith as a light capable of
uniting heaven and earth. He recalled that, while the Church’s primary mission
is the sanctification and proclamation of eternal goods, she does not neglect
the concrete needs of people’s daily lives, and is concerned with every
authentic human good. [27] Based on this unified vision of
humanity, John
XXIII emphasized that societal life requires a balance between the
initiative of citizens and groups — who are called to organize themselves and
work together — and the action of the State, which must coordinate and provide
support without stifling the freedom and responsibility of individuals. Hence,
he drew attention to fair remuneration for work, worker participation and the
growing disparities between countries. A few years later, in Pacem
in Terris, John XXIII addressed
for the first time not only the faithful, but also all people of good will,
organically linking the dignity of the person to the recognition of fundamental
rights and duties, and proposing a direction for society — at the international
level too — based on truth, justice, love and freedom. [28] In the present day, which is marked
by widespread conflict and new forms of global interdependence, the following
aspects of his thought remain particularly significant: the universal
perspective of his appeal; his reference to human rights as a shared framework;
and his conviction that lasting peace requires institutions and relations
between peoples that are inspired by the dignity of every person.
34. The
Second Vatican Council marked a turning point in the Church’s
understanding of herself in the contemporary world. In the Pastoral
Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, the
Council presented the image of a Church that is close to humanity,
engaged with the world and committed to reflecting on the concrete reality of
historical situations, rather than abstract concepts. The text addresses the
major issues of marriage and the family, economic and societal life, the
political community, war and peace. It insists that economic and institutional
structures are just only to the extent that they serve the integral development
of the person and promote the responsible participation of all. [29] The importance of this conciliar
document for the Social Doctrine of the Church lies not only in having opened
up horizons for thematic reflection, but also in its method of discernment that
invites us to interpret historical changes guided by the Gospel and human
expertise. This approach reveals that dialogue with the world is not a tactical
choice for the Church, but a concrete expression of her mission because the
Gospel, like leaven, is capable of transforming the structures of society from
within and forging paths toward a greater humanity. The Declaration Dignitatis
Humanae can be included in the same context. Here, the Council
recognized that religious freedom is a fundamental right grounded in human
dignity that must be guaranteed by law so as to prevent people from being
forced to act against their conscience or impeded from seeking and professing
the truth both privately and publicly. [30] This principle is highly relevant
today and continues to provide Social Doctrine with decisive criteria for
protecting individuals and building pluralistic and peaceful societies.
35. During the Pontificate
of Saint Paul VI,
an understanding of peace emerged that was not reduced to the mere absence of
war, but took shape within the scope of integral human development. In Populorum
Progressio, he described development as a transition from less humane
to more humane living conditions. He further understood it as a process that
concerns “each person and the whole person,” [31] that is every dimension of the
person and all people without exception. For this reason, Paul VI could
affirm that development understood in this way is in reality “the new name for
peace,” [32] because it aims to eradicate the
roots of injustice and conflict and create opportunities for a more dignified
life for all. The establishment of the Pontifical Commission Iustitia
et Pax should also be seen in this light as an attempt to give stable
form to this insight at the ecclesial and international levels, while bearing
in mind the growing gap between rich and poor countries and the need for
policies that genuinely promote more humane living conditions for all.
36. In Octogesima
Adveniens, written on the occasion of the eightieth anniversary
of Rerum
Novarum, Paul
VI applied this perspective to postindustrial society, marked by
urbanization, new forms of poverty and rapid cultural changes that called into
question the future of individuals and communities. Paul VI believed
that although the Gospel was proclaimed, written and lived out in a historical
and cultural context very different from our own, its message was not
“outdated.” [33] Instead, it offers a vision of the
human person, relationships, authority and the common good that is still
capable of guiding economic, political and cultural choices today. In other
words, the Gospel remains relevant because it provides the criteria for
recognizing what humanizes or dehumanizes and what liberates or oppresses in
ever-changing situations. For the Social Doctrine of the Church, Paul VI’s most
demanding legacy is precisely this: as long as there are people in the world
who are excluded from the development befitting human dignity, the Christian
community cannot be content with a theoretical proclamation of peace. Rather,
beginning where people are marginalized, it must allow the Gospel to pass
judgment on those economic and political structures which — as John Paul II would
later remind us — can become veritable “structures of sin.” [34] As a result, no person or people
will be treated as expendable in the processes of development.
37. The rich social teaching
of Saint
John Paul II lies at the crossroads of the crisis of the great
ideological systems of the twentieth century and the onset of economic
globalization. His Encyclical Laborem
Exercens, written ninety years after the publication of Rerum
Novarum, opened up a new avenue for reflection on work. It presents
fair wages as the concrete means of verifying the justness of the entire
socioeconomic system because they reveal whether the worker is treated as a
person or merely as a cost of production. [35] Work is not considered simply as a
problem to be dealt with or a means of generating income, but a fundamental
good for the person, a principle of economic activity and the key to the entire
societal question. Through work, human beings bring their freedom, creativity
and capacity for cooperation into play, contributing to the cultural and moral
elevation of society. [36] In light of this, the various kinds
of job insecurity, fragmented career paths and automation must not be evaluated
solely in terms of efficiency, but in relation to the dignity of the worker,
the right to sufficient remuneration and the genuine possibility of
participating in society.
38. With his Encyclical Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis, marking the twentieth anniversary of Populorum
Progressio, John Paul II reexamined
the scourge of underdevelopment. He acknowledged the failure of numerous
attempts to accelerate the economic development of poor peoples and to assist
them in the process of industrialization, noting the persistent and indeed
widening gap between the world’s North and South. [37] He also denounced the economic,
financial and commercial mechanisms that, managed by the strongest economies,
structurally favor their own interests while stifling weaker economies, and he
asked that they be subjected to serious ethical, not just technical,
scrutiny. [38] In this context, solidarity was
understood as a concrete, shared responsibility among individuals, peoples and
nations — a form of social friendship or political charity oriented toward the
“civilization of love” proposed by Paul VI. [39]
39. On the centenary of Rerum
Novarum, the Encyclical Centesimus
Annus offered a reflection on the collapse of the Soviet system
and the rise of democracy and the market economy. Saint John Paul II reiterated Pius XII’s message
that the Church values democracy insofar as it guarantees the effective
participation of citizens, enables them to elect and peacefully replace their
leaders and prevents power from being monopolized by small elite groups
motivated by particular or ideological interests. [40] Likewise, the Church recognizes the
positive potential of the market and private initiative only if they remain
subordinate to the moral law and are guided by the principle of solidarity,
without sacrificing the most vulnerable to the rationale of profit. [41] This adds a particularly relevant
legacy to the Social Doctrine of the Church. The affirmation of the link
between the dignity of work, solidarity among peoples, a critical assessment of
democracy and the market economy continues to provide criteria for evaluating
new forms of exploitation, exclusion and crises in political representation.
40. In his social
Encyclical Caritas
in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI sought
to reassess and expand the concept of development presented in Populorum
Progressio, interpreting it in light of globalization. He noted that
such development should translate into “real growth, of benefit to everyone and
genuinely sustainable.” [42] That is, economic progress that is
truly inclusive and respectful of the limits of creation. He reaffirmed,
however, that in wealthy countries new kinds of poverty were emerging as well
as unprecedented forms of exclusion, while, in poorer regions, small minorities
lived in consumerist affluence alongside situations of dehumanizing
poverty. [43] In addition, he observed that the
new global economic and financial system, marked by a vast mobility of capital
and means of production, had reduced the political power of States and their
ability to influence economic processes. [44] For this reason, Benedict XVI reiterated
that economic activity cannot claim to solve social problems simply through the
expansion of a commercial mentality, but must be ordered toward the common
good, for which the political community bears its own irreplaceable
responsibility. [45]
41. Benedict XVI placed
charity at the center of his analysis, stating that it “is at the heart of the
Church’s Social Doctrine,” [46] provided that it is always united
with truth. He also noted with concern that there is a tendency to dismiss
moral relevance precisely within the social, legal, political and economic
fields. The originality of his contribution lies in showing that development,
justice, institutions and the market are not neutral realities, but spaces
where charity in truth must find historical expression. This teaching is
especially relevant today in light of growing inequalities, pressures in the
financial markets, the environmental crisis and a lack of trust in politics. It
stands as an invitation to evaluate every model of development on its ability
to be inclusive and sustainable, to rebuild the relationship between economics
and politics on the common good, and to acknowledge the critical and generative
role of charity in public life.
42. Pope Francis’ social
teaching develops along the lines of Gaudium
et Spes, which invites us to view history through the lens of human
hopes and vulnerabilities, and to bring them into dialogue with the Gospel.
This approach emerges with particular clarity in Evangelii
Gaudium, where he states that the Christian proclamation has an
intrinsic social dimension and calls for a Church capable of listening to the
cry of the poor, migrants and victims of new forms of slavery. Francis’ insistence
on a synodal Church, a Church that “walks together,” that seeks to read the
signs of the times in the light of the Gospel and allows herself to be
evangelized by the poor with whom she shares history, also fits into this
perspective. [47]
43. In Laudato
Si’, Francis provided
the first significant systematic treatment of the environmental crisis in a
social Encyclical, demonstrating that it is not an isolated issue, but rather
the ecological aspect of the contemporary socio-economic crisis. His proposal
for an integral ecology combined care for our common home with the preferential
option for the poor, and strongly affirmed that “the cry of the earth and the
cry of the poor” [48] cannot be separated. In this light,
the universal destination of goods was brought to the forefront, alongside the
critique of a technocratic paradigm that seeks to reduce everything to an
object to be dominated; the defense of human labor threatened by the mindset of
waste; and the need for intergenerational justice. Finally, he advocated for
genuine dialogue between those working in the fields of politics and finance,
so that neither would become self-referential.
44. Faced with the breakdown of
the social fabric, a “world war being fought piecemeal,” individualistic
globalization and the impact of the pandemic on community ties, Francis, in Fratelli
Tutti , sought to revive the dream of a humanity that
opts for social friendship and universal fraternity. He proposed a culture of
encounter, a “better politics” capable of seeking the common good, paths of
reconciliation and a world that ensures “land, housing and work for all.” [49] Finally, in Dilexit
Nos, he showed that these significant social endeavors cannot be separated
from a personal relationship with Christ. Turning to the word of God, he
reminded us that the truest response to the love of the heart of Jesus is
concrete love for our brothers and sisters, and affirmed that “there is no
greater way for us to return love for love.” [50]
Interpreting
history in the light of faith
45. Considering this historical
overview, it is clear that the Church’s Social Doctrine is not the result of a
project devised at a desk, but rather the product of a patient process in which
each pontiff — together with the Second
Vatican Council — made a unique contribution in light of the “new
things” of each particular era. In response to the challenges of their time,
each one interpreted historical changes according to the Gospel, bringing to
light different aspects of a single heritage: 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. The result is a
harmonious, though not always linear, development that is marked by different
emphases, progressive insights, and, at times, changes in perspective that do
not break with what came before, but allow its implications to mature. If today
we can speak of a corpus of shared principles and criteria, it
is because this faith-based interpretation of history has never been
interrupted, remaining ever open to the challenges posed by each
generation. It is to the great principles of Social Doctrine, which direct
the discernment of believers in their personal and public lives, that I now
wish to turn our attention, in order to grasp more effectively their internal
coherence and capacity to guide our times.
FOUNDATIONS
AND PRINCIPLES OF
THE SOCIAL DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH
46. The Social Doctrine of the
Church is a living reality, in dialogue with history, cultures and sciences. At
the same time, it enshrines a core set of unchanging truths. For this reason,
it can be considered a form of wisdom that is capable of guiding the personal
and societal lives of believers even today. In this second chapter, I would
like to focus on some of the foundations and principles of the Church’s Social
Doctrine that will help us to interpret the “new things” of our time,
particularly in view of the inherent dignity of the human person. In order to
protect the human person in the age of artificial intelligence, I believe that
today we must once again reflect on the common good, the universal destination
of goods, subsidiarity, solidarity and social justice. I am convinced that a
harmonious relationship between these principles requires that they be
considered collectively, so that it becomes clear how they relate to and
complement each other.
47. In offering these reflections,
my hope is, first and foremost, to help the lay faithful and people of goodwill
rediscover their duty of implementing the above-mentioned principles in their
daily lives, family relationships, work and involvement in society. Thus, they
will let themselves be inspired by the aim of embodying God’s love in the
concrete events of life. At the same time, I would like to encourage academic
institutions and universities to give fresh impetus to these principles, and to
apply them in a way that will be relevant and effective in addressing the
digital revolution. In this way, theological and philosophical enquiry will be
able to further explore and support the Church’s pastoral journey, and
contribute to the Magisterium’s task of enlightening the consciences of the
faithful and guiding their efforts to make the life of our societies more just
and fraternal.
The
foundations of Social Doctrine
The
human person: image of the Triune God
48. The Church’s Social Doctrine
brings us to the very heart of our faith: the mystery of the living God,
revealed in Jesus Christ, who, as a communion of Persons — Father, Son and
Holy Spirit — is love itself in relationship, expressed in the mutual gift
of self and in sharing with the world. [51] As the Council recalled, human
persons are called to communion with God and “can fully discover their true
selves only in sincere self-giving.” [52] Indeed their deepest vocation is to
enter into the Trinitarian dynamic of love received and shared.
49. If the mystery of God as Love
is the source of Social Doctrine, we see its most concrete expression in the
face of Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Word. By becoming man, the Son of God
enters our history and takes on human flesh, bringing with him the love that
unites him to the Father and the Holy Spirit. In him, “the mystery of humanity
truly becomes clear” [53] because his humanity is completely
free, open to others, capable of building healthy and beautiful relationships
and committed to the total gift of self. Those who believe in him are engaged
in the great work of renewal that began with the mystery of his passion, death
and resurrection, and they cooperate in building up the Kingdom of God,
learning to embrace all men and women as brothers and sisters, children of one
Father. In this way, both the proclamation of the Gospel and Christian life,
guided by the action of the Holy Spirit, tend to bring about social consequences
in the world. [54]
50. At the heart of the Christian
understanding of the human person lies the great biblical affirmation that men
and women are created in the image and likeness (cf. Gen 1:26-27)
of the Triune God. Created for relationship, every human person is planned and
willed by God to enter into communion with him, with others and with creation.
Human dignity does not depend on a person’s abilities, wealth or position in
life, nor on the right or wrong choices made; instead, it is a gift that
precedes and transcends each person, endowed by God as an expression of his
unfailing love. For this reason, the human person always remains the “way for
the Church” [55] and the heart of every authentic
path of integral human development. [56]
The
equal dignity of all human beings
51. Saint John Paul II stated
that, “this heightened sense of the dignity of the human person and of his or
her uniqueness, and of the respect due to the journey of conscience, certainly
represents one of the positive achievements of modern culture.” [57] This statement follows the line
already laid out by the Second
Vatican Council, which had noted a growing recognition of the sublime
dignity of all persons, their superiority over material things and their
universal and inviolable rights and duties. [58] It is important to ensure that this
growth in appreciation of human dignity is not obscured by the pressure of new
ideologies or very powerful interests in today’s world. Among these ideologies,
I consider particularly insidious the one that suggests that every person must
earn or justify his or her own worth, to the point of attributing greater value
to those who are more efficient or effective. From this perspective, persons
end up being reduced to a means of achieving results, a resource to be used and
exploited, and are no longer recognized as a proper end in themselves who
should never be instrumentalized. The value of persons, however, does not
depend on what they achieve or produce. There are rights that apply to everyone
simply by virtue of being human, and no human power can legitimately deny or
arbitrarily limit them. [59]
52. When we speak of dignity, we
do not always use the word in the same way. Sometimes we refer to moral
dignity, namely the way in which a person directs his or her choices and
actions. At other times, we think of social dignity, which refers to a person’s
living conditions and the concrete respect received from society. In other
cases, we refer to existential dignity, meaning the way in which a person
perceives his or her own worth and the value of life. These aspects of dignity
can be enhanced or diminished. In addition to these notions, there is also the
more profound and important level of ontological dignity. This is the dignity
that belongs to every human being simply by virtue of existing, of having been
willed, created and loved by God. [60] No sin, failure, humiliation or
exclusion can diminish the profound value of a human life that God has willed
and called into being. [61]
53. The fundamental dignity of
each person, therefore, is neither acquired nor earned, nor does it need to be
justified. The recent Declaration Dignitas
Infinita offers a summary of the Church’s thinking on this
subject: “Every human person possesses an infinite dignity, inalienably
grounded in his or her very being, which prevails in and beyond every
circumstance, state, or situation the person may ever encounter” [62] — in other words, always and
without exception. The dignity of every human being can be described as
infinite, as Saint
John Paul II stated, [63] for two reasons: first, because the
love of God, who calls us to friendship with him, is infinite; and second, his
love is absolutely unconditional, in the sense that, even if we search
endlessly, we will never find anything that can erase or deny it.
The
supreme value of human rights
54. The Church gratefully
acknowledges that “the movement toward the identification and proclamation of
human rights is one of the most significant attempts to respond effectively to
the inescapable demands of human dignity.” [64] In this regard, Saint John Paul II stated
that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, proclaimed by the
United Nations on 10 December 1948, remains one of the highest expressions of
the human conscience of our time. [65] It is “a milestone on the long and
difficult path of the human race.” [66] For this reason, from the Christian
perspective, 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.
55. Human rights are inviolable,
since they are “inherent in the human person and in human dignity.” [67] Consequently, they are universal
and inalienable. [68] Precisely because they are grounded
in the common dignity of every man and woman, they have practical consequences
and legal effects, for “it would be vain to proclaim human rights if, at the
same time, everything were not done to ensure the duty of respecting them,
respect by all, in all places and for all.” [69] Among these rights, the first is
the right to life, from conception to its natural end, [70] without which it is impossible to exercise
any other right. When this fundamental right is denied — as in the cases
of induced abortion, killing of the innocent and euthanasia — we are faced
with choices that the Church considers gravely wrong. [71]
56. Looking at our own time, we
cannot ignore the fact that the protection of human rights has been exposed to
two particularly serious dangers. The first is that these rights are declared
in a purely formal sense, while technological progress continues alongside
covert or overt violations of human dignity. The second, which is in fact the
root of the first, is the inability to recognize the foundation of their
universality, since we have abandoned “the search for the solid foundations
sustaining our decisions and our laws.” [72] Pope Francis urged
us not to underestimate this last issue. He pointed out that when reason
seriously examines human nature, it is capable of discovering values that apply
to everyone, since they derive from human nature. If this task of inquiry were
abandoned, it is conceivable that rights considered untouchable today might, in
the future, end up being questioned or denied by those in power, perhaps after
having obtained only an apparent consensus from populations that are frightened
or manipulated. [73]
57. Along with a greater
awareness of the value of every human person and their rights, recognition of
minority rights has also grown. Yet, there is still a long way to go to ensure
that the rights of a great many, namely women, are equally and genuinely
guaranteed throughout the world. It is a fact that “doubly poor are those women
who endure situations of exclusion, mistreatment and violence, since they are
frequently less able to defend their rights.” [74] It is, therefore, not enough to
state simply that men and women have equal dignity and rights; it is necessary
that this be reflected in concrete decisions, such as in laws, access to
employment, education, social and political responsibilities, and the way society
listens to and values women’s contributions. As long as this gap persists, we
cannot say that society truly and fully recognizes that women have the same
dignity as men.
58. It is individuals that
matter, each and every person, together with their families. Social movements,
communal ideologies and grand political proclamations in favor of a population
are worthless unless they lead to the flourishing of persons — men and
women — with their inalienable rights. Similarly, it is not enough to extol
individual freedom or private enterprise if we then allow a multitude of people
to continue living without decent work, protections or access to basic
necessities.
The
principles of Social Doctrine
The
principle of the common good
59. Recognizing that every man
and woman possesses an inalienable dignity, together with rights that no human
power can betray or nullify, requires us to shape the way we live together,
including our economic and political choices, and the makeup of our cities.
From this arises the first major principle of Social Doctrine that I wish to
highlight: the common good. We can describe it as the social expression of the
dignity recognized in every person. When Benedict XVI referred
to the non-negotiable values that the Church must always defend, he included
among them “the promotion of the common good.” [75] For a Christian, going beyond the
narrow confines of one’s own interests and committing oneself, within the
limits of one’s ability, to the common good is a non-negotiable value, as is
the promotion of life.
60. The
Second Vatican Council affirmed that the common good consists in “the
sum total of social conditions which allow people, either as groups or as
individuals, to reach their fulfillment more fully and more easily.” [76] This definition provides us with a
valuable initial reference point, because the common good cannot be reduced to
a mere list of conditions or institutions. It is not the sum total of
individual benefits, nor the intersection of their particular interests; it is
a greater good that belongs to everyone, and it can only be achieved, nurtured
and protected by our collective efforts. We can say that social action reaches
its fullness when it is directed toward this shared good, just as a person’s
moral action finds its fulfillment in the choice of the true good. [77]
61. In this sense, we can say
that the whole is “greater than the sum of its parts” [78] and that, for this very reason,
“the mere sum of individual interests is not capable of generating a better
world for the whole human family.” [79] Indeed, it is an illusion to think
that simply pursuing one’s own progress without caring for others is sufficient
for contributing to the good of all. This view ignores the inherent and
specific value of the common good, which is the result of an
“interdependence” [80] that creates a network of social
good that expands and has an impact on people. The common good is a “plus,” the
result of interaction and mutual influence that connects various actions,
initiatives, efforts and decisions. If we were to add up the individual goods,
we could not explain the existence of this “plus” that transcends them and, at
the same time, enriches them.
