The Artifice of Intelligence

In The Artifice of Intelligence: Divine and Human Relationship in a Robotic Age, Noreen Herzfeld offers an accessible, concise, and thought-provoking exploration of divine and human relationships in light of developments in artificial intelligence (AI) technology. The book opens by narrating its own origins and names its intended audience: pastors ministering in an increasingly technological world (vii). In a digital and robotic age, it is difficult to discern where humanity stands in relation to AI. To this point, Herzfeld does a marvellous job of explaining what technologies exist and how they fall short of the science fiction version of Artificial General Intelligence. Her book is timely, puts the relevant theological concepts on the table, and provides an incredibly useful frame for evaluating relationality in this robotic age.

The guiding question of the book concerns relationship, drawing on Karl Barth’s relational theology from Church Dogmatics III/2, the Doctrine of Creation (T&T Clark, 1958). Following Barth, the book asks: what constitutes authentic and fulfilling relationality? Can one have an authentic relationship with a machine? And what does this machine age do to human-human relationality? The book unfolds in seven chapters that dig into Barth’s four criteria for authentic relationality, bringing in the latest contemporary scholarship on technology and AI. Herzfeld ultimately argues that artificial intelligence and robotic simulations of life cannot constitute authentic and fulfilling relationships.

As mentioned above, one of the greatest strengths of the book is clearing away the bramble of conjecture in AI discourse. Herzfeld’s stories of the failures of the technology powering AI machines are often memorable and humorous. Laughing at an AI that can only locate tanks on cloudy days or a program that would only differentiate between dogs and wolves if there was snow disarms and deflates the hype built on technophilic futurism. And yet, Herzfeld’s work is not only one of highlighting technological shortfalls. The failures are balanced with sobering accounts of how AI is deployed worldwide to control and dominate populations using facial recognition software and autonomous weapon systems. In addition to clarifying what tech is and is not in existence or development, this book offers a helpful theological and ethical analytical frame. The Barthian approach allows entry into the questions of relationality between humans, divine, and technology with theological rigor. It is, however, that Barthian frame that is perhaps the book’s biggest limitation.

It is tempting to lean into critiques of Barth’s theological frame as a critique of the book. Barth’s first condition for authentic relationship is to look the other in the eye. Disability theologians have pointed out the severe limitations of arguing that human relationship hinges on physical sight. In a similar vein, ecotheologians have critiqued the anthropocentrism in Barth’s theology. Barth’s cosmology holds humans so highly within creation that he has been accused of disregarding non-human creation. If non-human creation takes a backseat to Barth’s theological anthropology throughout his work, it is then little surprise that this book comes out stating that non-human artificial intelligence and robots are at risk of disrupting authentic and fulfilling relationality.

But do those contours of Barth’s theology impact the success of the book according to its own stated goals? In short, no. The book sets out to say something about technology, not about the debates and battles within Barthian and post-Barthian discourse. And the book succeeds in saying something critical and important about technology, humans, and the divine. Herzfeld opens up important questions and lays a fertile ground for further discussions exploring these topics alongside other conversation partners.

There are times when the details matter and times when they do not. Mistaking Dallas for Houston as the first city in the United States targeted for opening a robot brothel does nothing to the overall argument and integrity of the book (2). What does matter, in my opinion, are the biases baked into academic and journalist coverage of technology and AI around the globe. In a section on data commodification and surveillance capitalism, Herzfeld asserts that “China assigns citizens a ‘social credit’ score” (57). This is only partly true, and while the plan unveiled in 2014 originally listed 2020 as the target date for a nationwide roll-out, what is currently in effect is a loose network of provincial and municipal policies. There is no such thing as a singular Chinese social credit policy at this time.

This may seem like a quibble over a tiny section of a great book, but the paragraph ends with the ominous sentence, “Imagine what Amazon or the government of China could do with a direct line to our thoughts” (58). While China does not have the greatest human rights record, this positioning of China as a dangerous political enemy stands in stark contrast to the well-researched and nuanced descriptions of the technological industry in the rest of the book. Again, does this impact the overall integrity and argument of the book? No. But do these political perspectives matter? I think they do. And when that is taken into account and acknowledged, the book offers itself as something distinctly human: a work written with temporal, geographic, and ideological particularities.

The book works wonderfully as a starting place for a vital conversation in the church. It is an engaging read, opens up important theological concepts, and brings much-needed clarity to the shape of what is — and just as importantly what isn’t — going on in the western world of digitalization, robotics, and artificial intelligence.

Michael J. Toy is a PhD candidate in religious studies at Te Herenga Waka – Victoria University of Wellington.

Michael J. Toy

Date Of Review:

April 15, 2024