A talk by Sr Alison OSB (Mucknell)
Some of this talk was first given to the February Movement meeting in 2025. Some ideas have already changed or developed since I spoke at the ARCiE day on October 31st 2026. Thank you to all who responded so encouragingly. I have tried to acknowledge quotations and sources for my ideas; if I have omitted any, I humbly apologise and will happy rectify the mistake.
Gutenberg is widely acknowledged as the origin of the print revolution that hit the Western world in the 1400s. The term, “The Gutenberg Parenthesis” was coined by Danish Professor Lars Ole Sauerberg to suggest that the era of print will come to be seen as a blip, an interlude. The brackets opened with Johannes Gutenberg’s invention of the first printing press in the mid-15th century, and they are closing now with the rise of digital media. This “Gutenberg Parenthesis” interrupted an oral culture and, on either side of it, we find ourselves in a world that operates very differently from the world of print media in between.
In his book, The Gutenberg Parenthesis, Jeff Jarvis says:
“…public conversation…[is] nasty brutish, uninformed, overwhelming, and loud…Misinformation, disinformation, harassment, and hate are too prevalent…”[1]
We recognise this as similar to the superstition, credulity, fear, power concentrated in the hands of a few found throughout the middle ages. Jarvis and others suggest that understanding the way the world was before the opening of the print era can help us now. “Going forward to the past” they call it. The way people might come to navigate digital media could be far more akin to how people navigated the world of the pre-print era.
However, simply excising the Gutenberg Parenthesis is not possible or helpful. Five hundred years of books and print have left their mark. They have formed us. A descent into a world like the brutality of the middle ages is not inevitable. If we notice similarities in the “oral” cultures on either side of the Gutenberg Parenthesis, this also gives us opportunity to look at how we might want to behave into the future given our previous experience.
And hasn’t that always been the invitation of the Biblical narrative? God constantly and repeatedly inviting human beings to look at how they are, and to choose, and to change.
We are the ones who know about mustard seeds and pearls. We know about still small voices in the midst of tempest and earthquake. We know about a whispered breath of the Spirit speaking the universe into existence. We are the ones who know our value in God’s sight.
These are gifts we have for the world. Christians are called not to take at face value the cynical pessimism, the fatalistic fear and despondency of our times. It is not an easy task.
But it might be simpler than we think.
Author Naomi Alderman, in her book, Try not to Burn Anyone at the Stake Today[2] and her podcast, The Third Information Crisis[3] suggests we have been here more than once before. Her view looks back and finds similarities with previous ages and takes a more forward trajectory – and potentially a more hopeful one. She sees three changes of technology – namely the invention of writing itself, then the invention of the printing press, and last the current digital revolution.
Each new technology has a similar effect on human beings. They challenge us, she says, psychologically, sociologically, and emotionally. Each change leads to (or exacerbates) a time of upheaval and cultural change. This was initially destabilising, but also full of potential. Understanding the period of transition that each earlier technology brought can illuminate the impact of the digital era now. Hence her book title – Try not to Burn Anyone at the Stake Today (emphasis mine). We have been here before; we can get through this; we don’t need to destroy other people to do that.
For Alderman, it is writing itself that is uncanny. She notes that a written text gives us a voice after death. Someone we do not know and cannot see can communicate with us. Writing is less flexible and responsive (less warm and human) than speech. We are distanced from the person speaking. The consequence of this new technology is that we need actual people less. Alderman’s examples include needing far less the wisdom of the village elder who remembers the times the river floods if there is a written record of where and when the river tends to flood.
This distancing from other people is perpetuated in the printed pamphlet, or Tweet and Instagram message, which could be produced by anyone – with whom we have no contact, no immediacy of engagement. Author and reader are divorced from each other by writing itself, but through print and internet this becomes magnified on a massive scale.
