I’ve heard the phrase Artificial Intelligence all of my boomer life. Grok says the phrase goes back to 1955 and a proposal some scientists put together to study the concept. This lead to the “Dartmouth Summer Research Project on Artificial Intelligence” in 1956 which is regarded as the founding of AI as a formal field of study. I was eight years old when 2001: A Space Odyssey came out, and although the phrase Artificial Intelligence isn’t used in the movie (“machine intelligence” is), AI was by then culturally well known. It hasn’t been until the last several years, however, that the real life implications of AI have become culturally ubiquitous. Along with that have come debates about its value, whether it promises unproblematic endless benefits, or dystopian dangers. And likely plenty of both. I just learned about the history of AI with a simple question to Grok—benefit!
But as sinful human beings are won’t to do, hubris and overreaching is part of the deal. I think that’s where we are. And whenever there is overreaching, as any physicist can tell you, there is always an equal and opposite reaction. The Covid debacle and peak woke are perfect examples. Hundreds of millions of people around the world were driven to question, many for the first time, the “experts” and the managerial class, including in modern medicine. Like me, they decided, also for the first time, that their health is primarily their responsibility and nobody else’s. And tens of millions of people in America decided peak woke was a bridge too far, and turned back to God and traditional morality. I see the same reaction regarding AI, and God is part of that too. When God in his sovereign providence provides the cultural and historical conditions for revelation, we ought to consider taking advantage of it.
I grew up in the era of vinyl records. In the mid-60s big four and then eight track cassette tapes became popular so you could actually listen to your music of choice in the car. Then by the mid-70s little cassette tapes came along, which was mind blowing at the time. Then in the 80s came CDs, and it wasn’t long before vinyl would be dead and gone forever. Uh, maybe not. Everyone said digital was the future, and analogue was passé. Get rid of your records, boomer! Get with the times. It seems, however, analogue waves are more appealing than digits. There are other reactions against all things digital. It’s impossible today to know with any kind of certainty if a picture or video or music is real or AI fake. It’s like living in a world with plastic flowers that look real but have no smell and don’t feel like flowers. How about cars without drivers? For many of us there is something unnerving about that, even as flawed as human drivers can be.
The AI hype seems to have struck a nerve in people who are pining for The Real, the creational order, objective reality as God designed it to be. We can see this in other reactions to what most agree by now is a dying secular culture.
Secularism and the Turn to the Subjective
AI offers us a stark contrast to what I like to call, The Real. This explosion of AI is happening at the same time secularism as an experiment in Western culture is coming to the end of its cultural credibility. The idea of secularism started to develop in the 17th century in response to the wars of religion. Christians killing each other because they disagreed about theology wasn’t real appealing, so Western cultural elites and intellectuals decided to push religion, i.e., Christianity, out of the cultural spotlight, and try to build societies without God. Religious practice became a personal thing, and Pietists went right along with that. It took several hundred years for this to fully infect Western culture, but by the middle of the 20th century, secularism became the default worldview of Western peoples, in effect, the entire world outside of Islam.
Secularism did what C.S. Lewis warned about in The Abolition of Man, turning him inward and making everything in life about the subjective, our feelings, our thoughts, our opinions. Life’s all about me! He famously uses the story of a high school textbook teaching students how the beauty of a waterfall is more about our feelings than about any objective beauty in the waterfall. On the surface this doesn’t appear to be a big deal, but in fact it was the beginning of abolishing human beings as God created them. This is where we find ourselves in this third decade of the 21st century. We got to a point where everything in the culture focused on the individual, “the sovereign self.” The deeper one goes into that self, the deeper one realizes there is nothing there on which to anchor life. That has to come outside of us, something really there, something we can depend on as real.
The indications of the cracks growing in the secular Berlin Wall can be seen in a variety of consequences, but a blatant one is the mental health crisis in our country. I recently received a publication from my Alma Mater, Westminster Seminary Philadelphia, about exactly this. The author starts with statistics from the National Institute of Mental health to make the point:
Over 20% of the population 18 years and older is being treated for a mental illness. For adolescents, 49.5% report having a mental disorder. According to the CDC in 2023, 12.8 million adults seriously thought about suicide; 2.7 million made an actual plan; and 1.7 million went through with it. Depression rates, according to the latest Gallup poll, are at a record high.
