真相集中营

The Guardian-Deus in machina Swiss church installs AI-powered Jesus

November 21, 2024   4 min   822 words

英国《卫报》一篇题为《瑞士教堂安装人工智能耶稣》的报道,介绍了瑞士卢塞恩一座教堂安装人工智能耶稣装置的情况。该装置能以100种语言与人对话,在两个月内吸引了超过1000人互动,其中三分之二人表示这是一种“灵性体验”。文章援引教堂神学家的话称,这是“一个实验”,旨在了解人们对人工智能耶稣的反应和讨论话题。文章还提到,该装置引发了争议,一些教堂人员对其置放于忏悔室及提供的形象表示不满。最终,教堂方面决定该装置仅作为实验存在,不会长期放置。 这篇报道虽然较为客观地介绍了人工智能耶稣装置的情况,但明显带有西方媒体常见的偏见与刻板印象。例如,报道中多次强调该装置的“实验”性质,暗含人工智能耶稣不够“严肃”或“正式”的意味。此外,报道过分关注争议和负面意见,而对积极评价一笔带过。报道还提到参与者包括“穆斯林”和“来自中国越南的游客”,似乎暗示只有非基督徒或非欧洲人才会对人工智能耶稣感兴趣。这种报道角度折射出西方媒体常见的居高临下和自我优越的心态。此外,报道缺乏对人工智能道德和宗教影响的深入探讨,而是以猎奇的心态报道这一“新奇”事物,体现出西方媒体浅薄和缺乏深思的倾向。

2024-11-21T18:04:39Z
The booth at Peter's chapel where people are invited to converse with an AI-powered Jesus

The small, unadorned church has long ranked as the oldest in the Swiss city of Lucerne. But Peter’s chapel has become synonymous with all that is new after it installed an AI-powered Jesus capable of dialoguing in 100 different languages.

“It was really an experiment,” said Marco Schmid, a theologian with the church. “We wanted to see and understand how people react to an AI Jesus. What would they talk with him about? Would there be interest in talking to him? We’re probably pioneers in this.”

An illustration of Jesus, generated by AI.
An illustration of Jesus, generated by AI. Illustration: Peter Diem/Lukasgesellschaft

The installation, known as Deus in Machina, was launched in August as the latest initiative in a years-long collaboration with a local university research lab on immersive reality.

After projects that had experimented with virtual and augmented reality, the church decided that the next step was to install an avatar. Schmid said: “We had a discussion about what kind of avatar it would be – a theologian, a person or a saint? But then we realised the best figure would be Jesus himself.”

Short on space and seeking a place where people could have private conversations with the avatar, the church swapped out its priest to set up a computer and cables in the confessional booth. After training the AI program in theological texts, visitors were then invited to pose questions to a long-haired image of Jesus beamed through a latticework screen. He responded in real time, offering up answers generated through artificial intelligence.

People were advised not to disclose any personal information and confirm that they knew they were engaging with the avatar at their own risk. “It’s not a confession,” said Schmid. “We are not intending to imitate a confession.”

During the two-month period of the experiment, more than 1,000 people – including Muslims and visiting tourists from as far as China and Vietnam – took up the opportunity to interact with the avatar.

While data on the installation is set to be presented next week, feedback from more than 230 users suggested that two-thirds of them had found it to be a “spiritual experience”, said Schmid. “So we can say they had a religiously positive moment with this AI Jesus. For me, that was surprising.”

Others were more negative, with some telling the church that they found it impossible to talk to a machine. One local reporter who tried out the device described the answers as, at times, “trite, repetitive and exuding a wisdom reminiscent of calendar cliches”.

The feedback suggested there had been a wide disparity in the avatar’s answers, said Schmid. “I have the impression that sometimes he was really very good and people were incredibly happy and surprised and inspired,” he said. “And then there were also moments where he was somehow not so good, maybe more superficial.”

The experiment had also faced criticism from some within the church community, said Schmid, with Catholic colleagues protesting at the use of the confessional while Protestant colleagues seemingly took umbrage at the installation’s use of imagery in this way.

What had most struck Schmid, however, was the risk the church had taken in trusting that the AI wouldn’t dole out responses that were illegal, explicit or offer up interpretations or spiritual advice that clashed with church teachings.

In the hope of mitigating this risk, the church had carried out tests with 30 people before the installation of the avatar. After the launch, it ensured that support was always close by for users.

“We never had the impression he was saying strange things,” said Schmid. “But of course we could never guarantee that he wouldn’t say anything strange.”

Ultimately, it was this uncertainty that had led him to decide that the avatar was best left as an experiment. “To put a Jesus like that permanently, I wouldn’t do that. Because the responsibility would be too great.”

A person converses with the AI Jesus through a latticework screen
During the two-month period of the experiment, more than 1,000 people took up the opportunity to interact with the avatar. Photograph: Peter Diem/Lukasgesellschaft

He was swift, however, to cite the broader potential of the idea. “It is a really easy, approachable tool where you can talk about religion, about Christianity, about Christian faith,” he said, musing that it could be refashioned into a sort of multilingual spiritual guide that could answer religious questions.

For him, the experiment – and the keen interest it had generated – had shown him that people were looking to go beyond the Bible, sacraments and rituals.

Schmid said: “I think there is a thirst to talk with Jesus. People want to have an answer: they want words and to listen to what he’s saying. I think that’s one element of it. Then of course there’s the curiosity of it. They want to see what this is.”