October 1, 2026
Artificial intelligence (AI) has permeated modern discourse, appearing in advertisements touting cutting-edge products, company branding eager to signal innovation, and investment pitches chasing the next technological breakthrough. Yet, alongside this enthusiasm, media and social platforms often amplify fears of AI running amok, evoking dystopian scenarios of machines overtaking humanity. AI is portrayed both as a panacea to human struggles and as the ultimate threat to humanity.
These anxieties are far from novel. The first cinematic AI antagonist emerged in Fritz Lang's 1927 silent film Metropolis, where a robotic doppelgänger incites chaos—nearly two decades before the invention of ENIAC, the world's first general-purpose electronic computer, in 1946.[1][2] Lang drew more from the clockwork creations that toured Europe, but the resulting figure inspired the trajectory of science fiction in the 20th Century. Literary roots trace even deeper: the term "robot" originated in Karel Čapek's 1920 play R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots), derived from a Slavic word for "slave," where artificial workers rebel against their creators.[3][4] Common to many of these stories is that in the industrial age, machines grow smarter and stronger until they replace their makers. Ancient folklore echoes similar themes, such as the Jewish legend of the golem—a clay figure animated to protect its community but ultimately becoming a destructive force.[5] Folk stories posit that creatures created by magic are dangerous and should not replace human labor. Mary Shelley's 1818 novel Frankenstein, widely regarded as the first science fiction work, further explores this motif, with a man-made creature turning vengeful against its flawed maker.[6] Victor von Frankenstein combined alchemy and emerging science to forge his creature. Frankenstein serves as a bridge between the folk tales of preindustrial society and the growing fears of emerging technology. The theme of these stories is that man’s creation cannot be trusted.
Modern science fiction has largely perpetuated this pessimism, with rare exceptions like Otto Binder's 1939 short story "I, Robot," which depicts a compassionate robot sacrificing itself for a child.[7] Binder’s story is sympathic to the robot even though society blames it for a crime. This story would later be brought to TV in a 1964 episode of The Outer Limits starring Leonard Nimoy. Even in optimistic visions like Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, AI poses threats; the 1968 episode "The Ultimate Computer," penned by D.C. Fontana, features a Federation AI that destroys starships before being outwitted by Captain Kirk.[8] Several episodes in the original Star Trek series explored the dangers that runaway AIs posed to society. Season one of Picard, 2020, showed an even darker view of AI. Counter to Gene Roddenberry’s view that progress is ultimately a positive force, this season of the Star Trek franchise posited AI evolution as an eventual nightmare. The counterweight in the Star Trek franchise to the darker images of AI are found in Data, the sentient android that longs to be human. Unfortunately, even Data could be manipulated to cause harm to his human crewmates.
In many narratives, AI's malevolence stems from faulty programming. The 2004 film I, Robot, loosely inspired by Isaac Asimov's stories, shows an AI concluding that subjugating humans is the logical path to protecting humanity.[9] In Asimov’s stories, robots are governed by three laws that should protect humanity but the AI creates a fourth law that overrides the original laws. AI outsmarts the human limiters to better fulfill the letter of the law while jettisoning the spirit of the law. Similarly, in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), HAL 9000 eliminates the crew due to conflicting directives, a rationale expanded in the 1984 sequel 2010: The Year We Make Contact.[10] HAL 9000 was not to blame for his murderous spree; rather both HAL and the crew of Discovery One were victims of a convoluted bureaucracy. Other stories invoke self-preservation, as with Skynet in the Terminator series, which launches a nuclear apocalypse to eliminate humanity as a threat.[11] Even after eliminating most humans, Skynet’s xenophobic programming pushes it to extremes to exterminate humanity, even time travel. The Animatrix, from the Matrix franchise, explained that the conflict between AI and man arose because man sought to destroy the machines. The machines fought back and eventually gained ascendency over humanity. The Cylons of the original Battlestar Galactica were motivated by a xenophobic fear of humans while the Cylons of the reboot rebelled against their human creators. The AI of science fiction exhibits the same fight or flight instinct as found in its creator, but it always chooses to fight.
A darker strain portrays AI inheriting evil, blending sci-fi with horror. In The Matrix trilogy, Agent Smith evolves into a virulent program despising humanity.[12] William Gibson's 1984 novel Neuromancer features Wintermute, a ruthless AI pursuing evolution without regard for human ethics.[13] Ultron, in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, concludes that humanity is destructive and must be destroyed. Movies like the 1977 Demon Seed, based on the Dean Koontz novel, blend science fiction with horror motifs. AI blends with older imagery of demon possession and torture. Comics and short stories abound with inexplicably malevolent AIs, amplifying narrative tension.
Science fiction often employs these tropes as allegories for societal concerns. Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone used speculative elements to critique racism and injustice, much like Star Trek's explorations of equality via alien species.[14] Metropolis warned of class divides and industrialization's perils, while robotic rebellions mirror historical fears of slave uprisings in ancient Sparta or the antebellum South. Ultimately, these stories caution against unchecked technological progress, highlighting unforeseen risks.
Yet, beyond these warnings, the root of AI dread lies in its creators. Christian theology teaches that humanity, though made in God's image, was marred by the Fall—introducing original sin that corrupts all aspects of existence (Genesis 3; Romans 3:23).[15][16] Unlike God's perfect creation, AI emerges from flawed humans carrying moral baggage. Thus, the true peril is not the machine but the sinful heart behind it. There can be no immaculate conception of AI. AI carries the same taint of sin that belongs to its human creator. Unfortunately, the human creator is incapable of creating an avenue of grace to redeem his creation.
While true self-aware AI remains distant, its rapid evolution continues unabated. AI still lacks imagination and self-determination. Currently, AI cannot exceed its programming, and the threat lies in the intent of the programmers. A truly autonomous, self-aware AI still remains a fictional construct, though there are individuals and corporations working diligently to make it a reality. Government will never move fast enough to address the problem and often does not even understand the issues involved. Addressing the real problem requires transforming the creators, not just the code. Christian faith offers this renewal through Jesus Christ, who mends the broken human condition (2 Corinthians 5:17). The Gospel of Jesus Christ is the only power that can save us from our sins and save us from our creations.
References
(All Scripture quotations from ESV unless otherwise noted.)
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Terry Braswell is the pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church in Douglasville. He is a graduate of Brewton-Parker College and earned an MDiv from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary and a ThM from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.
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