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Category: Imagination

Looking at how AI and other emerging technologies spark new avenues of meaning for Christian theology and practice.

Egalitarian Human Futures in the wake of AI: Social Synecdoche

In this series of two posts, I’ll equip you with a simple but distinctive set of concepts that can help us think and talk about spiritual egalitarianism. This kind of conceptualization is urgently important in a time when the development of AI systems can increasingly take on leadership and management functions in society. This post will articulate a concept of social synecdoche and why it is especially relevant now, in thinking about human-AI societies. The next post will apply it to a question of church governance today, in an illustrative way.

What is Social Synecdoche?

Our thoughts here will center on a socially and sociologically important concept called synecdoche. Here are two examples of it at work:

When a Pope acts, in some meaningful sense, the Church acts.

When a President acts, in some meaningful sense, the nation acts.

Both sentences illustrate social synecdoche at work: it is the representation of a social whole by a single person who is a part of it. The indefinitely expansive use of this mode of group identity is what will define the term ‘axial consciousness’ in my usage. I use the terms “axial age” and “axial consciousness” to define a substantial shift in human history, that is marked by the emergence of the slave machines that we call civilization. By focusing attention on a figure who could, at least in principle, unify a human group of any size in themselves, ancient civilizations created increasingly expansive governments, eventually including a variety of warring empires.

My usage of the term “axial” provides an alternative way of framing these big history discussions about AI and ancient human history. It invites comparison (and contrast) with Ilia Delio’s more standard usage of axial language in Re-enchanting the Earth: Why AI Needs Religion.

Insofar as we are psychologically, socially, and somatically embedded in large social bodies today, it is substantially through the sympathetic “social magic” of synecdoche. Both then and now, we have access to this axial mode of consciousness whenever we identify with a representative of an organized group agent, and thereby identify with it. At the same time, we are also able to slip out of this mode and become increasingly atomized in our experience of the world.

A Visceral Connection with the Whole

For example, when we feel that leaders or a group have betrayed us so deeply that we are no longer a part of it (that it has left us), we experience a kind of atomized consciousness that is the opposite of axial consciousness. This process is often experienced as a painful loss of identity, a confusion about who we are, precisely because we substantially find our identities in this kind of group through representation.

This capacity is rooted in a deep analogy between a personal body and a social body, and this analogy is not only conceptual but also physiological: when our nation is attacked, we feel attacked, and when something happens to our leader, we spontaneously identify with them as a part of the group they represent. Social synecdoche is therefore part of the way we reify social bodies. Reifying a social body is what we do when we make a country or Church into a thing, through group psychology processes that are consciously experienced as synecdoche: the representation of the whole by a part.

Synecdoche and Representative Governments

This notion of social synecdoche can help us notice new things and reframe familiar discussions in interesting ways. For example, how does social synecdoche relate to present debates about representative democracy vs autocracy? Representative government refines and extends this type synecdoche, articulating it at more intermediate scales in terms of space (districts, representing smaller areas), time (limited terms, representing a people for an explicit time) and types of authority (separations of powers, representing us in our different social functions).

This can create a more flexible social body, in certain contexts, because identification is distributed in ways that give the social body more points of articulation and therefore degrees of freedom and potential for accountability. For all of this articulation, representative government remains axial, just more fully articulated. If it weren’t axial in this sense, representative government wouldn’t reach social scale in the first place.

So sociologically and socially, we are still very much in the axial age, even in highly articulated representative governments. In a real sense, representative government is an intensification of and deepening articulation of axial consciousness; it responds to the authoritarianism of a single representative by dramatically multiplying representation.

Synecdoche and the Axial Age

Ever since social synecdoche facilitated the first expanding slave machines, there has been a sometimes intense tug-of-war between atomized consciousness and axial consciousness. This effort to escape axial social bodies through individuation has always been a feature of the axial experience, often because axial group agents are routinely capricious and cruel and unjust. For example, our first known legal code, the Code of Ur-Nammu, bears witness to the ways in which a legal representative of the axial social body incentivized the recuperation of slaves who desperately tried to individuate:

If a slave escapes from the city limits, and someone returns him, the owner shall pay two shekels to the one who returned him.

For all of the privation involved in privateness, some people throughout the axial period have also attempted various forms of internal immigration (into the spirit or mind) as a means of escape. Some, but certainly not all, axial spirituality can be understood in these terms. The Hebrew prophetic tradition, for example, does not engage generally in internal escapism, but instead seeks to hold axial social bodies to account, especially by holding their representatives accountable.

Photo by Frederico Beccari from unsplash.com

Social Synedocque in the Age of AI

Our long history as axial beings suggests that we will probably stay like this, even as we build the technology that will enable us to make AI Presidents and Kings. It seems possible that we will have AI systems that can be better than humans at fulfilling the office of President before we have AI systems that are better than us at plumbing or firefighting. In part this is because the bar for good political leadership is especially low, and in part it reflects the relative ease of automating a wide range of creative, social and analytical work through advanced text generation systems. If this sounds absurd, I’d recommend getting caught up on the developments with GPT-3 and similar systems. You can go to openai.com and try it out if you like.

How hard would it be for an AI system to more faithfully or reliably represent your nation or church or city or ward than the current ones? Suppose it can listen and synthesize information well, identify solutions that can satisfy various stakeholders, and build trust by behaving in a reliable, honest and trustworthy way. And suppose it never runs the risk of sexually molesting someone in your group. By almost any instrumental measure, meaning an external and non-experience-focused measure of its ability to achieve a goal, I think that we may well have systems that do better than a person within a generation. We might also envision a human President who runs on a platform of just approving the decisions of some AI system, or a President who does this secretly.

