Pope Leo XIV is hardly the figure most people envision when the conversation turns toward visions of a technological apocalypse or debates about the existential perils of Artificial General Intelligence, often abbreviated as AGI. Yet, in a remarkable twist of modern history, AGI researcher John-Clark Levin recently found himself standing within the sacred walls of the Vatican, intent on ensuring that the pontiff himself directly confronted these looming concerns. The setting, steeped in centuries of spiritual contemplation, could not have been more different from Silicon Valley’s buzz and gleaming laboratories—but Levin’s purpose was unmistakably urgent: to awaken one of the world’s most influential moral voices to what many fear could become the defining issue of the century.
Levin’s mission has not been carried out in isolation. Over the past year, he has methodically and discreetly cultivated a dispersed yet dedicated network composed of roughly three dozen individuals—scholars, scientists, theologians, policy researchers, and Catholic clergy. This constellation of minds, which he humorously dubs the “AI Avengers,” engages in virtual meetings aimed at strategizing how to prompt the Vatican to take the idea of AGI’s more far-reaching and potentially perilous effects with greater seriousness. Their focus is clear: the conversation within the Holy See must move beyond general musings on technology ethics and begin earnest reflection on the transformative—and possibly catastrophic—potential of machines that might think or act with human-level autonomy.
At the heart of Levin’s concern lies the fear that Pope Leo XIV might not fully grasp, or might come to appreciate too late, the scale of the existential risks posed by AGI. Companies like OpenAI, Microsoft, Google, and Meta are pushing relentlessly toward the creation of systems that could equal or even surpass human intelligence. Levin warns that if world leaders, including the moral and spiritual leader of the Catholic Church, wait for unassailable proof before taking preventive measures, humanity might find itself without time to act meaningfully. In his words, “If you wait for perfect certainty, it’s going to be too late.” His message is as much a call to prudence as it is to foresight.
Artificial General Intelligence itself remains one of the most polarizing concepts in both academic circles and the public imagination. Experts do not agree on its precise definition, nor on the likelihood or timeline of its creation. Broadly understood, AGI refers to a form of artificial intelligence capable of performing any intellectual task that a human being can—reasoning, learning, creating, and problem-solving—across all cognitive domains. Yet that generality conceals great divergence. Some researchers argue that narrow AI systems already exhibit traces of general reasoning, while others maintain that true AGI may still be decades—or even centuries—away. The potential consequences are equally wide-ranging: from vast economic growth and revolutionary progress in science and medicine to widespread job displacement, geopolitical instability, and existential threats such as uncontrollable autonomous weapons or global catastrophes inadvertently triggered by superintelligent agents.
For those who take these risks seriously, the mitigation of existential threats posed by AGI has become an urgent global priority. The conversation has been dominated by superpowers like the United States and China, home to most of the leading AI research laboratories. Yet increasingly, attention is shifting to the Vatican—a microstate with minimal material might but unmatched moral resonance—as an emerging participant in global AI ethics discourse. While it possesses neither military strength nor economic grandeur, the Vatican exerts extraordinary soft power through its leadership of the Catholic Church, a global faith community numbering approximately 1.4 billion adherents. The pope’s words have the capacity to influence not just believers but policymakers, intellectuals, and cultural figures across the world.
Historically, papal influence has reached well beyond ecclesiastical matters. The Vatican’s moral authority, combined with its network of diplomatic channels and academic institutions, affords it a singular ability to convene diverse actors in neutral dialogue. This influence could become invaluable in global debates over AGI, particularly given the increasingly competitive and secretive dynamic between technological giants and the national interests of the United States and China. Moreover, Pope Leo XIV himself possesses qualities that make him an especially promising interlocutor in the AI conversation. As the first American pope, he shares cultural affinity with the homeland of many of the world’s most ambitious AI ventures. His academic background in mathematics and his evident comfort with technology distinguish him from his predecessors, equipping him to engage thoughtfully with the technical dimensions of AI rather than merely its moral abstractions.
No one, including Levin, expects Pope Leo to suddenly become an arbitrator of the AGI debate or to take a definitive stance among competing philosophical camps. The Vatican is a venerable institution steeped in tradition, and its deliberative processes are famous for their meticulous care and patience. What Levin and his coalition are asking, therefore, is modest yet significant: that the Vatican officially recognize AGI as a plausible development, initiate a formal process of consultation with experts, and evaluate the matter through its own ethical and theological lens. The first task is acknowledgment; the next is discernment.
To its credit, the Catholic Church has not ignored the broader issue of artificial intelligence. Pope Francis, Leo XIV’s immediate predecessor, frequently addressed the moral implications of technological innovation and championed the ‘Rome Call for AI Ethics,’ a groundbreaking framework endorsed by major technology firms like IBM, Cisco, and Microsoft. That initiative reflected the Vatican’s longstanding desire to ensure that technological progress remains bounded by respect for human dignity. Ironically, Francis also became an unwitting icon of AI’s cultural reach when doctored images—produced by AI—depicted him in a fashionable white puffer jacket, sparking viral fascination. Such intersections between faith and digital creativity helped frame the Church’s engagement with AI not merely as an academic curiosity but as a lived contemporary issue.
Pope Leo XIV, however, appears determined to deepen and expand this engagement. His choice of papal name, inspired by historical parallels between today’s technological transformations and those of the industrial revolution addressed by Pope Leo XIII in the 1891 encyclical *Rerum Novarum*, signals the centrality of technology ethics to his papacy. From his first public statements, he has spoken extensively about Artificial Intelligence’s potential to both uplift and endanger humanity, invoking themes of human dignity, labor justice, and the moral stewardship of innovation. His speeches, letters, and diplomatic engagements reveal growing intent to scrutinize the intersection of human identity and machine cognition.