If we are re-entering an era much more like oral culture (rumour, superstition, gossip, story), then we do so from a position where the invention of writing has atrophied our ability to navigate the immediacy of human contact. Screens[4]set up a medium through which we encounter others and so increasing the danger that when we meet lives unlike our own we are more easily numbed into indifference, dismissal, or step into dislike (even hatred) towards occupants of an “unreal” virtual world.
This is a time of instability. We do not – yet – have new tools, structures, metanarratives to help us marshal the vast amounts of information and navigate in this potentially chaotic universe beyond the linear narrative and sequential ordering[5] of print culture.
Back in the Reformation people “toppled statues, argued viciously, murderously about transubstantiation, and often came to believe there was no point trying to do anything about the great problems of the world because “works” were unimportant… Which all sounds very contemporary.” [6] Yet, all the tendencies of the internet (Alderman again) – making us anxious, uneasy, aggressive, defensive – are already inherent within the uncanniness of writing itself because it reduces the need to speak directly.
This distancing of people one from another is not the whole story. There is another way too.
Now we can all – each one of us – access huge amounts of information and meet all kinds of people; back then individuals could suddenly own their own copy of a printed Bible in the 1500s. The institutions swept away at the Reformation (the welfare, education and healthcare provided by the monasteries) were eventually reshaped. Printing facilitated the Enlightenment, promoted scientific enquiry and discovery, fostered the increase of schools and literacy, and enabled the more equitable distribution of power. Today online everyone has a voice, all can do their own research. Intermediaries holding power by their expertise are removed. Our access to many, many more lives online, like and unlike our own can elicit compassion for a stranger in need, evoke self-discovery, expand horizons. We saw some of this in the way people in Covid lock-down supported one another, physicians and scientists shared knowledge, governments observed best-practice, right around the globe – only possible because of digital media.
The fading of the print era appears to coincide with the decline of church-going in the west. Christianity in the UK is no longer the religion of the majority, an assumed backdrop to everything. Our faith now is in a situation much more akin to what would have been familiar to Bede, or Aidan and Cuthbert, or St Benedict. Christianity is a small voice in a tribal secular world in a declining empire. We have been here before. Perhaps our own Church history can help us see how to navigate in the current digital climate? Perhaps we already have the tools we need. Saint Benedict, in a kind of context very like ours – disease, war, famine migration – has the humility not to think his way is superior, or to be imposed as too often had been the case in “Christendom”. When guests arrive at his monastery he does not assume they are Christian or try to convert them. He is comfortable welcoming and cooperating with people of good will of all faiths and none. He welcomed the stranger as if they were Christ himself at the door. It is that welcome that is transformative and (I believe) that we are called to embody now.
Pope Leo started his first encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas with the fact that we have choices into the future. He says we can choose to build a tower of Babel like those in Genesis 11:1-9. An impressive project – one language, one technology, one goal – but undertaken without reference to God, or to the care and concern for one’s neighbour. Hubris, pride and self-sufficiency eliminated the many gifts to be found through diversity, cooperation, consideration. Ultimately the Babel project sacrifices human dignity[7].
Or we can choose to reconstruct the walls of Jerusalem like Nehemiah (Nehemiah ch.s 2-6). Nehemiah is just one person who finds himself in the service of king Ataxerxes. First, he prayed and fasted, only then approaching the king to ask to return to a ruined Jerusalem with a fragment of the exiled population. From this precarious state, Nehemiah (and here I am quoting Pope Leo):
“did not impose solutions from above. He convened the families, assigned each of them a section of the wall to rebuild, listened to their concerns, coordinated their efforts and addressed any opposition…the city is reborn, not through the initiative of one man, but through the shared responsibility of all: men, women, priests, artisans, heads of households and young people all play a part. It is an undertaking with God at the center, which rebuilds relationships before rebuilding with stones. [This]…rediscovers a common language — not one of uniformity, but one of communion”[8]
Magnifica Humanitas is a closely argued document and benefits from careful reading. Much of it is addressed to the International Community – to politicians, governments, tech companies. This is not where most of us, beyond the ballot box, have much influence. But the Pope has much else to boost the confidence of the rest of us.