In such a context, as with any other case where AI systems outperform humans, human agents will come to seem like needless interlopers who only make things worse; it will seem that AI has ascended to its rightful throne.

A Call to Egalitarianism

But this precisely raises the central point I’d like to make:

In that world, humans become interlopers only insofar as our goals are merely instrumental. That is to say, this is the rightful place of AI only insofar as we conceive of leadership merely as a matter of receiving inputs (public feedback, polling data, intelligence briefings) and generating outputs (a political platform, strategy, public communications, and the resultant legitimation structure rooted in social trust and identification).

This scenario highlights the limits of instrumentality itself. Hence, instead of having merely instrumental goals for governance, I believe that we urgently need to treat all humans as image-bearers, as true ends in themselves, as Creation’s priests.

A range of scholarship has highlighted the basic connection between image-bearing and the governance functions of priests and kings in the religions of the Ancient Near East. Image-bearing is, then, very early language for social synecdoche. In an axial age context, which was and is our context, the notion that all of humanity bears God’s image remains a challenging and deeply egalitarian response to the problem of concentrated power that results from social synecdoche. That is what I’ll turn to in the next post.

Daniel Heck is a Pastor at Central Vineyard Church in Columbus, OH. His work focuses on immigrant and refugee support, spiritual direction, and training people of all ages how to follow the teachings of Jesus. He is the author of According to Folly, founder of Tattered Books, and writes regularly on Medium: https://medium.com/@danheck

Expanding the Vision for the Life We Are Looking For

In my previous post, I highlighted the important contributions Andy Crouch’s The Life We’re Looking For makes to the dialogue between faith and technology. Using compelling examples, the author argues for returning to the primacy of face-to-face human relationships in a world of disconnection driven by techno-capitalism. This is a powerful and necessary reminder that is worth repeating here.

I would be remiss, however, if I limited my review to this point. In part 2, I dive into the areas where Andy Crouch’s book fell short in expanding this conversation. By starting with a narrow definition of technology, the author missed an opportunity to rethink it and reshape it into a true ally of human flourishing. This may sound like a small tweak, but it makes all the difference. Given how pervasively emerging technologies inhabit our current ecosystem, a narrow definition is bound to lead to unsustainable solutions.

Defining What Technology Is

Andy Crouch does a good job identifying the insidious erosion techno-capitalism is exerting in society. It is unfortunate, however, that he equates technology with techno-capitalism. They are not the same thing. For example, the Internet is a great example of technology. The process of turning it into profit by large Silicon Valley companies is techno-capitalism. The first created a new environment for the free flow of information that connected the world. The second exploited this connection to maximize profit.

Just because our current encounter with technology is mostly mediated by techno-capitalism does not mean the two are the same. This may seem like a small distinction, but it is an important one in the dialogue between faith and technology. If technology is techno-capitalism, then the role of faith will often be one of resistance. While this role is important and necessary, limiting faith to a posture of resistance misses the opportunity to imagine ways in which technology can lead to flourishing.

While Andy provided a few examples of technology enhancing one’s humanity, I finished the book with the impression that his alternative vision was really a turn away from screens and toward more embodied forms of community. This argument, however, undermines and ignores the transformative ways in which technologies (including those mediated through techno-capitalism) have expanded and connected our flourishing. Hence, his narrow view of technology closed the door to how it can contribute to the good.

Image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay

Lost Connection with Nature

The book’s subtitle, Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World, informs us upfront that the book is about valuing relationships. Implied in that view is an anthropocentric view of relationships, focusing on communion between humans. This can be often assumed and taken for granted, but it becomes problematic in the dialogue of faith and technology.

Humans also have an intricate and visceral relationship to nature, both our environment and other species of life. Technology has often, maybe always, been a means of moving us beyond the limitations of nature. From our early ancestors, we can find traces of tool-making indicating the human drive to impact our environment toward the survival and flourishing of our species. The sheer existence of nearly 8 billion of us is a testament to the success of this strategy. We became our ancestors’ dreams, albeit at a great cost to the earth. Given technology’s central role in this progression, one cannot speak of it and ignore how it has transformed our relationship with nature.

While we may have built our towering civilizations, we still feel like we were kicked out of the garden. While techno-capitalism may have separated us from one another, technology itself has separated us from the dust from which we came. The work of re-imagining technology then must include in its ethos a purposeful return to nature. It does not mean necessarily forsaking devices and going back to a primal lifestyle, but it does mean re-thinking technology in a way that not only optimizes the flourishing of all life.

In a time of climate crisis, this work becomes all the more important. Hence, in my perspective, it must be present in any discussion of faith and technology. Unfortunately, there was nothing in Andy’s book to address this issue.

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

Limited Christian Imagination

Lastly, Andy Crouch’s book missed the mark by appealing little to the rich Christian imagination. Opting for a narrow focus on selected New Testament texts, the author ignored a wealth of Christian tradition on the topic of technology. That includes the biblical books of Genesis and Isaiah, as well as writers like Francis Bacon, Jacques Ellul, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, and Illia Deo. Crouch’s discussion could have been greatly enriched by interacting with them–not necessarily agreeing or propagating their perspective, but at least using them as conversation partners in building a 21st-century vision for technology.

Starting with a narrow view of technology and engaging with a limited range of Christian tradition inevitably led to a constricted view of what Christian community can look like in a technological age. The result becomes a failure of imagination, one that we can no longer afford to have where growing techno-capitalism accelerates planetary degradation. As much as a return to household and community can restore and improve human relationships, it does not address our disconnection from nature. Furthermore, it ignores our call to be co-creators with God for a flourishing future.

