Each day we hear about new ways AI technology can improve the way we do education, business, industry, health care, and communication. It will bring increased efficiency through automation, enhanced healthcare treatment and the convenience provided by the latest smart home device, we’re told. Undoubtedly, the influence of AI is far-reaching, affecting every aspect of society.
Nevertheless, our discussions are also tinged with anxiety. We’ve recognized that, as technology continues to advance, responsible adoption is crucial in light of ethical considerations and privacy concerns. We must be thoughtful if we aspire to a future where AI augments human abilities in ways that lead to an improved quality of life.
Fear of unforeseen consequences has always accompanied the introduction of new technologies, from the printing press to television to the internet. We confront AI with a combination of enthusiasm and dread. I’ve always been fascinated by how films both deliberately and inadvertently speak to the anxieties of an era — including the anxieties that revolve around the potential for AI to achieve consciousness. I’ve always been more interested in the ways technology can enhance our own consciousness, but our fears are loud.
How Science Fiction Tells the Truth
As cinema often provides commentary on the zeitgeist, we can look to the latest movies to glean insights into technology’s cultural impact. We might even view cinema’s history as a series of reactions to the societal dynamics that have played out since the advent of the medium. Taking movies seriously means we see them beyond their function as entertainment and recognize them as mirrors that reflect our cultural values, fears, and aspirations. Cinema embodies in broadly visible ways our most pressing concerns and dilemmas. But it also helps us process our collective anxieties.
Science fiction uniquely confronts not only emerging technologies but also the apprehensions and uncertainties they evoke. It’s the most popular medium through which we engage in discourse regarding the convergence of humanity and technology.
In terms of AI, we can look as far back as 1927 and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. An influential German expressionist film of the silent era, the film expresses the fear of AI’s potential for diabolical manipulation. Its themes of labor exploitation and social upheaval — instigated by the creation of a robot that replicates human behavior — reflect our ongoing concern with the economic impacts of automation.
Metropolis pioneered cinema’s engagement with AI, setting the stage for a plethora of modern films that delve into our complicated relationship with technology. I’ve always found that the best sci-fi will wrestle with the question of what it means to be human. The films of today might be seen as barometers for gauging how we feel about the latest advancements in AI.
Like so many sci-fi enthusiasts, I love and admire Ridley Scott’s 1982 masterpiece Blade Runner. No discussion of contemporary films that address AI can ignore its influence. It’s worth noting that despite their distance in time, Metropolis and Bladerunner abound in thematic similarities. Both explore dystopian futures where societal hierarchies are starkly divided, with powerful elites dominating over oppressed workers. And each addresses existential questions by blurring the lines between humanity and artificial intelligence. It comes as little surprise that in 2017 a sequel, Blade Runner 2049, was made.
As AI technology continues to advance, questions surrounding consciousness, autonomy, and the moral implications of creating intelligent beings remain at the forefront of public discourse. Blade Runner serves as a cautionary tale, urging us to consider the ethical ramifications of AI development and its impact on society and human identity. The film adeptly translates the influence of a modernist classic into a postmodern context, effectively reimagining Metropolis’s vision for the 1980s. Its sequel functions in a comparable way for more recent audiences.
Films as diverse as 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Terminator, The Matrix series, Ex-Machina, and M3GAN, all envision a future where technological innovation leads to disaster. They serve as allegories warning us against our moral failings. In the sci-fi film, environmental collapse, biological threats, societal breakdown, and technological dystopia are events in which we confront the repercussions of our actions. These films project collective sin onto larger-than-life scenarios. The disasters, whether caused by greed, hubris, or negligence, also underscore the failure of institutions to prioritize the common good.
But science fiction also emphasizes human potential by showing how technology can transform the world. Many sci-fi films serve as parables that help us work through conflicts at a comfortable remove while also inspiring new visions of the future. These films encourage us to ponder how we can all progress toward a future filled with hope and redemption.
Tech Meets Us
Conventional science fiction casts its gaze outward, addressing the whole of society and the planet, while more inward-focused films often share a concern with personal transformation in the context of human relationships navigated through technology.
Spike Jonze’s Her (2013) was one of those films. In it, Joaquin Phoenix plays a lonely man named Theodore Twombly. Theodore develops a romantic relationship with an AI operating system named Samantha, personified by the sultry voice of Scarlett Johansson. As opposed to being a threat, the film depicts future technology as an integral and personal aspect of everyday existence. Her signals a departure from sci-fi’s frequent concern with technology’s potential for harm or destruction and focuses instead on its psychological and emotional effects on our interpersonal relationships. Theodore develops self-awareness through another with technology serving as the vehicle for an inward journey of the heart.
As they address our relationship with technology, many of these quieter films also poignantly illustrate the void we experience in moments of disconnection. In the German romantic sci-fi comedy, I’m Your Man (2021), a female scientist participates in an experiment that requires living with a humanoid robot that’s been created to make her happy. The film confronts introspective questions about love, human communication, identity, and the nature of desire. Similarly, in Lars and the Real Girl (2007), the main character, played by Ryan Gosling, forms a deep bond with a lifelike doll, prompting self-awareness and personal growth within the context of another unconventional relationship. Each of these films highlights the intimate side of technological interactivity, portraying it as a medium for self-discovery.
I’ve come to believe that the most imaginative engagement with technology always leads to fundamental questions about the nature of being. I’ve witnessed this in my favorite sci-fi, but I’ve learned that it can be equally true when technology becomes a vehicle for our inner journeys.
