What If AI Devastates the World?

I don’t know about you, but I find it rather disconcerting that all these AI engineers keep quitting their jobs because they don’t want to take responsibility for the devastation of the world as we know it.

Here I was, just worried about how AI will prevent a generation from critical thinking, or eliminate lots of jobs, or delude people into fake relationships, when I guess I should have been more concerned about total annihilation. 

Part of me scoffs, rolls my eyes, and remembers Y2K, which resulted in a whole lot of nothing (it was kind of a letdown, actually), but another part feels my heart beat faster and wonders, “what if?” 

I mean, we are so incredibly dependent on machines and invisible servers and clouds for almost every aspect of life that it doesn’t seem inconceivable that an enemy government or a rogue AI agent will figure out how to hack its way into the systems that run our society–electricity, communication, defense, food production, health care–and all hell, quite literally, could break loose. 

Maybe I’ve just watched too many apocalyptic movies. But these AI engineers aren’t conspiracy theorists. They seem to know what they are talking about.

So what if? What if we wake up one day without phones, internet, electricity, running water, bank accounts, jobs, and life as we know it is never the same again? 

I suppose a better question is rather, “Why not?” All we have to do is look at history to remember that five million people starved under Stalin and another thirty million under Mao Zedong. Nazi Germany murdered six million people, the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia executed two million, and the Rwandan government orchestrated its own citizens to slaughter 800,000 of their neighbors in just one hundred days. 

And that’s just in the last century or so. I’m not sure why we’d be more afraid of machines when humans are already experts at destruction and extermination.

But there’s certainly no pretending that our neat and tidy middle-class neighborhoods, where the worst that happens is some kid’s bike gets stolen, are immune to global catastrophe. Our notion of safety and security is, in fact, an illusion. 

It doesn’t do us any good to tamp down our panic by assuring ourselves that most dire predictions never happen. The world actually is a terribly frightening place, and those of us who have lived our lives in relative peace and safety are a small minority. 

The worst could happen. It really could. Sometimes we think, “God would never allow that to happen to America.” Really? Why not? Because we’re the richest and strongest? Since when has God been about the business of preserving the rich and the strong? Kind of feels like the opposite a lot of the time. Tower of Babel, anyone? 

So what then? I suppose we could run to the hills, live off the grid, raise chickens, amass an arsenal, and try to become invisible and/or invincible to the apocalypse happening everywhere else. I suppose if survival were the primary priority, that would be the logical plan.

But if we follow Jesus, I wonder whether this kind of dire prediction calls for a different kind of preparation. 

I’ve spent the last couple of days ruminating: What if I really were stripped of everything in my life that was comfortable and safe? What if instability ruled the streets and death crept around every corner?

Would I share generously, galvanize my community to interdependence, steadfastly trust God to provide for my needs, and continue Christ’s mission to make disciples? Or would I turn into a panicking, hoarding, aggressive monster? 

I don’t know, actually. It’s a sobering thought. 

And that’s where I find the place where I need to prepare myself. If I want to be ready for a predicted doom, preparing my heart is far more important than stockpiling seeds. 

Do I truly believe Jesus when he said, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid?

Am I willing to say with Paul, To live is Christ, to die is gain? 

Am I convinced that neither tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword can separate me from the love of Christ? 

Fear reveals my heart to me. It shows me what I idolize, who I trust, and where my treasure is. So whether or not these AI prophecies are just a bunch of fear-mongering or actually hold some merit, they are worth paying attention to. Or rather, paying attention to what kind of response wells up in me. 

*Photos by Gil Medina