62. It is the pursuit of the
common good that gives life to a people, understood not as a mere collection of
individuals, but as a living reality in which people learn to recognize that
they themselves are interconnected and jointly responsible for the res
publica. In this sense, every person contributes to the building up of
one’s people through “a slow and arduous effort calling for a desire for
integration and a willingness to achieve this through the growth of a peaceful
and multifaceted culture of encounter.” [81] Working together for the common good
means having a shared vision. It is clear that there are many ideological and
practical differences among people, as well as differing interests and frequent
disagreements, but that does not mean it is impossible to engage in dialogue to
establish a set of basic agreements that enable the creation of a shared
vision, upon which everyone can move forward together.
63. It is the State’s
responsibility to ensure cohesion, unity and the proper organization of civil
society, so that the common good can be pursued with everyone’s contribution.
In practical terms, this means that public authorities have the delicate duty
to “harmonize the different sectoral interests with the requirements of
justice,” [82] seeking a balance between
individual interests and the common good, without leaving behind the most
vulnerable. When politics abandons a long-term perspective and reduces itself
to short-term calculations or sterile polarizations, then the language of the
common good loses credibility, and, at the same time, social inequalities and
divisions grow.
64. This also applies to
international politics. As the divide between nations widens, a mentality of
confrontation and aggression begins to take hold, and the difficult path toward
a more united and fraternal world suffers new and painful setbacks. In this
context, speaking of a shared journey toward a more just development for the
entire human family “sounds like madness.” [83] Yet we must not lose hope. I invite
everyone to conceive of ways of cooperating and of more effective international
institutions, capable of safeguarding the global common good without
compromising the legitimate diversity of peoples and nations. Indeed, the
promotion of the common good can never be separated from respect for the right
of peoples to exist, to preserve their own identity and to contribute their
unique qualities to the family of nations. [84] Moreover, any attempt or plan to
eliminate or subjugate a nation is gravely immoral and therefore unacceptable.
The principle of the universal destination of goods
65. “Among the numerous
implications of the common good, immediate significance is taken on by the
principle of the universal destination of goods.” [85] First of all, this principle
reminds us that the earth’s goods — soil, water, air and natural resources
— are given by God to the entire human family to sustain the lives of all,
and that every person has an inherent right to the use of such goods, both now
and in the future. Saint John Paul II recalled
that, “God gave the earth to the whole human race for the sustenance of all its
members, without excluding or favoring anyone.” [86] Consequently, “it is not in
accordance with God’s plan to use this gift in such a way that its benefits
accrue solely to a select few.” [87] Today, we are called to recognize
that this universal destination applies not only to material goods, but also to
immaterial and cultural goods.
66. Certainly there is a right to
private property, which has its own specific meaning and purpose, yet it is
always subordinate to the universal destination of goods. According
to John Paul
II, this subordination is the golden rule of social conduct and the “first
principle of the whole ethical and social order.” [88] In the Church’s tradition, property
has been viewed as a means of protecting and managing goods so that they may
better serve the common good. Since “the Christian tradition has never
recognized the right to private property as absolute or inviolable,” [89] its social function must not be
considered a mere theological opinion, but a doctrine of the Church, already
present in Sacred Scripture and in the writings of the Church Fathers. For this
reason, Pope
Francis reminded us that solidarity, when lived out in its
fullest sense, also means “to restore to the poor what belongs to them.” [90]
67. Today, among the goods that
are universally intended for everyone, we must also include new forms of
property, such as patents, algorithms, digital platforms, technological
infrastructure and data. In a context where the wealth of nations depends
increasingly on knowledge and technology, when these goods remain concentrated
in the hands of a few, without adequate forms of sharing and access, a new
imbalance is created that contradicts the universal destination of goods. In
turn, it widens the gap between the included and the excluded, between those
who can participate in the digital revolution and those who remain on the
margins. Furthermore, care for our common home and our responsibility toward
the poor and future generations require that the use of the goods of creation
and the new possibilities offered by technology be regulated in such a way as
to respect the environment, avoid waste and prevent new forms of exploitation.
68. The principle of subsidiarity
stems from the very same understanding of the human person that has guided our
reflection on dignity and the common good. If every woman and man is called to
take ownership of his or her own life and to contribute to the formation of
society, then social institutions must also respect and support this
responsibility. The Social Doctrine of the Church refers to subsidiarity as the
principle according to which the role of individuals, families, local
communities and intermediary organizations should not be supplanted by
higher-level authorities. Moreover, higher-level institutions must recognize,
protect and promote the freedom and creativity of lower-level entities,
coordinating their contributions so that they can cooperate effectively for the
common good. [91]
69. Starting with Leo XIII and
the beginnings of modern social teaching, the Church has insisted that neither
the individual nor the family should be subsumed by the State, but should be
allowed to act freely, as far as possible, without harming the common
good. [92] Saint John Paul II took
up and developed this perspective, noting that the political community is at
the service of civil society and that the State must protect the common good,
intervening when necessary, but without permanently supplanting the
responsibilities of intermediary organizations and social institutions. [93] Subsidiarity does not justify the
State’s disengagement, but rather guides its actions. Indeed, public
intervention is necessary precisely to enable all social actors to fulfill
their mission without being stifled. It is the responsibility of the political
community to create the conditions that allow individuals, families,
associations and intermediary organizations to fulfil their mission in society,
without being replaced or reduced to mere facilitators. [94]
70. This principle encourages us
to move beyond any form of paternalistic or welfare-based management of
societal life, but instead to promote a culture of shared responsibility in a
State that values citizens’ initiative, and a civil society capable of forging
bonds and mobilizing energies in the service of the common good. In accordance
with the principle of subsidiarity, decisions are made at the closest level
possible to the persons involved, thereby fostering community life and avoiding
people being presented with decisions that have already been taken. In this way
people can participate in the decision-making process. When families,
associations, local communities, volunteer organizations and those in the
so-called “third sector” are recognized and supported, social life becomes more
accessible to people, services become more attuned to real needs, and solutions
are more creative and respectful of the dignity of each person. [95]
71. The principle of subsidiarity
applies especially in the context of the digital revolution. Here, the highest
level is not the State, but rather major economic and technological actors that
exercise de facto power over the conditions of everyday life.
This level, which monopolizes expertise, data and decision-making authority,
involves companies and platforms that define conditions for access, rules of
visibility, forms of interaction, and even economic opportunities. The
principle of subsidiarity requires that such processes not be imposed from
above in an opaque and unilateral manner, but instead be directed toward the common
good with transparency, accountability and meaningful forms of participation
(including independent checks, transparency regarding algorithms, equitable
access to data and avenues for recourse). [96]
72. In this context, States and
transnational institutions are called to ensure fair rules and effective
safeguards, so that local communities, intermediary organizations, schools, universities,
religious institutions and associations have a voice and can contribute to the
discernment of choices that affect people’s daily lives, such as employment,
access to services, data management and digital environments. When it comes to
decisions regarding economic flows and digital platforms, as well as the
governance of data and algorithms, we cannot allow a handful of actors to
dictate these processes on their own; instead, we must build forms of
cooperation that respect the various levels of the global community and make
them jointly responsible for the common good. [97]
73. Having considered the common
good and subsidiarity, I would like to reflect on the principle of solidarity.
This emerges from a vision of the human person generated by faith, namely that
every human being is created in the image of God and is part of a network of
relationships that bind him or her to others, to specific populations and to
creation. Saint
Paul VI observed that the obligations of solidarity, justice and
charity are rooted in the human and supernatural fraternal bonds that unite
individuals and populations. [98] Fraternity is not merely an
aspiration of believers, but is a social and political reality to be embodied
in communal choices and endeavors. Solidarity, then, is the concrete
recognition that the future of each individual is connected to the future of
all; indeed, “no one is saved alone.” [99] The close link between subsidiarity
and solidarity thereby becomes evident. It is thus clear that there is an
intimate link between subsidiarity and solidarity. When subsidiarity is not
linked to solidarity, it ends up becoming merely the protection of particular
interests; when solidarity is not supported by subsidiarity, it degenerates
into a form of welfare that does not foster responsibility. [100] This interconnectedness also
pertains to the responsibility of authentic participation. Solidarity is
expressed when each person, both individually and collectively, takes part in
the life of the community — by staying informed, engaging with others,
making their voice heard and contributing to public decisions and choices
— while also assuming real responsibility so that the common good is
achieved through shared decision-making.
74. In many areas, we are already
experiencing a kind of “ de facto solidarity,” for our lives
are intertwined; digital networks connect people and communities across the
world in real time, and global economies and communications mean that events in
one place have a far-reaching impact. This network of relationships, however,
only constitutes solidarity in the fullest sense of the word when it becomes a
conscious choice. Faith invites us to see this reality as a call: we are not
merely neighbors to one another, but entrusted to each other, so that each of
us may take responsibility, as best we can, for the lives and wounds of our
brothers and sisters. Solidarity arises precisely when we decide not to remain
indifferent to what happens to our neighbor but instead to transform
unavoidable bonds — economic, cultural and technological — into paths
of sharing, cooperation and mutual care, embracing the idea of “thinking and
acting in terms of community.” [101]
75. The Church’s social teaching
emphasizes that solidarity is both a principle and a virtue. As a principle, it
expresses the objective order of relationships among individuals, groups and
peoples, pointing to an awareness of interdependence whereby the good of each
person depends on the good of others. As a virtue, it requires a “firm and
persevering determination” [102] to strive for the common good,
with particular attention to those most in need. Pope Francis noted
that solidarity is “a way of making history” [103] that creates communities and not
just masses of individuals. For this reason, it requires a modest and shared
way of life, the ability to forego immediate benefits in order to create
opportunities for others in the future, and a willingness to challenge habits
and privileges — including those related to digital consumption and the
use of technology — when they prevent others from living with dignity.
76. In a world marked by
increasingly close connections between people, communities and nations,
solidarity also takes on a global dimension. Benedict XVI strongly
emphasized the link between development, justice and responsibility toward
future generations, stating that authentic development requires solidarity and
inter-generational justice, [104] as well as an awareness of the
bonds that unite us to the natural environment. Today, this responsibility also
extends to digital and information infrastructure. Like the natural
environment, the “digital ecosystem” can be preserved or exploited, shared or
monopolized. Solidarity demands that decisions regarding data, algorithms,
platforms and artificial intelligence take into account not only the immediate
benefit for a few, but also the impact on all peoples and on future
generations.
The principle of social
justice
77. For the Christian community,
social justice is a concrete way of following Jesus and remaining faithful to
the Gospel. In the New Testament, Jesus proclaims the “good news to the poor”
( Lk 4:18) and identifies himself with the lowly, the sick,
the imprisoned and strangers (cf. Mt 25:31-46). He thus
teaches us that justice is born from, and fulfilled in, fraternity, because the
way we approach and relate to the least among us becomes, in concrete terms,
the measure of our relationship with God and with our brothers and sisters.
Justice, however, concerns not only the behavior of individuals, but also the
way in which the structures of society are conceived and organized. In this
regard, the
Second Vatican Council reminds us that every institution is called to
serve the human person and his or her dignity. [105] Social justice is, therefore,
characterized by the capacity of a social, economic and political order to
allow everyone — particularly the weakest — to live a truly dignified
life, without leaving anyone behind.
78. The recent Magisterium has
insisted that social justice begins with the least among us. Saint John Paul II spoke
of a preferential option for the poor [106] that must guide both personal and
societal choices, while Pope Francis denounced
a “‘throw away’ culture” [107] that generates ever new forms of
exclusion. From this perspective, social justice requires us to look at
individuals and communities, starting with the most vulnerable: the poor,
migrants, refugees, internally displaced persons, victims of violence and
people living in urban or existential peripheries.
79. The idea of “social justice”
helps us recognize that injustices do not arise solely from the wrong choices
of individuals, but also from structures, mechanisms and economic and cultural
systems that produce inequality almost automatically. Saint John Paul II spoke
in this vein of structures of sin [108] that oppose God’s will and require
a commitment to personal and social conversion. In this perspective, justice is
not merely about the fairer distribution of resources or the correction of
current injustices, but also assumes a restorative dimension. It aims to mend
broken bonds and reintegrate those who have been excluded, taking into account
the wounds caused by injustices, such as wars, colonialism, racial or gender
discrimination, violence against entire peoples and exploitation. This may
include restoring dignity and a voice to those who have been ignored, fostering
processes of healing for collective memory, opposing discriminatory laws and
practices, and providing concrete support to those who still bear the
consequences of wrongs suffered in the past.
80. In this day and age, social
justice must also grapple with the environment shaped by digital technologies.
The spread of global networks, platforms and artificial intelligence systems is
changing the way we obtain information, communicate and access services.
Justice demands that we prevent the emergence of new forms of exclusion and
deprivation of freedoms: individuals and peoples hindered or denied access to
basic technologies, communities exposed to invasive surveillance and social
groups penalized by opaque algorithms that perpetuate prejudice and
discrimination. In the digital age, a just social order guarantees everyone
equal access to opportunities, protects the youngest and weakest members of
society, combats hate and misinformation and subjects the use of data and
technology to public oversight, so that the guiding principle is not solely
profit but the dignity of every person and the common good of all people.
81. A litmus test for social
justice today is the treatment of migrants, refugees and those forced to move
due to poverty, violence, climate change and environmental disasters. The way a
society treats them reveals whether its sense of justice is driven by fear or
by the spirit of fraternity. Pope Francis urged
us to see migrants not simply as a problem to be managed, but as a living image
of the People of God on the move. [109] They are people with dignity,
resources and dreams, who have the right to be treated with respect and to ask
to become active members of the societies that welcome them. Social justice in
this area entails at least two complementary commitments. On the one hand, this
means protecting the rightful hopes of those forced to leave by ensuring safe
and legal routes, dignified conditions for receiving them, and genuine pathways
to integration. On the other hand, it means promoting the right to remain in
one’s homeland in peace and security by addressing the root causes that force
people to migrate, including those linked to economic injustices and the
climate crisis. When these rights are respected, migration can become an
opportunity for encounter and mutual enrichment among peoples.
82. In his Encyclical Populorum
Progressio, Paul VI affirmed
that development is authentic only if it is “integral,” meaning that it can
“foster the development of each man and of the whole man.” [110] In the decades that followed, the
Social Doctrine of the Church reprised and reflected on this expression in
order to indicate the practical ways in which the noble principles
— dignity, the common good, the universal destination of goods,
subsidiarity, solidarity and social justice — are implemented in real
life. By “integral human development,” we mean a process in which the growth of
individuals and peoples encompasses all dimensions of existence and opens the
future to subsequent generations as well.
83. For individuals as well as
for nations, development is both a duty and a right. Minimum conditions are
required for enabling every person and people to flourish in accord with their
dignity, without being kept in a state of dependence or excluded from access to
necessary goods. Development is truly human when it places people at the center
instead of the accumulation of wealth, and when it concerns peoples as well as
individuals. Justice demands the recognition of the rights of society and the
rights of peoples, and includes a responsibility toward future generations.
Development is not truly human if it increases consumption for some while
shifting costs and burdens onto others, or relegates entire regions to subordinate
roles, preventing them from realizing their full potential. [111] Development is integral when it is
not limited to the economic sphere, but promotes quality of life in its
spiritual, cultural, moral and relational dimensions, while respecting our
common home, the diversity of peoples and their ways of life. [112]
84. Today, the concept of
integral human development is a benchmark for the evaluation of integral
ecology, which has become an indispensable dimension of the Church’s Social
Doctrine. Indeed, the quality of development is measured by the ability to
integrate justice toward people and the care of our common home, and to promote
dignified living conditions, access to necessary goods, just social relations,
care of creation and consideration for future generations. It follows that true
progress is not what increases the wellbeing of some by degrading ecosystems,
shifting costs onto the most disadvantaged communities, or compromising the
living conditions of those who will follow us.
85. Seen in this light, integral
human development is the framework through which we can interpret the changes
of our time, including those brought about by the digital revolution.
Technological innovations, including artificial intelligence, are not neutral,
for they can either foster participation and justice or exacerbate inequality,
control and exclusion. For this reason, they must be evaluated by asking a
crucial question: Do they truly help individuals and peoples to become more
humane and fraternal, while respecting our common home and future generations?
It is here that the principles of Social Doctrine become concrete criteria for
discernment regarding the issues which we will address in the following
chapters.
86. In conclusion, I would like
to touch on a point that is particularly close to my heart. Social Doctrine is
not merely a message addressed to society; it is also an examination of
conscience for the Church — a home and school of communion that is always
called to ensure that the principles outlined in this chapter are applied,
especially within its own structures. In the ecclesial context, the common good
takes the form of a synodal approach for mission at the service of the
Kingdom. Indeed, the Church is the “communitarian and historical subject
of synodality and mission.” [113] This requires attention to the way
decisions are taken and responsibilities are exercised. The Final
Document of the Synod identifies a culture of transparency,
accountability and evaluation as key practices for missionary
transformation. [114]
87. With this in mind,
subsidiarity becomes the guiding principle for governance and pastoral life. It
involves recognizing and supporting the faithful and intermediary ecclesial
organizations as they carry out their responsibilities, valuing charisms and
skills and avoiding any form of paternalism that suffocates evangelical
freedom. In practical terms, the participation of the baptized in
decision-making processes and their shared responsibility in the mission are
achieved through genuine, rather than merely nominal, participatory
bodies. [115]
88. For the Christian community,
solidarity finds its source in the mystery of Christ and is nourished by the
Eucharist. Solidarity emerges from communion in faith and the Sacraments:
Baptism and Confirmation unite us in Christ, so that we may become one Body and
one Spirit, one heart and one soul (cf. Eph 4:4; Acts 4:32).
The Eucharist, which is the sacrament of unity, nurtures our belonging to the
Body of Christ and teaches us how to share. The diverse sensibilities present
in the Church and the strong convictions that animate each person are a source
of richness if they remain anchored in the certainty that unity is a gift
received and a responsibility to be fulfilled.
89. Living out justice in the
Church means purifying ecclesial relationships and structures from distortions
that give rise to inequality, lack of transparency and abuse of power. In this
regard, listening to the victims of spiritual, economic, institutional, sexual
and power-based abuse, as well as abuses of conscience, is an integral part of
a journey toward justice, which includes acknowledging the harm done, just
reparation and taking steps to prevent it from happening again. Every power is
at the service of communion and mission. All authority is at the service of the
People of God. This ministry of service is expressed not only through our faith
celebrated and lived in the Sacraments, and in the adoption of a synodal style,
but also in the concrete sharing of goods. Following the example of the early
Church, ecclesial resources need to be shared so that no one among us may be in
need (cf. Acts 4:34), and so that their administration may
support the mission of proclaiming the Gospel to the poorest. Regular
assessments of the exercise of ministerial responsibilities should be
encouraged, not as judgments on individuals, but as tools for learning and
correction oriented toward mission. [116] Only to the extent that we are
open to the action of the Holy Spirit will these principles of Social Doctrine
become incarnate in ecclesial life. In this way, the Church will be able to
bear credible witness to society that seeking the common good together, with
shared responsibility and fraternity, is not a utopia, but a real
possibility. [117]
THE
GRANDEUR OF HUMANITY
IN LIGHT OF THE PROMISES OF AI
90. Having recalled the
principles that shine a light on Social Doctrine, I would now like to focus on
certain challenges that profoundly shape our way of living today. The
biblical image accompanying these reflections is that of a building project. On
the one hand, there is the Tower of Babel, where collective effort follows a
plan that dominates and ultimately dehumanizes (cf. Gen 11:1-9).
On the other hand, there are the ruins of Jerusalem, which under Nehemiah’s
direction are rebuilt piece by piece as a project of shared responsibility
(cf. Neh 2–6). We are called to reflect on the great
“construction sites” of our era and ask: What are we building? As technological
development rapidly transforms languages, relationships, institutions and forms
of power, we believers must and can choose which projects to work on and in
what manner, so as to safeguard and value the grandeur of humanity that has
been given to us as a gift. This is a choice not only for our future but also
for our present, since artificial intelligence and other emerging technologies
are already part of our daily lives.
91. I am convinced that the
concrete way of living out social relationships in the light of the Gospel is
not established once and for all, but remains a task entrusted, from generation
to generation, to the Christian community. Under the guidance of the Holy
Spirit, the Church allows herself to be enlightened by God’s word, reads the
signs of the times and creatively seeks new ways for relationships between
peoples and nations to become ever more conformed to the demands of the Kingdom
of God. [118] For this reason, I encourage all
members of the Church not to be afraid of the present challenges, but to listen
to one another and firmly embrace their responsibilities in building a more
humane and fraternal society.
The technocratic paradigm and digital power
92. In his Encyclical Laudato
Si’, Pope
Francis denounced the growing dominance of a technocratic
paradigm [119] in our globalized world: the
tendency to let the logic of efficiency, control and profit alone shape
personal, social and economic decisions. This makes it clear that technology is
not simply a tool. When it becomes the standard by which everything is judged,
it begins to dictate what matters and what can be discarded, reducing creation
to an object of exploitation and human beings to mere cogs in a system driven
toward ever greater efficiency.