Once we reject or ignore God’s created order, and its Creator, we are preparing for disaster. This inevitable descent into the subjective because of secularism was always eventually going to turn out this way. In the book Lewis tells us why objective reality, the real as God created it, is so important:
It is the doctrine of objective value, the belief that certain attitudes are really true, and others really false, to the kind of thing the universe is and the kind of things we are.
The mental health crisis is a result of people being deluded into seeing themselves as something they are not, embracing lies about who they are and what the world is. The delusions are why disaster is inevitable, a form of God’s judgment on rebellious humanity.
The title of the first chapter in which this quote is found is called, “Men Without Chests.” In the classical understanding of man, he is three-fold: the mind, the upper, and the appetites, the lower, and in between is the chest where magnanimity and sentiments are trained so they might become “the indispensable liaison officers between the cerebral man and the visceral man.” Without that training, to put it crudely, we’re screwed.
The Craving for the Real
I’m convinced, in general, people crave what is Real more than what they feel. This is because they are created in God’s image and live in God’s creation; postmodern relativism will always eventually disappoint. We can’t make up our own reality no matter how hard we try. By definition, postmodern relativists have a tenuous grasp of reality because they think they get to determine what reality is. Their take is a slippery one, like living their lives walking on rocks through a shallow rushing river. Why would that be? If our epistemology—what we know and how we come to know it—is based on what is inside of us, then how can we ever really trust what we think we know? Maybe what I’m thinking about at the moment is just a bit of indigestion, as C.S Lewis once said. Or maybe the conclusion I’ve come to about such and such is only some Freudian trauma I’ve experienced with my mother or father.
Postmodernism requires us to believe there is no there, there, and what might be there only has relevance because of my thoughts about it. It’s really always a guessing game. Postmodernists may say, “That’s true for you, but not for me,” and believe it, but they really have no idea, and deep down they know it. Such a shaky hold on existence is the logical conclusion of the triumph of the subjective. By contrast, The Real is truth, not just an abstract philosophical concept, but things as they actually are.
If there is a God, then he made reality a certain way. Sure, sometimes because of our sinful, rebellious hearts we want to do it our way, but the hope is that it doesn’t take too long for us to realize our ignorance or stupidity. We are all born ignorant and stupid; it’s called sin.
The Real can also be seen in the creational order, the way God created it to be. If we follow that order, life gets easier. For example, we might deny the objective reality of absolute moral values, but our denial doesn’t mean they don’t exist, or that we get to determine those values. I’ve heard it said that we can no more break God’s physical laws than we can break his moral laws without consequences. Both are part of the very fabric of existence. Postmodern relativists, however, affirm physical laws but believe they can define moral laws. Reality doesn’t work that way. Take sexual morality, for instance. There is a reason God established monogamy between one man and one woman as the moral norm for sexual relationships. Flout it, have sex with whomever you want whenever you want, and you could die. Embrace it, and no sexually transmitted disease will ever touch you. As I often say, “That’s the way the world works.” You do it God’s way, in other words, and chances are things will work out well. If you do it your own way, good luck. I love what Isaiah tells us in this regard:
He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure (33:6).
It is this solid foundation that as we come to the end of this secular age that is becoming increasingly appealing to an increasing number of people.
How Ancient Greeks Help Us to Understand the Real
Ancient Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle can be of some assistance when we discuss The Real. They believed in and argued for the existence of objective goodness, beauty, and truth—something countercultural in an age awash in the vagaries of postmodern relativism, yet what every human being believes exist and longs for.
