In the May 27th New Yorker article entitled “Two Paths for A.I.”, Joshua Rothman presents what I thought was a helpful portrait of our cultural moment—one torn between apocalyptic urgency and pragmatic restraint in the face of artificial intelligence. On one side, there’s Daniel Kokotajlo, the safety researcher turned whistleblower, who warns of a near-future in which A.I. could become superintelligent, uncontrollable, and existentially dangerous. On the other, computer scientists Sayash Kapoor and Arvind Narayanan offer a sobering counter-narrative: A.I. is impressive, but constrained by the real-world slowness of human systems.
Both camps are full of brilliant thinkers who hold deep convictions. And both, in their own way, capture needed parts of the way forward..
The article’s author frames the central dilemma this way:
“Which is it: business as usual or the end of the world? ‘The test of a first-rate intelligence,’ F. Scott Fitzgerald famously claimed, ‘is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.’”
That quote struck me. Because while the tension is intellectually and emotionally exhausting, it is precisely the space where a hopeful intelligence, one shaped by the reality of God, must take root.
The Need for a Third Path
The Christian imagination has long held paradox at its center. As per my last post, Scripture teaches that we are both dust and glory, finite, fragile creatures made from the earth, and yet stamped with the image of God and filled with divine breath. We are fallen and redeemed. Broken and beloved. God calls us to hold together realities that appear irreconcilable and to live faithfully within their tension. Similarly, this is where the vision of hopeful intelligence offers a third way. A God infused reality of our world gives us another way forward.
Where Kokotajlo’s fear sees catastrophe, and Kapoor and Narayanan’s realism sees containment, a theology of providence sees something deeper: that even in a moment of technological uncertainty, God’s sovereign purposes are not unraveling. That human agency still matters. And that our calling as image-bearers—to love, to steward, to build, to restrain—remains unchanged.
Christian hope does not mean naïve optimism or blind faith in innovation. It is not an escape from fear but a courage within it. It is a hope shaped by the cross—a place where the worst of human sin and the fullness of divine mercy meet in the same moment.
This theological tension gives us the spiritual muscle to hold both extremes in view: the breathtaking potential of A.I. and its terrifying risks. We don’t have to pick a side. We are called to inhabit the in-between, with wisdom, humility, and moral imagination.
Vice-Regents and Stewards
Ultimately, this debate about A.I. isn’t just about intelligence; it’s about agency and calling. As the article notes, the deeper question is not just what machines can do, but what we will choose to do with them because “at the end of the day, we’ll always be in charge.”
And here, the doctrine of humanity speaks with renewed relevance:
We are not just thinkers or toolmakers. We are vice-regents, commissioned to care for and cultivate creation in God’s likeness. Our task is not merely to innovate, but to steward in God’s stead. We care called to shepherd technology toward the common good, not just market efficiency or national power.
This means embracing both courage and caution. Courage to move forward, to build systems that bless, heal, and serve. But also shrewdness to recognize our own capacity for destruction, domination, and disconnection. These aren’t just traits of technology; rather, they are reflections of the human heart.
“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” (Genesis 2:15)
Our foundational calling hasn’t changed, but it does look different now. The “garden” might now include data centers and algorithmic architectures, but the imperative remains: tend it, guard it, direct it toward flourishing.
Holding the Tension
In a world drawn toward polarities, we need followers of Christ who embody what Fitzgerald called “first-rate intelligence,” but more than that: spiritual discernment. The capacity to see complexity, hold contradiction, and still choose faithfulness.
We don’t need more hot takes. We need applied and growing theological imagination. We don’t need certainty. We need vibrant faith in God’s abiding presence that leads us to courageously steward ambiguity.
And above all, we need the reminder that while the future of A.I. may be uncertain, our identity and vocation are not. We are creatures of dust and glory, created as God’s vice-regents, called to steward this world and each other. We move into the future, not in fear or denial, but with hopeful intelligence, shaped by love.
This is the 2nd post of a 3-part series by David Kim.
Read the first: Dust and Glory: How AI Confirms the Bible’s Most Paradoxical Truth About Humanity.
Read the final: The Need for Spiritual Discernment in the Age of AI.