93. This paradigm has spread
rapidly in recent years, fueled in part by the expansion of artificial
intelligence, cognitive science, nanotechnology, robotics and biotechnology. In
themselves, these innovations can greatly serve integral human development and
the care of our common home. Yet precisely because of their power, they can
also hasten the expansion of the technocratic paradigm and therefore require a
new spiritual, ethical and political framework. More power does not necessarily
imply something better. In this respect, the words of Romano Guardini remain relevant:
“Contemporary man has not been trained to use power well.” [120]
94. The danger of humanity
becoming a victim of its own achievements was already clearly recognized
by Saint Paul VI,
who warned that “the most extraordinary scientific progress, the most
astounding technical feats and the most amazing economic growth, unless
accompanied by authentic moral and social progress, will in the long run go
against man.” [121] For this reason, technological
progress — valuable in itself — requires careful discernment of the
anthropological vision that guides it and the ends it pursues. If technological
development advances without a corresponding ethical and social progress, the
result may be an increase in means without a growth in humanity: “having more”
without “being more.” In such a scenario, there is a risk that individuals will
be evaluated principally according to the outcomes they produce. [122]
95. Here, we must recognize
another crucial aspect, which I have noted earlier. In many cases within the
digital context, control over platforms, infrastructure, data and computing
power does not rest with States, but with major economic and technological
actors. These entities effectively set the conditions for access, determine the
rules of visibility and shape the very possibilities for participation. When
such power is concentrated in the hands of a few, it tends to become opaque and
evade public oversight, increasing the risk of distorted forms of development
that give rise to new dependencies, exclusions, manipulations and inequalities.
96. Faced with this concentration
of power in the digital world, the criteria for judgment and discernment in
this new situation are 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. They demand that we assess
whether the power of digital infrastructures and algorithms truly fosters
participation and responsibility, protects the vulnerable, ensures fair access
to opportunities and remains directed toward the good of all. On this basis, we
can now examine more closely what artificial intelligence is, the possibilities
it opens up and the risks it entails.
97. It is not my intention here
to offer a comprehensive treatment of artificial intelligence, nor to give an
overview of the extensive relevant literature, since authoritative
contributions already exist, including within the ecclesial context. [123] I limit myself to recalling a few
essential elements for a moral and social discernment that safeguards the
primacy of the human person, in order to ensure that it will always be human
intelligence, with its conscience and freedom, that guides technical
innovations and responsibly determines their use and limits.
98. It is appropriate to preface
this discussion with two considerations. First, any statement regarding AI
risks becoming quickly outdated, given the remarkable pace at which these
systems are developing. Second, all of us, including those who design them,
possess only a limited understanding of their actual functioning. Indeed,
current AI systems are more “cultivated” than “built,” for developers do not
directly design every detail, but instead create a framework within which the
intelligence “grows.” As a result, fundamental scientific aspects — such as the
internal representations and computational processes of these systems — remain,
at present, unknown. There thus emerges an urgent need for a twofold
commitment: on the one hand, a deepening of scientific research; on the other,
the exercise of moral and spiritual discernment.
99. It is not possible to provide
a single, comprehensive definition of AI. What can be stated, however, is that
we must avoid the misconception of equating this type of “intelligence” with
that of human beings. These systems merely imitate certain functions of human
intelligence. In doing so, they often surpass human intelligence in speed and
computational capacity, offering tangible benefits across many fields. Yet this
power remains entirely tied to data processing. So-called artificial
intelligences do not undergo experiences, do not possess a body, do not feel
joy or pain, do not mature through relationships and do not know from within
what love, work, friendship or responsibility mean. Nor do they have a moral
conscience, since they do not judge good and evil, grasp the ultimate meaning
of situations, or bear responsibility for consequences. They may imitate
language, behavior and analytical skills, or even simulate empathy and
understanding, but they do not understand what they produce, for they lack the
affective, relational and spiritual perspective through which human beings grow
in wisdom. Even when these tools are described as capable of “learning,” their
way of doing so is different from that of a human person. It is not the
experience of those who allow themselves to be shaped by life and grow over
time through choices, mistakes, forgiveness and fidelity. Rather, it is a form
of statistical adaptation based on data and feedback, which can be very
effective, but does not imply inner growth.
A
valuable tool that requires vigilance
100. In light of what has been
said, we can better understand why AI can be a valuable tool and, at the same
time, why it calls for a measured and vigilant approach. In recent years, its
private use has expanded significantly, prompting growing reflection on both
the opportunities it offers and the risks tied to its rapid spread. In personal
use, three aspects in particular deserve careful consideration: the ease with
which results are obtained, the impression of objectivity and the simulation of
human communication. The speed and simplicity with which information, complex
analyses, media content and practical assistance can be accessed undoubtedly
makes life easier. Yet they can also encourage excessive reliance and the
search for ready-made answers, and weaken personal creativity and judgment. The
apparent objectivity of the responses and suggestions these systems provide can
lead us to overlook the fact that they reflect the cultural assumptions of
those who designed and trained them, with all their strengths and limitations.
The artificial imitation of positive human communication — words of advice,
empathy, friendship and even love — can be engaging and at times genuinely
helpful. However, for less discerning users, it can also be misleading,
creating the illusion of a relationship with a real personal subject. When
words are simulated, they do not build genuine relationships, but only their
appearance. The artificial imitation of care or support can become particularly
risky when it enters contexts where real relationships and emotional bonds are
lacking. Here, the danger is not so much that a person may believe they are
communicating with another person, but rather that they may gradually lose the
very desire to form genuine human connections.
101. Broadening our perspective
to the use of AI in society, we see that it is now embedded in decision-making
processes across many sectors and at multiple levels: in communication,
management and control. The gains in efficiency and the potential to improve
certain services are clear, yet rapidly and uncritically adopting them exposes
us to a range of risks, including the tendency to overlook the environmental
impact. Current AI systems require enormous amounts of energy and water,
significantly influencing carbon dioxide emissions, and place heavy demands on
natural resources. As their complexity increases, especially in the case of
large language models, the need for computing power and storage capacity grows
too, which requires an extensive network of machines, cables, data centers and
energy-intensive infrastructure. For this reason, it is essential to develop
more sustainable technological solutions that reduce environmental impact and
help protect our common home. [124]
Responsibility, transparency and the
governance of AI
102. The use of AI is never a
purely technical matter: when it enters processes that affect people’s lives,
it touches on rights, opportunities, status and freedom. Important and
sensitive decisions — concerning employment, credit, access to public services
or even a person’s reputation — risk being fully delegated to automated systems
that do not know “compassion, mercy, forgiveness, and above all, the hope that
people are able to change,” [125] and can therefore give rise to new
forms of exclusion. There are clearly harmful uses, such as the manipulation of
information or violations of privacy. Yet there is also a subtler danger, for
when AI systems present themselves as neutral and objective, they end up
reflecting and reinforcing the stereotypes or ideological bias of their
designers and developers.
103. Indeed, entrusting an
algorithm in practice with the power to select who is worthy or not, without
anyone bearing responsibility for that judgment, is to hand over the task of
redefining the boundaries of human possibilities. In this process, political
responsibility is also lost, not just empathy toward those excluded, which can,
after all, be simulated. The exclusion of the vulnerable becomes cloaked in a
veneer of neutrality and objectivity, against which it becomes difficult to
raise objections. In this way, injustice goes unnoticed, and compassion, mercy
and forgiveness — understood not as mere appearances but as real political
actions — gradually disappear from view.
104. From this follows a simple
but compelling consequence: we cannot consider AI to be morally neutral. In
reality, every technical tool embodies choices and priorities through what it
measures, ignores and optimizes, and how it classifies people and situations.
If a system is designed or used in a way that treats some lives as less worthy,
or excludes them without the possibility of appeal, then it is not merely a
tool “to be used well,” since it has already introduced criteria that
contradict the inalienable dignity of the human person. For this reason,
ethical discernment cannot be limited to asking whether we are using a system
for good or bad purposes; it must also examine how that system is designed and
what vision of the human person and society is embedded in the data and models
that guide it. [126]
105. For AI to respect human
dignity and truly serve the common good, responsibility must be clearly defined
at every stage: from those who design and develop these systems to those who
use them and rely on them for concrete decisions. In many cases, however, the
internal processes leading to a result remain opaque, making it harder to
assign responsibility and correct errors. This is where accountability becomes
crucial: the possibility of identifying who must “account” for decisions,
justify them, monitor them, and, when necessary, challenge them and remedy any
harm caused. [127]
106. Calling for prudence,
rigorous evaluation and even, at times, a slower pace in adopting AI does not
mean opposing progress; instead, it is an exercise of responsible care for the
human family. This need is all the more urgent given the frequent imbalance
between the speed of technological growth and the slower development of
awareness, norms, safeguards and institutions capable of governing its effects.
It is not enough to invoke ethics in the abstract; robust legal frameworks,
independent oversight, informed users and a political system that does not
abdicate its responsibility are required. Otherwise, change will be governed
only by technocratic thinking and presented as necessary and inevitable, ultimately
imposing rules shaped by those who control data, infrastructure and computing
power.
107. We cannot be satisfied with
merely calling for the moralization of machines — the so-called “alignment” of
AI with human values — without also having the courage to insist on a further
condition: the possibility of openly discussing the ethical frameworks involved
and subjecting them to shared standards of social justice. Otherwise, those who
control AI will impose their own moral vision, which will become the invisible
infrastructure of these systems. A more moral AI is not enough if that morality
is determined by a few. What is needed is a more active political involvement
that is capable of slowing things down when everything is accelerating, and of
protecting the opportunities for communities still to be able to participate
and ask questions.
108. In fact, as with every major
technological shift, AI tends to amplify the power of those who already possess
economic resources, expertise and access to data. In light of the common good
and the universal destination of goods, this raises serious concerns, since
small but highly influential groups can shape information and consumption
patterns, influence democratic processes and steer economic dynamics to their
own advantage, undermining social justice and solidarity among peoples. For
this reason, it is essential that the use of AI, especially when it touches on
public goods and fundamental rights, be guided by clear criteria and effective
oversight, grounded in participation and subsidiarity. Communities and
intermediary organizations must not be reduced to passive recipients of
decisions made elsewhere; they must be able to contribute to discernment and
oversight. Moreover, ownership of data cannot be left solely in private hands
but must be appropriately regulated. Data is the product of many contributors
and should not be treated as something to be sold off or entrusted to a select
few. It is necessary to think creatively in order to manage data as a common or
shared good, in a spirit of participation, as Saint John Paul II already
suggested regarding collective goods. [128]
109. The principles of Social
Doctrine offer a framework for understanding this new reality. In a world where
data, computational resources and regulatory influence remain in the hands of a
few, to speak of the common good means exposing this new form of epistemic,
economic and political asymmetry and naming the new monopolies of AI. To speak
of the universal destination of goods means finding ways of ensuring universal
access to both technologies and the education needed to use them. To speak of
subsidiarity calls for protecting the ability of communities to make choices
and corrections, rather than confining their role to mere oversight after the
standards have been set elsewhere. To speak of solidarity obliges us to
recognize the hidden, often exploited workers, who sustain algorithmic systems.
To speak of justice requires questioning the global distribution of power that
decides who in fact can train these models and who is merely subjected to them.
Likewise, it means acknowledging that social justice is not only a goal to be
safeguarded after technologies are deployed, but a condition that must shape
their very design from the outset.
110. Finally, I would like to
employ the expression “to disarm,” which is close to my heart. Disarming AI
means freeing it from the mentality of “armed” competition, which today is not
limited simply to the military context, but is also an economic and cognitive
phenomenon. This entails a race for ever more powerful algorithms and larger
datasets, driven by the desire to secure geopolitical or commercial dominance.
To disarm means discrediting the assumption that technical power automatically
confers the right to govern. To disarm does not mean rejecting technology, but
preventing it from dominating humanity. It means freeing technology from
monopolistic control and opening it to discussion and debate, therefore making
it human-friendly and restoring it to the plurality of human cultures and ways
of life. Our task today is not only ethical or technical. It is ecological in
the deepest sense, for it concerns a new dimension of our common home. AI is
already an environment in which we are immersed, as well as a force with which
we must engage. For this reason, merely regulating it is insufficient; it must
be disarmed, welcoming and accessible.
111. I wish to address a special
appeal to those who develop artificial intelligence. In one sense,
technological innovation can represent human participation in the divine act of
creation. Developers, therefore, bear a particular ethical and spiritual
responsibility, for every design choice reflects a vision of humanity. Just as
the creator of an artistic or literary work must consider the values it
conveys, so developers are called to embed values in their projects with due
seriousness: with transparency, responsibility toward affected communities and
careful attention to ensuring that what is being cultivated is a genuine good.
112. Having considered the issues
of responsibility and governance of AI, we must now return to our central
question: what does it mean to safeguard our humanity? The risk extends beyond
the misuse of certain technologies. More gravely, the pervasive technocratic
paradigm in which we are immersed, and that is amplified by the digital
revolution and AI, threatens to normalize an anti-human vision. In that vision,
the fullness of life is equated with having more, reducing weakness,
eliminating uncertainty and exerting total control. When efficiency becomes the
ultimate measure of value, human beings are tempted to see themselves as a
project to be optimized rather than as persons called to relationship and
communion.
113. In reality, elevating any
single dimension of human existence to an absolute is always a mistake. Indeed,
disorder does not arise only from scarcity; even unchecked growth can give rise
to impoverishment. In an ecosystem, balance is disrupted when one species
expands at the expense of others; in human life, something similar occurs when
one faculty claims to be the measure of everything. Thus, intelligence, when
absolutized, overshadows other essential dimensions of life, such as affection,
the will, commitment and relationships. Similarly, technical power, if left
unbalanced, does not make us more capable; it makes us more isolated and more
vulnerable to being dominated and excluded. This critical point does not oppose
intelligence, but serves as a reminder that when intelligence becomes
self-referential, its true purpose of serving life and the human person is
lost.
114. The quality of a
civilization is measured not by the power of its means, but by the care it is
able to offer, by its ability to recognize the other as a face not merely as a
function. The ability to care for one another is a fundamental dimension of our
humanity, one that is learned and mastered through lived experience. Reading
stories to a child, offering company to an elderly person and arranging a home
so that it is welcoming are simple gestures often rooted in family life. They
teach us to value care at a societal level and train us to recognize others as
persons worthy of attention. Technology can also support this mutual care
between people, for example, by providing tools that help us anticipate and
organize things, without undermining human freedom and judgment. After all,
human beings are the subjects of relationships and responsible for their own
decisions.
Underlying
narratives: transhumanism and posthumanism
115. In an attempt to shed light
on the cultural assumptions accompanying the ongoing digital revolution, I
would now like to turn our attention to certain currents of thought that
interpret progress as surpassing the human condition, and which are often grouped
under the labels of transhumanism and posthumanism. These perspectives form the
ideological background present in some centers of technological power and
occupy the collective imagination in a simplified form, especially in the media
and on social networks. They tend to foster enthusiasm for new technologies
through a futuristic vision of an “enhanced human being” or “human-machine
hybrid.”
116. Transhumanism and
posthumanism encompass a range of currents and sensibilities, making it
difficult to define them in a single, unambiguous way. They can be likened to
an archipelago of conceptual “islands,” distinct yet connected by a common
“sea” of assumptions, namely the central role of technology and the aspiration
to transcend the limits of the human condition. In general, transhumanism
envisions the enhancement of human beings through technologies — such as
biomedicine, body engineering, devices and algorithms — with the aim of
increasing performance and capabilities. Posthumanism, especially in its more
radical forms, goes further: it challenges anthropocentrism and envisions a
hybridization of human beings, machines and the environment, even anticipating
a threshold where humanity surpasses itself in a new evolutionary stage. Even
when such ideas remain largely speculative, they gain relevance by altering the
collective imagination and thereby influence social, economic and political
choices. [129]
117. From the perspective of the
Church’s Social Doctrine, the key issue is not the use of technology as such,
but the vision that underlies it. If the human being is treated as something to
be perfected or surpassed, it becomes easier to accept that some lives are less
useful, less desirable or less worthy. In the name of progress, “necessary
sacrifices” may begin to be justified, placing the burden on the most
vulnerable in pursuit of a supposed optimization of the species. In this regard,
the aforementioned warning of Saint Paul VI retains
great foresight: indeed, scientific and technological advances, when detached
from moral and social progress, end up turning against humanity. [130] For this reason, a clear
distinction must be made. It is one thing to integrate technology within a
human-centered, relational vision; it is quite another to be guided by an
outlook that devalues human limits and promises a purely technical form of
“salvation.”
The limit, the heart and
the grandeur of the human
person
118. Our relationship with life
seems to be in crisis today. Everything that appears as a “limit” — incapacity,
illness, old age, suffering, vulnerability — tends to be seen primarily as a
defect to be corrected, rather than as a reality through which our humanity
matures and opens itself to relationship. And yet we must remember that
humanity flourishes not despite limitations, but often through them.
The light of faith offers a perspective on reality that helps us recognize what
we call the “contingency” of the things of this world. While it is right to strive
to alleviate the suffering that marks human life, it is also wise to
acknowledge our fundamental finitude, knowing that “religious experience, and
in particular Christian faith, propose that we live, without
oversimplification, this ambivalence between human greatness and limitation,
interpreting it in the light of our original and fundamental relationship with
God.” [131]
119. It is precisely within our
limitations that the following find a place: compassion, as well as a sincere
concern for the needs of others; a generosity that can emerge even in the midst
of darkness and failure; spiritual experience and the worship of God. We see
this at many moments when our limits become tangible: when we face rejection,
when we suffer the illness or loss of a loved one, when we encounter our own
weakness or failure. Mysteriously, it is precisely in such moments that we can
discover a new wisdom, tangibly experience the closeness of others and
encounter the presence of the Lord.
120. Even when limitations are
experienced as inner suffering, human wisdom teaches us not to deny or suppress
it, but to integrate it. To eliminate suffering entirely would mean, in the
end, extinguishing love and desire as well. Those who love and desire cannot
avoid passing through trial and suffering; and over the years, we carry within
us lessons that leave their mark like scars, the memories of a journey shaped
by freedom and failure, dreams and disappointments. It is only thanks to the
interplay of these elements that the wonders of the soul occur within us,
allowing us to sense the richness of our humanity. [132] To renounce this adventure, both
tragic and splendid, in the name of a presumed transcendence of all limits,
could mean many things, but it would no longer be human.
121. The moral corruption of our
limitations as created beings — namely the evil that clearly agitates the human
heart — ruins society and life, at times reaching extreme forms of inhumanity.
Yet 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. As Viktor Frankl rightly
observed, in moments of horror, “we have come to know man as he really is.
After all, man is that being who invented the gas chambers of Auschwitz;
however, he is also that being who entered those gas chambers upright, with the
Lord’s Prayer or the Shema Yisrael on his lips.” [133]
122. Finitude, when truly
accepted, does not diminish us but opens us to recognizing the face of God and
others. Indeed, precisely because we experience limits — vulnerability,
suffering and failure — we can recognize the inviolable dignity of every
person, both our own and that of others. In this same experience, we remain
capable of intuiting a fraternity greater than ourselves and of perceiving
injustice as a scandal. Authentic culture and art preserve this spark,
resisting the normalization of evil. For this reason, certain works have taken
on an almost prophetic significance: Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony can be seen as a
desire for unity; Guernica as a denunciation of
dehumanization; Schindler’s List as a call not to consign the
past to oblivion.
123. History does not appear
solely as a record of human violence, but also as evidence that humanity is
capable of creating institutions that protect our shared life. Over the past
two centuries, this can be seen in several emblematic achievements: the
founding of the International Committee of the Red Cross (1863), whose
operational neutrality ensures compassionate care for all; the long process
that led to the abolition of slavery, which represented not only a legal shift
but a transformation of conscience; the establishment of the United Nations
(1945) and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948),
which articulated a shared language for affirming, at least as a common ideal,
the universality of human dignity; and the 1951 Refugee Convention,
which recognizes the duty to protect those fleeing persecution and danger. In
each of these cases, the desire for good took concrete shape in public contexts
— laws, institutions and practices — capable of limiting the abuse of power and
defending the vulnerable. Yet none of these developments emerged without
encountering resistance, narrow interests or cultural inertia. Moral progress
almost always unfolds through a long and demanding journey, often marked by
setbacks. We need only think of stalled peace processes or the slow
implementation of environmental commitments. The very fragility of these
achievements highlights how precious the responsibility is of those who
initiate and sustain them.
124. Certain events make it clear
that history can also change when individuals truly take the dignity of
everyone seriously: the civil rights movement in the United States of America,
closely associated with the testimony of Martin Luther King Jr., or the end of
apartheid in South Africa following the release of Nelson Mandela and his
decision not to surrender the future to hatred. In different contexts, many
courageous and generous women have also stood out, including Saint Laura
Montoya, Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Dorothy Day, Marie Skłodowska-Curie, Maria
Montessori, Elisabeth Elliot, Wangari Maathai, Benazir Bhutto and countless
others from every continent whose commitment has contributed to making history
more humane.
125. Alongside these public
signs, there is a more hidden but decisive story. We see it in religious
communities that choose to serve in poor and dangerous places. We also
see it in the martyrs of fraternity and justice, such as Saint Maximilian Mary
Kolbe, Saint Oscar Romero and Blessed Enrique Angelelli; and in those witnesses
who embodied the hope of the Gospel as well as human dignity amidst harsh,
often inhumane conditions, such as Venerable Francis-Xavier Nguyễn Văn Thuận.