As an alternative, one does not need to look too far within the Bible itself to find a powerful metaphor to catalyze Christian imagination. In the 11th chapter of Isaiah, the prophet imagines a world where the wolf will live with the lamb and the infant will play near the cobra’s den. The prophet’s multiple images speak of a nature restored from strife to peace, from languishing to flourishing. If we want to inspire a Christian vision for technology in our time, that is a good place to start.

Creators, Stewards and the Telos of Technology

This is the fourth and final part of our excellent discussion from the January Advisory Board meeting, where we explored the question of whether we live in a technological age. In Part 1 we addressed the idea of a technological age, and in Part 2 we discussed the telos of technology and the value of work. In Part 3 we explored the value of play. In Part 4, we continue the conversation by asking how our role as creators and stewards shapes the telos of technology.

Wen: My personal theology of technology is grounded in us being creators. We are made in God’s image, and God is a creator. So we are all mini creators. That kind of echoes what Micah said. I also think we’re commanded to steward our resources. So going back to the original question that you raise – what is the telos of technology – I see us as creators and stewards. That’s one way to frame a telos of technology. 

Love of God and Love of Neighbor

Another way to frame it is very idealistic. If you look at the Bible, Jesus actually tells us the greatest commandment. Love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). So is there a way we could run all types of technology, product, visions, and development, through that filter? Does a certain technology help us to love and serve our neighbor? And does this technology honor God?

I know that’s idealistic. I’m not expecting all of US capitalism, all companies, to adopt that framework. But from a biblical perspective, we can ask about the telos of technology and the human telos. Do all of our actions for creating and stewarding serve our neighbor or honor God?

Connecting Creators and Stewards to Smaller Goals

Maggie: As you described earlier, Elias, I also spent a lot of time wondering, “What am I doing?” I worked for a bank. I worked for Wall Street. I’m working for a management and consulting company now. But one of the things that I do in each job is really focusing on bringing a better world, a better life to my end-user.

A lot of times that comes into some pretty granular metrics. For instance, it used to take you two weeks to have this horrible conversation, because you had to pull data from six different places. Now, it will take you an hour to put the data together, and then whatever time it takes you to have the meeting. That is good stewardship! There is a concrete improvement in time saved.

So yes, there is a certain sense in which a broad biblical goal based on love of God and love of neighbor is idealistic. But people can make it more realistic within their context if they connect it to a smaller goal. If I can make one person’s life better, that does express love of neighbor.

Is Ethical Play Possible?

Elias: I want to raise another question, going back to what Micah said about play and what Wen said about our role as creators and stewards. Can we be both playful and good stewards? In other words, is ethical play possible? Can those things happen together? Usually, they do not go together. Often, playing means not worrying about what will happen. And part of being a good steward is almost like being the adult with a child who’s trying to play. “Think about your actions, stop doing that, don’t be so wasteful.” Is there a place there to engage in ethical play? In other words, can play actually help others?

Ben: I think the answer is “yes”. Going back to what Wen said, part of the great commandment is to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. That contains a foundational construct, which is that we love ourselves. If we draw these things together, we can think of it in terms of stewarding ourselves. By stewarding ourselves, we’re increasing our capacity to love ourselves and therefore raising our capacity to love God and neighbor. And I would argue that we increase our capacity by allowing ourselves to play. 

Stewardship, Play, and the Church

We can apply this to the life of the church. I rail against cultural co-opting. That is, with every new technology, every new movement, the church asks how we can make it ours. That is really a dishonest conversation because we don’t really care about human flourishing so much as we care about butts in pews and dollars in plates. There’s a lot of focus on the institution of the church. So instead of increasing human flourishing, and increasing the stewardship of ourselves and others, we spend a lot of time trying to make sure that there’s institutional survival.

That’s the capitalist mindset. How do we maximize profit for our investors? In doing that, we iterate for the good of the institution, rather than the good of humanity.

To get away from that mindset, the church must ask: is this about human flourishing or about institutional flourishing? And that’s where I think the value of play is critical because it cuts across institutions. Organizations don’t play. People do. So if we can maintain the vignette of human flourishing through play, then it’s sort of a safeguard. Play helps us focus on human flourishing rather than on institutional survival.

Technology and the Modern Individual

Elias: Isabelle, do you have anything to add? We’d love to hear from you.

Isabelle: Well, from my perspective, as a humanities student, I’m studying a lot about the modern world and how the model modern individual is portrayed inside this world. You could say that the value of play is missing. The individual constantly needs to be efficient, constantly needs to be kind of like a machine. The individual can’t get it wrong. When he feels wrong, he can’t express it. And when he expresses, he’s shut down. And it’s really interesting to see how modernity is embedded in this discussion about technology. 

Elias: Thank you, that’s great. I love when you bring something in because your perspective is so unique, and we need that in these conversations. That’s what I love about this group, so many different perspectives coming together.

Unfortunately, our time is up. This does feel like play to me, and I’m going to have to end our ability to play right now, which makes me sad. But thanks, everybody for being here. I look forward to next time.

The Value of Play and the Telos of Technology

We want to create things, and we want to create them with other people. And we want to connect over that. That’s the value of play.

Micah Redding

At our January Advisory Board meeting, we explored the question of whether we live in a technological age. In Part 1 we addressed the idea of a technological age, and in Part 2 we discussed the telos of technology and the value of work. In Part 3 below, we continue the conversation by exploring the telos of technology and the value of play.

Micah: I’ve been thinking about this in terms of our earlier discussion about the nature of technology. I kind of go with Andy Clark and David Chalmers, with the extended mind, extended cognition thesis. Technology, everything in our environment, we make it part of ourselves. An analogy is in the way birds use their environment to make nests. We all wrap our environment around us in some ways. Humans do this in a way that’s incredibly fluid and open-ended and flexible. And what are we doing? What is our telos for that? I think what we ultimately want is that we want to play. We want to create things, and we want to create them with other people. And we want to connect over that. That’s the value of play.

