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.
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.
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.
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
When Saint Paul VI coined the phrase “the civilization of love,” 177Cf. Saint Paul VI, Regina Caeli (17 May 1970): Insegnamenti di Paolo VI, vol. VIII, 506. 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. 178Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 183: AAS 112 (2020), 1033-1034.
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. 179Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, 26: AAS 58 (1966), 1046-1047. 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.