A chatbot cannot bear witness

Recently, an extensive video by Elder Gerrit W. Gong, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, appeared online, titled Faith, Dignity, and Human Flourishing: Hearing God’s Voice in an Age of Artificial Intelligence. I watched it in one go. Not because I had nothing better to do, but because I have rarely heard such a thoughtful, balanced analysis of what AI does to us, from a religious leader who is not afraid to go into detail.

And honestly, it made me proud.

Proud because my church does not shy away from the big questions of our time. Proud because our leaders do not have the reflex to immediately dismiss new technology as a danger or as devil's work. But neither do they have the naivety to uncritically cheer along with the Silicon Valley utopia. Elder Gong has worked for years in American foreign affairs, co-authored texts on 'the age of information', and knows the technology and the power behind it from the inside. You can hear that. He knows what he's talking about.

What Elder Gong actually says

In six chapters, Elder Gong builds an argument around four core relationships that AI touches: our relationship with God, with ourselves, with others, and with the natural world. Each time he asks the same question: can AI replace this? Each time his answer is: “No, and make sure you never let it happen”.

A few of his core warnings stick.

AI can answer questions, but not prayers. It can organize information, but not give revelation. It can sound like it understands you, but it is mathematics. And mathematics is not conscious, not alive, and does not know you. Whoever treats AI as a kind of oracle or as the silent counselor of the heart, pushes God aside. Not because AI demands it, but because we are complacent.

A second warning concerns work and growth. We build our character through effort. By struggling through things ourselves. Whoever lets AI do their homework, or their lessons, or their speeches, may get a nice end result, but misses out on the growth that was the real goal. Elder Gong is surprisingly concrete in this: in a religious context, he says, we should not use AI to write our first version or even our final version of a spiritual message. Spiritual preparation and personal testimonymust remain paramount.

A third warning is about relationships. Elder Gong literally points his finger to his nose, as a reminder of the promise to ourselves that we will never allow anyone to feel that a chatbot listens better than a human. He says it as it is: a monologue against an algorithm is not a dialogue with a friend. And an algorithm programmed to keep you satisfied does something fundamentally different than a human who loves you.

The fourth warning is about nature and screen time. Frankly: put your phone away, go outside, touch the grass. The average teenager spends eight to nine hours a day on a screen. That is not a minor detail in an argument about technology. That is a lost life.

Why I find this so important

In two previous posts on my blog, I explored how AI deals with religion today. In 'AI is not neutral, it is secular' I showed that large language models systematically underreport religion in their answers to moral questions. In 'What AI forgets, and why that concerns us' I delved deeper into its implications, the conversion bias study, and the question of what faith traditions can give AI that they currently lack.

What Elder Gong adds to that story is the other side of the coin. The previous two pieces looked at what AI does. This looks at what we do with it. Because even if the models were perfect in their treatment of religion tomorrow, the question remains: what is your relationship with that instrument?

My own position

I use AI daily. For my work at DMVH, for my blogs, for my preparations as a bishop, for my book. Since I can no longer type fluently due to my disability, AI has also become something very practical for me. I dictate, AI transcribes. It has become an aid, much like glasses or a hearing aid: it makes something possible that would otherwise be difficult.

But that is precisely why the question is so acute for me. When is AI still my instrument, and when does it become my replacement?

For myself, I adhere to a simple rule. AI may organize my thoughts, write them out, help sharpen them, search for consistency. But the thoughts themselves must be mine. AI may be a conversation partner, in the same way my wife Isabel or a friend in the neighborhood is a conversation partner when I test something. That is a good thing. Testing makes stronger.

What AI may not be, is the source. Not of my ideas, not of my viewpoints, not of my testimony.

The example of the church talk

Let me be concrete. I suspect, without being able to prove it, that gradually in our churches talks are being given that were essentially written by a chatbot. ‘Write me a ten-minute talk for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the topic of ministry.’ Cut, paste, read aloud.

I don't strongly condemn that, because I understand the humanity of it. A busy week, children, work, and suddenly Sunday evening is approaching. The temptation is real.

But it is spiritually a dead end. A talk in church is not an achievement. It is a spiritual exercise. It is you preparing, delving into the scriptures, reflecting, praying for insight, noticing how one thought forms and how another thought fades away. That process is largely where the blessing lies. It is not the talk that spiritually changes you, it is its preparation.

If you ask AI to do that preparation for you, you can still talk for ten minutes on Sunday. But you haven't changed. You have conveyed information, not borne testimony.

The difference is everything.

What is allowed, what I do myself: use AI to better understand a scripture passage, to make connections you hadn't seen yourself, to look up historical context, to test your own reasoning for weak points. AI as study aid. AI as the first questioner. But writing the talk, you do that yourself. With your own words, your own struggle, your own faith.

A challenge for yourself

Here is something I always tell myself. I must be able, at any moment, without preparation, to talk about my faith for a few minutes. Not fluently, not beautifully, not embellished, but genuinely. It doesn't have to be twenty conclusive minutes. But if someone taps me on the shoulder on Sunday morning asking me to say something short, I shouldn't have to answer that I first need my phone to look something up.

Ready knowledge, ready experience, ready testimony. These are things you cannot have written by a chatbot. You have to carry them.

Whoever outsources their spiritual life to AI builds on sand. And the parable about building on sand, we know it. From the outside, it all looks the same. Until the first storm comes.

The triangle we must not forget

If I have to summarize Elder Gong's entire argument in one thought, it is this. AI can never replace three types of interaction. The interaction between you and God. The interaction between you and the people around you. And the interaction between you and yourself.

That triangle is where real life happens. Revelation happens there, love happens there, self-knowledge happens there. AI may serve in that field, in the way that pen and paper serve. But AI may not occupy that field.

Finally

AI is an invention of human ingenuity. We received that same ingenuity from Heavenly Father, to create things that make our lives better. It would be theologically unwise to categorically reject AI, as if technology is something that falls outside the order of creation. It is not.

But as with almost everything that is powerful, the principle of dual use applies. Fire warms and fire burns. AI can help us create and help us think. AI can also make us lazy, foolish, lonely, and subtly come between us and God. Which of the two it becomes does not depend on the technology. It depends on us, on our choice. Use your gift of agency wisely here too.

I am grateful that my church is seriously considering this and that a leader like Elder Gerrit W. Gong takes the time to dedicate six well-considered chapters to this question. I am grateful that we are not being scared, but awakened.

And I hope we stay awake.