The Impulse to Play

You can look at all the negative impulses and drives in our society as sublimated versions of that impulse to play. We’re all trying to play some kind of game, and maybe we don’t allow ourselves to do that. So we twist it in some way to convince ourselves it’s serious. I think you see this, particularly in edge technological communities like those around web3 and NFTs. These kinds of spaces are heavily reviled right now in the larger culture, and they feel like they are essentially playing with friends. They’re creating something with friends, and they’re trying to connect with people.

We see the value of play across human history. Early humans were trying to survive, trying to overcome starvation, and so forth. But we didn’t just do that. We also made cave paintings. We also told stories and we put ourselves into those stories. And that’s increasingly what we’ve done through history. As soon as we create virtual worlds, we want to put ourselves in those worlds, because this is what it is to play. We keep putting ourselves into stories and pulling in people and our environment into them. 

So I think that’s what we’re doing, ultimately. We play. That can be a good, healthy, and productive thing. From a Christian perspective, I would say we’re children of God, and children are made to play. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing. The value of play is central to the human telos. So one step toward a telos of technology is to just be more aware of the way play makes up the human telos. 

Rock paintings from the Cave of Beasts (Gilf Kebir, Libyan Desert)
By Clemens Schmillen – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31399425

Free Play versus Structured Play

František: Is there a difference between game and play? Because for me, it appears that a game has some rules. Play itself doesn’t have to have rules. I’m just playing with something. But a game, if you want to take part in the game, you have to follow the rules. Like with traffic. The rules of traffic are basically the rules of a game. And if you want to play the game–be part of the traffic–you have to follow the rules. If you don’t follow them, you aren’t allowed to drive. You must leave the game. And we can extend this example to anything else. 

Elias: I think we can talk about this as free play versus structured play. Free play or unstructured play is like a toddler just imagining his or her world. You try to make them play a game and they’re like, no, no, I’m going to change the rules. Gaming is a little more structured. It has rules. I think there’s room for both. 

Wen: We can see a spectrum or a continuum of how much rigidity and structure and rules there are. But even when there are certain rules and constraints, they can still enhance the joy and flourishing of play. One example of that is when you let little kids play in a park. You don’t want them to run into the street, so you set boundaries. Putting rules or boundaries in place can enhance safety and creativity and the joy within play. I’ve done a lot of movement and improv games with adults in very rigid corporate organizations, trying to get them to play. You create boundaries, but then you say, within those boundaries, you can do or explore whatever you want, and express yourself however you feel. 

The Infinite Game

Photo by freddie marriage on Unsplash

Micah: James Carse describes the concept of finite versus infinite games. In finite games, you play to win. Infinite games, you play to keep playing. And finite games are the kind we think of as rule-based. Infinite games are like what children play where now they’re playing house, now they’re pretending to be dogs, now they’re magicians. The play is constantly mutating and fluid.

The infinite game doesn’t have a rule set in the same way that the finite game does. But it does have a condition, which is that you don’t destroy the ability to keep playing. The value of play forms the basis of it. So when people get kicked out of the game, you find a way to bring them back in. You continually wrap people back in, you continually ensure that the basis of gameplay, the basis of play itself, remains. So there is no strict rule. But there is this premise, that we are all trying to keep playing, we’re going to make sure we don’t destroy the ability to play as we go.

AIT Podcast – Episode 1: Faith, AI and the Climate Crisis

Who doesn’t like to listen to podcasts? Listeners are growing by the day in the major platforms (Spotify, Google, Apple Play). But is there QUALITY content? 

AI Theology presents to you a new podcast. Elias Kruger and Maggie Bender discuss the intersection between theology and technology in the budding world of AI and other emerging technologies. They bring the best from academy, industry and church together in a lively conversation. Join us and expand your mind with topics like ai ethics, ai for good, guest interviews and much more.

Here is episode 1: Faith, AI and the Climate Crisis

AIT podcast - episode 1 - Faith AI And the Climate Crisis

Elias Kruger and Maggie Bender discuss how AI and faith can help address in the climate crisis. We dive into some controversy here and how religion has not always been an ally in the battle for conservation. Yet, what are the opportunities for AI and faith to join forces in this daunting challenges. The conversation covers creation, worship, algorithms, optimization and recent efforts to save the Amazon.

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After listening, don’t forget to hare wih friends and give us your feedback. Also don’t forget to rate the episodes on the podcast platforms. 

What do you want to hear about next?

AI Theology’s Podcast

Who doesn’t like to listen to podcasts? Listeners are growing by the day in the major platforms (Spotify, Google, Apple Play). But is there QUALITY content? 

AI Theology presents to you a new podcast. Elias Kruger and Maggie Bender discuss the intersection between theology and technology in the budding world of AI and other emerging technologies. They bring the best from academy, industry and church together in a lively conversation. Join us and expand your mind with topics like ai ethics, ai for good, guest interviews and much more.

We already have a small intro and our first episode on air, here’s how you can listen to us:

Elias Kruger and Maggie Bender will take you into thought-provoking dialogues. Get to know our hosts and what you, our listener, can expect from this podcast. Click on top of your favorite podcast platform:

Listen on Spotify - spotify logo
Listen on google - google podcasts logo
Listen on apple podcasts - apple podcasts logo

After listening, don’t forget to hare wih friends and give us your feedback. Also don’t forget to rate the episodes on the podcast platforms. 

What do you want to hear about next?

Do We Live in a Technological Age?

Are we living in a technological age? A brief answer is that we have always lived in a technological age.

The danger we see is that technology is a product from ourselves. This brings fear and hope, both. We fear ourselves and have hope in ourselves.

