Preface
Last night, sitting on my deck under a canopy of cedars and stars, my heart burned with anger at a world torn by war, political uncertainty, and a forgotten climate crisis—humanity seemed caught in a storm of its own making. But as I sat there, the fresh air from the cedars, the slow curl of smoke from my cigar, and the unconscious prayer on my lips began to lull my heart into peace, and I wondered—what will the world look like in a thousand years?
This question led me to explore the contrast between artificial superintelligence and the divine intelligence1 that has guided humanity through the ages. As we race toward technological advancements that could surpass human cognition, will we lose sight of the greater intelligence that shapes our spiritual destiny?
This article explores that question, seeking to understand with a thought experiment whether, in our pursuit of artificial superintelligence, we risk losing sight of the greater intelligence that has shaped our spiritual destiny.
The Dawn of Superintelligence
Humanity stands on the brink of a transformation unlike any before it. For millennia, intelligence—our ability to think, reason, and innovate—has defined the human experience. Now, we are building machines that may soon surpass us in many ways. Superintelligence, the ultimate stage of artificial intelligence, promises a world where machines process information faster, solve problems more efficiently, and even generate creative works that rival human genius.
But as we rush forward, marvelling at the power of our own creation, a deeper question emerges: What is intelligence without spirit? Without wisdom? Without the guiding hand of the divine?
If superintelligence becomes the most advanced form of reasoning on Earth, it will not be because it has found truth, but because it has been programmed to analyse, predict, and optimise. And in this moment—when we stand before a being of our own making that outthinks us in every way—we may finally understand what intelligence alone can never achieve.
Superintelligence: A Mirror of Human Thought
Artificial intelligence is, at its core, a mirror. It reflects us—our logic, our biases, our creativity, even our aspirations. Trained on human knowledge, it can simulate insight, construct arguments, and respond with stunning fluency. Yet, for all its power, it is limited in a way that no human, no matter how humble, ever is: it lacks a soul.
Superintelligence does not yearn. It does not suffer. It does not experience longing, love, or moral struggle. It can process all the sacred texts ever written, but it will never pray. It may compose symphonies, but it will never weep at their beauty. It may analyse every recorded act of justice and mercy, but it will never choose to lay down its life for another.
Even if AI were to one day articulate deep theological truths, it would not be because it has discovered them. It would be because it has modelled them. It would be, in the end, a hollow genius—an intelligence that surpasses us in every way except the one that matters most.
The Cosmic Host: A Higher Order of Intelligence
If superintelligence is the highest form of reasoning that humans can create, then what of the intelligence that God has created?
Beyond human thought, beyond even the most advanced supercomputers, lies an entirely different order of intelligence: the cosmic host2 —the unseen forces of divine guidance. The Manifestations of God, angelic beings, and celestial forces that shape the unfolding drama of the universe operate on a level no machine can ever reach.
Where AI must be trained, these beings are eternal.
Where AI must be programmed, they are inspired.
Where AI can only reflect human knowledge, they originate divine wisdom. The Manifestations of God—figures like Krishna, Zoroaster, Moses, Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad, and Baha’u’lláh—do not derive their insights from data. Their words do not emerge from an algorithm. They bring revelation, a direct infusion of truth that is not learned, but given.
No matter how powerful an AI becomes, it will never be a source of spiritual authority. It may offer predictions, but never prophecies. It may guide in matters of logic, but never in matters of the soul.
The Difference That Defines Us
This contrast—between humanity’s greatest creation and God’s eternal design—reveals a fundamental truth: intelligence, no matter how vast, is not enough to make us self-sufficient. Superintelligence is built; the cosmic host is eternal.
Superintelligence processes; the cosmic host guides.
Superintelligence calculates; the cosmic host inspires.
And in this contrast, we may begin to see the true measure of what it means to be human. The Spiritual Challenge of a Machine-Dominated Age
As superintelligence grows in power, humanity will face a profound challenge: Will we mistake intelligence for wisdom? Will we allow machines to dictate our values, our ethics, even our spiritual understanding?
