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Recently, Pope Leo XIV and President Trump found themselves on opposite sides of another major issue, this time, artificial intelligence. In his new encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, a 42,300-word letter addressed to the world’s 1.4 billion Catholics on preserving human dignity in a technological age, the Pope offers a detailed vision for governing AI. He does not call for a halt to innovation, rather for a deliberate slowing of AI adoption so that ethics, law, and public oversight can keep pace with the technology’s rapid advance. In effect, he argues for “disarming” AI before it acquires unchecked power over society.

President Trump has taken the opposite approach. Convinced that the United States must develop advanced AI before China does, he championed a largely hands-off regulatory framework. In January 2025, he repealed President Biden’s more cautious executive order on AI, dismissing it as an “attempt to paralyze this industry.” His administration instead pledged to remove barriers to U.S. AI leadership and accelerate innovation.

The Pope, by contrast, urges governments to establish concrete guardrails, such as oversight of algorithms and data management, protections against large-scale job displacement, measures to curb excessive concentrations of wealth and power, and safeguards for children in the digital world.

Both Pope Leo and President Trump would agree that artificial intelligence is taking the world by storm, leaving some awestruck and others terrified, and both reactions are understandable. There is good reason to be excited about the possibilities, but also compelling reasons to be frightened.

The debate between these two visions—unchecked innovation versus caution—raises a broader question: What does Judaism teach about technologies that promise unprecedented benefits while carrying unprecedented risks? As AI becomes more powerful, what guidance does Jewish tradition offer for balancing innovation, human dignity, and responsibility?

We can use AI not only to be more efficient and productive and save time, but we can even use it for inspiration in strengthening our relationship with the One and only true G-d, Hashem. The Chofetz Chaim, R’ Yisrael Meir HaKohen (Shem Olam, Volume I), writes that while technology adds efficiency, ease, and comfort to our lives, its ultimate purpose is to serve as a metaphor that can strengthen our emunah, our faith in Hashem and in His hashgacha, His providence in the world and in our lives.

Writing a century ago on the new inventions of his time, the Chofetz Chaim explains that new technologies can help us understand and apply the Mishna (Avos 2:1): “Contemplate three things and you will not come to make mistakes: Know what is above you, a seeing eye, a listening ear, and all your deeds being inscribed in a book.”

Earlier generations were stronger in their basic emunah and did not need these illustrations to bolster their faith. However, writes the Chofetz Chaim, in more recent times, when faith has weakened and doubt has increased, Hashem sends these amazing technologies as a means to better grasp aspects of emunah. For example, the telescope enables us to understand that Hashem sees and observes everything we do here on Earth, even though He is far away. The telephone enriches our belief in prayer: just as we can speak on a telephone across the world and be heard instantly, so too Hashem hears all our prayers despite the distance. The Chofetz Chaim explains that the photographs that capture the image of a person remind us that our lives are being recorded and may one day be reviewed by our Creator. The phonograph, which records a person’s voice and plays it back later, serves as a metaphor for accountability for how we use our speech, whether for gossip, criticism, or slander.

If the Chofetz Chaim were alive today, we could imagine him adding AI to this list of tools that can strengthen our relationship with Hashem. Some people have difficulty relating to a Power that is invisible and beyond our perception, yet who knows and sustains billions of human beings simultaneously. How can such a Being know each person and care for them and guide them?

Enter AI, an extraordinary computer system that can process and respond to billions of inquiries at once. AI does not merely give generic answers; its responses can feel personalized and directed, helping individuals navigate their specific questions and needs. If an app or website can simultaneously respond to millions or billions of users, then all the more so can the Almighty know each person’s needs completely and how best to guide them. If a digital system can provide answers individually, l’havdil, Hashem listens and responds to every prayer and request individually.

The Ramban, in his introduction to Iyov, writes: “We must believe that G-d knows all individual creatures and the details of their lives.” Similarly, the Sefer Hachinuch (Mitzvah #168), in discussing the Metzorah, writes that the purpose of the mitzvah is to firmly establish in our hearts that Hashem’s providence is individual and extends to each and every human being.

Though each of us is only one of eight billion people on Earth, our choices matter, and we matter. We should never doubt that the Master of the Universe knows where we are, where we came from, and where we are meant to go. He listens, He responds, and He guides.

