Reflections

Artificial intelligence (AI) is transforming the world of work on several fronts simultaneously. It alters the conditions of those who work to make it possible, often in invisible and precarious jobs; it changes hiring, organizational, and career advancement processes, where automated decisions can reproduce historical inequalities under the guise of neutrality; it heralds a new labor paradigm in which part of the economic value may grow without a proportional increase in human labor; and it transforms the way we educate professionals who will have to coexist with it, altering both teaching methods and the competencies required of graduates.

The inseparable link between those minerals and artificial intelligence haunts my daily life here. I do not approach this link through the archive, but through the ground I was born and raised on. To tell this history is not to complain about a stranger who wrecked our region; it is to take responsibility for what is happening in my country. And so, reading Pope Leo's new encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas (MH), I begin with the question that has long followed me: When will the majority of Congolese finally benefit from their own immense natural wealth, rather than paying for it with their suffering, and, too often, their lives?

The Industrial Revolution asked whether economic progress could be reconciled with workers' dignity. It also challenged the assumption that economic progress is inherently good. Can greater productivity alone be called progress if it comes at the expense of human dignity, social cohesion, or the natural world? More than a century later, artificial intelligence poses a different but equally profound challenge. Machines are no longer transforming only how we produce goods; they are beginning to transform how we think, decide, create, and even relate to one another. The question before us is therefore not merely technological. It is anthropological.

Artificial intelligence is often presented as an immaterial technology, yet it rests on a very concrete infrastructure: devices, data centers, and networks whose manufacture requires minerals such as tin, gold, cobalt, lithium, and copper. For this reason, reading AI from the perspective of socio-environmental justice means looking toward the territories where its supply chains begin: communities marked by conflict, precarious economies, ecological damage, and violations of human rights.

Magnifica Humanitas offers us — especially those of us who work in education from a tradition of faith and commitment to justice — a profoundly enriching challenge. It calls us to govern AI with wisdom: to build the structures that protect the dignity of the most vulnerable; to form persons capable of thought and decision; and to ensure that the organization of our own institutions is coherent with what we teach.

In Europe today, a refugee is identified first by a biometric system, before the perilous journey they endured to flee danger is heard. At the United States border, an asylum seeker may be told to seek protection through a phone application before a human being listens to how their rights were violated by violence and persecution that brought them there.

Whom does facial recognition recognize? Who gets recommended for a job by an AI hiring algorithm? How does bias shade the output of an image-generation model? Whose choices are reflected in all of the multifaceted decision-making that is part of generating and deploying AI models?

Honduras is a very vulnerable country. Honduran men and women suffer the impact of this vulnerability on a daily basis. Socio-economically, my country is one of the most unequal in the world. Politically, it is burdened by the burdens of the 2009 coup d'état, such as institutional fragility, corruption, drug trafficking, impunity and the illegitimate re-election of the previous government.