Above all, it is visible in the “martyrs of everyday life” who care for,
educate, accompany and comfort without fanfare, such as parents, nurses,
doctors, volunteers and those who remain alongside an elderly person or an
outcast. Their testimony demonstrates that goodness does not advance
automatically, but requires the perseverance, memory and interior conversion
necessary to begin anew, even after defeat.
126. It is this intertwining of
just institutions, credible witnesses and daily fidelity that sustains hope and
provides clear direction for technological progress without allowing the heart
to regress. For this reason, humanity — in all its grandeur and woundedness —
must never be replaced or surpassed. We can embrace the technological progress
that alleviates suffering and unlocks new possibilities, provided that we do
not abandon the very essence of our humanity, namely the capacity for
relationship and love. This leads to a crucial question: if an authentic “more
than human” exists, where is it to be found? The Christian faith answers
that question by pointing to a fulfilment that does not arise from a
technological divinization, but through God’s grace received in Christ.
The authentic “more than human”: grace and Christian humanism
127. The expression “more than
human” is not an exclusive domain of technological promise. For centuries, the
Christian tradition has maintained that human beings are not confined by the
boundaries of their own nature; rather, they are called to self-transcendence,
not through an escape from reality or a contempt for their limitations, but
through their fulfillment in love. Faith recognizes an openness toward the
“beyond,” which originates as a gift from God. This transformation is a work of
the Holy Spirit. As Saint Thomas Aquinas taught, this process of elevation and
transformation “surpasses every capability of created nature,” [134] for an infinite disparity
separates our finite nature from the life of God. [135] Nevertheless, it remains possible
to enter into the heart of that inexhaustible life, even as we journey through
the limitations of this world. The one who makes this passage possible can only
be the Eternal One who gives of himself. Indeed, it is God himself who
overcomes the “infinite” disproportion. [136] In him, the re-creation of the
human person happens. “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:
everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new” ( 2 Cor 5:17).
128. When we embrace the
possibility of transcending ourselves through God’s grace, we do not deny our
nature, nor do we become less human. On the contrary, as Pope Francis explained,
“We become fully human when we become more than human, when we let God bring us
beyond ourselves in order to attain the fullest truth of our being.” [137] Herein lies the radical departure
from Promethean dreams: what saves humanity is not enhanced self-sufficiency,
but a relationship that liberates, a communion that transforms. In this light,
a technology that merely classifies and optimizes what already exists can,
however unintentionally, become an obstacle to change and growth. For an
algorithm, an error is a flaw to be corrected; for a person, however, an error
can be a catalyst for profound change. A person’s future is not calculable, but
depends on one’s freedom — elevated by the inexhaustible grace of God — and on
the relationships cultivated.
129. Christian humanism does not
reject science or technology, but embraces them with gratitude and realism, and
grounds them within a higher vocation. The creative intelligence of humanity is
a gift that can alleviate suffering and open up new possibilities, but it must
remain ordered toward the common good, justice, the care of the vulnerable and
creation. In this sense, the true alternative is not between enthusiasm and
fear, but between two paths of development: a progress that serves individuals
and peoples, or a progress that subjects them to the mentality of power.
Ultimately, the key question remains the one posed by Saint John Paul II:
does AI “make human life on earth ‘more human’ in every aspect of that life?
Does it make it more worthy of man?” [138] If the answer is yes, then we can
recognize it as an opportunity to be embraced responsibly, on a path of patient,
shared reconstruction, akin to the rebuilding of Jerusalem narrated in the Book
of Nehemiah. If, however, power grows while the heart withers and human bonds
fray, then we are faced with a new form of Babel — a construction that is
grandiose, yet fundamentally dehumanizing.
130. Questioning this alternative
path of progress and how we interpret and live it is ultimately a matter of
examining our own hearts. The way we understand and shape relationships, work
and institutions, in practice reveals our fundamental values. In the end, it
all stems from what we hold most dear. This is a love that guides us as to what
we truly cherish, both as individuals and as a society, and directs our lives
and actions. Saint Augustine described human history as a struggle between two
loves, which give rise to two ways of inhabiting the world and living together
— or two “cities,” as it were: on the one hand, the love of God and neighbor;
on the other, the exclusive love of self. “Two loves have built two cities: the
earthly city, the love of self even to the contempt of God; the heavenly city,
the love of God even to the contempt of self.” [139] As throughout history, these two
loves continue to contend for dominance in our hearts today. The age of AI is
no exception: the construction of Babel or the rebuilding of Jerusalem begins
within each one of us.
SAFEGUARDING
HUMANITY AT A TIME OF TRANSFORMATION.
131. Having outlined the context
in which the challenge of technological transformation is situated, especially
those linked to AI and to transhumanist and posthumanist currents, we cannot
remain at the level of general analysis alone. When languages and tools change,
so do everyday actions and social relationships. For this reason, we must focus
on certain areas in which these transformations have particularly concrete, and
at times tragic, consequences. In light of the principles of the Church’s
Social Doctrine, the digital transformation invites us to rediscover truth as a
common good, to protect the dignity of work and to safeguard freedom against
all forms of dependence and commercialization.
132. The use of digital platforms
and AI systems is driving profound changes in public and political
communication. Tools that could foster dialogue and participation are often
used to construct distorted narratives and blur the boundaries between truth
and falsehood, mixing facts with opinions. Disinformation did not begin with
AI, yet today it finds a powerful amplifier in AI. The ability to manipulate
content, images and videos exposes people to biased or misleading perspectives.
This problem has both cultural and moral dimensions, since the quality of
public communication depends directly on social trust and, in turn, shapes it.
At the same time, truthful information does not arise from centralized or
automated control. In public discourse, the truth of facts has a rational
dimension, as it requires verification, cross-checking of sources and
responsible argumentation. Moreover, it is deeply relational, built through
bonds of trust and shared practices, as well as an honest exchange with others
and with the world. Only the shared pursuit of the veracity of facts, perceived
as a common good, can provide a solid foundation for just communication.
133. Those who command powerful
technological and economic resources, along with substantial human capital for
intervention, possess significant capabilities for influencing cultural change.
Ultimately, they can influence a significant number of people concerning the
truth about humanity, the world, the meaning of existence, the family and even
God. This is pure power detached from truth, which subtly or overtly imposes
what it wishes others to accept as true. At its root lies a deeper and often
unrecognized “sickness”: the fact that “modern man is wrongly convinced that he
is the sole author of himself, his life and society. This is a presumption that
follows from being selfishly closed in upon himself.” [140] Consequently, people believe that
they can construct reality, and that whatever best suits their claims
corresponds to what is true. Saint John Paul II reflected
on the consequences of this “crisis of truth,” going so far as to state that
“once the idea of a universal truth about the good, knowable by human reason,
is lost, inevitably the notion of conscience also changes.” [141] In such a context, universally
valid truths, which precede us and which conscience must accept, are no longer
recognized. This led Pope Francis to
ask with realism: “What is law without the conviction, born of age-old
reflection and great wisdom, that each human being is sacred and
inviolable?” To which he concluded: “If society is to have a future, it
must respect the truth of our human dignity and submit to that truth. Murder is
not wrong simply because it is socially unacceptable and punished by law, but
because of a deeper conviction. This is a non-negotiable truth attained by the
use of reason and accepted in conscience. A society is noble and decent, not
least for its support of the pursuit of truth and its adherence to the most
basic of truths.” [142]
134. The search for truth is an
essential element of democracy, which is itself a means of contributing to the
common good. When questions about what is true lose their appeal, and a
pragmatism takes hold that is content with what appears useful or effective,
then democratic life is weakened. After all, democracy does not consist of
rules and procedures alone, but above all of a solid concordance with the facts
and a genuine commitment to the good of individuals and society as a
whole. Indifference to the truth leads, slowly but surely, to a descent
into totalitarianism. As the philosopher Hannah Arendt wrote, the ideal
subjects of such regimes are not so much those who are ideologically convinced,
but rather “people for whom the distinction between fact and fiction (i.e., the
reality of experience) and the distinction between true and false (i.e., the
standards of thought) no longer exist.” [143]
Communication and the collective imagination
135. In view of this, it is
important to recall that communication “is not only the transmission of
information, but it is also the creation of a culture.” [144] The content that circulates within
digital environments shapes how people perceive the world and introduces into
the collective consciousness images and narratives that direct our desires and
influence our daily choices. This is “not a parallel or purely virtual
world,” [145] since what originates online now
becomes a part of people’s lives, especially of the youngest.
136. For this reason, those who
control digital platforms and means of communication have a considerable
ability to affect the collective imagination and to present a particular vision
of reality as desirable. Such power should be constantly guided by the pursuit
of truth and respect for human dignity, so that the culture fostered on the
internet does not become an instrument of excessive distraction, homogenization
or dominance, but rather a setting in which inner freedom and critical thought
can mature.
Toward an ecology of communication
137. Our first task is neither to
demonize nor idolize technological tools, but to utilize them on the basis of a
fundamental principle, namely that truth is a common good and not the property
of those with power or influence. We must therefore promote an ecology of
communication. On the level of public policy, this entails establishing norms
so that the decision-making behind content selection and its development
becomes more transparent and protects personal data. Regarding social and
cultural aspects, this requires a strengthening of intermediary organizations,
serious journalism and forums for debate, where reasoned argumentation and
verification carry greater weight than immediate reaction. For families and
schools, there is a growing need for new educational awareness and for
formation concerning the proper and critical use of digital tools, AI and online
commercial and financial platforms. In universities, the principal challenge
lies in the integration of knowledge, cultivating both the capacity to connect
and synthesize knowledge in order to grasp complexity, and the skills necessary
to verify facts.
138. Christian communities, too,
are called to commit themselves to transparency in communication and to the
honest pursuit of facts. Sadly, this has not always been the case. We have
witnessed with shame the emergence of painful truths concerning even members of
the Church and ecclesial realities. In particular, some journalists, driven by
a passion for truth, have played a crucial role in bringing injustices and
abuses to light. To them, I wish to repeat the words that Pope Francis used
in speaking to journalists: “I also thank you for what you tell us about what
goes wrong in the Church, for helping us not to sweep it under the carpet, and
for the voice you have given to the victims of abuse.” [146] Yet vigilance and transparency
remain first and foremost a grave responsibility for the Church herself, and we
must not wait for others to compel us to confront uncomfortable truths about
ourselves.
An educational alliance for the digital age
139. In an era when truth is
often distorted in order to serve particular interests and communication
strategies, the field of education assumes decisive importance. Yet rapid
technological transformations reveal just how unprepared we are on the
educational level. The pervasiveness of digital media fosters a culture of
immediacy and hyper-stimulation, which gives rise to fatigue, boredom and
apathy concerning the effort required for seeking the truth.
140. Education, by contrast, is a
long journey requiring patience, and therefore needs time for development and
for engagement with reality beyond appearances. This is a fundamental issue
because every technology shapes those who use it. Educating people about the
use of AI, then, involves teaching them to decide when and for what purpose it
ought not to be used. The speed and ease with which answers or
summaries can be obtained risk extinguishing the desire to ask questions, which
is a process that bears fruit only over time. As Plato wrote, the deepest and
most important things are learned only after much time and effort, by engaging
in discussion with others, “striking upon” ideas and experiences together like
flint until the spark of understanding is kindled within us. [147] We must learn, then, how to
exercise restraint in the use of AI and to protect our young people from the
promise of the perfect machine, from that subtle temptation which renders human
thought seemingly superfluous precisely when it is most needed.
141. In recent years,
psychological and psychiatric literature has documented with growing insistence
how early and unsupervised exposure to digital devices and social media can
negatively impact sleep, attention span, control of emotions and relationships,
especially during the most vulnerable stages of life, at times with tragic
consequences. This is further aggravated by easy access to violent or degrading
content that offends sensibility, to pornographic and hypersexualized material,
to messages that trivialize the body and emotions, and to proposals that
normalize risky behavior. Online phenomena such as grooming, blackmail and the
sexual exploitation of minors are not uncommon, and are made more insidious by
the use of fake profiles, algorithms that facilitate dangerous contact, and AI
tools capable of manipulating images and videos. Having a personal mobile
device at too early an age and using it without adult supervision can
exacerbate young people’s vulnerabilities, foster addiction and expose them to
isolation, bullying and cyberbullying, as well as to pressures to share
intimate images or sensitive information.
142. It is difficult for parents
by themselves to resist the influence of business models that monetize
attention and time. Therefore, it is essential to form an alliance among
policy-makers, educational institutions and families that is capable of
concretely supporting adults in this task. Far-sighted public policies are
needed to oppose the immediate interests of platforms, concentrated in a few
hands, when they conflict with the wellbeing of minors. In this regard,
interventions by legislators are appropriate for setting age limits, holding
service providers accountable rather than shifting the whole burden of control
onto families, and for providing specific protections against all forms of
online sexual exploitation and violence. Thus can children and adolescents, who
are entrusted to our care, be genuinely protected as a precious treasure. [148] At the same time, it is also
necessary to teach children, adolescents and young people how to recognize
manipulation, defend their dignity and respect that of others in digital
environments. [149]
143. School is the place where
new generations can learn to seek and love the truth, to reflect on the meaning
of life and to recognize the dignity of every person. For this reason, many
parents, who want their children to grow in the capacity to form relationships,
develop critical thinking skills and embrace solid values, place great
expectations on schools as valuable partners in their children’s education. Yet
parents have the primary and inalienable right to choose the kind of education
and formation for their children, in a manner consistent with their moral,
cultural and religious convictions. Today, the world of education faces a
number of urgent challenges.
144. The first challenge is
socio-political. Both within individual nations and across different regions of
the world, significant inequalities persist concerning access to basic
education and higher studies. In many nations, Governments have not yet
invested the necessary resources for guaranteeing a quality education for all,
whether by adequately supporting the public school system or by assisting
private institutions that offer this essential service. When a substantial
portion of education, at various levels, is entrusted to private institutions,
access to schooling may become overly dependent on families’ financial means,
especially in the absence of adequate public support. In the face of this risk,
it is nevertheless important to acknowledge and encourage the contribution of
the many private Catholic educational institutions which ensure inclusive
access for children and young people of every background, even when families’
economic circumstances would not otherwise allow it.
145. The second major challenge
is pedagogical. Many educational systems struggle to keep pace with change and
to support the integral development of students. The advance of information
technologies and AI is rapidly rendering curricula obsolete that were designed
for a different era. Meanwhile, the organization of schools, physical spaces,
evaluation methods and the role of teachers themselves must be rethought in
order to promote an authentically integral education that addresses every
dimension of the person. It is necessary to support the ongoing formation of
teachers throughout their professional lives, so that they can engage
positively with new technologies, helping students to use them responsibly,
critically and creatively, rather than passively succumbing to their influence.
146. The third major challenge is
intellectual and concerns knowledge. Without careful attention, an educational
system lacking in a love for truth may emerge, in which an incessant flow of
information replaces the essential exercise of research, reflection and
discernment. As knowledge becomes increasingly fragmented, it becomes difficult
to grasp reality as a whole, to ask profound questions about meaning, or to
develop authentic, critical and creative thought. Many educators already report
signs of dehumanization, where people may “know many things” but struggle to
find direction in their lives, partly due to an inability to connect
information with deeper knowledge or maintain a sense of purpose. A genuinely
healthy attitude is needed, requiring rhythms that incorporate silence,
in-depth study, reading and judicious analysis, for without these elements
inner freedom may be compromised.
147. The Church’s Social Doctrine
invites families, schools, Christian communities and public institutions to
form a renewed educational alliance. This takes shape when fundamental
principles are translated into educational goals, including teaching students a
sense of moderation and limits; recognition of the rights of others and of
future generations to enjoy the goods that are either provided for us or made
available by human ingenuity; freedom and responsibility; and a sense of
transcendence and the common good. Schools are not called to follow the pace of
the digital world, but to offer that which the digital sphere by itself cannot
provide, namely a shared time for learning and developing trustworthy relationships.
The dignity of work at a time
of digital transition
148. Since the emergence of her
Social Doctrine, beginning with Rerum
Novarum, the Church has emphasized the protection of workers and the
need to combat all forms of exploitation. Above all, however, the Magisterium
has recognized in work “the essential key” [150] to understanding the entire social
question, since it is through their work that individuals develop many
dimensions of their existence. In view of this, we can understand the great
intuition of Saint Benedict of Nursia, who united prayer and work, showing
daily activity to be a part of the human response to God’s call. Created in the
image of the Creator, our own work in some way continues his, for thereby we
contribute to the progress of society and the common good, put to good use the
capabilities we have received, improve and beautify the world, support our
families, engage in cooperative relationships and, through listening and
dialogue, learn to build together something that no one could achieve alone.
149. For these reasons, work is
not simply an instrument; it expresses and enhances the dignity of our lives.
It is a requirement of the human condition, a normal path toward maturity,
development and personal fulfilment. In this regard, financial assistance to
the poor may at times be necessary in emergencies, but it cannot become the
sole response, since the goal is to enable each person to live with dignity
through his or her own work. [151]
150. Today, the convergence of
automation, robotics and AI is rapidly transforming the very structure of work.
It is said that this will bring great improvements for everyone. In reality,
however, the “new ways” of working are not necessarily better, for “while AI
promises to boost productivity by taking over mundane tasks, it frequently
forces workers to adapt to the speed and demands of machines, rather than machines
being designed to support those who work. As a result, contrary to the
advertised benefits of AI, current approaches to technology can
paradoxically de-skill workers, subject them to automated
surveillance and relegate them to rigid and repetitive tasks. The need to keep
up with the pace of technology can erode workers’ sense of agency and
stifle the innovative abilities they are expected to bring to their
work.” [152] Precisely in order to avoid this
drift, it is necessary to design systems that are centered on the human person
and not solely on performance.
151. Saint John Paul II recognized
that unemployment is a grave evil. Indeed, when it reaches massive proportions,
it becomes a true social calamity that especially requires the State to
exercise responsibility. [153] Today, amid the “fourth industrial
revolution,” this concern is even more acute, as innovation is often pursued
solely for reducing costs and increasing profits. [154] In some contexts, there is a
legitimate fear of a significant and rapid contraction in available jobs that
would create a chain reaction deeply impacting families, young people and local
economies. In many sectors, this can already be seen in new forms of job
insecurity and inequality, characterized by outsized remuneration for a highly
specialized minority alongside declining wages for a large portion of the
workforce.
152. It is certainly desirable
for technology to relieve humans of arduous, repetitive or dangerous tasks and
to provide intelligent support for human activity. Yet, the protection of employment
opportunities and the irreplaceable role of the individual must remain the
general rule. The pursuit of greater profits cannot justify choices that
systematically sacrifice jobs, because the human person is an end, not a means,
and the economic order must remain subordinate to human dignity and the common
good.
153. At the same time, we must
acknowledge that every real transition involves discontinuities, for it is
uneven, fragmented and sometimes conflictual. Consequently, no single model of
change or universal solution exists, since there are places and situations that
require different responses. Given the inequality that characterizes our world,
the spread of AI and computational systems produces varied effects in different
places. Wealthy societies automate rapidly and chaotically, reducing the need
for a workforce and creating room for unemployment and institutional friction.
Vast regions of the world, by contrast, remain trapped in hybrid economies,
where underpaid human labor and partial technologies coexist without achieving
genuine transformation. These areas become places of precarious labor, and
hotbeds of instability and forced migration. Therefore, solutions must be
sought at national and local levels through the involvement of intermediary
communities. We need adaptive tools, including well-structured models, local
initiatives, progressive redistribution and new rights of access to essential
goods. While not pursuing an abstract harmony, we must build concrete forms of
human coexistence at this time of transformation.
154. Work remains a fundamental
dimension of the human experience, for not only is it a means of sustenance,
but it is also a context for expression, relationships and contributing to the
community. Therefore, the problems related to work extend beyond the income
necessary for family survival. A society that guarantees employment to only a
small fraction of the population, despite having a high level of technical
development, risks exposing many to forced inactivity, a lack of responsibility
and the absence of daily tasks and stimuli, resulting in human and cultural
impoverishment. This creates a paradox of material progress and anthropological
regression that undermines the foundations of a just and stable social peace.
For this reason, the Church’s Social Doctrine insists that access to work for
all must be a high priority for public policies and economic processes, serving
as a criterion for evaluating the human quality of any development model. [155] Moreover, in those parts of the
world where work tends to diminish or change radically due to technological and
organizational processes outside of democratic control, we must rethink the
nature of work and its connection to citizenship, ensuring that unemployment
does not jeopardize social participation.
155. In light of this conviction,
we can better appreciate the history of the Church’s Social Doctrine
after Rerum
Novarum. The initiatives which emerged from that tradition, including
associations, trade unions, cooperatives and welfare organizations, have
contributed decisively to improving labor legislation, protecting the most
vulnerable and promoting more humane conditions. [156] Today, however, these instruments
are no longer sufficient by themselves in the face of the transformations
driven by AI, the new organization of markets and the competitiveness that is
rarely concerned with social sustainability. New collaborative efforts are
needed among political leaders, labor organizations, the business world and the
scientific community in order to develop rapidly adequate shared regulations
and protections, including at the international level. [157] Labor unions, which the Church has
consistently supported, are called upon to be open to new types of employment
and the corresponding needs of workers, in order to represent and defend them.