At our January meeting, the AI Theology Advisory Board discussed the idea that we are living in a technological age. Understanding our time and context is an important step for our discussions and everything we do in AI Theology. Our exploration of AI and theology will be most fruitful if they are connected to the time in which we live.

We began with a presentation that reviewed the three perspectives outlined in previous blogs: Teilhard, Ellul, and Arthur. Here is a summary of our discussion:

Elias: I want to start with two questions.

1) Are we living in a technological age, and if so, why?

2) If we are living in a technological age, what is the danger of not acknowledging or discussing it? What happens when we take it for granted? In other words, if we are living it, what is the danger of not naming it?

The Nature of Technology

Maggie: Technology is such a part of life. The danger is that, if we omit reflection on it, we are suppressing a part of our own lives. If you spend your whole day interacting with the digital world, 40 hours a week, that is going to impact who you are and what the world means to you. 

Wen: I see technology not as a part of ourselves, but as something we interact with, either consciously or unconsciously. The third concept, from Arthur, reminded me of “stewardship of resources.” At a broad level, it’s how we steward our natural resources. How do we use our natural resources and make things out of them? I’m thinking here not only of digital technology but various types of technologies that impact the way we use resources.  

Elias: This subtle distinction can change how we interact with and discuss technology. One view is that technology is, in some ways, “the other.” We use and interact with it. The other view is that technology is a part of who we are. I’m not saying that either way is right or wrong. But this subtle distinction can change the way we approach technology.

There is fear and hope because technology is on the edge of the transcendental.

Frantisek Stech

Every Age Is Technological

Frantisek: Are we living in a technological age? A brief answer is that we have always lived in a technological age. When human beings started to reflect on themselves, they started organizing their environment–that is using technology. Even language can be considered technology in a sense. We can discuss building a nest as a kind of technology for animals. Since we are able to reflect on our skills, craftsmanship, or any kind of ability, this is technology. It’s the Greek word Téchne, the knowledge of “how to”. 

white egg on nest
Photo by nastia on Pexels.com

The danger we see is that technology is a product from ourselves. This brings fear and hope, both. We fear ourselves and have hope in ourselves. It is a clash between a Promethean approach to life and a transcendental approach to life. Between our own powers, and transcendental powers. Technology is something you can control. When you try to control the transcendental, it’s called magic. There is fear and hope because technology is on the edge of the transcendental. Everything is assembled like the Jewish story of golem, a creature made to serve the master. Technology has the potential to either serve or destroy the master, and the community it is inserted into.  

The larger issue of digital technology today is, it is a kind of development of the ecosystem. We are living in a digital landscape as well as the physical world. We fear that it will destroy us if we use it too much.

Technology and Culture

Frantisek: If we think about theology and AI, then it presupposes theology of technology, and before that, a theology of culture (for context).

Elias: We’ve always had technology, but is there something about the time we are living that makes it the dominant force? And this is where we can agree or disagree. We can say that technology is a reflection of other forces, or that technology itself influences everything. I have the idea that technology is the dominant force, and when we don’t talk about it, it becomes even more powerful. 

On the other hand, some people can think differently. 

Wen:  Technology today is built for automation and speed. So technologies of the past, like a windmill or a hammer, couldn’t do very much in a short time. This technology required more human effort to “make things happen.” A hammer couldn’t do much on its own, but today if you press a single button, many things can happen.

Elias: That’s an interesting point, Wen. Let me build on that a bit. Given the compounding of technologies in our time, not only is technology self-perpetuating but it is doing so with impressive speed. In other words, there is a different level of self-perpetuation that we may no longer be in control of. It is almost as if technology has taken a life of its own.

Religion and Technology

Ben: I think we’ve always lived in a technological age. As it relates to the theological construct, I think religion is technology. It’s meant to codify and systematize entropy and suffering, and explain it in a consistent worldview. That is a technological movement. It is also an attempt to systematize and control.

Is technology a co-creator, or is technology existential? This conversation has roots in incarnation. What does it mean to be enfleshed, a human? The question I come up with is, technology is about automation and efficiency. But for what? For what end, and what is the cost of this efficiency? I wonder if technology is unable to address incarnational needs such as love, truth, beauty, and we hope to automate those things so we can seek the intangibles. So there are now studies to classify the intangible human needs. Technology is becoming part of the intangible of life as well. 

burning candles in old palace with arched ceiling
Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com

Elias: What you are saying connects with what Maggie was talking about, the idea of technique as a way of control. The totality of technique–trying to find the best technique. Trying to find the best way to love or communicate. 

Purpose and Reflection

Maggie: One view of technology is that, “now we have more time to be fully human.” I don’t know if that actually happens. We spend more time thinking about what makes a human good than we do spending time with things we enjoy. The iterative nature of technology contains a reductionist assumption that everything that is good can be reduced to a test. There isn’t a lot of stepping back to ask about the larger purpose. For instance, “I’m working to reduce retail prices,” but do the retailers want help setting prices? Is that what is going to save them time? Does this technology improve something, reduce something? Is this really going to help people save time? 

Wen: The phone being replaced every two years, I see it more as capitalist behavior than as tech getting better. I think the underlying social context is consumption. This frames how the tech manifests itself. If we changed the cultural context of the world we live in, we would see a very different manifestation of technology. The products would be different. In a world where capitalism wasn’t the center, we would see a different line of technology, both in its tools and its uses. 

Technology is trying to be the Tower of Babel or the fountain of youth. I don’t mean just apps, but the broad range of technology and industries strive toward these ends

Wen Dombrowski

The Tower of Babel

Ben: I agree with what you said. Is there a longing aspect? Are we trying to create and advance ourselves to enlightenment? And if it’s true, the kingdom on earth concept becomes more concrete. Or are we iterating because we don’t know what else to do with the opportunity, cost, and time we have lost? Where does this get us any closer to enlightenment? 