In the technocratic world where Artificial Intelligence is gaining dominance, Pope Leo reminds us that human beings are more than intelligence; that intelligence is much more than rapid problem solving and lightning data retrieval or data manipulation. Artificial Intelligence merely apes – imitates – some aspects of what human beings recognise as intelligent behaviour. AI has no experience, no body, no emotional response; AI builds no relationships; AI has no concept of good or evil. Crucially, “[it] lack[s] the affective, relational and spiritual perspective through which human beings grow in wisdom.” [9]
Pope Leo also helps us by exposing aspects of the technological world that have the appearance of good. He writes:
“entrusting an algorithm in practice with the power to select who is worthy or not, without anyone bearing responsibility for that judgment, is to hand over the task of redefining the boundaries of human possibilities. In this process, political responsibility is also lost, not just empathy toward those excluded, which can, after all, be simulated. The exclusion of the vulnerable becomes cloaked in a veneer of neutrality and objectivity, against which it becomes difficult to raise objections. In this way, injustice goes unnoticed, and compassion, mercy and forgiveness — understood not as mere appearances but as real political actions — gradually disappear from view.” [10]
He shows us how we can be deflected from our true worth as human beings.
In a world in which:
“the fullness of life is equated with having more, reducing weakness, eliminating uncertainty and exerting total control; when efficiency becomes the ultimate measure of value, human beings are tempted to see themselves as a project to be optimized rather than as persons called to relationship and communion.”[11]
He goes on:
“human beings are not confined by the boundaries of their own nature; rather, they are called to self transcendence, not through an escape from reality or a contempt for their limitations, but through their fulfilment in love….For an algorithm, an error is a flaw to be corrected; for a person, however, an error can be a catalyst for profound change. A personʼs future is not calculable, but depends on oneʼs freedom — elevated by the inexhaustible grace of God — and on the relationships cultivated. [12]
At the end of the encyclical, the Pope sets out how he sees ordinary Christians building a future of human dignity in a digital machine age.
More than machines, we can seek for truth, and know where our worth lies: in the love of God who sent his only Son to be in actual relationship with us.
Pope Leo then sets in perspective our responsibility:
“a subtle temptation may emerge…that the problems are too big and we are too small, and that our choices, therefore, cannot make a difference. This is a polite form of resignation, often disguised as realism. Certainly, not everyone has the same power to make a difference. There are those who govern, make investment decisions, lead institutions, conduct research, educate, produce or provide information, and then there are those who only seem to live their daily lives. Yet, no one is without responsibility. We all have our own areas for action, and it is precisely there — and nowhere else — that we must choose whether to fuel the mentality of force (even if only through indifference, cynicism, lies or hatred), or to preserve the mindset of peace (with truth, moderation, closeness and care)… The civilization of love will not arise from a single or spectacular gesture, but from the sum total of small and steadfast acts of fidelity that serve as a bulwark against dehumanization.”[13]
Isn’t that a wonderful encouragement? A reminder of mustard seeds.
Pope Leo ends the encyclical enlarging this picture of Gospel hope. Speaking of the Magnificat, he writes:
“Mary suddenly sees all of history through the lens [of God’s revelation to her]. Nothing has changed around her; the socio-political situation of her time remains the same. The Romans continue to control her land, and her people are still subjugated and humiliated. Yet, everything has changed within her, and this allows her to see what is invisible. God has already shown the strength of his arm; he has already scattered the proud, cast down the mighty, lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed. He has already helped Israel, his servant. God “takes the part of the lowly. His plan is one that is often hidden beneath the opaque context of human events that see ‘the proud, the mighty and the richʼ triumph. Yet his secret strength is destined in the end to be revealed”…With the same faith as Mary, let us become “weavers of hopeˮ in our world, sharing who we are and what we have, so that the presence of Jesus may grow among us and his Kingdom take shape. In the humble fidelity of daily life, even the era of AI can become a time in which the Holy Spirit brings about the civilization of love in our lives ˮ [14]
Here we find a role for the Religious Communities. We bring the gifts of centuries of disciplined, care-full, practice of loving one another in Community to share with fragile humanity. By the very simply act of living in Community we can translate all that Pope Leo is advocating in Magnifica Humanitas into a visible reality for the world to see – wherever we are. In 2012 Rowan Williams wrote:
“…the Venerable Bede describes the early days of Augustine’s mission in England, …What draws converts to the faith, we are told, is poverty and prayer…the simplicity of the lives of Augustine’s monks…
[W]hat makes a community effective in terms of mission and witness is the apostolic life… [living out] …radical poverty and mutual dispossession so that the apostolic model may come through in its full converting force.