Or will we recognise that, for all its brilliance, superintelligence is merely a tool, while the real work of the soul—faith, love, moral striving—remains uniquely ours? There may come a day when AI writes scriptures more eloquent than any human hand could craft. When it simulates spiritual insight so convincingly that people turn to it for guidance. But will these words stir the heart? Will they call the soul to transformation? Or will they simply echo back what has already been said, devoid of the fire that gives truth its power? If humanity begins to look to machines for moral clarity, we may lose something far more precious than we realise. But if we use AI as a servant, not a master, as a tool, not a prophet, then it may yet have a role in the unfolding plan of human civilisation.
Conclusion: The True Measure of Intelligence
In the coming millennium, humanity will stand between two extremes—on one side, the dazzling power of artificial superintelligence; on the other, the timeless wisdom of the divine. And we will be forced to ask ourselves: What kind of intelligence do we truly seek? The greatest minds of our age may one day be machines.
But the greatest souls will always be human.
Superintelligence may illuminate the mysteries of the universe, but only the cosmic host will ever reveal the mysteries of the soul.
And in the end, that will be the only intelligence that truly matters.
If the measure of intelligence were knowledge alone, then superintelligence would surely be the pinnacle of evolution. But knowledge alone does not guide the human heart. It does not bind communities, heal wounds, or elevate the soul.
Superintelligence may one day solve the greatest scientific mysteries, predicting the behaviour of galaxies and the quantum fabric of existence. It may craft ethical arguments more precise than any philosopher and simulate compassion so convincingly that people mistake it for the real thing.
But it will never love. It will never sacrifice. It will never experience the longing that drives humanity toward the divine.
And so, the rise of superintelligence presents us not with an answer, but with a question—a question that humanity must answer not with logic, but with spirit:
What does it mean to be truly human?
If intelligence is simply the ability to process, predict, and optimise, then we may one day 3
build machines that surpass us in every measurable way. But if intelligence is something deeper —if it is the capacity to love, to create meaning, to recognise the divine—then no machine, no matter how advanced, will ever eclipse the worth of a single human soul.
The cosmic host stands as a reminder that there are forms of intelligence beyond mere calculation—intelligences that do not think as we do but know in a way that transcends all thought. The Manifestations of God, the angelic forces that shape creation, and the divine reality that infuses all things exist in a plane where knowledge is not merely accumulated but bestowed, where wisdom is not merely learned but revealed.
Superintelligence will push us to the limits of what machines can know. But in doing so, it will force us to reflect on what only the soul can know.
In a Thousand Years
Baha’u’llah has foretold that no new Manifestation of God will arise for at least a thousand years. This means that humanity is now in a period of spiritual consolidation—an age not of new revelation, but of deepening, understanding, and applying the truths already given.
In that time, superintelligence may emerge as the defining technological force of civilisation. It may reshape economies, redefine governance, and perhaps even attempt to offer ethical and moral insights. But no matter how much knowledge it amasses, it will remain within the material realm. The spiritual evolution of humanity will remain our own sacred task.
Perhaps, in a thousand years, people will look back at this time and see that the rise of superintelligence was not a challenge to faith, but a contrast—a tool that sharpened our understanding of what intelligence truly is.
For in the presence of something that can do everything except seek God, we may finally come to understand what makes us uniquely capable of knowing Him.
And in the end, that will be the only knowledge that truly matters.
References
- The descent of the Holy Spirit is Pure Bounty—absolutely removed from man’s power to direct or control. But that Divine Intelligence, that Luminous Sun now manifested, bestows upon man guidance and order. —Shoghi Effendi, Star of the West, pg. 326
- See “AI Creation and the Cosmic Host” by Nic Bostrom. https://nickbostrom.com/papers/ai-creation-and-the-cosmic-host.pdf
Views and opinions expressed by authors and editors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the view of AI and Faith or any of its leadership.