Wen: Technology is trying to be the Tower of Babel or the fountain of youth. I don’t mean just apps, but the broad range of technology and industries strive toward these ends.

Ben: To illustrate this, I’m going to use myself as a negative example. One thing I learned with a neuroscientist is about the correlation of quality of sleep and cognitive issues (like dementia and Alzheimer’s). So I became obsessed with the technology of sleep, looking for technology to help me sleep. And when I lay down, I would get anxious about the fact I wasn’t sleeping. So when technology was supposed to help me sleep better and prevent these diseases, I was actually anxious about the tech. The existential crisis is that technology creates more opportunity for existential non-incarnational presence as we rely on “external transcendent divine,” rather than on our own ability, to track and examine data.

The Nature of Technology: Our Source of Fear and Hope

In previous blogs, I contrasted the critical view of Ellul toward technology with the more hopeful outlook of Teilhard. In this piece, I want to offer a third view of a technological age that is more detached yet still useful for our discussion: W. Brian Arthur’s emphasis on the link between technology and nature. If the positive and negative value judgments offered by Teilhard and Ellul form two ends of a spectrum, Arthur’s alternative takes us outside that spectrum. He provides a more neutral evaluation of what technology is and how humankind should approach it.

Hailing from the prestigious Santa Fe Institute, economist W. Brian Arthur was one of the first academics to tackle the question of how technology evolves. In his 2009 seminal work, The Nature of Technology: What It Is and How It Evolves, Arthur sketches the theoretical contours of how technology emerges. Using examples from the last two centuries, he builds a comprehensive case to show how new technologies build upon previous technologies, similar in nature but also with their own particularities. This book is a valuable resource for anyone seeking a deep-dive, theoretical perspective on the topic of technology’s emergence and evolution.

Given Arthur’s theoretical and technical approach, what could such a detached view contribute to our discussion on the technological age? How can his observations and framework inform a broader analysis of technology’s impact on society? I would like to highlight two main insights from the book that provide further nuance to our discussion.

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Nature-of-Technology/W-Brian-Arthur/9781416544067

Nature and Purpose

Arthur defines technology as an effort to harness natural phenomena for a purpose. If we break down this definition, two main insights emerge. The first is the recognition that technology is intricately tied to nature. That is, the technology we have today is only here because nature provided the conditions, parameters, and materials for them to exist. Technology does not exist in a vacuum and it is not self-referential. In order to make it work, at its foundation, one must understand the laws of nature that govern our planet, or at least enough of them to use and direct them for a purpose. This is why the marriage of science and technology that started in the 20th century has been so effective. Our understanding of nature grew by leaps and bounds in the last century, and so did technology.

Underneath this point, there is also a surprising realization. Because of nature’s primacy, it does not need technology to live on. After all, nature has progressed for billions of years on Earth without the help of human technologies. It can continue to do so in spite of the absence or failure of technologies in the future. Technology, on the other hand, cannot exist without nature. That is, if we move out to another planet, all our technologies must be reconfigured or redesigned to fit into a new world.

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The second insight from Arthur’s definition of technology is equally illuminating. That is, technology starts with a purpose. If we press this question further, it often starts with a problem yearning to be resolved. The builders begin with a clear end goal, exploring the best approach that will best reach that goal. In this way, it is very similar to evolution in nature, an iterative process always in the search for the best way to enhance and perpetuate life in a given environment.

Source of Fear and Hope

Arthur’s work stays mostly on the technical and theoretical level for the vast majority of the book. He goes on in detail not just to explain his theory but also to demonstrate it with examples of how specific technologies evolved. Yet, towards the end, the book takes a more reflective tone. In that part, the author talks about the relationship humans have with technology that goes beyond just building them.

Arthur also evaluates human attitudes towards technology in pop culture and more specifically in science fiction. There he finds an interesting paradox: humans both fear and hope in technology. On the one hand, the technological artifacts that surround our lives give us a sense that they are unnatural, artificial. They are not always intuitive, nor do they blend well with our environments. They evoke strangeness to bodies that evolved for millions of years without their aid. We are unsettled by them. We fear them.

On the other hand, we often deposit our hope in technology. Nature can harm us, or limit us, and technology promises to help us harness nature in ways that allow us to surpass those limitations. In a world where nature has lost its enchantment, we turn our adoring eyes to technology. We look to technical solutions to calm our fears, reduce our anxieties, and provide comfort and distraction from the harsh realities of life. Though the author does not go that far, I would say that the cult of technology has become a religion in and of itself.

Conclusion

Where Ellul approaches technology with pessimism and Teilhard with optimism, Arthur’s perspective allows for both. The paradox of fear and hope undergirds and defines our technological age. There is hope that as technology advances, human suffering and death will diminish. There is also a profound sense of loss and a nagging desire to return to nature, the starting point for our bodies. That uneasiness is hard to shake off.

Above all, Dr. Arthur highlights technology’s dependence on nature. This is a remarkable insight that leads us back into reflections on identity and connection. If technology is dependent on nature, then one could argue that it is an extension of nature just like we are. If that is the case then it is time to remove the illusion of artificial versus natural. It is all natural.

If we see technology and nature as a continuum, we can enrich our conversation about technology. It is no longer a foreign agent that we need to deal with, but a reflection of who we are.

Living Faithfully in a Technological Age: Heeding Ellul’s Warnings

We are living in a technological age. The acceleration and pervasiveness of technology (both as knowledge and objects) is a dominant force shaping the direction of history. No other time in history has techno-optimism, the idea that we can “techno” our way out of any problem, been such a driving force in society. As Big tech, maybe the biggest symbol of this trend, accumulate staggering profit, the narrative marches on.

