From the outset of Pope Leo XIV’s pontificate, speculation has swirled around his stance on artificial intelligence (AI). Though an official AI encyclical has yet to be released, the Holy Father has made several comments on the matter, with some most recently in an address to young Americans late last year. Then, he stated definitively that “AI cannot offer real wisdom. . . .It won’t stand in wonder, in authentic wonder, before the beauty of God’s creation. . . .AI can never replace the unique gift that you are to the world.”
As his comments suggest, the dangers of a pseudo-spiritual AI culture are indeed related to the demographic crisis unfolding across the West. A generation that cannot marvel at Creation, without “wonder” and “wisdom,” will struggle to welcome new life into it. The younger generation no longer dreams of children, and the consequences are profound. Advancing demographic decline is becoming a serious issue: fertility rates are well below replacement level, populations are aging, and the cracks created by the strained population are starting to show.
Right now, Europe already has an average total fertility rate (TFR) of about 1.4 children per woman, significantly below the replacement rate of 2.1 necessary for population maintenance. Within the European Union in 2023, the TFR stood at about 1.38 live births per woman, and more than a third of EU countries had rates at or below 1.3.
The lingering spiritual emptiness, particularly in the U.S. and Europe, is beset by an air of all-around disenchantment, devoid of a sense of mystery and transcendence. Our ongoing cultural crisis has already produced negative demographic effects and will continue to do so without a recovery of the spirit of self-sacrifice and service that the pope referred to in his address.
Many are quick to relegate the demographic crisis to a problem of economics. But the desire to bear children originates from much more than whether one is financially stable or can afford to buy a house. People have been poor before, and they still welcomed large families into their lives. My generation grew up alongside technology, in an age obsessed with optimization. Now, we’re beginning to engage with AI. Our sense of wonder has been definitively dulled. How can anyone expect us to bring new life into the world when we are spiritually unwilling to replenish it?
To the ears of an average secular Gen Z man, having a wife and family is like telling them to take on an all-consuming burden that will only worsen their place in the materialistic, finite universe. If we think our birth is an accident rather than a gift from God, how can we possibly think of children as more than an obligation?
Since most of us can remember, our world has been mediated through algorithmic feeds, quantified through metrics, and now tailored by AI. The radical leap of faith required to welcome new life – another human being, a child – is, indeed, unimaginable. If we cannot imagine a world other than the one we already occupy, why imagine children – a choice that inherently admits unpredictability?
As the Church has often stated, technology can make life better and safer. But of course, it cannot replace the innate desire in our hearts for meaning beyond consumption or convenience. With that angle in mind, our present demographic decline is almost inevitable. How do we expect to avoid extinction as a people if we do not value life, do not conceive of parenthood as a vocation, and do not ground our policymaking and culture in the pro-life ethic? If the West truly wants to flourish – not merely survive, but flourish – then the answer cannot be more gadgets, more subsidies, more tax credits.
What’s needed is a renewal of vision, beginning with recovering a sense of the sacred in human life, where we open our hearts to mystery, to the transcendent, to miracles. Art, music, nature, prayer, and community are important conduits of culture, and have the power to convey the ancient wisdom that children are gifts and expressions of hope.
Second, it requires a cultural shift from individualism to generativity. We must reorient from the typical secular calculus of “what do I want for myself” to the deeper question, “what will my generation leave behind?” Family and children are the crown of Creation and the roots of community; we should treat them as such. The Church’s teaching, that our lives are for God and that our worldly impact is secondary, is vital here.
Third, we must ground policy in correct Christian anthropology: preserving life from conception until natural death. Policies that disregard the sanctity of life are misguided in a secular context, too, if they lead to our extinction. This is one of the errors of the sexual revolution, which has lied to women that their happiness is ultimately to be found in their career, and has led to the framing of marriage as an oppressive institution.
Fourth, an intentional spiritual renewal must be reflected in public policy and social institutions. As Pope Leo XIV has reminded us recently, a real pro-life stance entails much more than opposing abortion. It’s also worth working towards a cultural default that celebrates life in all its stages, supports families financially, and broadcasts that families are good. All this sends a needed signal to young people that their society celebrates children and wants to be accommodating to them.
Equipping the childbearing generations to act with both imagination and courage will take strategy and thoughtfulness. Simply telling Gen Z “you should have children” will not work. We have to show them why they should have children. And parents already unapologetically championing their decision to have children give better testimony than any speech could.
They show that being open to life and having a family is the greatest adventure of hope in a world fraught with negativity. Our demographic decline is a symptom of the spiritual emptiness in our world; the lack of imagination in young people is its manifestation. And children are the cure.