In the spring of 2020, science fiction seemed to infiltrate our daily lives when the COVID-19 pandemic forced swift and widespread change. Suddenly, concepts once relegated to the realm of sci-fi, like remote work and virtual meetings, became essential to navigating the new normal. We adapted to these changes in part by creating simulations of interactions that had become restricted. Suddenly, technology was having a profound impact on even our most mundane tasks.
The pandemic bore eerie resemblances to scenarios depicted in sci-fi horror movies, invoking a sense of dystopia reminiscent of the cinematic narratives that had been part of our pop cultural diet for years. The sudden emergence of a deadly virus and its rapid global spread echoed apocalyptic scenarios portrayed in films like Contagion (2011) and 28 Days Later (2002). The imposition of lockdown measures and the sight of empty streets evoked a post-apocalyptic atmosphere like that of I Am Legend (2007) or The Day After Tomorrow (2004). Then there was the scarcity of essential supplies and the overwhelming burden on health care systems, which harkened back to the societal collapse we saw in Children of Men (2006), The Road (2009), and the many stories that inspired them. The collective sense of anxiety, fear, uncertainty, and isolation experienced during the pandemic seemed unreal, yet thanks to sci-fi, strangely familiar as well. The technology of video conferencing, which now became central to our communication with others, had long been imagined in both Metropolis and Blade Runner, as well as in Star Trek, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Back to the Future Part II, and other films and TV shows over the decades.
When Tech Met Church
As society navigates challenges real and fictional, the church is faced with navigating them, too. Our vision of church comes into play in how we imagine the future.
After the pandemic began, in the wake of the lockdown measures, I found myself stumbling upon a host of spiritual gatherings online. During this awkward period of adjustment, I and countless others of every religious persuasion were excited to discover new avenues for meaningful fellowship. Like Theodore Twombly, I began forging relationships and engaging in deep conversations through a digital platform. Just as he found solace and understanding in Samantha, I’ve felt a sense of companionship and support through my interactions on Zoom.
Like science fiction, online spiritual gatherings are an example of how imaginative engagement with technology can support inquiry into the nature of the self. These groups have leveraged technology in order to come together around a shared concern with the deepest questions about existence. Questions which for me are fundamentally theological.
Like an imaginative extension of a sci-fi narrative, my own community has put technology to use as a tool for journeying into the unknown. Twice a month a group of fellow seekers and I gather to explore our human purpose within the context of religious fellowship. Not unlike characters in an AI drama, we grapple with fundamental questions about our place in the universe and the nature of our humanity. Much like how sci-fi explores the human condition through imaginative scenarios, our interactions on Zoom offer a platform for contemplating ultimate questions, albeit in the intimate setting of communal worship and reflection.
But here we travel beyond the futurescapes the creative minds behind science fiction conjure. My online gatherings transcend speculative questions to explore the very essence of our relationship to the divine. We achieve this by simply being present and receptive to one another. In the ways that we share our journeys and provide mutual support we find ourselves treading the ground from which all storytelling and scientific innovation — all creative work — arises.
As AI permeates deeper into our daily routines, the potential for technology to shape our understanding of ourselves becomes increasingly significant. It’s critical to examine the role of spiritual practices in the context of our evolving technological landscape. Just as we shape technology to suit our needs and desires, it, in turn, shapes us. This complex interplay is vividly expressed in the perspectives offered by films that grapple with the multifaceted implications of AI, showing how it can both empower and challenge us. Science fiction provides insights into our collective consciousness and today’s technology mirrors us back to ourselves when we use it for introspection.
Participating in online fellowship opened up opportunities that had eluded me in traditional church settings. Among like-minded individuals on the contemplative path, I found a community that resonated with my own interests and provided a shared language of understanding. These gatherings became an extension of my spiritual practice and provided me with a rich pool of collective wisdom from which to draw inspiration. The support and encouragement I received fueled my curiosity about theological matters, deepened my appreciation for the Christian tradition, and most importantly, created a meaningful space for experiencing the presence of Christ in fellow participants.
I would eventually experience an unexpected homecoming, different in nature from my original return to Christianity which had been inspired by my discovery of the mystical tradition. As I continued to interact with others on the contemplative path, I felt drawn back to the tangible embrace of a physical parish. And so, I found myself revisiting liturgy with a newfound appreciation for the sensate aspects of worship: sacred space, rituals, sacraments, and the physical presence of fellow worshippers. I wasn’t watching the Divine Liturgy of my own Armenian Church or the Catholic Mass live-streamed, or even attending as a spectator. I was actively present and participating with my whole body.
Today I depend on both the virtual and physical dimensions of the church for my spiritual nourishment. I needed the enriching discussions I could only find virtually, and it was partially these interactions that piqued my curiosity about the dynamics of the worship experience and the mystery of sacred space. I hadn’t imagined when I began attending online gatherings that they would eventually provide the impetus to return to church and experience it anew.
Zoom church also taught us that while small groups and seminars can be effectively conducted virtually, the essence of the church as the body of Christ necessitates physical proximity for communal worship and authentic participation in sacred rituals. Being together in person embodies the concept of the church as a collective entity, and physical gathering guards against the pitfalls of individualizing religion excessively. The enduring practices of tradition provide us grounding and connect us to something larger than ourselves. I’ve found that a balanced approach to technology that integrates both digital and physical church experiences can actually safeguard the integrity of communal worship and church tradition.
Technology has compelled us to reevaluate the nature of church. By providing some distance and interrupting our previous religious habits, it’s prompted questions about worship and the meaning of togetherness. For me, church is a unified experience that encompasses both digital and physical realms. Technology, applied imaginatively, offers the opportunity to expand the church’s presence. Perhaps a technologically expanded church may inspire others in faith with fresh eyes and new hearts. For me, it helped bring me back to my local parish.