Consider this, if the global technology sector were a country, its GDP would be the third-largest in the world. Even so, the pervasiveness of tech extends far beyond the economy. It has come to touch every aspect of human societies, revolutionizing how we shop, study, work, and relate to each other. The cyber-world, as it was once known, is no longer a virtual representation of reality. It is, instead, a reality of its own that now exists in parallel to our offline reality.

If technology is the defining force of our age, how can we live the good life in it? For centuries humans have asked this question as a way to engage faithfully with their environment. How do we do that in a technological age? In this case, a clarification is in order. In a time where the word technology gets thrown around a lot, what actually does it mean? To help us with this task we now turn to a 20th-century scholar.

The Danger of Technique

In 1954, French theologian and sociologist Jacques Ellul put forth one of the most complete critique of technology’s impact on humanity. His seminal work, La technique ou l’enjeu du siècle, is one of the first to recognize that we were indeed living in a technological age. In his view, that was a concerning development. He saw the rise of technology as a vortex that started in the industrial revolution but accelerated in the last two centuries. He used the French word technique that meant not just the objects themselves but a mentality, an approach to the world. Underneath it was the culmination belief that the world was a machine, and that by combining the right parts, one could solve any problem.

Technology was not a neutral force. Instead, it was marked by rationality. It obeyed prescribed rules and follow dictated patterns. It is obsessed with efficiency in every field of human activity. Not only that, but it often supplants and destroys the old, replacing them with the new. In doing so, it often leaves a trail of loss, confusion, and disorientation.

Furthermore, he believed that technology was self-perpetuating. It starts with a narrow purpose in mind but eventually, by creating new problems, it begets new objects to address it. In this way, it can raise whole new industries in a short amount of time. Thus, it can both be a fantastic driver of economic growth and job creation, even as it destroys and disrupts existing structures.

Techno-determinism and the Human-Machine Telos

Photo by ThisIsEngineering from Pexels

Jacques Ellul observed that technology tends to be deterministic. This is even more true today in a digital age where algorithms and decision engines are shaping our future by predicting, nudging, and optimizing human behavior toward pre-determined aims. In its pursuit of perfectionist dreams, it stubbornly seeks the most efficient method in a process which often supplants human creativity. It imposes its preferred method as a universal law, forcing all its users to follow its pre-determined principles.

At its essence, it drives the future toward a human-machine telos. Because it believes the universe is mechanistic, it further transforms us into machines. Technology, therefore, seeks to conform us to its image of mechanical perfection. It treats living beings as predictable objects built to accomplish narrow objectives.

If it wasn’t enough, Ellul believed that as it became ubiquitous, it has also become the new sacred. Supplanting religious hegemonies of the past, technology is the new god before which everyone must bow. One cannot question it, one must only accept its sovereign plan for a future of efficiency, perfection, and effectiveness. In that, he could not be more right.

A Faithful Response

It does not take much probing to realize Ellul’s proposed response to this predicament. In a technological age, where our world has turned to tech worship, Ellul is an iconoclast. Breaking down the idols through resistance and subversion is the only way. As a Christian, he believed that to be the most appropriate response in view of a mounting techno-tyranny. The faithful must throw a wrench into the whole process and work for its collapse.

By that, I don’t think he meant a complete return to nature. Yet, it starts with a recognition of the pervasive pernicious impact of technology in society. Resistance to technique, as both objects and mentality, is a return to human creativity and partnership. It most certainly entails a new way to build and operate machinery. A way in which it recognizes its limitations while upholding the sacredness of live beings.

mystic Christianity
Photo by Kiwihug on Unsplash

It means dismantling the centralizing power of techno elites and spreading their knowledge with the masses. Placing technology in its rightful place as one tool among many in the work for the flourishing of life. A subversion that returns to the human and hopefully leads us back to the ultimate. This is the type of response, I believe, Jacques Ellul could get behind and see it as a faithful rendering of his legacy.

Conclusion

Ellul’s critique of technology only gets more relevant with time. The prophetic insights that he originally saw in the half of the 20th century continue to reverberate in a world where technique has only become more predominant. Coupled with an appropriate mindset that replaces despair with action, it can lead to the type of subversion we need to see in our time.

Even so, one must ask whether subversion is enough in a technological age. Is technique only a phenomenon to be resisted, an evil to be controlled? Even if it is properly pursued as a tool, is that sufficient to capture its meaning. Are there other fascets we must see if we are to fully comprehend this technological age? That is when we turn next to another French prophet, paleontologist, and theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

Reshaping Christian Ministry in a Post-Covid World

It’s no secret that the church is changing in the post-Covid world. Ask any church leader and they are likely to tell you the same thing: It’s easy to draw a dividing line between the pre-pandemic world and the one we live in now. Patterns of church attendance and giving are different, as is the nature of Christian spiritual formation, the way we gather with others to learn, fellowship, and pray. As 2020 turned to 2021 and now 2022, it’s become clear that what started as a temporary suspension of life, as usual, has become a drastic shift of the status quo. “Normal” in 2022 means something different than it did in 2019.

It’s also no secret that technology is a major driver of these changes. A slew of platforms facilitate virtual small group meetings, and it’s never been easier to stream and record worship services with devices and software already on hand. The technologies that enable many people to work from home also enable us to “church from home.” Whether that’s a positive or negative shift, we can debate. What’s not debatable is the reality of it. For better or worse, technology is reshaping Christian ministry in the post-Covid world we live in.