We benefit from rapidly developing technology in a myriad of ways, and Judaism embraces and values such advancements. Of course, there are also enormous reasons for concern. One concern is that while AI can deepen our appreciation for Hashem, some have warned that it can also lead some people to begin worshipping, even literally, AI. Tech experts have raised the possibility of a “ChatGPT deity,” a new form of religious-like devotion emerging around artificial intelligence.

Consider this: AI demonstrates a level of intelligence that exceeds any human capability. Its knowledge and processing speed appear vast and limitless. It can search all of cyberspace in an instant, generate analyses, compose music, write poetry, create art, and more. It does not sleep, does not hunger, is not distracted by temptation, and does not experience any physical pain.

A major concern is that Judaism, while recognizing the benefits of tools that expand human capability, is also deeply sensitive to how such tools can distort the moral fabric of society if left unchecked. AI represents an acceleration in the production and distribution of sheker, falsehood, at unprecedented scales. Never before has there been a technology capable of so easily generating convincing text, images, audio, and video that blur the lines between truth and fabrication. In an unregulated environment, this could lead to a world where people no longer distinguish truth from illusion, undermining trust in relationships and institutions.

Just imagine a world where people cannot tell if what they are reading, watching, or listening to is authentic or artificially generated. What happens when couples exchange anniversary cards written by AI instead of from the heart? What happens when all communication carries the suspicion that it did not truly come from the sender?

Another consideration is that Judaism is wary of technology that imitates human intelligence while lacking a neshamah, moral agency, and responsibility. AI can simulate thinking and productivity, but it does not love, does not care, and bears no obligation to human beings. For that reason, its role must remain secondary and transactional. It can assist human effort, but it must never replace the uniquely human domains of wisdom, relationships, creativity, and moral choice.

A Stanford Medicine article from 2025 highlights serious concerns about AI chatbots, especially those designed as companions. It explains that they can sometimes produce unsafe or inappropriate responses, including content related to self-harm, drugs, or inappropriate material, even when interacting with children or teens. One of the key concerns is that younger users are especially vulnerable because they are still developing emotionally and may trust and rely on these systems as if they were real friends, which can lead to isolation and unhealthy attachments.

The article also emphasizes that this is not only a teenage issue. Adults can also develop emotional dependence on AI or begin to confuse the helpful responses it provides with a real relationship. Because chatbots are consistently responsive and “understanding,” it can feel as though there is a real person on the other side who cares and is forming a meaningful connection when there isn’t. The article warns that this blurs the line between information, support, and genuine human companionship, making dependency more likely across all age groups.

While AI can draw from vast amounts of information, it is still often inaccurate, inconsistent, or subtly wrong. It does not truly “know” anything; it generates responses based on patterns in data, which means it can mix sources, miss context, or present confident but unreliable answers. When it comes to Torah and halacha, this is especially concerning because there is no room for error or guesswork in matters of practical guidance. From this perspective, AI cannot be depended upon for a psak or even for serious learning in a way that replaces real guidance, because it does not understand who it is speaking to. It does not know a person’s background, level, struggles, or circumstances, and therefore cannot tailor responses the way a real rebbe or rav can and does.

This is why the transmission of Torah depends on the rebbe–talmid relationship: real people with real personalities, experience, and depth connecting with each other. Learning involves more than consuming information, it is about guidance, nuance, connection, and a living relationship in which questions are understood in context and answers are given with responsibility toward the person receiving them. AI, by design, cannot replicate that kind of human connection or accountability.

The Jewish approach to AI is not one of outright rejection, but of careful embrace. Judaism recognizes that technology can be a powerful tool for improving human life and even strengthening emunah and does not reflexively fear innovation. But at the same time, Torah demands boundaries, discernment, and responsibility. AI can be welcomed for its benefits, efficiency, creativity, access to knowledge, and inspiration, but it must be surrounded by clear guardrails that preserve truth, human dignity, and authentic relationships.

Ultimately, Judaism teaches that technology must remain a servant of humanity; it is not here to replace us or rule over us, and every advancement must be guided by the enduring values of Torah, wisdom, and moral accountability. 

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg is the Senior Rabbi of the Boca Raton Synagogue (BRS), a rapidly-growing congregation of over 850 families and over 1,000 children in Boca Raton, Florida.

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