The rise of AI, the ubiquity of cheap and accessible entertainment, the power of social media, and the progressive, secular biases of many educators have caused some Christians to question whether there’s any good in studying the humanities today. That question has grown louder in part because of our bespoke information ecosystems. Whatever knowledge we can gain from literature can (presumably) be gleaned through ChatGPT summaries of novels and poetry. Whatever writing we need to develop through taking courses can be avoided by writing through an AI platform. Whatever political context we need to know how to vote can be found in a TikTok video or Instagram reel. Whatever historical reality makes sense of our moment can be explained better by the influencer I follow on X (who shares my worldview) than by a PhD or other expert in that area of knowledge. Whether you’re seeking to learn through personal study or pursue a college degree, there seems to be little reason to pick up a novel, history book, or work of philosophy or poetry today when the benefits of those works can be delivered to you in neatly packaged form through AI. And if in obtaining that summary you can avoid all the biases of secular liberals, even better. While this line of thinking is wildly persuasive to many right now––so persuasive that reading is in decline and AI cheating is rampant in high schools and college campuses––it’s profoundly mistaken. We need the humanities today to remind us how to be fully human as God designed us, to exercise the gifts God has given us, and to love our neighbor. To Be Fully Human People who argue against the humanities assume we aren’t losing something profound by not engaging with literature. With the help of AI, YouTube, TikTok, or Wikipedia summaries, you can receive all the benefits of the humanities more efficiently, without the effort of learning a language or reading a book that thousands of others have read. But the experience of doing the reading and processing the words is part of the wisdom you gain from reading. You can’t shortchange it by reading a summary. I recently had this point brought home to me. I was reading a well-known book that I’d read reviews of but never bothered to read myself. I assumed I knew its argument, but I realized it was much deeper, richer, and more profound than the few catchphrases it was known for. This happened to me with a nonfiction book, but the principle is even more true for fiction and poetry, where the form and experience of reading shape us. No one who’s only read a summary of Dante’s Inferno knows the wisdom of Dante’s Inferno. No one who’s only read a summary of Dante’s Inferno knows the wisdom of Dante’s Inferno. When we study the humanities well, we study the best that’s been said and written about human life outside the Bible (but often including the Bible!). There’s wisdom to be found in humanities literature, but it requires contemplation, effort, and time to access that wisdom. One of the Christian masterpieces of literature I often teach and turn to is T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets, a work that I believe lays out the case for how to live in the modern wasteland. It’s a long poem filled with spiritual wisdom, but it’s also a challenging poem that requires contemplation and repeated readings. Moreover, it’s a devotional poem that puts God at the center of the cosmos and the incarnation at the center of history. We can also gain profound insights and experience beauty by reading Aristotle, Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, and Dante. The list could go on. Reading good books discerningly helps us live virtuously before God, reminds us of the reality of the fall for ourselves and our neighbor, and stirs us up to good works. In Philippians 4:8, Paul commends to us, “Brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Paul is saying some things in this world have been made for our delight. And in great literature, great philosophy, and great works of history—not the sloppified perversions of them—we find things that are excellent and worthy of praise. To Exercise God’s Gifts In 1 Timothy 4:13–15, Paul admonishes Timothy to discipline himself in godliness: Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. It’s not clear from this passage what this “gift” is. It could be teaching. But whatever it is, Paul calls Timothy to cultivate the gift, to “immerse” himself in it so much that others see him progress. There’s a parallel teaching in Christ’s parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14–30). The wise servant invests the talents that the master entrusts to him, while the fool buries his talent in the ground out of fear. The biblical principle is clear: Christians are called to develop the gifts God has given them. I worry about what we’re “immersing” ourselves in. Are we immersing ourselves in developing the gifts God has given us, or are we immersing ourselves in distractions, diversions, and activities that squander those gifts? Let’s consider one gift for now: the gift of intellect, of our mind. According to Jesus, the greatest commandment involves loving God with all our mind (Matt. 22:37). This raises a question: What are we immersing our minds in? Are we immersing them in the rich wisdom of the ages that nurtures growth seen by those around us, as Paul desired for Timothy? Or are we immersing them in easy, accessible, simple, quick, ear-tickling, bias-confirming content? What would glorify God? My concern is that with the use of AI, we off-load our cognitive abilities to a large language model that does our thinking for us. There may be a case for using AI in limited situations, but when it comes to the pursuit of wisdom or the cultivation of our gifts, we should be concerned about how we’re shortchanging our maturity. The same principle goes for watching YouTube videos instead of reading a book. While these tools can help supplement our studies, they should never replace our studies. Wrestling with words and meanings helps our minds grow in understanding, language, communication, knowledge, truth, discernment, and, ultimately, wisdom. To Love Our Neighbor Perhaps the most important benefit of studying the humanities today is the way it’ll bless your neighbor. I don’t know if you’ve looked around, but our culture is a mess. We can’t talk to each other. We can’t write. We can’t debate. We can’t make ethical arguments. We aren’t virtuous. I’m not saying the humanities can cure all that ails us. But studying the humanities well gives someone the tools she needs to engage a diverse world. And it does so in a way that enables her to advocate for the vulnerable, the voiceless, the unborn, the elderly, the person who needs justice—in other words, her neighbor. A person who has studied the humanities will be able to write well because he has read well. And someone who can write well can articulate ideas, advocate against unjust insurance policies, traverse bureaucracies, share the gospel, and persuade people of ethical truths. A person who can read well can better discern propaganda from truth (if she chooses to be humble enough to set aside her biases), learn how to advocate for the poor and needy, and avoid falling into senseless arguments. We need people who are well versed in history and political science, who are well read and articulate. Most of all, we need people who are righteous and virtuous to help keep our neighborhoods, states, and democracy alive. We need people who have disciplined their minds and sought out the wisdom and virtue of the humanities. But I also think that as more people choose to delegate their creative and cognitive abilities to AI platforms, business will come to see the value of those who have invested in a humanities-rich (or at least a liberal arts) education. Because those who can think for themselves, process for themselves, create for themselves, read deeply and write well and speak and are wise and virtuous—those people will make good employees. The machine will always be there. The human will not. The humanities cannot save us, but they can remind us of who we are and what we’re made for: to glorify God and enjoy him forever. The humanities cannot save us, but they can remind us of who we are and what we’re made for: to glorify God and enjoy him forever. We do that by following the great commandment, by immersing ourselves in the gift of the mind God has given us and not burying that gift in the slop. At their best, the humanities celebrate God’s gift of the mind. Yes, many secular progressive professors undermine the humanities curriculum and question the value of that gift. But you can find wonderful schools where God is proclaimed and that gift is cultivated. Whether you study on your own or go to school, I encourage you to take the gift that is your mind seriously. God made us to use our minds. Let’s use them to his glory.