In this context, without bold decisions, the prospect of greater poverty and
inequality looms large, which would leave many individuals marginalized,
stranded and surrounded by the machines and automated systems that have
replaced them.
156. At this time of transition,
it is not enough to react only when jobs disappear; we must oversee the
transformation in advance. One viable path is, first of all, to establish
social criteria for innovation. Here, every introduction of automation and AI
should be accompanied by verifiable measures to protect the employment,
retraining and participation of workers. In this way, technology will be
oriented toward freeing up human time and capabilities, rather than producing
exclusion. Second, we need proactive policies that make continuous training and
professional transitions accessible to all, ensuring that the cost of
adaptation does not fall solely on individuals. Finally, there needs to be a
corporate commitment to include quality and dignity of work among its
indicators of success. When these conditions are present, innovation can serve
as an ally of safer, more creative and dignified work; without them, innovation
tends to become an accelerator of injustice.
An economy that values dignity
157. The labor market is one area
in which the risks associated with new technologies more clearly emerge. It is
thus necessary to remember that economic freedom is not absolute; it must
always be measured against the common good and the dignity of every person.
Entrepreneurial initiative can indeed be a true vocation, generating wealth and
improving lives, rather than a variable that is dependent only on profit. This
is possible when it recognizes that the creation of dignified, valuable jobs
are an essential part of its proper service to society. [158]
158. With prophetic spirit, Pope Francis warned
against an economic freedom proclaimed in words alone, while actual conditions
prevent many from benefiting from it. [159] Economic models that exalt
efficiency and individual success often view investment in disadvantaged people
or in those with slower development paths as useless or inconvenient, as if
their futures depended solely on their ability to keep pace with the “winners.”
In reality, a just society requires a vigilant State and civil institutions
that are capable of overcoming the singular mentality of efficiency, and of
ensuring that resources, creative solutions and regulations favor the most
vulnerable. [160] Instead of waiting for the
benefits of growth to reach the poor “eventually,” decisions need to be taken
to ensure that growth becomes inclusive from the outset. The experience of
recent decades shows that in economic and financial crises, it is always the
poor who pay the highest price, while the theories that promise automatic
general prosperity often prove to be illusory.
159. It is important to move
beyond the current metrics of development — which for more than eighty years
have been tied to the concept of Gross Domestic Product (GDP) — since these
metrics almost systematically neglect aspects essential to the overall
wellbeing of people and the environment. The development of parameters and
metrics complementary to GDP is crucial for improving the databases used for
conducting analyses, political and economic decision-making and establishing
regional, national and international priorities. The introduction of new
parameters will allow for a comprehensive and timely assessment of how
legislative and regulatory decisions impact the dignity of work, shared
prosperity, inequality reduction and environmental protection. It will also
affect the concept of development, educational processes, mindsets and public
opinion, as well as peace, which is only authentic when based on justice.
160. In recent years, finance has
increased in importance and has undergone significant innovation, driven partly
by the introduction of cryptocurrencies. The reflections and observations
contained in the teaching of my predecessors, particularly in their
Encyclicals, have highlighted how the financial intermediation sector, “when
operating without the necessary anthropological and moral foundations, has not
only produced manifest abuses and injustice, but also demonstrated a capacity
to create systemic and worldwide economic crisis.” [161] It is likewise the case that
income from capital risks replacing income from labor, which is often confined
to the margins of the economic system’s primary interests. Yet savings
transformed into credit for the real economy, thereby creating both jobs and
self-employed work, remain central for development and the investments that
must accompany ongoing transitions. The social function of credit remains
irreplaceable. Finance for its own sake is fundamentally different from finance
aimed at the development, creation and evolution of work.
161. This perspective needs to
become part of a broader view of global dynamics. While the world’s wealth has
grown in absolute terms, it is increasingly concentrated in fewer hands,
widening inequalities both within and between countries. “There are a few who
have too much, and too many who have little, that is the logic of today.” [162] Scientific and technological
advances, even in the medical field, are not easily accessible to the vast
majority of people, as was dramatically demonstrated during the recent
pandemic. While some regions spend heavily on superfluous interventions or
dreams of individual enhancement accessible only to a select few, other parts
of the world lack the essential equipment needed to save millions of human
lives. To think that new technologies will automatically benefit everyone is to
ignore the evidence. Unless transformations at the design stage prioritize the
prevention of new and further disparities, technological progress will
inevitably produce structural inequalities. Today, justice requires access to
the benefits of innovation, including care, knowledge, tools and opportunities.
162. Just laws and methods of
redistribution are certainly necessary for correcting imbalances, including tax
systems that lighten the burden on the weakest and ask for more from those with
greater resources. However, the pursuit of social justice should not be
considered a separate issue that follows only after the production of wealth,
as if the economy existed solely to create wealth, with politicians only
intervening afterwards in order to distribute it. Indeed, justice concerns
every phase of economic activity, from resource acquisition to financing, and
from production to consumption; every choice has moral consequences. [163]
163. More than ever, in the
age of AI and robotics, it is no longer possible to rely solely on the
“invisible hand” of the market. [164] Politics has the task of
orientating economies and technologies to the common good, promoting dignified
work, social inclusion and an equitable distribution of the benefits of
innovation. Since many economic decisions transcend national borders, there is
also a need for international cooperation capable of defining common
strategies, especially in favor of the most vulnerable countries and people, in
order to promote development and overcome welfare dependency. The thinking
behind these choices is the immeasurable dignity of every person, the common
good and a world truly governed for everyone. The interdependence between peace
and development, as Saint Paul VI prophetically
wrote in 1967, [165] remains applicable today, for
prosperity contributes to building and reinforcing peace only if it is
widespread, inclusive and sustainable.
164. In practical terms, in the
age of AI and robotics, ensuring that the economy favors human dignity means
adopting certain criteria for firm action. First, transparency and
accountability: when data and algorithms influence credit distribution,
personnel selection or access to services and opportunities, it is necessary
that decisions be understandable, contestable and subject to oversight, so that
individuals are not reduced to mere profiles. Second, inclusion and access: the
benefits of innovation must be paired with investments in skills,
infrastructure and essential services to ensure that technology does not widen
the gap between those who have and those who have not. Finally, measures to
ensure equity: taxation, social protection and industrial policies must correct
the imbalances created by the concentration of wealth and power. Indeed, these
criteria do not constitute a curb on innovation; instead they make it civilized
and humane.
Families and young people: the social conditions for hope
165. The family is a primary
social good. Founded on the enduring union between a man and a woman, it is the
first environment in which all persons develop their potential, become aware of
their dignity and learn the earliest forms of truth and goodness, internalizing
the habits that prepare them for life in society. [166] As the first natural society,
endowed with foundational rights, the family is the fundamental and
irreplaceable cell of every community organization. [167] Consequently, when political
projects and major economic decisions relegate the family to a marginal or
secondary role, the authentic growth of the entire social body is
compromised. [168]
166. The family, however, is a
fragile social good immediately affected by the economic and technological
transformations reshaping the nature of work. It thus requires cultural,
juridical and economic support. The devastating impact of unemployment and job
insecurity on family structures is well known. In the short term, it may seem
advantageous to reduce labor costs or maximize financial efficiency, but in the
long term this undermines the very foundations of social coexistence. While
technological successes are celebrated, the social fabric is progressively
eroded, as if by a silent virus.
167. For young people, job
insecurity is particularly devastating. As the Bishops of the United States of
America have recalled, work is not merely a source of income but a crucial
sphere in which identity is formed, friendships and relationships are forged,
practical responsibilities are learned and one’s vocation is discerned. [169] When access to work is hindered by
high levels of unemployment, inadequate systems of training or structural
barriers, many young people find the path to their human and professional
fulfilment blocked. The need to change jobs several times over the course of
life requires that continuous updating and retraining be provided, so that new
generations can competently and independently face the risks of an economic
environment that is both changing and often unpredictable. [170]
168. This gives rise to a
specific public responsibility. The State has the duty to support business
activity by fostering conditions favorable to employment, promoting work where
it is lacking and defending it in times of crisis, since it is a primary good
for families and for society. [171] Particularly in an age of
continuous technological transformation, we need a political creativity that
will promote “work” and place the family and coming generations at the center;
otherwise our economic progress will translate into new forms of insecurity and
exclusion.
169. Supporting families and
young people in this transition requires choices that make stability feasible.
As has been noted above, labor policies need to promote continuity and the
quality of employment, countering insecurity as a normal condition of life and
encouraging realistic paths for entry into the workforce and for professional
growth. Second, measures are needed to ensure a healthy way of living, for
without a proper balance between work, leisure and rest, families are weakened
and young people struggle to develop a sense of responsibility.
Furthermore, it is essential to invest in accessible education and retraining,
so that the professional mobility demanded by the digital economy does not
become a harsh selection between those who are able to update their skills and
those who cannot. Finally, social ties must be supported, with networks and
educational communities that accompany life choices and prevent uncertainty
from giving rise to loneliness or addictions. If implemented, these
technological transformations can be navigated without undermining the capacity
to build the future, which is what makes a society prosperous.
Protecting freedom against dependencies and
commercialization
Dependencies and societal
control
170. Having reflected on truth
and education, work and families, we must now consider the impact of the
digital revolution on human freedom, addressing risks to both the mental health
of individuals and broader social challenges. The subtler forms of addiction
linked to the “digital attention economy” should not be underestimated, since
platforms and services are often designed to capture users’ time and attention,
exploiting their vulnerabilities and weakening their inner freedom. When
business models thrive on human weakness, the person is treated as a means
rather than as an end; those who design or finance such systems bear a moral
responsibility that cannot be ignored. There is an urgent need to promote
technologies that strengthen interior freedom by fostering education in digital
sobriety and the protection of minors, thus countering models that exploit
vulnerability.
171. A further risk, less visible
but no less serious, is that of social control made possible by the massive
collection of data and use of algorithmic systems. When every action—movements,
purchases, relationships and preferences—leaves a trace, a new form of power
emerges, namely the power to profile, predict and influence behavior, often
without individuals being fully aware of it. If such kinds of data are used to
make decisions affecting concrete opportunities — such as access to credit,
employment or essential services — there is a risk of undermining freedom and
discriminating against the most vulnerable. Furthermore, control is exercised
not only through explicit prohibitions, but also through the architecture of
visibility: what is amplified or rendered invisible, what is rewarded or penalized,
ultimately shapes opinions and choices, fostering conformity and
self-censorship. For this reason, freedom in the digital age is not merely a
matter of interiority but also a public concern. It calls for clear rules,
transparency, the possibility of recourse and proportionate limits on the use
of intrusive technologies, so that technology will remain at the service of the
human person and not become a form of control over consciences.
172. At the root of these
problems lies a technocratic and post-humanist mentality that tends to regard
the human person as an object to be manipulated or a resource to be
optimized, [172] removing all safeguards against
the unchecked pursuit of profit. What prevails is efficiency, rather than
respect for freedom and human dignity. Some post-humanist currents even go so
far as to envision “second-class” human beings, subordinate to the interests of
elites who consider themselves superior. This troubling prospect becomes all
the more serious when combined with technological tools that exponentially
increase the capacity for control and selection. Even certain forms of
structural indebtedness, which keep entire peoples in conditions of dependence,
reflect the same mentality, in new forms, that tolerates relationships of
subordination akin to slavery.
Breaking the chains of new forms of slavery
173. This distorted view of the
human person is reflected today in various forms of servitude directly linked
to the digital economy. Nothing in the world of AI is immaterial or magical.
Every seemingly immediate and flawless response is the result of a long chain
of mediation, involving vast networks of natural resources, energy
infrastructure and, above all, people. A significant part of the digital
economy’s functioning relies on the silent work of millions of people engaged
in essential yet largely unseen activities, such as data labeling, model
training and content moderation, often involving disturbing material. In many
cases, these workers are young people, predominantly women, working under
demanding conditions for minimal wages. Added to this invisible labor is the
even harsher work of extracting the resources required for the production of
the devices and microprocessors on which AI depends. In some regions of the
world, children and adolescents work in dangerous conditions, crushing the
materials from which rare earth elements are extracted. The bodies of these
people are scarred, injured and worn down so that computational flow may
continue uninterruptedly. Furthermore, criminal networks use online platforms,
messaging systems, anonymous payment methods and profiling techniques in order
to recruit, control and transport victims of trafficking — very often minors —
reducing men and women to “data” to be tracked and “packages” to be moved
around within the same digital circuits that support much of the global
economy. This reality deeply challenges the moral conscience of our time. It is
not enough to invoke efficiency, nor to celebrate the benefits of innovation,
if they are built on a chain of exploitation that remains deliberately hidden.
If technology promises emancipation, yet produces new forms of global
subordination, it stands in contradiction to the fundamental principle of human
dignity.
174. The fight against new forms
of slavery is a decisive test for the ethical discernment of AI and digital
transformation. In continuity with the tradition inaugurated by Leo XIII, the Church
renews her firm condemnation of all forms of slavery, trafficking and the
commodification of persons. She likewise highlights the urgent need for
reflection and action that keep the inalienable dignity of every human being
and the common good, as both the focus and goal of society, as well as the
guiding criteria for every personal, social and political choice. Without this
ethical and humanizing reflection, the growing power of digital systems could
lead us toward new atrocities that are no less shameful than those of the past
that we now deplore, while we continue to present ourselves as “advanced” and
“civilized” societies.
175. Human trafficking must be
recognized as a contemporary form of slavery and a grave violation of human
dignity. Failing to respond firmly, or tolerating these practices in any way,
is in some way to become complicit in today’s sins, which are akin to those of
the past when slavery was being concealed and justified. [173]
176. In the development of her
doctrine, the Church has gradually come to a deeper awareness of the gravity of
these issues. It is true that past events cannot be judged anachronistically,
as though the moral criteria that matured over time had always been available.
Yet neither can we deny or diminish the delay with which both society and the
Church came to denounce the scourge of slavery. In antiquity and the Middle
Ages many individuals and even ecclesiastical institutions had slaves. Already
in the early modern period, the Apostolic See of Rome, responding to requests
from Sovereigns, intervened several times in order to regulate and legitimize
forms of subjugation, and, in certain cases, the enslavement of
“infidels.” [174] It was only in the nineteenth
century that a formal, absolute and universal condemnation of slavery was
clearly articulated, notably under Pope Leo XIII. [175] This development offers a clear
example of the Church’s growth in understanding the perennial truths of
Revelation that she safeguards. Although there was not always consistency in
practice — given that slavery was long tolerated before being unequivocally
condemned — there has been a continuous affirmation throughout history of the
dignity of every human being, created in the image of God, even if it took
eighteen centuries for its full incompatibility with slavery to be explicitly
recognized. This constitutes a wound in Christian memory, one from which we
cannot consider ourselves detached. [176] It is impossible not to feel deep
sorrow when contemplating the immense suffering and humiliation endured by so
many in stark contrast to their immeasurable dignity as persons infinitely
loved by the Lord. For this, in the name of the Church, I sincerely ask for
pardon.
177. This is why the memory of
past complicity and blindness in the face of the injustice of slavery becomes a
call to vigilance. What we have learned must be translated into discernment and
responsibility in the present. If we want to avoid the need to ask for pardon
again in the future for having failed to respect the treasure of human dignity
that is required by our faith, it falls to us today to denounce, clearly and
firmly, trafficking in its many forms and, together with all who are committed
to this cause, to support concrete efforts of prevention, protection,
liberation and rehabilitation.
178. Even today,
colonialism assumes new forms. It no longer dominates only bodies, but
appropriates data, transforming personal lives into exploitable information.
Entire regions, especially those marked by structural fragility and limited
geopolitical relevance, are currently subjected to a new mindset of extraction:
that of health data, epidemiological profiles, genetic maps and demographic
information. These have become the new “rare earths” of power: vital data
which, once aggregated and analyzed, can be used to train predictive models,
guide investment strategies, anticipate crises and, above all, determine who
and what is deemed to matter. Those who control the health data of entire
peoples — often collected under the pretext of aid, research or innovation —
possess a structural leverage over the future, for they can shape needs and
markets. They can also decide, before others, to whom medicines, investments and
protections will be allocated. Here lies one of the most urgent moral
challenges of our time: to ensure that shared knowledge becomes a true common
good rather than an instrument of dominance. This requires restoring to
individuals not only the data that describes them, but also the ability to
decide how it is used, by whom and for whose benefit. Otherwise, the digital
age will not be post-colonial, but colonial in another form.
179. New forms of slavery are
fueled by economic chains and digital infrastructures. Therefore, action
is required on several fronts. First, the supply chains that underpin the
technological industry and the digital economy need to become more transparent,
so that no competitive advantage is built upon hidden exploitation. Second,
companies and investors need to adopt clear criteria for preventive ethical
verification (due diligence), placing among their priorities the protection of
workers, the fight against forced labor and the assessment of the social impact
of data-driven business models. Furthermore, digital platforms must cooperate
responsibly with authorities and civil society to prevent communication,
payment and profiling tools from becoming channels for the recruitment and
control of victims. When such efforts converge, the digital environment can be
transformed from a space of exploitation into one of protection, prevention and
the promotion of human dignity.
180. The various areas just
considered— the search for the truth in public life, education in the digital
environment, the transformation of work, the fragility of families and new
forms of slavery—are not isolated phenomena. Rather, they reflect a common
underlying issue, namely that if technology becomes the ultimate criterion, the
human person risks being reduced to data, a cog in a machine or a commodity.
If, however, technology is integrated with a wise perspective, it can become an
instrument of growth, justice and fraternity.
181. From this perspective, the
Social Doctrine of the Church calls for a shared responsibility. It asks that
these processes be guided with foresight: by institutions capable of regulating
without stifling, and protecting without taking over; by businesses that
recognize work and dignity as measures of success; by intermediary
organizations and educational communities that rebuild trust and relationships;
and by citizens who cultivate responsibility, moderation, discernment and a
sense of truth. Only in this way can innovation genuinely serve integral human
development, rather than becoming a source of exclusion and dominance. And only
in this way can the promise of progress be recognized as authentic, because it
is measured against the inviolable dignity of every man and woman.
THE
CULTURE OF POWER AND THE CIVILIZATION OF LOVE
182. Having considered how AI is
transforming certain aspects of life and society, in particular the serious
implications for human dignity, we must now turn our attention to the yet more
tragic issue of war. Here the question is not merely the efficiency of new
tools, but also the risk that technology, detached from ethics and
responsibility, will render decisions about life and death more rapid and
impersonal, and will present the use of force as an immediate and viable
option. In an increasingly interdependent world, peace is not simply one issue
among others, but a prerequisite for the universal common good and a test of
the moral maturity of peoples, especially of those who bear responsibility for
governing.
183. The digital revolution is
changing the nature of conflict. Alongside conventional warfare, there are
hybrid forms such as cyberattacks, information manipulation, campaigns of
influence and the automation of strategic decisions. AI acts as an accelerating
factor in these processes, particularly within a context where many
technologies are intrinsically ambivalent. Consequently, what is created for
defense can be rapidly repurposed for offense, and the fine line between
protection and aggression becomes blurred. While AI can enhance the defense and
protection of civilians, it can also lower the threshold for the use of force,
shield people from responsibility and foster a culture in which the enemy is
reduced to a statistic and the victim to “collateral damage.” Faced with these
transformations, we must recall the principles of Social Doctrine — the dignity
of the person, the common good, the universal destination of goods,
subsidiarity, solidarity and justice — for they are criteria for judging
whether technologies truly serve humanity or are subjugating it. We should,
therefore, consider these principles as guidelines for our decision-making.
184. In this chapter, therefore,
I will compare two opposing approaches, which I have already evoked through
biblical imagery in the Introduction. On the one hand, there is the temptation
of constructing the Tower of Babel, relying on power and pride. On the other
hand, patience is required in order to rebuild Jerusalem “piece by piece,” as
in the time of Nehemiah, by safeguarding humanity and the common good.
185. If we examine global
dynamics, we can recognize more clearly the spread of a culture of power
characterized by polarization and violence. The modern Babel can be seen not
only in the globalized technocratic paradigm, but also in the remote clash
between opposing imperialisms, between powers that wish to preserve their
supremacy, and those that aspire to seize that supremacy, resulting in a
multiplicity of local conflicts. Moreover, there seems to be no limit to the
race — driven by a dehumanizing ambition — to develop evermore powerful
technologies or to secure control over them. Yet, despite this downward spiral,
we can also glimpse a great part of humanity that is striving to remain human
and working to build the holy city of coexistence and peace. All too often, we
are unwitting builders and clumsy architects of this city, capable of generous
gestures but lacking an overall vision. This building project is slower, less
visible and less spectacular, and awaits a better understanding and greater
coordination so that it may become the conscious and clear responsibility of
every community, from families to States, and the relations between Nations. It
is this prospect of commitment, this construction site of hope, that we call
the “civilization of love.”
