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Of making many books there is no end…
Ecclesiastes: 12: 12
During a thrilling conversation with students, I vicariously revisited my days as an English professor. Nosferatu had just been released and, knowing my interest in all things Gothic, students asked me about the movie’s authenticity. I confessed to not having seen the new adaptation, but we discussed the original German film, which led to detailed analysis of Dracula, then Frankenstein, The Invisible Man and even The War of the Worlds.
All went well until I realized not a single, incredibly well-informed member of our group, had read the original novels. Their expertise came from online discussion and AI summaries. Their knowledge of the wider textual details came from decades of popular adaptations rendering much-loved classics into films and musicals.
Given recent events south of the border, I have similarly been watching people of faith quote the Bible. One individual went so far as to reference the new president as God’s envoy (She may have even said he was God. But I digress). What seemed clear through much of this referencing was serious evidence that many key speakers had not read the original text. You know: the actual Bible. I don’t care where you stand politically: To suggest someone is actually the Christ is blasphemous in anyone’s book. But that’s the thing. Too few read the actual book.
As such, the secular age is having a field day. In a new television series, kids dressed in colorful outfits excitedly gathered in the corporation’s headquarters. A side character emerged to address them: “All right, who’s ready for the non-denominational egg hunt?” All the kids joyfully rejoiced and disappeared off screen in pursuit of the true meaning of Easter—which, apparently, is chocolate. Who knew?
Much is being written about the pernicious impact ChatGPT and other AI programs are having already. Colleges work overtime to ensure students submit their own work and not some computer-generated essay. I’ve read posts on social media in which commentors argue this fear is misplaced. They contend we shouldn’t be exhausting ourselves by writing our own work when technology can effortlessly do it for us. Meanwhile, writers the world over are discovering their works have been used to ‘train’ the AI software that is intent on replacing us — with no copyright citation, of course.
Visual artists, too, find AI used to generate paintings, ads and images that would once have come from them. Then there are the deep fakes: Technology so slick it is impossible to tell if the image we are watching online is real.
The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) defines authenticity as ‘the quality of being true,’ but goes on to say, ‘or what somebody claims it is.’ Perhaps I’m being pedantic, but these two definitions are not saying the same thing. Authenticity means something genuine. What is authentic cannot be a copy or an imitation. It is sui generis. To say that something is authentic because I claim it is, means that I am George Clooney. Who is to say otherwise?
This erosion of truth inevitably impacts our ability to believe. How can it not? Faith is a matter of trust but predicated on an intangible that calls on us to go beyond evidence into the realm of the spirit. Technologies that glorify the manipulation of reality, and also have the potential to saturate our social spaces with toxic negativity, can only militate against the possibility of belief. It’s true especially for younger folk beginning their journey of discovery and understanding. Those who are unscrupulous use chaos and disinformation to bamboozle and disorient. Navigating a safe passage through such disingenuousness can be disconcerting, if not downright terrifying.
Jesus, however, led by example, and in his early ministry delivered miracles to assure and embrace his followers. He also reminded us we needed to trust in His authenticity, and to model His goodness of heart to celebrate the dignity of our fellow citizens.
Despite the confusion and uncertainty, there are some clear markers to follow that help point the way towards an authentic life: any actions that lead to goodness are clear signs of faith; those that result in injustice to another are always deeply false. One final point to remember when we meditate on Christ’s authenticity. He is the Saviour because it is true, but also because He Himself told us so, which I believe meets both parts of the OED’s definition. Someone should write a book about this.
(Turcotte is President and Vice-Chancellor at St. Mark’s and Corpus Christi College, University of British Columbia.)
A version of this story appeared in the April 27, 2025, issue of The Catholic Register with the headline "Time to take a page from Jesus’ book".
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