VATICAN CITY (VATICAN CITY)
America [New York NY]
June 18, 2026
By Robert Hurley
There is much to unpack in Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical “Magnifica Humanitas.” It covers the regulation of artificial intelligence, the relationship between work and human dignity, justice issues arising from power asymmetries, and the history of Catholic social teaching.
It is fair to question whether an institution with critical governance failures of its own is well positioned to advise on regulating technology, but a close reading of the encyclical shows that Leo understands these failures. He goes so far as to thank journalists for helping the church reform. The boldness of Leo’s leadership can be contrasted with Pope John Paul II’s first formal communication on the child sexual abuse crisis in 1993, eight years after credible authorities had identified the problem as widespread in the Doyle Report. John Paul II framed abuse as primarily a sin and devoted an entire paragraph to condemning media “sensationalism.” Nine years after this missed opportunity for robust self-examination and reform, the crisis erupted.
In his presentation of “Magnifica Humanitas,” Leo invited Chris Olah, co-founder of the A.I. company Anthropic, to speak. “Every frontier A.I. lab—including Anthropic—operates inside a set of incentives and constraints that can sometimes conflict with doing the right thing,” said Mr. Olah, who has since called for slowing down A.I. development. “No matter how sincerely any of us intend to do the right thing—and I believe many of us do—we will always be influenced by those incentives.”
What these two leaders acknowledge is that A.I. companies cannot be trusted to regulate themselves entirely. They can and must develop ways to self-regulate and change course when they drift from an ethical path (e.g., fraud, negligence, deception). But because of the constant presence of bias and an inherent tendency toward self-protection, they cannot do this alone. Organizations often continue, seemingly without awareness, down paths that violate their espoused values. (Wells Fargo’s fictitious bank accounts and Volkswagen’s emissions defeat devices might be at the top of a rather long list.) Organizations, whether a church or a bank, need outside perspectives and reality checks.
In “Magnifica Humanitas,” Leo argues that church leaders can only effectively govern in community with those they serve. He is suggesting that in a world of change, risk, diverse interests and imbalances of power, A.I. companies and the church alike owe the world reliable structures for governance. Research tells us that during periods of adaptive change, learning must precede prescription. This is why he rightly avoids offering specific regulatory interventions and calls for governance based on a process of ongoing dialogue—a synodal method.
The church is one of the oldest and largest institutions in the world. It comprises many organizations, including religious orders, hospitals, schools, parishes and dioceses. My research on organizational trustworthiness suggests that internal and external pressures can cause organizational drift—unintended and ungoverned change. This drift can culminate in the betrayal of stakeholders. Learning, both experiential and deliberate, is required for effective governance. Without it, drift often leads to violations of trust and stakeholders respond by trusting less or not at all.
There is no more compelling case study than the well-documented abuse of children by priests, which continued for decades because the church failed to learn and failed to act to protect children. Impediments to learning were rooted in church culture and structure. Secrecy, obedience and deference to clergy (clericalism) were embedded in canon law and institutional culture. These factors, combined with an excessively hierarchical structure, made honest self-examination and collective learning nearly impossible.
Many people knew children were being abused within the church. But, as the John Jay study commissioned by the U.S. bishops concluded, the magnitude and systemic nature of the problem was unknown. A collective awareness did not come about until the Boston Globe Spotlight team’s investigation in 2002 forced a reckoning. The Dallas Charter subsequently transformed the church’s structures and capabilities with respect to its youngest and most vulnerable members. Given this experience, and its tradition of examining deep human questions, the church is in a unique position to offer counsel on governing A.I.
Yet “Magnifica Humanitas” raises a governance question that the church must continue to confront directly. How does an institution whose identity is rooted in tradition develop effective mechanisms for learning and change—balancing fidelity to core identity with the evolution required to remain trustworthy to those it serves? A modern version of the theologian Yves Congar’s notion of reform, through the reinterpretation of traditions rather than the abandonment of them, needs to be developed.
If we take a relatively uncontested issue as our example, that children should be safe within the church, the operational challenges become clear. Implementing the necessary controls demands a sharing of power with priests, women religious and lay members that is not yet fully embraced either structurally or culturally within the church.
Concerning more general, and perhaps more contested governance issues, more work is needed. Consider the criticism Pope Francis received when he opened the previously bishop-centric synod process on governance to women and lay members and allowed them to vote. Hard institutional work remains if the church is to develop the governance capabilities to both honor its traditions and be dynamic. Trust among the church community and the world demands such capabilities. They are the foundation of credibility and influence.
Leo is right to weigh in on A.I. Despite its imperfections, the church can nevertheless serve as a moral counterweight to powerful interests and market forces. But “Magnifica Humanitas” should also serve as a call to the church as a community to continue, with greater effort and boldness, working on itself.
It’s a lot easier to suggest that others change than it is to change ourselves. Among the many tragedies of the child sexual abuse crisis was that an important moral voice went missing. Leo seems to have found it again. Now we need to protect its credibility and power to influence.