In short, what changes hearts, in Bede’s understanding, is the visible demonstration of new possibilities for life together – a life without acquisitiveness, a life not ashamed of depending on the generosity of others, inside and outside the community, a life unified by prayer.[15]
Visible Chrisitan commitment in Community is immensely attractive. We shouldn’t be surprised! Jesus said:
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13: 34-35)
I find myself often repeating that I did not know the reality of Jesus’ command to love one another until I came to live in Community. The invitation is to love the stranger, someone utterly different from ourselves with the same intensity (if a different focus) as we would a spouse or child. Because this is how Christ loves us. It is this depth (and height) of love that Jesus is asking of the Christian Community towards one another, and Religious Life (in all its forms) is charged with manifesting that love most particularly.
In Community we have to get past the dispute, we must resolve the row; it is essential to find ways to hold the moodiness; we need to tend each other when sick, and look out for daily needs; pray together, work together, put up with each other’s cooking! Find joy in difference when it is driving us round the bend. We have to risk being vulnerable with one another – because this is what Christ did.
Religious Communities have a responsibility to model for the world the true value of actual, human relationships, the wisdom of formation in discipline practices of prayer and service, or making mistakes and learning from them, or receiving and giving forgiveness.
It is the opposite of instant gratification, it is not learned overnight. It takes a lifetime of propping each other up as we try. But in its faltering and bumpy way is shows the world that it is possible to live together in unity and love.
Pope Leo says,
“I invite everyone to cherish places and times where physical presence remains crucial, such as shared meals, Christian community gatherings, time spent with the lonely and serving the poor. These are signs of a humanity that continues to believe that every person’s body is a dwelling place of God and a temple of the Holy Spirit.”[16]
I believe that those of us living – falteringly – together in Religious Community (Together in God) have a task for our Lord in this digital age, alongside all the Baptised, to proclaim Mary’s Magnificat hope. To weave that hope.
© Sr Alison Fry OSB
October 2026
[1] [1] Jeff Jarvis, The Gutenberg Parenthesis: The age of print and its lessons for the age of the internet, Bloomsbury Academic 2023, p. 147.
[2] Alderman, N., Penguin 2026
[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0020xvb
[4] See Oliver Burkeman, The Inconvenient Truth, BBC Podcast 2023, https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/brand/m001mbz1
[5] https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/aug/02/the-gutenberg-parenthesis-the-age-of-print-and-its-lessons-for-the-age-of-the-internet-by-jeff-jarvis-review
[6] Naomi Alderman, The Third Information Crisis, Episode 2 “The Box Pew Effect” https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m0020y2q
[7][7] Magnifica Humanitas 7, p,4
[8] Op. cit., 8, p4.
[9] Magnifica Humanitas, 99, p.19.
[10] Op. cit. 103, p.19
[11] Op. cit. 112, p. 21
[12] Op. cit. 127 & 128, p. 23
[13] Op. cit. 212-213, p.35
[14] Op. cit. 243-245, p. 40
[15] Rowan Williams, Monks and Mission: a perspective from England, Address at the Abbey of Monte Cassino, 2012. No longer available online. Underlining mine.
[16] Magnifica Humnitas 239, p,39
