We Are a Desire, Not an Algorithm

We are a desire, not an algorithm.
— Pope Leo XIV at Sapienza — University of Rome
ENGLISH - We Are a Desire, Not an Algorithm
Pope Leo XIV
ITALIANO - Noi siamo un desiderio, non un algoritmo.
Papa Leone XIV

Pope Leo XIV - “We Are a Desire, Not an Algorithm”: Pope Leo XIV to the Students and Faculty of Sapienza

Distinguished Rector, distinguished members of the political and civil authorities, esteemed professors, researchers, and administrative staff, and, above all, dear students:

It is with great joy that I accepted the invitation to meet with the university community of Sapienza — University of Rome. Your university stands out as a center of excellence across many disciplines, and at the same time for its commitment to the right to education — for people with limited means, for people with disabilities, for prisoners, and for those who have fled war zones. I deeply appreciate, for instance, that the Diocese of Rome and Sapienza have signed an agreement to open a university humanitarian corridor from the Gaza Strip. It matters to me, having served as Bishop of Rome for just over a year, that I can finally meet you. With a shepherd's heart, I want to speak first to the students and then to the faculty.

The avenues of the campus, which I walked to get here, are crossed every day by young people carrying contradictory emotions. I picture you sometimes carefree, glad of your own youth — a youth that, even in a troubled world scarred by terrible injustices, lets you feel the future is still unwritten, and that no one can take it from you. Your studies, the friendships that come alive in these years, your encounters with the great teachers of thought — all of this is a promise of what can change us for the better, even before the world around us changes. When the desire for truth becomes a search, the courage you bring to your studies becomes a witness to the hope of a new world.

You know that I feel a spiritual closeness to Saint Augustine, who was himself a restless young man. He made serious mistakes, but he never lost his passion for beauty and wisdom. In that spirit, I was glad to receive so many questions from you — hundreds of them. I cannot answer them all, of course, but I am keeping them in mind, and I hope each of you will look for more chances to talk. That is also why university chaplaincies exist: places where faith meets your questions.

There is, however, a sadder side to this restlessness, and we should not look away from it. Many young people are suffering. Everyone goes through hard stretches; for some, though, those stretches can feel like they never end. More and more, this comes from the pressure of expectations and the weight of performance. It is the pervasive lie of a distorted system that reduces people to numbers, sharpens competition, and traps us in spirals of anxiety. Precisely this spiritual unease among so many young people reminds us that we are not the sum of what we own, nor a random cluster of matter in a silent cosmos. We are a desire, not an algorithm. And it is this particular dignity of ours that prompts me to put two questions to you.

To you, the young, this unease asks: “Who are you?” To be ourselves is the defining task of every person's life. “Who are you?” is the question we ask one another; the question we silently put to God; the question only we can answer for ourselves, yet one we can never answer alone. We are our relationships, our language, our culture — all the more reason for your university years to be a season of real encounters.

And to those who are older, the unease of the young asks: “What kind of world are we leaving behind?” A world, sadly, deformed by wars and by the rhetoric of war. This is a pollution of reason that spreads from the geopolitical level down into every social relationship. The simplification that manufactures enemies has to be corrected, and universities above all should correct it — by valuing complexity and by exercising memory wisely. The tragedy of the twentieth century, in particular, must not be forgotten. The cry “never again war!” from my predecessors, which echoes the rejection of war written into the Italian Constitution, urges us toward a spiritual alliance with the sense of justice that lives in young hearts, with their refusal to be shut up inside ideologies and national borders.

Take an example: over the past year, military spending has surged worldwide, and especially in Europe. Do not call it “defense” when a rearmament drives up tensions and insecurity, drains investment from education and health, erodes trust in diplomacy, and enriches elites who care nothing for the common good. We also need to keep a close watch on how artificial intelligence is being developed and used, in both military and civilian settings, so that it does not let human beings off the hook for their own decisions and does not deepen the tragedy of conflict. What is unfolding in Ukraine, in Gaza and the Palestinian territories, in Lebanon, and in Iran shows us the inhuman direction in which war and new technologies are evolving together — a spiral of annihilation. Study, research, and investment must run the other way. Let them be a radical “yes” to life. Yes to innocent life, yes to young life, yes to the lives of peoples who are crying out for peace and justice.

A second front for our shared commitment is ecology. As Pope Francis told us in the encyclical Laudato si’, “there is a very substantial scientific consensus indicating that we are facing a worrying warming of the climate system” (no. 23). More than a decade has gone by since then, and beyond the good intentions and a few real efforts in that direction, the situation does not seem to have improved.

Here, dear young people, I urge you above all not to give in to resignation. Turn your anxiety into prophecy. Those who believe know that history does not fall helplessly into the hands of death, but is always held — no matter what happens — by a God who creates life out of nothing, who gives without taking and shares without consuming. Today, the very implosion of a possessive, consumerist paradigm is clearing the ground for something new that is already breaking through. Study, cultivate, and protect justice. Together with me and with so many brothers and sisters, become artisans of a real peace: a peace unarmed and disarming, humble and tenacious, working for harmony among peoples and for the care of the Earth.

We need all your intelligence and all your courage. You can help those who came before you to recover an authentic horizon of meaning, so that we don't settle for one more fleeting snapshot of the moment we happen to be in. We have to move from interpretation to action. In a society with fewer and fewer children — one that pays so little attention to this — bear witness that humanity is capable of a future when it builds that future wisely.

Your university, which carries a divine name, is a place of study and a center of experiment that has nurtured critical thinking for centuries. You, the faculty, can cultivate a fruitful bond with the minds and hearts of your students. It is a demanding responsibility, certainly, but an exciting one. Above all, it matters to believe in your students. So ask yourselves often: do I trust them?

Teaching is a form of charity, every bit as much as helping a migrant at sea, a poor person on the street, or someone in despair. It is about loving human life always and in every circumstance — about valuing its potential, so that you speak to the hearts of the young and don't focus only on their knowledge. Teaching becomes, then, the witness of values through one's own life: care for reality, a sense of openness to what is not yet understood, and the willingness to speak the truth. What sense would it make, after all, to train a researcher or a professional who does not, in the meantime, cultivate a conscience, a sense of justice, and respect for what cannot and must not be dominated? Knowledge serves not only to reach professional goals; it also serves to discern who one is. Through classes, internships, work with the city, theses, and doctoral research, every student can keep finding new motivations and put the relationship between study and life, between means and ends, into order.

Dear friends, as I encourage you in this daily practice, I want this visit to be a sign of a new educational alliance between the Church in Rome and your distinguished university — a university born and grown right within the Church. I assure you of my prayerful remembrance, and I earnestly invoke the Lord's blessing on the entire Sapienza community. Thank you.

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