Observers close to the Vatican report that the pope is preparing an encyclical dedicated primarily to artificial intelligence—a document that, like *Rerum Novarum* before it, could guide Catholic social teaching for generations. Early drafts and discussions suggest an emphasis on ensuring AI’s alignment with human values and safeguarding human worth from technological devaluation. Yet what remains largely missing in official Church discourse is any direct reference to AGI specifically—the version of AI that, in theory, could rival or surpass human capabilities and thus reshape civilization itself. Levin believes this omission must be remedied promptly, before institutions and governments define the terms of that discourse without the Vatican’s moral input.
In his view, the Vatican should convene a rigorous, science-informed consultation on AGI through its Pontifical Academy of Sciences or the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences, just as Pope Francis once marshaled expert consensus on climate change before issuing *Laudato Si’.* Levin stresses that he seeks not to introduce theological novelties but simply to provide the pope with sufficient factual and conceptual foundation to make a genuinely informed judgment about the mechanisms and dangers of AGI.
Within the culture of Silicon Valley, advocates for AGI awareness jokingly describe the act of convincing someone of AGI’s likelihood as “AGI-pilling.” For Levin, the task before him is precisely that: to “AGI-pill” the Vatican—to move it from skepticism or abstraction toward focused preparation. The challenge, however, is considerable. Gaining access to the Vatican’s intricate network of clerics, administrators, and advisers is an exercise in diplomatic persistence. The Holy See operates less like a modern bureaucracy and more like a traditional royal court turned global moral embassy. Moreover, there is almost no natural overlap between the communities of AI safety researchers and the Catholic hierarchy; Levin jokes that all those bridging both worlds could comfortably fit inside a single elevator.
Nonetheless, he is uniquely equipped for such cultural translation. As an early participant in global conversations on AI safety through Kurzweil Technologies and as someone who has been personally acquainted with then-Father Robert Prevost—now Pope Leo XIV—since his youth in California, Levin combines the sensibilities of a technologist with an insider’s appreciation of ecclesiastical decorum. He describes his exploratory work within Vatican circles with a touch of humor, likening it to an old detective film set in Rome, complete with informal conversations with priests over gelato as he seeks to map the unseen circuits of influence.
Despite his connections, progress has been painstakingly slow. Even as Pope Leo’s papacy advances, it remains unclear which advisors hold particular sway over his AI-related thinking. This deliberate pace contrasts sharply with the rapid acceleration of AI research worldwide—a fact that heightens Levin’s sense of urgency. The prospect that major corporations might preemptively shape the Vatican’s position with their own interests in mind adds another layer of apprehension. Reports already indicate that prominent technology executives are continuing the dialogue with the Holy See that began under Pope Francis, further intertwining Silicon Valley and St. Peter’s Basilica in an evolving moral conversation.
Against that backdrop, Levin continues his determined outreach. Following Pope Leo XIV’s election, he traveled to Rome for a conference at the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, connecting with others who shared his concern that AGI be placed squarely on the papal agenda. From this initiative emerged the continued activity of the “AI Avengers,” working remotely to educate priests, supply policy materials, and design approaches to guide the Vatican toward a nuanced position on AGI.
The response he encountered during subsequent visits to Rome has been more encouraging than he anticipated. At events such as the Builders AI Forum—a gathering devoted to aligning AI innovation with the mission of the Church—interest in discussing AGI proved unexpectedly robust. Although the official agenda focused on fields like health care and education, Levin hosted side discussions devoted exclusively to AGI’s long-term implications, drawing larger-than-expected crowds. This spontaneous enthusiasm, he reflected, suggests a readiness among clergy and scholars alike to confront even the most speculative dimensions of AI ethics.
This growing momentum culminated when Levin gained a rare opportunity to attend a papal audience, granted through a participant’s spare invitation. With a mixture of nervous excitement, he prepared a concise one-page letter summarizing his appeal. His message commended Pope Leo’s proactive approach to AI, encouraged formal consultation on AGI distinct from general AI debates, and offered the assistance of the research community. Time for personal exchange with the pontiff ultimately eluded him—the logistical adjustments of large Vatican audiences are notoriously unpredictable—but he did manage to deliver his written message via the pope’s secretary, adhering to proper diplomatic channels.
Though he doubts he will receive a personal response, Levin interprets the episode as a beginning, not an end. For him, each step that brings AGI into Vatican consciousness widens the possibility that the Church—a uniquely transnational moral institution—might one day play a central role in guiding humanity’s engagement with this formidable new intelligence. He acknowledges that implementation of a Vatican-led scientific consultation would unfold slowly, but such is the rhythm of an institution measured in centuries rather than market quarters. The important thing is that the conversation has begun.
Levin’s experience so far implies that resistance within the Vatican to discussing AGI may have been overstated. Officials and theologians he has approached have greeted the topic with curiosity rather than dismissal. None have branded the idea blasphemous or absurd; on the contrary, many appear to sense that the ethical horizon of the Church must expand alongside the technological one. The effort to bridge religion and artificial intelligence, therefore, may not be a quixotic crusade, but the opening chapter of a dialogue that could help humanity navigate one of its most profound transformations—one guided not by fear alone, but by conscience and wisdom shaped over two millennia of reflection.
Sourse: https://www.theverge.com/ai-artificial-intelligence/829813/ai-agi-pope-leo