Shifting Worship Practices

Shifts in worship and discipleship, two of the most central arenas of Christian ministry, illustrate the increasing influence of technology. Before the onset of the pandemic, in the United States, many churches offered online worship, and the number of churches doing so was increasing steadily each year. But generally, it was reserved for larger churches, usually offered through their own church website, and attendance online was sporadic. In mid-March of 2020, the Barna research group reported that 2 percent of practicing Christians attended a church with a live-streamed or other video sermons, saying “the data suggest these services are still a novelty.” Even in early 2020, streaming your worship service was a luxury for forward-thinking congregations who could afford it. Attending worship online was what you did when you were out of town and couldn’t worship in person, or a way for college students and those who had recently moved away to remain connected to the church.

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This all changed in the spring of 2020 when the coronavirus pandemic forced congregations to suspend in-person gatherings. Almost overnight, nearly every pastor and church leader faced a choice: find a way for the congregation to worship online, or forgo worship altogether. Most chose to establish online worship, and it became a vital link between the congregation and its people when the usual links had been severed. By June of 2020, Barna found that 96 percent of pastors reported they had begun streaming their worship services. The change happened swiftly, and even when a return to in-person worship became possible, churches continued to offer it online as well. They had taken the step, invested in the necessary resources, and seen the expected and unexpected benefits. Today, more congregations than ever offer worship online, many of them using one or more established tools such as Youtube or Facebook live.

Many of the questions regarding online worship have shifted as well, from “whether” to “how.” Before the pandemic, a congregation may have asked about viability and value. “Should we offer online worship? What will it cost, in money, time, and energy, and will it be worth the investment? Will people attend less often if they have the option?” Now that so many churches have taken the step, the sense appears to be that there is no going back. Questions now are geared toward best practices. “How can we offer online worship in the best possible way? What is the right time and format? Where should our cameras be placed? What streaming service(s) should we use to reach the most people?” And perhaps most importantly, “How can we follow up with those who encounter us online?”

Discipleship and Formation

Similar changes are taking place in the realm of discipleship and Christian formation, with the emergence of virtual or hybrid small groups alongside those that meet in person. In my congregation, several adult Sunday school and small groups classes began meeting weekly or bi-weekly by Zoom during the pandemic. A number of new groups began online during this time, with some continuing to gather virtually.

When gathering in person became possible once again, we maintained a way for people to connect virtually. And at least one of our Sunday school classes meets in person but uses Facebook’s Portal to allow people to attend virtually as well. Typically they have 4-8 people participating from home alongside the 20 or more in the classroom each week. Last fall, one Wednesday night class met in person with a computer in the room for people to participate via Zoom. I taught a different class that met in our chapel, but we also streamed it through Facebook Live and allowed people to interact via the comments.

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Conversations with leaders and congregants in other churches paint a similar picture elsewhere. There’s a mixture of gathering online and in person. It’s messy, inconsistent from one place to the next as leaders experiment, adapt, and do what’s right in their context. But the big picture is that gathering online has emerged as a viable way to connect with fellow Christians for Bible study and fellowship, and it’s not going away.

A Glimpse of the future

It’s difficult to say much that is specific about the long-term effects of these changes. It’s still relatively new, and churches and their leaders are still finding their way through them. And of course, my experience and observations are limited. I’m speaking primarily about congregations in the United States, while technology is driving other sorts of change in other parts of the world. Even so, I can point to three early patterns that may be trends.

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The first is a geographical shift. It’s easier than ever before to connect with a church in another city or state, because much of what they do is online now. People who move away can remain involved in the congregation by worshiping online and participating in virtual small groups. If my family member or friend across the country tells me about a positive church experience, I can see it for myself by connecting with that church online. If my favorite Christian author is a pastor, I can begin to attend their church even if I live hundreds of miles away. In this emerging reality, the quality of online worship and small group offerings becomes important, and following up effectively with those who connect online is even more important.

The second is a temporal shift. Streamed worship remains a live event, but if it’s recorded for later viewing, then “attendance” suddenly diffuses over several days instead of a single hour on Sunday. The same is true for some classes and small groups. Last fall I taught an in-person class that was streamed through Facebook Live. During the class, we had a handful of online participants, maybe 4 or 5. But when I went back a week later, I discovered Facebook had recorded more than a hundred views. Now, views alone is an unreliable metric—it may be that someone just paused on it for a few seconds as they scrolled through their feed. But even so, the class was being encountered, even in a small way, for several days after I taught it.

The third is increased recognition among church leaders of the importance and potential of digital connections. More pastors and church leaders are not only paying attention to online offerings but developing the skillsets to use them well. Church staffs and volunteer teams are beginning to include roles specifically focused on digital ministry, especially at larger churches. And forward-thinking church leaders and writers are beginning to look farther ahead, asking what implications things like cryptocurrency and the Metaverse might have for the future of Christian ministry, and what steps congregations need to take today in order to prepare for them. 

Emerging technology is reshaping Christian ministry, just as it’s reshaping many aspects of our lives. It is more important than ever for us to pay attention to technology, both the systems and devices that are already well-entrenched and the emerging technology that is going to shape the world tomorrow. As the pandemic made all too clear, the distance between the present and the future is incredibly small. The present is not a static set of circumstances but a constantly evolving, dynamic landscape in which emerging tech is a major driver of change. Looking to the future, and technology’s role within it, is a faithful act in the present.

Brian Sigmon is an acquisitions editor at The United Methodist Publishing House, where he edits books, Bible studies, and official resources for The United Methodist Church. He has a Ph.D. in biblical studies from Marquette University, and has published a number of academic and popular articles on the Bible and Christian theology. Brian loves to teach and to help people of all backgrounds deepen their understanding of Scripture. When he isn’t editing, teaching, or writing about faith and technology, Brian enjoys woodworking and writing science fiction. He lives in Kingston Springs, Tennessee with his wife and their three children.