The Heart Matters More Than the Machine

This past weekend, Pope Leo XIV stood before the College of Cardinals and named artificial intelligence one of the greatest challenges of our time. His words weren’t a condemnation of technology itself, but a call to remember what it means to be human. Back in January, the Vatican issued Antiqua et Nova, a statement urging the global community to develop and use AI in ways that uplift human dignity and preserve the heart of our relationships. The message is clear: AI should serve us, not replace us. And more importantly, it should never sever our ties to one another.

That same thread is being echoed far beyond the walls of the Vatican. In the United States, the crisis of loneliness has reached epidemic levels. According to Pew Research Center, nearly half of American adults feel lonely at least sometimes, and among young adults, that number is even higher. Pew’s findings are echoed by the U.S. Surgeon General, who declared in a recent advisory that the lack of social connection is not just a personal problem, but a national health concern. Loneliness has been linked to a higher risk of heart disease, stroke, depression, anxiety, and even premature death. It’s not just emotional, it’s also biological.

These findings hit home for me, especially when I reflect on the teenagers I work with every day. I see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. They crave connection, a real, meaningful, heart-to-heart connection. They want to talk. They want to be heard. But something’s getting in the way.

I often think back to when I was a teenager in the 1980s. We had landlines, Walkmans, and after-school hangouts. If you wanted to talk to someone, you had to call them or walk to their house. The pace was slower, but the connection felt deeper. One song from that era has stayed with me: “Mr. Roboto” by Styx. It’s a synth-heavy anthem with a catchy hook, but the fifth verse carries a warning that feels more relevant than ever:

“The problem’s plain to see / Too much technology / Machines to save our lives / Machines dehumanize.”

Back then, it felt like science fiction. Today, it feels like prophecy.

Our children are growing up in a world where they are “connected” constantly, but often not connected deeply. They can text, post, scroll, and like, but when was the last time many of them had a real, vulnerable conversation? When was the last time they were asked, face-to-face, “How are you, really?” and given the space to answer without judgment?

I don’t say this to cast blame. This isn’t about villainizing technology or suggesting that AI is inherently harmful. In fact, AI has incredible potential to help address loneliness and mental health. Chatbots and virtual therapists can provide support when no one else is available in rare moments. AI tools can detect signs of depression or anxiety in a student’s writing and alert a caring adult. For the elderly, isolated, or disabled, AI can offer some companionship and reminders that ease daily burdens. Used wisely, it can be a source for some support.   

But here’s the catch: AI cannot replace the warmth of a hug. It cannot replace the shared laughter between friends or the silent comfort of someone simply sitting beside you. It cannot teach us empathy, nor can it reflect back to us the sacredness of our humanity.

And if we’re not careful, the more we rely on machines to mediate our relationships, the more we risk forgetting how to be in relationship.

I see it in my students. Many of them have forgotten how to have a real conversation. Not because they’re lazy or self-centered, but because the opportunities for those deeper moments are increasingly rare. Their world moves fast. Notifications are constant. Performative communication such as  likes, snaps, and emojis, often takes the place of substance. But underneath it all, they’re still human. They still want to be seen and known. And I believe, with all my heart, that they are capable of reconnecting with each other and with themselves. They just need our help as adults, as educators, as compassionate human beings.

Pope Leo XIV’s warning about AI is really a reminder about love. About presence. About living out our relationships with God and others. Technology will always move forward. It should. But our moral and spiritual compass must move with it. We must ensure that our pursuit of progress doesn’t come at the cost of our shared humanity.

So this week, I invite you to slow down. To have a real conversation with a student, a colleague, a friend, or a loved one. Ask the second question. Stay a little longer. Let’s help our youngsters remember how to talk heart to heart.

Because the heart still matters more than the machine.