We Banned the Soul from the Building: On AI, Spiritual Life
The literary world is finally asking a question it has dodged for years: What can a human writer do that artificial intelligence cannot? The answers tend to circle around technical and personal aspects of writing, like voice, lived experience, and.
The article explores what human writers uniquely contribute compared to artificial intelligence (AI). While AI can analyze vast amounts of text and generate syntactically correct sentences, it lacks the capacity for genuine longing, grief, or ethical self-interrogation. These traits are tied to the human soul, a concept the article defines as the source of emotional depth, lived experience, and spiritual connection in writing. For example, AI cannot mourn a lost loved one or yearn for something unnamed, as it does not possess lived experience or emotional memory. The article highlights that while AI improves technologically, it will never replicate the human soul’s role in creating meaningful, authentic writing.
Despite the importance of the soul in writing, contemporary literary culture often avoids discussing it. The article notes that conversations about writing focus on technical skills, voice, or career development, but rarely address the spiritual life or inner life of writers. For instance, during a 2024 gathering of over 120 writers in Birmingham, Alabama, no sessions mentioned the soul. Reasons for this avoidance include discomfort with spiritual language, fear of proselytizing (imposing beliefs on others), and the secular and intellectual priorities of literary culture. Even religious spaces, like Christian publishing, may not accommodate writers of other faiths or those who are agnostic, leaving many without support for their spiritual needs.
Recent surveys indicate that Americans are increasingly interested in spirituality, even as religious affiliation declines. About 40% of adults report becoming more spiritual, while fewer say they have become more religious. Younger adults, in particular, are moving away from organized religion but still engage in practices like meditation, prayer, and spending time in nature. Additionally, 20% of Americans identify as Nones (those with no religious affiliation) but still participate in spiritual activities. Despite this shift, the literary world remains largely secular, leaving writers without structured support for their spiritual or inner lives.
The article describes a split many writers experience: they may feel spiritually curious in private but present themselves as secular professionals in public. This fragmentation occurs because literary spaces—such as workshops, conferences, and editorial meetings—rarely address the soul or spiritual life. The result is that writers often struggle with anxiety, particularly about AI’s impact on their work and the challenges of making a living from writing. This disconnect can make creative work feel less authentic and contribute to emotional exhaustion. The opposite of fragmentation is integration, where writers bring their whole inner life into their work, leading to deeper, more authentic writing.
To support writers’ spiritual and inner lives, the article suggests practical changes, such as literary conferences adding sessions on the soul and sustainable creative practices. MFA programs could offer optional courses on contemplation (the practice of deep reflection) and artistic identity. Residencies might also honor time spent on soul-tending (nurturing one’s inner life) as valuable, not just time spent on productivity metrics like word counts. The article emphasizes that these changes are add-ons to existing infrastructure, not replacements. For example, the author, a spiritual director (a guide who helps individuals explore their spiritual life) operating within a Christian framework, meets with writers of various faiths or no faith because they lack other spaces to discuss their inner lives.
The article highlights the role of *spiritual directors*, professionals who help individuals explore their spiritual or inner lives. The author, who identifies as a spiritual director within a Christian framework, works with writers regardless of their faith background, including Buddhists and agnostics. This role is framed as a *deeply Christian act* (an act of compassion and inclusion aligned with Christian values) because it meets a universal human need for spiritual support. The article suggests that such roles could become more common in literary spaces to address the gap in support for writers’ inner lives, particularly as AI challenges traditional notions of creativity and authorship.