The
civilization of love in the digital age
186. When Saint Paul VI coined
the phrase “the civilization of love,” [177] the world was in the midst of the
Cold War, an arms race and severe economic instability. In that context, the
Church proposed an alternative path to that of ideological opposition between
systems, and envisioned a social order in which justice and charity are
intertwined and love becomes the guiding principle of economic, political and
cultural life. Today, we must resolutely recover this vision, for the
civilization of love is no naïve utopia, but a demanding project, which
consists in translating charity into structures of justice, giving
institutional form to fraternity and regarding others — whether individuals or
peoples — as allies necessary for building the common good. As the Encyclical
Letter Fratelli
Tutti reminded us, only this social love is capable of becoming a
culture and a norm, and thereby of bringing about a stable international order,
transforming mere armed coexistence into a community with a shared
future. [178]
187. This insight proves even
more fundamental in the current context of digital transformation. Digital
networks, the globalized economy and the development of AI create increasingly
tighter bonds, linking — in real time — decisions made in one place to the
effects they produce elsewhere. In this sense, the words of the
Second Vatican Council on the growing interdependence between peoples
remain timely, for the common good is taking on an increasingly universal
dimension, with rights and duties concerning the entire human family. [179] The project for a civilization of
love, therefore, must undertake the task of transforming this imposed
interdependence into a willed and chosen solidarity. This is the guiding
principle for technological processes: it is not enough for artificial intelligence
to make us more efficient or connected; it must also serve to build a universal
human family, with shared rights and duties, where digital proximity becomes a
real opportunity for encounter and mutual care.
188. In our time, a culture of
power is taking hold, in which the availability of resources and the ability to
dominate tend to dictate the agenda and criteria for decision-making. In this
way, the common good of humanity is relegated to the background and the
concrete tragedy of peoples at war is reduced to a secondary consideration in
relation to strategic interests. This culture of power infiltrates society,
changes relationships and behaviors, and grows by normalizing war, pursuing
ever-greater military power, taking advantage of the crisis of multilateralism
and fueling a false realism that insists that there is no alternative.
189. In 1965, the words of Saint Paul VI resounded
powerfully at the UN General Assembly: “Never again war, never again
war!” [180] We must acknowledge that, despite
the desires and declarations for peace, the past sixty years have been marked
by conflicts of astonishing brutality, often affecting civilian populations on
a massive scale, leading to the death of innocent victims, mass displacement,
social destabilization and long-lasting wounds. Nevertheless, in public
discourse, there was a widespread conviction that war should remain a last
resort, subject to strict ethical and legal limits, and always oriented toward
a political vision of peace. Following developments in the immediate post-First
World War period, a turning point occurred after the Second World War: peace
was made the focus of the international order, as attested in particular by the
United Nations Charter, with the intention to “save succeeding generations from
the scourge of war.” [181] Likewise, many national
constitutions restricted the use of force to extreme and strictly limited
circumstances. Even during the Cold War, despite the existence of serious
conflicts, there remained the awareness that a new world war had to be avoided
at all costs.
190. Today, however, we are
witnessing a real paradigm shift in public discourse and in decisions regarding
rearmament, with a troubling revival of war as an instrument of international
politics, while the very ethical principles that had previously limited its use
are being eroded. Regional conflicts that drag on over time, escalating tensions
and reciprocal threats are becoming almost commonplace, and forms of conflict
driven by the desire for territorial expansion that were thought to be overcome
are re-emerging. Public opinion is gradually being shaped and conditioned by
polarizing media narratives, which are often amplified by algorithms that
prioritize conflict and confrontation.
191. We are also witnessing a
disconcerting loss of historical memory, as first-hand accounts of the
Holocaust and the two World Wars are disappearing. This leads to a selective or
distorted rewriting of the past, in a context where fake news and the
manipulation of narratives obscure the lessons that have been learned. Without
a living memory of the horrors of war, political decisions risk being made on
the basis of power alone, without any consideration for the long-term
consequences.
192. To all of this, the media
and digital dimensions are adding new and decisive elements. Communication
networks, fragmented information environments and algorithms that reward conflict
can magnify polarization and resentment, increase propaganda and make shared
discernment more difficult. Thus, war is not only fought, but also culturally
conditioned through simplistic narratives, a friend-or-foe mentality,
disinformation and fear. When historical memory fades and the ethical
principles that protect civilians and the most vulnerable are weakened, it
becomes easier to justify violence as necessary, inevitable or even
“sanitized.” It is in this context that humanity is slipping into a violent
culture of power, where peace no longer appears as a responsibility to be taken
on, but as a fragile interval between conflicts. Today, more than ever, without
prejudice to the right to self-defense in the strictest sense, it is important
to reaffirm that the “just war” theory, which has all too often been used to
justify any kind of war, is now outdated. [182] Humanity possesses far more
effective and capable tools for promoting human life and resolving conflicts,
such as dialogue, diplomacy and forgiveness. The use of force, violence and
weapons reflects a relational poverty that always has disastrous consequences
for civilian populations.
193. The growth of the
military-industrial complex has become a defining feature of the current
political landscape and has become a key sector in the economy of various
countries. The close link between economic interests, the military apparatus
and political decisions produces an “armed nation,” in which war appears as a
natural extension of politics, and the arms market becomes an autonomous
driving force behind military decisions. Nor can we ignore the enormous economic
interests behind war. The armaments industry, and countries that supply
weapons, profit from a market that thrives precisely on conflicts. In this
sense, there are also financial interests that contribute to fueling tensions
in various regions of the world.
194. Military arsenals are
receiving renewed attention. In the past, recognition of the threat posed by
weapons capable of destroying all of humanity had promoted paths toward détente and
disarmament negotiations. Unfortunately, this approach has been left behind,
and the evolution of nuclear arsenals — including the prospect of its
“tactical” use — makes the use of such weapons seem less improbable. In this
context, the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, which came into
force in 2021 with the support of over seventy countries, is an important step.
However, it risks remaining largely symbolic since the major nuclear powers
have not agreed to it. This has led to the widespread yet erroneous belief that
nuclear deterrence is an indispensable prerequisite for security. This has also
contributed to a new arms race, which is hard to control and accompanied by the
gradual dismantling of nuclear reduction agreements, as well as the development
of “miniaturized” weapons, that make their use seem like a more viable option.
195. The same logic applies to
conventional warfare. Military force, weak diplomatic initiatives and the
complexity of the interests at stake contribute to conflicts that tend to
become protracted, with extremely high human and environmental costs. It is
much easier to start a war than to stop it, and yet, discussion on conflict
prevention remains tragically marginal.
196. The situation is further
destabilized by the presence of new armed operatives, such as jihadist groups,
private militias and criminal networks that mark the end of the State’s
monopoly on the use of force. Often these groups intertwine vague ideological
motivations with concrete economic interests, transforming war into a “way of
life” for entire generations of young people and children. Here, the objective
is no longer a definitive victory, but the perpetuation of conflict as a source
of power and income.
Weapons and artificial
intelligence
197. The above-mentioned scenario
is linked to the unceasing development of weapons systems, particularly those
involving AI. The Holy See has recently observed that the growing ease with
which autonomous weapons systems can be deployed makes war more “feasible” and
less subject to human control. This violates the principle that armed force
should be used only as a last resort in cases of legitimate self-defense. [183] For this reason, the development
and use of AI in warfare must be subject to the most rigorous ethical
constraints, to guarantee respect for human dignity and the sanctity of life
and to avoid a race to develop such arms. [184]
198. Sometimes there is talk of
“artificial moral agents,” as if machines were able to distinguish between
right and wrong with greater consistency than a human being. Yet moral judgment
cannot be reduced to calculation, for it involves conscience, personal
responsibility and the recognition of the other as a person. Therefore, it is
not permissible to entrust lethal or otherwise irreversible decisions to
artificial systems. No algorithm can make war morally acceptable. AI does not
remove the intrinsic inhumanity of conflict; indeed it can only bring about
conflict more quickly and render it more impersonal, lowering the threshold for
resorting to violence, transforming defense into threat prediction and thus
reducing victims to data. In this way, it will accustom us to the idea that
violence is inevitable and needs only to be optimized. This does not diminish
the importance of instilling, as far as possible, values and sound judgment
into the artificial systems we build, so that they can contribute to a moral
ecosystem in which humans are better able to listen to their own consciences,
as well as allowing AI models to establish appropriate boundaries.
199. It is not enough to invoke a
generic type of ethics. Concrete criteria for discernment must be established.
The first such criterion concerns personal responsibility. When a decision to
strike becomes automated or opaque, the risk of abdicating responsibility
increases. For this reason, the chain of responsibility must be identifiable
and verifiable; those who design, train, authorize and employ technology must
be held accountable for their decisions. The second criterion pertains to the
moral timeframe for making judgments. While AI tends to expedite the
decision-making processes, speed and efficiency should never be the supreme
motivating force for the irreversible decisions made in the context of war. The
third criterion is the identification and protection of civilians. Any
technology that facilitates attacks without seeing the face of human beings
lowers the moral threshold of conflict. Target selection and the use of force
must not confuse combatants and non-combatants, nor ignore the impact on
defenseless populations.
200. These criteria give rise to
certain non-negotiable requirements. First, all systems used in a war setting
must guarantee the possibility of retracing and reconstructing decision-making
processes, so that accountability and blame are not collapsed into “the
machine.” Second, the decision to use lethal force cannot be delegated to
opaque or automated processes, but must remain under effective, self-aware and
responsible human control. Finally, it is imperative to establish a shared
framework — also at the international level — in order to curb the
technological arms race and ensure robust protection for civilians and the
infrastructures necessary for their survival.
201. The culture of power also
stems from the crisis of the multilateral system. The institutions established
to safeguard the concept of a common future for all peoples and a global common
good appear to have been weakened. This is due not only to structural
limitations, but also to a frequent lack of shared will to support and reform
them, or to recognize their moral authority. Instead of making progress, we are
regressing from the significant turning point of the twentieth century. After
1989, the collapse of communist regimes in Europe was followed by a
predominantly economic globalization, which lacked an adequate political
framework capable of sustaining dialogue and peace. An almost blind faith was
placed in the ability of the markets to generate prosperity, democracy and
stability. In reality, rather than automatically generating unity and peace,
globalization has provoked fundamentalist, identity-based and nationalistic
reactions. The result is a far cry from genuine multilateralism; instead, what
has appeared is a disorderly and conflict-ridden multipolarism with a
prevailing sense of mistrust.
202. What has also re-emerged is
the temptation to forge a collective identity in opposition to an enemy, fueled
by narratives in which each party portrays itself as a victim entitled to
retribution. The reduction of complex issues into simplistic categories — “me
first,” “friend or foe,” “us or them” — facilitates decisions that are often
irresponsible and undermine mutual trust among nations. The force of
international law is thus replaced by the claim that “might makes right.”
Consequently, tribunals that are competent for settling disputes between States
or dealing with war crimes are often weakened or bypassed, with devastating
ramifications for political culture and social cohesion. [185]
203. In this context,
peacebuilding has been relegated to a secondary role. Cooperation for
development, disarmament, conflict prevention and the establishment of mutual
trust are neglected in the name of power politics. The achievements of
humanitarian law are also being compromised. Indeed, the principle of proportionality
in responding to aggression, the protection of access to water, food and
essential goods, and respect for the lives of civilians, especially children,
come to be regarded as naïve relics of the past.
204. We live at a time of
significant spiritual and cultural blindness. A false pragmatism urges us to
sever the roots of our history, as if it were possible to inaugurate a kind of
“new creation” detached from the past. Even those who cite important moral
principles can fall into this historical nihilism, mistakenly believing that
the atrocities of the twentieth century can never happen again. Yet, in
reality, the same dynamics are re-emerging under new guises. The mentality of
armed equilibrium and deterrence appears to be reasserting itself. Today,
however, in contrast to the two-sided dynamic of the Cold War, the
proliferation of operatives and battlefields makes this mentality increasingly
fragile. Escalating conflicts lead to asymmetric and “hybrid” wars, fought not
only on the battleground but also on the economic, financial and cyber fronts,
where disinformation and campaigns that feed people’s fears are used to
manipulate public opinion. In many countries, including those in the Global
South, increased military spending is presented as the only response to an
uncertain future or perceived threats. Meanwhile, the real cost falls on the
poorest, who see resources for healthcare, education and social services being
reduced.
205. At the core of these issues
is a false realism, based not only on the prevailing mentality of force, but on
the cultural and anthropological belief that war is an inevitable part of human
nature. It is said that things have always been this way, except for occasional
pauses, and that it will always be so! As a result, the concern is no longer
the search for peace — which has been lost as a point of reference on the
international stage — but rather how and when to take military action. This
same argument maintains that it would be irresponsible not to prepare for
conflict. I would argue, however, that what is truly irresponsible is Realpolitik, the
form of political “realism” that sows in consciences and in society an attitude
of resignation to the inevitability of war, and dismisses peace and dialogue as
utopian or irrational positions that ignore the risks at stake. In fact, peace
is neither a naïve hope nor merely the absence of war; instead, it is always
possible as the fruit of justice and charity.
206. In such a climate, nihilism
and pragmatism become intertwined and end up normalizing grave errors.
Religious extremism and identity-based fanaticism ally themselves with
irrational economic policies, while politics often turns to misinformation and
ridiculing opponents, and systematically cultivating fears and resentments.
Thus, diversity is increasingly perceived as a threat, which fuels a desire for
possession, a will to dominate, hegemonic ambitions, abuses of power and a fear
of those who are different, thereby creating an environment in which new
conflicts can develop almost imperceptibly. [186]
207. This, then, is the fertile
ground for new wars that are perhaps even more dangerous than those of the
past, since they tend to disregard all ethical limits. What was once considered
unacceptable can now be carried out almost without hesitation, while the
international response is increasingly influenced more by the interests of
individual Governments than by the objective gravity of situations.
Decisions now seem to be driven almost exclusively by economic calculations,
justified through media distortions, manufactured enthusiasm and “dreams” that
inevitably shatter, generating frustration and further violence. When people
come to believe that nothing is genuinely true and that principles are hollow
words, then the fuse in their hearts is lit for new eruptions of intolerance
and aggression.
208. In these situations, the
issue of concrete safeguards to prevent future violence remains an open
question. When a culture normalizes and justifies conflict, a dangerous pathway
opens up, in that what seems unthinkable today may become acceptable tomorrow
in the name of utility or security. In countries marked by serious social
tensions, we cannot rule out the possibility that some leaders may consider
armed conflict as an effective way of diverting attention from domestic
problems and a cynical tool for managing difficulties.
209. A particular responsibility
rests on the shoulders of those who work in the field of research. All the key
players in this field — scientists, business owners, investors, academic
authorities, politicians and others — must work with a transparent and
responsible mindset, while maintaining an acute awareness of the broader
context of the technological advancements they help to cultivate, including
those related to AI. When people limit themselves to looking only at their own
sector, they may deceive themselves into believing they are performing actions
that are morally neutral and avoid questions about the ultimate ends that guide
certain experiments. In this way, they risk cooperating — perhaps unknowingly —
with questionable projects that fuel new forms of violence, manipulation and
dominance.
Building the civilization of love
210. The construction of a world
in a state of perpetual conflict is an evil and must be named for what it is.
This way of portraying our current situation may seem bleak or pessimistic, yet
I consider it necessary to do so. The Christian perspective, however, is not
limited to denouncing evil. We view history in the light of the crucified and
risen Lord, to whom the Father has given “all authority in heaven and on earth”
(Mt 28:18). We do not consider the present as a predetermined fate,
but an opportunity for personal and collective conversion. Moreover, we believe
in the power of the Kingdom, which grows from the tiny size of a mustard seed,
which, once sown, sprouts and grows (cf. Mk 4:26-32). While
the tumult of confusion is all around us, goodness grows silently from the
earth. In the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now
it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Is 43:19).
211. A closer analysis of history
confirms this. Even in the darkest nights, the Lord raises up men and women who
refuse to give up, who persevere in doing good, who protect the vulnerable and
open pathways to reconciliation. The memory of the saints, righteous people and
the oft-forgotten peacemakers, show us that grace does not magically eliminate
conflict, but instead it inspires active resistance to evil and an astonishing
creativity in doing good. Christians see the darkness and acknowledge it for
what it is, yet they do not merely gaze upon it passively, for they know the
light and understand that the darkness has not overcome it and cannot defeat it
(cf. Jn 1:5). For this reason, even when suffering seems to
have the last word, Christians serve the good and are sustained by a theological
hope that gives reality both meaning and direction.
212. At this point, however, a
subtle temptation may emerge, namely the thought that the problems are too big
and we are too small, and that our choices, therefore, cannot make a
difference. This is a polite form of resignation, often disguised as realism.
Certainly, not everyone has the same power to make a difference. There are
those who govern, make investment decisions, lead institutions, conduct
research, educate, produce or provide information, and then there are those who
only seem to live their daily lives. Yet, no one is without responsibility. We
all have our own areas for action, and it is precisely there — and nowhere else
— that we must choose whether to fuel the mentality of force (even if only
through indifference, cynicism, lies or hatred), or to preserve the mindset of
peace (with truth, moderation, closeness and care).
213. The twentieth-century
Catholic author J.R.R. Tolkien, in the words of a protagonist in one of his
novels, described our responsibility in this way: “It is not our part to master
all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those
years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so
that those who live after may have clean earth to till.” [187] The civilization of love will not
arise from a single or spectacular gesture, but from the sum total of small and
steadfast acts of fidelity that serve as a bulwark against dehumanization. For
this reason, it is worthwhile pausing to reflect on some aspects of how we,
each in our own way, can cooperate in building the civilization of love.
Without presuming to exhaust this theme, I would like to propose five paths
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.
214. The first contribution we
can make toward a more humane civilization is to be mindful of our words. “Let
us disarm words and we will help to disarm the world.” [188] Words have enormous power,
something we experience in our daily interactions; for example, spoken words
can change our mood for better or for worse. “Peace begins with each one of us:
in the way we look at others, listen to others and speak about others. In this
sense, the way we communicate is of fundamental importance: we must say ‘no’ to
the war of words and images, we must reject the paradigm of war.” [189] We must all, therefore, examine
our conscience regarding the words we use, the prejudices we have and the
explicit or implicit aggression that lies within them. We have a real
opportunity to contribute to the common good each time we speak the truth,
offer wise advice, support those in need of comfort, denounce injustice and
give a voice to the voiceless.
Building peace through justice
215. All of us, at every level,
can contribute to building the foundation of peace, which is justice. We do not
merely seek any kind of peace — such as an absence of conflict at any cost —
but instead, the true peace born of justice. “There exists a very close
connection between the justice of the individual and the peace of
everyone.” [190] Commenting on the psalm verse “justice
and peace have embraced” ( Ps 84:11), Saint Augustine wrote:
“There is no one who shuns the desire for peace, yet not everyone is willing to
practice justice… But perform the works of justice, keeping in mind that
justice and peace have embraced; they are not at odds with one another. Why do
you set yourself against justice? Here, for example, is justice telling you not
to steal, but you pay no heed; not to commit adultery, and you turn a deaf ear;
not to do to others what you would not want done to yourself; not to say about
your neighbor the things you would not want said about yourself… Do you
therefore wish to attain peace? Then practice justice!” [191] Let us never grow weary of seeking
justice!
Adopting the perspective
of victims
216. There are times when, in
order to remain human, we must set aside our reservations and take a stand. In
some conflicts, it is unjust to remain neutral, nor is it enough merely to
claim that we are not complicit. [192] When we witness the bombing of
civilians, attacks on hospitals, schools or vital infrastructure, and violence
that affects children, we are confronted with scandals that wound humanity
itself. For this reason, we cannot limit ourselves to the level of abstract
analysis. Pope
Francis encouraged us to “touch the wounded flesh” [193] of those who suffer, look at their
faces, listen to their stories and acknowledge their wounds. Painful events
require both history and memory, the former to recount the facts, the latter to
bear witness to lived experiences.
217. Giving space to the
perspectives and voices of victims through communication and education helps us
to become aware of the abyss of evil inherent in war, and generally in all
forms of violence. It helps us to reject the normalization of conflict; not to
turn away when human dignity is violated; and to restore to victims the dignity
of being recognized and heard. [194] Paying attention to these voices
strengthens the conviction that, apart from violent minorities, humanity does
not desire war. In a particular way, the Church can be a place of living memory
for victims. As Saint
Paul VI recalled, the Church feels she must make her own both the
voice of those who died in past wars and the voice of the living who still bear
wounds today, so that their cries may become an appeal for peace and harmony
and not a prelude to new conflicts. [195]
218. We are in need of a healthy
realism that avoids both political idealism and cynicism. There is a kind of
idealism that, in order to preserve its own worldview, tends to choose facts
selectively, distorting and renaming them. Its proponents eventually, inhabit a
reality constructed to fit their own convictions. Conversely, there is also a
debased form of realism that confuses observation with resignation, arguing
that since force prevails, it will always prevail. Authentic realism does not
give up on changing the world; indeed, it starts by clearly identifying
interests, fears, constraints and power dynamics, precisely in order to
determine what can be achieved, and the measures needed to achieve it. It does
not reduce politics to morality; neither does it surrender to violence.
Instead, it seeks viable paths for making peace more than a mere word, through
credible institutions, verifiable guarantees, patient negotiations, conflict
prevention and the protection of civilians.
219. In order to build the
civilization of love, we must engage in dialogue, for this is the primary means
of coexistence between people and nations, and it is the alternative to open
conflict. On the eve of the Second World War, Pius XII affirmed
that nothing is lost with peace, whereas with war everything can be lost. He
insisted that people must return to speaking with one another, because a
sincere and persevering dialogue always opens up the possibility of an
honorable solution. [196]
220. Indeed, dialogue is an
ordinary part of human life and does not only concern relations between States.
