In the immediate context of this line in What’s Wrong with the World (from 1910), Chesterton is discussing domesticity and changes in culture regarding the expectations of men and women at the beginning of the 20th century.

This context might at first make this idea seem irrelevant to our day and age. Yet, the broader cultural trends Chesterton laments lay far beyond questions about the household. His unexpected turn of phrase is amazingly applicable to our technologically drenched world, especially given the rise of artificial intelligence (AI) and its use.

Chesterton was critical of the rise of specialization, whereby areas of expertise are parceled out and territorialized within society. His point was that the home is the last bastion of amateurism as specialization has taken over commerce. The “amateur” is a person who does something out of love, either love of the thing one is doing or love of those for whom one does that thing. We understand this if we think about our hobbies. We do some things because those things are good to do in themselves, not because we are the best at them or because we can monetize them.

Fast forward to the 21st century and this “leave it to the experts” mentality has not disappeared, but has rather given way to a form of perfectionism that relies heavily on the collective expertise to which technology gives us access. Technology, particularly artificial intelligence, gives us powerful tools for accessing and analyzing data and creating new syntheses of that data. But technology is always meant to serve humanity. A tool is merely a tool.

In his recent encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas: On Safeguarding the Human Person in the Time of Artificial Intelligence, Pope Leo XIV — echoing Pope Francis’ Laudato Sí — points to the danger of embracing a “technocratic paradigm” whereby all things, including human beings, are measured by the considerations that move technology. Leo specifically mentions efficiency, control and profitability (MH 92). Following this worldview yields a subversion of the right order of things, where technology must serve the human person and not vice versa.

Though we don’t have the space to do so completely here, there is much wisdom to unpack in Magnifica Humanitas. Pope Leo’s concern for honoring the dignity of the human person against the horizon of technology should lead us to reflect and consider the tasks and activities for which we employ technology like artificial intelligence, and ask ourselves what our motivations are for doing so.

We often utilize AI for the sake of efficiency and quality. We are looking for quick and near-perfect answers, solutions or products. Chesterton’s above-mentioned witty point should come to mind here. While it can be good to use AI to help us with certain tasks, maybe there are other things worth doing in themselves. Graphics, stories and music can all be generated nearly instantaneously by AI, but can we consider them art? Visual, literary and musical arts all involve a form of communication that AI cannot replicate. There is something missing, something sacred, from the process when AI takes control.

I would argue that what is “missing” is authenticity, the self-expression of the author — and please note the common root between “author” and “authenticity.” Because no person is “behind” the project that AI generates, there is a one-dimensionality to it. AI can analyze, collate and rearrange data in an aesthetically pleasing and on-demand way. In the end, it has no self to give, no sacred to be, in the same way that a human author, artist or composer is present in his or her work.

So, what does all of this have to do with Via Fidelis and this Year of Catechesis? Well, catechesis is the transmission of the faith not simply as a set of truths (fides quae creditur — the faith which is believed), but also as a lived relationship with truth itself (fides qua creditur — the faithful, personal act of believing). A catechist gives of himself or herself in catechesis because that person is sharing the life-giving relationship of God’s love, communion, that grounds his or her life. Catechesis can never be depersonalized because it is, ultimately, the communicating and cultivation of an interpersonal relationship.

Like various forms of art, catechesis is a task that is worth doing in itself, even if we do it imperfectly, for love of it and for those with whom it is shared. When it comes to transmitting the faith, authenticity goes much farther than perfection. That does not mean we should catechize in a sloppy or careless manner, any more than a musician should slam out notes haphazardly and call it music. It does mean that a catechist learns, hones and grows in the art of teaching the faith over time. It also means that catechesis doesn’t happen without a catechist.

So, a catechist cannot be replaced by technology in the pursuit of the perfect articulation of the faith, even though AI can potentially assemble and present truth in a way that is clear and understandable. Clarity and authenticity are two different things. No matter how well AI assembles a presentation of what we believe, faith is always more perfectly articulated when it is embodied in the life of the believer.

Authenticity is the key to effective catechesis. Wrestling with and communicating something that impacts the very foundation of our life of faith is far too important to leave up to technological experts. It is certainly too important a task to surrender to a machine.