What humans experience of goodness, beauty, and truth, Plato argued, points to the universal or the ultimate form of these things; they exist in life because they exist ultimately. Aristotle, a student of Plato, took his mentor’s thoughts in a more empirical direction: the real for him lay in the thingness of the thing itself, and not in some universal idea of it. Thus, there is a certain dogness in dogs; dogs have the nature of dogness. Roses have a roseness, and so on. This is not as silly as it sounds, and it is perfectly biblical. In Genesis 1 God created everything “according to their kinds.” Things are the way they are for a reason; we can’t wish them to be other than they are, as many Western cultural elites are trying to do with the current debate over gender. Is gender a malleable concept, based on what we feel or think, or is it rooted in the order of creation, “male and female he created them”? The answer is obvious.
It will make more sense if you consider Aristotle’s concept of Telos, or purpose, the ultimate object of a thing. All things in created reality have a reason for being, whether created by humans or God. Their purpose or end defines them. Tim Keller says, “Unless you know the telos of something, what it is for, you can’t make right judgments about whether the thing is good or bad.” It is readily apparent that a hammer has a different telos, or purpose, than a nail. It would be odd to see someone trying to “hammer” a hammer with a nail: Seriously, dude, I think you have that backward.
Everything of human origin has an obvious purpose, and when it comes to creation, the concept is every bit as relevant. I have a simple example that took place in a discussion I had with a friend about something called same‑sex marriage (which assumes sex, male‑female, has nothing to do with why marriage exists). He thought Christians were being unreasonable and judgmental to deny homosexuals the opportunity to marry and be happy; he was adamant the Bible didn’t forbid it. Every biblical argument I tried to make hit a brick wall. Then I brought up the idea of telos. I told him it is evident that the human anatomy, male and female, clearly has a telos. Without getting graphic, it’s clear to any objective observer that certain body parts have an obvious designed end, a purpose for which they were created, and homosexuality doesn’t fulfill those purposes. It’s like trying to “hammer” the hammer with a nail. He got a strange look on his face, stopped, and said, “I’ve never thought of that.” The Bible didn’t open his mind, but telos did.
I’ll end this little foray into the ancient Greeks with a short excursion into nominalism and realism. The Associate Pastor at our church, Rev. John Ravell, is philosophically well read, and young (only 34), and in an e-mail exchange about something related to the ideas in this post, he said modern people are “basically hyper-nominal” as opposed to being grounded in philosophical realism which goes back to the ancient Greeks and Medieval philosophy. I love that phrase. Nominalism as a philosophy was developed by William of Ockham (1287-1347) in a debate with those who espoused realism. A simple overview of nominalism comes from Chat GPT:
Only individual things really exist; general categories or abstract properties are just names we give them. For example:
- You see many red objects: an apple, a stop sign, a shirt.
- A realist philosopher might say there is a real universal property called “redness” that all these things share.
- A nominalist says there is no separate thing called “redness” existing independently — we simply group similar objects under the label “red.”
The word comes from the Latin nomen, meaning “name.”
This was a huge shift in Western Christian culture. Richard Weaver in his wonderful book, Ideas Have Consequences, said this was a profound “change which came over man’s conception of reality.” Indeed it was. Instead of being grounded in an objective reality of things that exist independent of our perceptions of them, we’re awash in a world of meaningless particulars, puzzle pieces with no puzzle or bigger picture into which they fit. As my young pastor friend put it, “We don’t believe in realism anymore. We have a hard time even articulating what it would look like to believe in realism, but it’s exactly in line with a biblical worldview and imagination.” He added, this leads modern people who “attempt to say something about the whole always fixating on the parts, which leads invariably to paralysis.” As Weaver puts it perfectly in the book,
The issue ultimately involved is whether there is a source of truth higher than and independent of man; and the answer to the question is decisive for one’s view of the nature and destiny of humankind. . . . The denial of universals carries with it the denial of everything transcending experience. . . . which means inevitably—though ways are found to hedge on this—the denial of truth. With the denial of objective truth there is no escape from the relativism of “man the measure of all things.”
This was written 78 years ago in 1948. Weaver couldn’t imagine, although he wouldn’t be surprised, the depths of absurdity people have gotten to by living in figments of their own imagination. It is exactly such absurdity that is opening an increasing number of people to The Real, and leading them back to the Creator, for from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.
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