It involves acquiring an attitude that seeks to forge bonds of fraternity built
on listening, an open demeanor, making time for each other and even wasting
time together. For if we experience authentic encounters with others, with
those who are different, strangers and migrants, it becomes much more difficult
even to imagine war.
221. At the political level,
there is an urgent need to shift from the “culture of power” to a genuine
“culture of negotiation,” in which dialogue and diplomacy become the standard
means of resolving conflicts. Giorgio La Pira expressed the hope that “the
method of war be replaced by the method of peace: the method of negotiation, of
encounter, of convergence, that is, the authentically human method!” [197] The awareness that all peoples
share a common future demands that the “culture of negotiation” become an
increasingly shared political and cultural commitment, capable of gradually
leading humanity away from the cycle of violence.
222. To those who have the honor
and responsibility of governing, I would like to repeat the words that I spoke
at the start of my Pontificate: “The peoples of our world desire peace, and to
their leaders I appeal with all my heart: Let us meet, let us talk, let
us negotiate! War is never inevitable. Weapons can and must be silenced, for
they do not resolve problems but only increase them. Those who make history are
the peacemakers, not those who sow seeds of suffering. Our neighbors are not
first our enemies, but our fellow human beings; not criminals to be hated, but
other men and women with whom we can speak. Let us reject the Manichean notions
so typical of that mindset of violence that divides the world into those who
are good and those who are evil.” [198]
223. In rejecting the mindset of
violence, interreligious dialogue plays a decisive role, because at the heart
of the great spiritual paths lies a message of peace. [199] Whereas those who use the name of
God to legitimize terrorism, violence or war betray his true nature, for to
fight in the name of religion means attacking religion itself. [200] The “spirit of Assisi,” evoked
by Saint
John Paul II and carried forward by Pope Francis —
for example, through his dialogue with the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar — shows that
believers can draw upon the most authentic sources of their particular
spiritual traditions, where there is no room for “sanctified hatred.”
The necessity of diplomacy and
multilateralism
224. In international
relations, dialogue is an irreplaceable diplomatic tool for preventing
conflicts and rebuilding bonds of trust. Faced with the impulsive broadcasts,
aggressive rhetoric and power politics that characterize our time, “the
vocation of diplomacy is to foster dialogue with all parties, including those
interlocutors considered less ‘convenient’ or not considered legitimized to
negotiate.” [201] Therefore, every ounce of humility
and patience should be employed in order to nurture even the faintest signs of
goodwill among parties in conflict, so as to advance the process of peace.
225. Cyberspace too has become a
battleground. Cyberattacks, data manipulation and campaigns of influence,
orchestrated with the help of AI, can destabilize entire countries even before
open armed conflict erupts. Moreover, in this area, the attribution of
responsibility is often uncertain. When it is unclear who carried out an
attack, the risk of disproportionate reaction, miscalculation and escalation
increases. For this reason, diplomacy must be capable of operating effectively
in this new environment, negotiating shared regulations on the use of digital
technologies, in order to protect civilians and the most vulnerable from
“invisible” yet real forms of violence.
226. International organizations,
particularly the United Nations, are essential instruments for promoting a
civilization of love, for they can foster dialogue among nations and promote
the peaceful resolution of conflicts, the integral development of peoples, the
protection of the most vulnerable, disarmament and the care of creation.
Through such efforts, the international community can work to reduce
inequalities, defend the rights of refugees and minorities, reallocate
resources from military spending to human development and protect our common
home. The Holy See supports and accompanies these endeavors, while also
recognizing that the current weaknesses of the UN and the international
political system reveal the need for profound reforms. This is not simply a
question of technical adjustments, for the crisis of convictions and values
that also concerns the ethical foundations of nations makes it more difficult
to direct multilateralism toward the true common good. [202]
227. In the international
context, the Holy See’s diplomacy adopts the Gospel’s principle of mercy as a
concrete criterion for political action. This is one of the ways in which the
Holy See places itself at the service of humanity, thereby appealing to
consciences in the name of charity and truth, defending the dignity of every
person and speaking up on behalf of the poor, migrants and victims of war. In
this way, papal diplomacy expresses the catholicity of the Church and
contributes to the building of a civilization of love, where even new
technologies can be oriented toward the common good.
228. These avenues for exercising
responsibility are sustained by prayer, and in turn nourish prayer. Indeed, for
each of us, peace primarily comes “from God, God who loves us all,
unconditionally.” [203] It is a gift given by Jesus to his
disciples on the day of Easter: “Peace be with you! It is the peace of the
risen Christ. A peace that is unarmed and disarming, humble and
persevering.” [204] With these words, I greeted the
Church and the world on the day of my election to the See of Peter. I wish to
repeat them now, and to invite everyone to pray for this gift. Let us never
tire of praying for peace and of committing ourselves to achieving it in our
relationships and in society.
229. “Let each builder choose
with care how to build” (1 Cor 3:10). With these words, Saint Paul
encouraged the Christians of Corinth to preserve unity. Dear brothers and
sisters, we have reflected on the world we are building, and we asked ourselves
what it means to safeguard the human person in the era of artificial
intelligence. At the end of this reflection, I would like to propose a sober
yet demanding program of Christian life with which we can navigate this epochal
change in the light of the Gospel. This avenue emerges through contemplating
God’s plan, living ecclesial unity by partaking of the Eucharist, building a
world centered on the common good and praying in union with the Blessed Virgin
Mary.
230. Our world is filled with
attempts to seize control of markets and spheres of influence, often shrouded
in reassuring rhetoric and seductive ideologies. Yet our hearts yearn for an
approach that is wise and benevolent, akin to that which Mary praises in
her Magnificat, when she proclaims that God’s mercy extends in
every generation to those who fear him. [205] This plan of mercy continues to
unfold throughout history today, even amid the rapid and unsettling changes
brought by algorithms and global networks, and it becomes a compass in the
digital era for living our lives according to the Gospel.
231. At the heart of everything
is the mystery of the Incarnation, the Word who became flesh and dwelt among
us. The flesh of the Son, poor and vulnerable, evokes the flesh of so many
brothers and sisters stripped of their dignity and reduced to silence. [206] Through the Lord’s closeness, the
gift of peace enters into the world in a paradoxical way. It does so through
the power to become children of God, and is awakened when we allow ourselves to
be moved by the tears of the little ones, the fragility of the elderly, the
silence of victims and the struggle of those who fight against the evil they do
not wish to commit. [207] In this wounded yet beloved flesh,
the Father shows us the true humanity of a life fulfilled through openness and
communion, which leads us to desire that his will be done on earth as it is in
heaven. [208]
232. In the promises of
transhumanism and some posthumanist currents of thought, which seek an enhanced
and almost disembodied humanity, we recognize a yearning that is of concern to
us, namely the need for a fuller life, less exposed to limitations and
suffering. Yet the Incarnation opens a different pathway. On the one hand, old
and new ideologies alike urge humanity to overcome limitations through
technology, and to rise above others by asserting dominance. Contrary to this,
the mystery of the Son of God entering into our human condition promises
something quite different. The living God descends into our history in order to
free us from all forms of slavery. [209] He takes upon himself our weakness
and transforms it into a setting for salvation. There is no moment or human
situation that is not worthy of God. “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.” [210] 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.
“O wonder... man is God and this God-Man passes through all those stages,
endures all those states and ennobles them, sanctifies them, deifies them in
himself!” [211] What saves humanity is the divine
love that descends into the most fragile point of our history and renews it
from within.
233. For this reason, as a
believer among believers, I invite everyone to contemplate, in the face of the
Son of God, the grandeur of humanity that shines a light also
on the era of AI. In Christ, we are called to cooperate in the work of
creation, rather than be disinterested observers of technological processes
that limit our freedom and responsibility. [212] The dignity inscribed in each of
us by the Holy Spirit can also be seen in our capacity to reflect critically,
choose and love freely, and form authentic relationships. No computational
system, however sophisticated, can create a heart that gives itself, or a
conscience that discerns good from evil. Even when machines excel in
efficiency, a human face that asks to be gazed upon remains the center of our
history. This human face is the fullness toward which history is moving. It is
the mystery of “recapitulation”: the certainty that the Father has decreed to
bring all things, those in heaven and those on earth, back to Christ, the one
Head (cf. Eph 1:10). In this plan, nothing will be lost that
is authentically human. Indeed, everything will be purified and reunited in the
One, who gathers every fragment of life, every tear and every authentically
human achievement, rescuing them from nothingness and delivering them,
redeemed, to the Father.
234. The spirituality that we need
is a Eucharistic spirituality, that is, a spirituality of ecclesial unity in
love. The Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery reveal God entering into our
human condition and transforming it through the gift of himself. This gift
remains present and active in the Eucharist, in which the Lord gives himself
and gathers the Church together, so that his offering becomes the principle of
unity and source of new life. It is from this communion that Christian
solidarity also arises, since “union with Christ is also union with all those
to whom he gives himself.” [213] As Saint Augustine explained to
the new Christians of his local Church, the bread and wine on the altar are the
sacrament of the unity of the faithful in Christ: “What is seen is a mere
physical likeness; what is grasped bears spiritual fruit. So now, if you want
to understand the body of Christ, listen to the Apostle Paul speaking to the
faithful: together you are the body of Christ ( 1 Cor 12:27).
If you are the body and members of Christ, then it is your sacrament that is
placed on the table of the Lord; it is your sacrament that you receive. You
respond ‘Amen,’ and by responding in this way you assent to it. For you hear
the words, ‘the Body of Christ’ and respond ‘Amen.’ Be then a member of the
Body of Christ that your Amen may be true!” [214]
235. The “Amen” that we say in
the liturgy, the Body we eat and the Blood we drink shape our entire lives. The
Eucharist “is an extremely personal encounter with the Lord and yet never
simply an act of individual piety.” [215] In the Eucharist we find a visible
manifestation of the reality that we “are the Church of Christ, his members,
his body. We are brothers and sisters in him. And in Christ, though many and
diverse, we are one: In Illo uno unum.” [216] The Eucharist opens us to justice
and sharing, with a preferential concern for those who are burdened by poverty
or marginalization. And while new economic and technological networks can
generate exclusion, isolation and dependencies, the Church — nourished by the
Eucharist — is called to make visible a different paradigm, one that preserves
human connections, gives a voice to the invisible and ensures that processes
are aimed at respecting people’s dignity.
The
construction site of our time
236. The spirituality I
wish to commend is that of the “wise architect” who, driven by hope for the
Kingdom of God, is committed to building the world for the common good
(cf. 1 Cor 3:10). As I mentioned at the beginning of this
reflection, [217] 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. At the end of this reflection, the plan for a civilization of love can
be seen more clearly, and the construction site appears to be already up and
running, thanks especially to the many living stones solidly united to Christ
the cornerstone (cf. 1 Pet 2:4-6). In this task, we are called
to assume an active role, without taking refuge in spiritual
sentimentality or retreating into our own little worlds. We must be
faithful to the truth, invest in education, cultivate relationships and love
justice and peace.
237. Let us remain faithful
to the truth! Living amid incessant flows of information, opinions and images,
we know how easy it can be to influence decisions and preferences through
increasingly sophisticated algorithms. [218] In this context, it is imperative
to cultivate hearts that love the truth, prefer what is right despite the most
appealing content and pursue wisdom rather than immediate results. We must
always keep before us the truth about God and humanity, just as Christ has
revealed them to us. We must lay aside an individualistic and technical view of
humanity, as if reality were mere matter to be shaped according to selfish
interests, whether individual or collective. [219] Instead, let us cultivate
what Pope
Francis called a “situated anthropocentrism,” [220] which recognizes the human being
as a creature embedded in a network of relationships with other living beings
and with all of creation. Fidelity to the truth requires integrating the
possibilities offered by technology within a framework marked by wisdom, which
is capable of safeguarding both the dignity of each person and the future of
our common home.
238. Let us invest in education,
beginning with ourselves! We all need to learn how to engage with the digital
world in a human way, as an integral part of our education in the faith and in
a life lived according to the Gospel. Indeed, we must consider the digital
world as a new continent to be evangelized, one that requires generous
missionaries who are mature in the faith. In a particular way, we need adults
to rediscover their vocation as artisans of education, prepared to work
patiently each day, with the support of extensive and shared educational
partnerships. Today, accompanying children and young people in using technology
for developing responsible relationships, helping them to recognize the risks
and choose what fosters inner freedom, is a concrete form of charity and will
safeguard their dignity. Teaching new generations that technological evolution
does not follow a predetermined path, but can be guided by personal and
collective responsibility, constitutes one of the most valuable services to the
common good.
239. Let us cultivate
relationships! In an era that favors speed and fragmentation, the human person
still yearns to receive care and recognition from attentive minds, kind words
and hands capable of tenderness. The digital culture multiplies connections and
offers new opportunities for interaction; yet, the human heart retains an
irrevocable need for genuine closeness. I invite everyone to cherish places and
times where physical presence remains crucial, such as shared meals, Christian
community gatherings, time spent with the lonely and serving the poor. These
are signs of a humanity that continues to believe that every person’s body is a
dwelling place of God and a temple of the Holy Spirit. It is precisely this
covenant between glory and fragility that becomes the criterion for evaluating
the anthropological models offered by contemporary culture.
240. Let us love justice and
peace! The same technologies that facilitate communication and access to
resources can also support models that exploit the most vulnerable, create new
forms of slavery and derive profit from conflict. Every technical or economic
decision should include spiritual discernment and be an opportunity for
assessing whether the advances in AI are promoting justice and participation or
concentrating wealth and power in the hands of a select few. I would encourage
a careful examination of the supply chains of digital production, the working
conditions hidden behind our devices and the mechanisms that profit from
manipulation and war. At the same time, practical ways of fostering fairness,
participation and care for creation must be found. We proclaim a hope rooted in
the One who came down from heaven to “create a new story here below.” For this
reason, those who believe are committed to ensuring that a greater justice will
take the place of inequality, and that the industry of war will be replaced by
the craft of peace. [221]
241. As we look to the future, I
would like to recall the image of Nehemiah whom we chose as our companion and
guide at the outset. Nehemiah heard the cry of a devastated city, brought that
pain to prayer, discerned before God, asked for help, received permission to
return, organized the work, confronted internal and external resistance and
rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem with the assistance of the people, brick by
brick. In this era of digital transformation, I see in him a striking parable
of our own vocation, which is not to be passive spectators of social and
cultural fractures, nor mere commentators on what is crumbling, but men and
women prepared to enter the construction sites of history — research
laboratories, technology companies, schools, the media, institutions and local
communities — in order to rebuild what has collapsed and protect what is
threatened. Like Nehemiah, we too are called to unite listening and courage,
prayer and responsibility, so that, even when a technocratic mentality or
partisan interests seem to prevail, the human city may become a more fitting
place to live.
242. The image of rebuilding Jerusalem
evokes the New Testament promise of the holy city, which is given to us first
and foremost as a gift. In the Book of Revelation, the new Jerusalem descends
as a gift for all God’s people, “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev 21:2).
The walls of Jerusalem are no longer defensive fortifications, but the precious
adornments of the Bride of the Lamb. Its gates, which Nehemiah guarded so
diligently, remain permanently open to all nations. God’s presence offers light
and life to all. The city is a new Eden, with its living water offered to the
thirsty, and its tree of life whose leaves “are for the healing of the nations”
(Rev 22:2). As we await its fulfillment, this vision is set before
us as an encouragement — a call to overcome our divisions and to work together
— for this is the way of Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and forever.
The
song of hope: the Magnificat
243. After having considered
faith, which contemplates the Father’s loving plan; love, which unites us in
one ecclesial body; and hope, which sustains our actions in the world, the
fourth pillar of this program for Christian life is prayer. Mary’s song
accompanies our commitment. Before Elizabeth who announces to her that she has
become the mother of the Lord, Mary bursts into a hymn of praise and joy. Her
soul magnifies the Lord, and her spirit rejoices in God her Savior, for he
chose a young, poor and humble girl for his plan of salvation. Mary suddenly
sees all of history through the lens of this revelation. Nothing has changed
around her; the socio-political situation of her time remains the same. The
Romans continue to control her land, and her people are still subjugated and
humiliated. Yet, everything has changed within her, and this allows her to see
what is invisible. God has already shown the strength of
his arm; he has already scattered the proud, cast down the
mighty, lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry with good things and sent the
rich away empty-handed. He has already helped Israel, his
servant. God “takes the part of the lowly. His plan is one that is often
hidden beneath the opaque context of human events that see ‘the proud, the
mighty and the rich’ triumph. Yet his secret strength is destined in the end to
be revealed.” [222]
244. The Blessed Virgin Mary not
only teaches us to recognize God’s invisible work, but also directs our gaze to
“the points at which humanity is broken and the world becomes distorted: the
contrast between the humble and the powerful, the poor and the rich, the
satiated and the hungry,” teaching us “to look at the world from a lower
position: through the eyes of those who suffer rather than the mighty; to view
history through the eyes of the little ones, rather than through the
perspective of the powerful; to interpret the events of history from the viewpoint
of the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the wounded child, the exile and the
fugitive.” [223] The Blessed Virgin thus becomes
“poet and prophetess of Redemption,” because on her lips is proclaimed “the
strongest and most innovative hymn ever articulated, the Magnificat;
it is she who reveals the transformative vision of the Christian economy, the
historical and social result that still draws its origin and strength from
Christianity.” [224]
245. With the same faith as Mary,
let us become “weavers of hope” in our world, sharing who we are and what we
have, so that the presence of Jesus may grow among us and his Kingdom take
shape. In the humble fidelity of daily life, even the era of AI can become a
time in which the Holy Spirit brings about the civilization of love in our
lives. Indeed, the Lord continues to make all things new and offers every era
the possibility of becoming part of salvation history in the light of the
Incarnation. I entrust our desire to the Mother of Christ, to the Woman of
the Magnificat, that she may guide our steps through this time of
change and preserve in each of us true faith in the Gospel, so that we may bear
witness to the grandeur of humanity, in which God has made his dwelling.
Given in Rome, at Saint
Peter’s, on 15 May, in the year 2026, the second of my Pontificate.
LEO PP. XIV
[1] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 22: AAS 58 (1966), 1042.
[2] Cf. ibid.,
11: AAS 58 (1966), 1033-1034.
[3] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Dogmatic Constitution Lumen
Gentium, 1: AAS 57 (1965), 5.
[4] Cf. Leo XIII, Encyclical Letter Rerum
Novarum (15 May 1891), 22: ASS 23 (1890-1891),
653.
[5] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 69: AAS 101 (2009),
702.
[6] Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 104: AAS 107
(2015), 888.
[8] Saint Augustine, Confessions,
I, 1, 1: CCSL 27, Turnhout 1981, 1.
[9] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 183: AAS 105 (2013),
1097.
[10] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 36: AAS 58 (1966), 1054; cf. Decree on the
Apostolate of the Laity Apostolicam
Actuositatem, 7: AAS 58 (1966), 843-844.
[11] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 44: AAS 58 (1966), 1065.
[12] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 257; AAS 105 (2013),
1123.
[13] Saint John Paul II, Apostolic Letter
issued “Motu Proprio” Socialium Scientiarum (1 January
1994): AAS 86 (1994), 209.
[14] Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 61: AAS 107
(2015), 871.
[15] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 41: AAS 80
(1988), 570-572.
[16] Saint John Paul II, Apostolic Letter Tertio
Millennio Adveniente (10 November 1994), 35: AAS 87
(1995), 27.
[17] Address
to the Members of the “Centesimus Annus Pro Pontifice” Foundation (17
May 2025): AAS 117 (2025), 696.
[18] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 222: AAS 105 (2013),
1111.
[19] Cf. ibid., 236: AAS 105
(2013), 1115; Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 215: AAS 112 (2020),
1045-1046.
[20] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Dogmatic Constitution Lumen
Gentium, 13: AAS 57 (1965), 17.
[21] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Apostolic
Letter Octogesima
Adveniens (14 May 1971), 4: AAS 63 (1971), 403.
[22] Cf. Francis, Apostolic
Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 243: AAS 105 (2013),
1118.
[23] Cf. Pius XII, Apostolic
Exhortation Menti Nostrae (23 September 1950): AAS 42
(1950), 657-702.
[24] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 5: AAS 83 (1991), 799.
[25] Pius XI, Encyclical Letter Quadragesimo
Anno (15 May 1931), 39: AAS 23 (1931), 189; cf.
Pius XII, Radio Message on the 50th Anniversary of
“Rerum Novarum”: AAS 33 (1941), 198.
[26] Cf. Pius XII, Address to the
Sacred College of Cardinals and the Roman Prelature (24
December 1940): AAS 33 (1941), 13.
[27] Cf. Saint John XXIII, Encyclical
Letter Mater
et Magistra (15 May 1961), 2-3: AAS 53 (1961),
402.
[28] Cf. Saint John XXIII, Encyclical
Letter Pacem
in Terris (11 April 1963), 87: AAS 55 (1963),
301.
[29] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes , 26: AAS 58 (1966),
1046-1047.
[30] Cfr. Second Vatican Ecumenical
Council, Declaration Dignitatis
Humanae, 2: AAS 58 (1966), 930-931.
[31] Saint Paul VI, Encyclical Letter Populorum
Progressio (26 March 1967), 14: AAS 59 (1967), 264.
[32] Ibid ., 76: AAS 59
(1967), 299.
[33] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Apostolic
Letter Octogesima
Adveniens (14 May 1971), 4-7: AAS 63 (1971);
404-406.
[34] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 36: AAS 80
(1988), 561.
[35] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Laborem
Exercens (14 September 1981), 19: AAS 73 (1981),
625-629.
[36] Cf. ibid,
10: AAS 73 (1981), 600-602.
[37] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 14: AAS 80
(1988), 526-528.
[38] Cf. ibid.,
16: AAS 80 (1988), 531.
[39] Cf. ibid.,
31-33: AAS 80 (1988), 555-559.
[40] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 46: AAS 83 (1991), 850-851.
[41] Cf. ibid.,
42: AAS 83 (1991), 844-846.
[42] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 21: AAS 101 (2009),
656.
[43] Cf. ibid.,
22: AAS 101 (2009), 657.
[44] Cf. ibid.,
24: AAS 101 (2009), 658-659.
[45] Cf. ibid.,
36: AAS 101 (2009), 671-672.
[46] Ibid.,
2: AAS 101 (2009), 642.
[47] Cf. Francis, Apostolic
Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 198: AAS 105 (2013),
1103.
[48] Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 49: AAS 107
(2015), 866.
[49] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 127: AAS 112 (2020),
1013.
[50] Francis, Encyclical Letter Dilexit
Nos (24 October 2024), 167: AAS 116 (2024), 1421.
[51] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, Vatican City 2004, 32.
[52] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 24: AAS 58 (1966), 1045.
[53] Ibid.,
22: AAS 58 (1966), 1042.
[54] Cf. Pontifical Council For Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 38.
[55] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Redemptor
Hominis (4 March 1979), 14: AAS 71 (1979),
284.
[56] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 11: AAS 101 (2009),
647-648.
[57] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical Letter Veritatis
Splendor (6 August 1993), 31: AAS 85 (1993),
1159.
[58] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 26: AAS 58 (1966), 1046-1047.
[59] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 11: AAS 83 (1991), 806-807.
[60] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith, Declaration Dignitas
Infinita (2 April 2024), 7: AAS 116 (2024),
592-593.
[61] Cf. ibid.,
8: AAS 116 (2024), 593-594.
[62] Ibid.,
1: AAS 116 (2024), 589-590.
[63] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Angelus
with disabled people in the Cathedral of Osnabrück (16 November
1980): Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, vol. III/2, Vatican
City 1980, 1232.
[64] Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 152.
[65] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Address
to the 50th General Assembly of the United Nations (5
October 1995), 2: Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, vol.
XVIII/2, Vatican City 1998, 731.
[66] Saint John Paul II, Address
to the 34th General Assembly of the United Nations (2
October 1979), 7: AAS 71 (1979), 1148.
[67] Saint John Paul II, Message
for the 32nd World Day of Peace (1 January 1999),
3: AAS 91 (1999), 379.
[68] Cf. Saint John XXIII, Encyclical
Letter Pacem
in Terris (11 April 1963), 5: AAS 55 (1963),
259.
[69] Saint Paul VI, Message
to the International Conference on Human Rights (15 April
1968): AAS 60 (1968), 285.
[70] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Evangelium
Vitae (25 March 1995), 2: AAS 87 (1995), 402.
[71] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 27: AAS 58 (1966), 1047-1048; cf. Saint John
Paul II, Encyclical Letter Veritatis
Splendor (6 August 1993), 80: AAS 85 (1993),
1197-1198; cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical Letter Evangelium
Vitae (25 March 1995), 7-28: AAS 87 (1995),
408-427.
[72] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 208: AAS 112 (2020),
1043.
[73] Cf. ibid.,
209: AAS 112 (2020), 1043-1044.
[74] Ibid.,
23: AAS 112 (2020), 977. Cf. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 212: AAS 105 (2013),
1108.
[75] Benedict XVI, Apostolic
Exhortation Sacramentum
Caritatis (22 February 2007), 83: AAS 99 (2007),
169.
[76] Second Vatican Ecumenical Council,
Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes , 26, AAS 58 (1966),
1046-1047.
[77] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church , 164.
[78] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 235: AAS 105 (2013),
1115.
[79] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 105: AAS 112 (2020),
1005.
[80] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 38: AAS 80
(1988), 564.
[81] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 220: AAS 105 (2013),
1110.
[82] Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church , 169.
[83] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 16: AAS 112 (2020), 974.
[84] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Address
to the 50th General Assembly of the United Nations (5
October 1995), 8: Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, vol.
XVIII/2, 735.
[85] Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 171.
[86] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus Annus (1 May 1991), 31: AAS 83
(1991), 831.
[87] Saint John Paul II, Homily
during the Mass celebrated for farmers at Recife (7 July 1980),
4: AAS 72 (1980), 926.
[88] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Laborem
Exercens (14 September 1981), 19: AAS 73 (1981),
626.
[89] Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 93: AAS 107
(2015), 884; cf. Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 120: AAS 112 (2020),
1010.
[90] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 189: AAS 105 (2013),
1099.
[91] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice and
Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 187.
[92] Cf. Leo XIII, Encyclical Letter Rerum
Novarum (15 May 1891), 26: ASS 23 (1890-1891),
656.
[93] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 11: AAS 83 (1991), 806-807.
[95] Cf. ibid.,
48: AAS 83 (1991), 852-854.
[96] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 169: AAS 112 (2020),
1028.
[97] Cf. ibid.,
168: AAS 112 (2020), 1027-1028.
[98] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Encyclical
Letter Populorum
Progressio (26 March 1967), 17: AAS 59 (1967),
265-266.
[99] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 32 and 54: AAS 112
(2020), 980 and 988.
[100] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 58: AAS 101 (2009),
693-694.
[101] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 116: AAS 112 (2020),
1009.
[102] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 38: AAS 80
(1988), 564.
[103] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 116: AAS 112 (2020),
1009.
[104] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 48: AAS 101 (2009),
685.
[105] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical
Council, Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 25: AAS 58 (1966), 1045-1046.
[106] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 42: AAS 80
(1988), 572-574.
[107] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 53: AAS 105 (2013),
1042.
[108] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Sollicitudo
Rei Socialis (30 December 1987), 36-37: AAS 80
(1988), 561-564.
[109] Cf. Francis, Message
for the 110th World Day of Migrants and Refugees (29
September 2024): AAS 116 (2024), 735.
[110] Saint Paul VI, Encyclical
Letter Populorum
Progressio (26 March 1967), 14: AAS 59 (1967),
264.
[111] Cf. ibid., 17: AAS 59
(1967), 265-266; Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 125-127: AAS 112 (2020),
1012-1013.
[112] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Encyclical
Letter Populorum
Progressio (26 March 1967), 14: AAS 59 (1967),
264; Benedict XVI, Address
to the Diplomatic Corps accredited to the Holy See (8 January
2007): AAS 99 (2007), 73; Francis, Address
to Participants of the 3rd Global Meeting of the Indigenous
Peoples’ Forum of the International Fund for Agricultural Development (15
February 2017): AAS 109 (2017), 244-245.
[113] Final
Document of the Second Session of the XVI Ordinary General Assembly of the
Synod of Bishops (26 October 2024), 17.
[117] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 94: AAS 112 (2020), 1001.
[118] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice
and Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 53.
[119] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’, (24 May 2015), 106-109: AAS 107
(2015), 889-891.
[120] R. Guardini, Das Ende der
Neuzeit, Würzburg 1951, 89.
[121] Saint Paul VI, Address
on the occasion of the 25th Anniversary of the FAO (16
November 1970): AAS 62 (1970), 833.
[122] Cf. Francis, Address
to the Council for an Inclusive Capitalism (11 November
2019): L’Osservatore Romano, 11-12 November 2019, 8.
[123] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith – Dicastery for Culture and Education, Note Antiqua
et Nova (14 January 2025): AAS 117 (2025),
159-210; Francis, Message
for the 57th World Day of Peace (8 December
2023): AAS 116 (2024), 54-64; Francis, Message
for the 58th World Day of Social Communications (24
January 2024): AAS 116 (2024), 261-266; Francis, Address
to the G7 Session on Artificial Intelligence: “An exciting and fearsome
tool” (14 June 2024): AAS 116 (2024), 866-875;
International Theological Commission, Quo
vadis, humanitas? Thinking about Christian anthropology in the face of some
scenarios on the future of humanity (9 February 2026); Message
for the 60th World Day of Social Communications (24
January 2026): L’Osservatore Romano, 24 January 2026, 2-3.
[124] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith – Dicastery for Culture and Education, Note Antiqua
et Nova (14 January 2025), 96: AAS 117 (2025),
201.
[125] Francis, Address
to Participants at the Meeting of the “Minerva Dialogues” promoted by the
Dicastery for Culture and Education (27 March 2023): AAS 115
(2023), 465.
[126] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith – Dicastery for Culture and Education, Note Antiqua
et Nova (14 January 2025), 41: AAS 117 (2025),
178.
[127] Cf. ibid.,
44-45: AAS 117 (2025), 179-180.
[128] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 40: AAS 83 (1991), 843.
[129] Cf. International Theological
Commission, Quo
vadis, humanitas? Thinking about Christian anthropology in the face of some
scenarios on the future of humanity (9 February 2026), 63.
[130] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Discourse
on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the FAO (16
November 1970): AAS 62 (1970), 833.
[131] International Theological
Commission, Quo
vadis, humanitas? Thinking about Christian anthropology in the face of some
scenarios on the future of humanity (9 February 2026), 3.
[132] “If we devalue the heart, we also
devalue what it means to speak from the heart, to act with the heart, to
cultivate and heal the heart. If we fail to appreciate the specificity of the
heart, we miss the messages that the mind alone cannot communicate; we miss out
on the richness of our encounters with others; we miss out on poetry. We also
lose track of history and our own past, since our real personal history is
built with the heart. At the end of our lives, that alone will matter.”
Francis, Encyclical Letter Dilexit
Nos (24 October 2024), 11: AAS 116 (2024), 1372.
[133] V. Frankl, Man’s Search for
Meaning. An Introduction to Logotherapy, Boston 1963, 213.
[134] Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa
Theologiae, I-II, q. 112, a. 1, co; q. 114, a, 5, co.: ed. Leonina, VII,
Rome 1892, 323 and 349.
[135] Cf. ibid., q. 114, a. 1, co.:
ed. Leonina, VII, 344.
[136] Cf. Saint Thomas Aquinas, Super
Boetium de Trinitate, q. 1, a. 2, ad 3: ed. Leonina, L, Rome 1992,
96; Summa Theologiae, I, q. 7, a. 1, ad 3: ed. Leonina, IV, Rome
1888, 72.
[137] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium, (24 November 2013), 8: AAS 105 (2013), 1022.
[138] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical Letter Redemptor
Hominis (4 March 1979), 15: AAS 71 (1979),
286-287.
[139] Saint Augustine, De civitate
Dei, XIV, 28: CCSL 48, Turnhout 1955, 451.
[140] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 34: AAS 101 (2009),
668-669.
[141] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Veritatis
Splendor (6 August 1993), 32: AAS 85 (1993),
1159.
[142] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 207: AAS 112 (2020),
1043.
[143] H. Arendt, The Origins of
Totalitarianism, III , New York 1962, 474 .
[144] Address
to Representatives of the Media (12 May 2025): AAS 117
(2025), 681-682.
[145] Benedict XVI, Message
for the 47th World Day of Social Communications (24
January 2013): AAS 105 (2013), 183.
[146] Francis, Address
on the occasion of the Conferral of the rank of Knight and Dame of the Grand
Cross of the Pian Order to Mr Philip Pullella and Ms Valentina Alazraki (13
November 2021): L’Osservatore Romano, 13 November 2021, 12.
[147] Cf. Plato, Letter VII,
344b-c: ed. Souilhé, XIII/1, Paris 1931 ( CUF, Série grecque 63),
54.
[148] Cf. Address
to the Participants in the Conference “The Dignity of Children and Adolescents
in the Age of Artificial Intelligence” (13 November 2025): L’Osservatore
Romano, 13 November 2025, 3.
[149] Cf. Address to the members of
the Advisory Board of the RCS Academy (7 November 2025): L’Osservatore
Romano 7 November 2025, 4.
[150] Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Laborem
Exercens (14 September 1981), 3: AAS 73 (1981),
584.
[151] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 128: AAS 107
(2015), 898.
[152] Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith — Dicastery for Culture and Education, Note Antiqua
et Nova (14 January 2025), 67: AAS 117 (2025),
188-189.
[153] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Laborem
Exercens, (14 September 1981), 18: AAS 73 (1981),
622-625.
[154] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 109: AAS 107
(2015), 891.
[155] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 32: AAS 101 (2009),
666.
[156] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice
and Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 268.
[157] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 64: AAS 101 (2009),
698.
[158]Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Laudato
Si ’ (24 May 2015), 129: AAS 107
(2015), 899.
[160] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 108: AAS 112 (2020),
1006.
[161] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith — Dicastery for the Promotion of Integral Human Development, Oeconomicae
et Pecuniariae Quaestiones. Considerations for an Ethical Discernment Regarding
some Aspects of the Present Economic-Financial System (6 January
2018), 6: AAS 110 (2018), 772.
[162] Francis, Greeting
to the staff of the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) (14
February 2019): AAS 111 (2019), 309. Cfr. Benedict XVI,
Encyclical Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 22: AAS 101 (2009),
657.
[163] Cf . ibid.,
36: AAS 101 (2009), 671-672.
[164] Cf. Francis, Apostolic
Exhortation Evangelii
Gaudium (24 November 2013), 204: AAS 105 (2013),
1105-1106.
[165] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Encyclical
Letter Populorum
Progressio (26 March 1967), 87: AAS 59 (1967),
299.
[166] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Encyclical
Letter Centesimus
Annus (1 May 1991), 39: AAS 83 (1991), 841.
[167] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice
and Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 211.
[168] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Letter to
Families Gratissimam
Sane (2 February 1994), 17: AAS 86 (1994),
903-906.
[169] Cf. United States Conference of Catholic
Bishops, Sons and Daughters of the Light: A Pastoral Plan for Ministry
with Young Adults (12 November 1996), Washington D.C., 1996, I, 3.
[170] Cf. Pontifical Council for Justice
and Peace, Compendium
of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 290.
[172] Cf. Francis, Message
for the Celebration of the 48th World Day of Youth for Peace (8
December 2014), 4: AAS 107 (2015), 70-71.
[173] Cf. International Theological
Commission, Memory
and Reconciliation the Church and the Faults of the Past , Vatican
City 2000, 5.3.
[174] As in the Papal Bulls Sicut
Dudum (13 January 1435) and Etsi Suscepti (9 January
1442) of Eugenius IV, and in the Papal Bulls Dum Diversas (18
June 1452) and Romanus Pontifex (8 January 1455) of Nicholas
V. Political and, at times, even economic needs overcame the demands of the
Gospel. The need for evangelization was frequently compromised or at least
misunderstood with regard to the needs of worldly powers, thus relativizing the
problematic incompatibility of slavery with the Christian conscience.
[175] Cf. Leo XIII, Encyclical Letter In
Plurimis (5 May 1888), Acta Leonis XIII, VIII, Rome,
1889, 169-192. Consider that, as late as 1866, the Holy Office distinguished
between the immoral and moral aspects of slavery, without fully condemning
it: Instruction of the Holy Office on various doubts of Monsignor
Massaia, Vicar Apostolic in the country of the Galla, April 1866, response
to question no. 15.
[176] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Bull Incarnationis
Mysterium (29 November 1998), 11: AAS 91 (1999),
139-141.
[177] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Regina
Caeli (17 May 1970): Insegnamenti di Paolo VI, vol.
VIII, 506.
[178] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 183: AAS 112 (2020), 1033-1034.
[179] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical
Council, Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 26: AAS 58 (1966), 1046-1047.
[180] Saint Paul VI, Address
to the 20th General Assembly of the United Nations (4
October 1965): AAS 57 (1965), 881.
[181] United Nations, United
Nations Charter, San Francisco (26 June 1945), Preamble.
[182] Cf. Francis , Encyclical
Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 258: AAS 112 (2020),
1061: “In recent decades, every single war has been ostensibly
‘justified.’ The Catechism
of the Catholic Church speaks of the possibility of legitimate
defense by means of military force, which involves demonstrating that certain
‘rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy’ have been met. Yet it is easy
to fall into an overly broad interpretation of this potential right. In
this way, some would also wrongly justify even ‘preventive’ attacks or acts of
war that can hardly avoid entailing ‘evils and disorders graver than the evil
to be eliminated.’”
[183] Cf. Dicastery for the Doctrine of the
Faith — Dicastery for Culture and Education, Note Antiqua
et Nova (14 January 2025), 99: AAS 117 (2025),
202-203.
[184] Cf. ibid.,
103: AAS 117 (2025), 204.
[185] Cf. Address
to the Participants in the Plenary Session of the “Reunion of Aid Agencies for
the Oriental Churches (ROACO)” (26 June 2025): AAS 117
(2025), 847-849.
[186] Cf. Francis, Message
for the 53rd World Day of Peace (8 December
2019): AAS 112 (2020), 54-61.
[187] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of
the Rings. The Return of the King, Part III, Book Five, Chapter IX,
New York 1965, 190.
[188] Address
to Representatives of the Media, (12 May 2025): AAS 117
(2025), 682.
[190] Saint John Paul II, Message
for the 31st World Day of Peace, (1 January 1998),
1: AAS 90 (1988), 147.
[191] Saint Augustine, Enarrationes
in Psalmos, 84, 12: CCSL 39, Turnhout 1956,
1172-1173.
[192] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Dilexit
Nos (24 October 2024), 22: AAS 116 (2024),
1375-1376.
[193] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 115: AAS 112 (2020),
1008-1009.
[194] Cf. ibid.,
261: AAS 112 (2020), 1062.
[195] Cf. Saint Paul VI, Address
to the 20th General Assembly of the United Nations (4
October 1965): AAS 57 (1965), 878-879.
[196] Cf. Pius XII, Radio Message A
Grave Hour (24 August 1939): AAS 31 (1939), 334.
[197] Giorgio La Pira, Riflessioni
sul Concilio. Address of Professor Giorgio La Pira, Mayor of
Florence, to the “Guides de France”(Rome, 4 September 1962),
Florence 1962, 6.
[198] Address
to Participants in the Jubilee of Oriental Churches (14 May
2025): AAS 117 (2025), 686.
[199] Cf. Francis, Encyclical
Letter Fratelli
Tutti (3 October 2020), 271: AAS 112 (2020),
1066.
[200] Cf. Francis, Appeal
for Peace at Assisi for the World Day of Prayer for Peace “Thirst for Peace:
Faiths and Cultures in Dialogue” (20 September 2016): AAS 108
(2016), 1124.
[201] Francis, Address
to Members of the Diplomatic Corps accredited to the Holy See (9
January 2025): AAS 117 (2025), 110.
[202] Cf. Francis, Address
to the Participants in the 38th Conference of the FAO (20
June 2013): AAS 105 (2013), 616-617.
[203] First
“Urbi et Orbi” Blessing (8
May 2025): AAS 117 (2025), 660.
[205] Cf. Homily
at First Vespers on the Solemnity of Mary the Most Holy Mother of God (31
December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 2 January 2026, 1-2.
[206] Cf. Homily
of the Mass during the Day (25 December 2025): L’Osservatore
Romano, 27 December 2025, 3.
[208] Cf. Angelus
on the Solemnity of the Epiphany (6 January 2026): L’Osservatore
Romano, 7 January 2026, 3.
[209] Cf. Homily
of the Mass during the Night (24 December 2025): L’Osservatore
Romano, 27 December 2025, 2.
[210] P. de Bérulle, Discours de
l’état et des grandeurs de Jésus, Discours IV, Unité de Dieu en l’incarnation:
Œuvres complètes, Paris 1856, col. 218.
[211] Ibid .
[212] Cf. Address
to the Conference “Artificial Intelligence and Care of Our Common Home” (5
December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 5 December 2025, 2.
[213] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Deus
Caritas Est (25 December 2005), 14: AAS 98
(2006), 228.
[214] Saint Augustine, Sermons,
272: In die Pentecostes ad infantes de sacramento: PL 38,
Paris 1865, col. 1247.
[215] Benedict XVI, Homily
at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper (21 April 2011): AAS 103
(2011), 321.
[216] Address
to the Roma Curia for the Exchange of Christmas Greetings (22
December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 22 December 2025, 6-7.
[217] Cf. above, nos. 11-14.
[218] Cf. Address
to the Conference “The Dignity of Children and Adolescents in the Age of
Artificial Intelligence” (13 November 2025): L’Osservatore
Romano, 13 November 2025, 3.
[219] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical
Letter Caritas
in Veritate (29 June 2009), 34: AAS 101
(2009), 668-670.
[220] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Laudate
Deum (4 October 2023), 67: AAS 115 (2023), 1059.
[221] Cf. Angelus
on the Solemnity of the Epiphany (6 January 2026): L’Osservatore
Romano, 7 January 2026, 3.
[222] Benedict XVI, General
Audience (15 February 2006): L’Osservatore Romano, 16
February 2006, 4.
[223] Meditation
on the occasion of the Prayer Vigil and Rosary for Peace (11 October
2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 13 October 2025, 2.
[224] Saint Paul VI, Homily at the
Marian Shrine of Our Lady of Bonaria, (24 April 1970): AAS 62
(1970), 301.
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