Arnold Peter
Founding Partner at Peter Law Group
Date: October 12, 2026
Originally published on LinkedIn
Summary: Arnold Peter draws on the life of St. Thomas More to examine why conscience, moral responsibility and human dignity must remain central as artificial intelligence enters legal decision-making. The article distinguishes AI’s analytical capabilities from the human responsibility to exercise judgment, show mercy and answer for consequential decisions. It concludes with an invitation to the October 28, 2026 Red Mass in Los Angeles.
An Invitation to the October 28 Red Mass in Los Angeles
Nearly 500 years after his execution, the patron saint of lawyers and judges offers a timely lesson about the limits of power, the dangers of artificial intelligence, and why human conscience must never become obsolete.
A Man Who Lost His Head Rather Than His Conscience
On July 6, 1535, Sir Thomas More climbed the scaffold at London’s Tower Hill, where he would be executed for refusing to recognize King Henry VIII’s supremacy over the Church in England. More had been one of England’s most accomplished lawyers, a distinguished scholar, a trusted adviser to the king, and ultimately Lord Chancellor. Yet when confronted with a choice between political obedience and religious conscience, he chose the latter, knowing that his decision would almost certainly cost him his life.
Nearly five centuries later, More’s extraordinary act of conscience raises a question he could scarcely have imagined: What happens when humanity delegates its most consequential decisions not to kings, judges, or elected officials, but to machines?
As an attorney who has spent more than three decades navigating the intersection of law, entertainment, technology, and human behavior, I have become increasingly interested in whether artificial intelligence might eliminate judicial bias, whether algorithms could someday determine criminal culpability, and whether technological progress risks diminishing the humanity it promises to serve. The more I examine these questions, the more convinced I become that a Catholic lawyer who died in the 16th century offers one of the most compelling answers to the ethical challenges of the 21st.
The King Who Demanded Obedience—and the Lawyer Who Said No
Born in London in 1478, More lived during a period of extraordinary intellectual, political, and religious transformation. The Renaissance was challenging established assumptions about knowledge and authority, while the printing press was revolutionizing communication. A brilliant humanist and friend of Erasmus, More authored Utopia in 1516, examining the shortcomings of his own society through an imagined alternative civilization.
More was hardly an opponent of progress. But he understood something our technologically obsessed society sometimes forgets: Intellectual capability and moral authority are not interchangeable.
When Henry VIII sought to establish royal supremacy over the English Church, More refused to endorse the arrangement. He resigned as Lord Chancellor in 1532, was imprisoned in 1534, and was executed the following year following his conviction for treason. His final declaration has echoed through history: “I die the King’s good servant and God’s first.”
Those words express a principle essential to any civilized legal system: There must be limits to power, even when that power possesses the authority of the state. Today, we should ask whether the same principle applies when power resides in an algorithm.
From the Divine Right of Kings to the Supposed Infallibility of Machines
Henry VIII claimed an authority that More believed exceeded the legitimate boundaries of government. Artificial intelligence presents a different but potentially comparable danger: the temptation to treat technological capability as a substitute for moral legitimacy.
We increasingly encounter systems capable of analyzing enormous quantities of information, identifying patterns invisible to human observers, and generating predictions with remarkable speed. In medicine, finance, employment, education, and law, AI promises efficiencies that would have seemed miraculous only a generation ago. I am not an opponent of these developments; indeed, I believe their potential to improve human welfare is extraordinary.
But technological sophistication does not confer moral wisdom. An algorithm may calculate the statistical probability that a criminal defendant will reoffend, identify inconsistencies in testimony, or predict how a particular judge might rule. Yet none of these capabilities necessarily equips it to understand repentance, mercy, redemption, or the moral significance of an individual’s circumstances.
A machine may determine what is statistically probable. A human being must still decide what is just. Thomas More understood that legitimate authority depends not merely upon the power to command, but upon fidelity to principles transcending that power.
Pope Leo XIV and the New Moral Frontier
Pope Leo XIV’s teaching on artificial intelligence, including the themes associated with Magnifica Humanitas, arrives at an extraordinarily consequential moment. AI is no longer simply a technological innovation; it is becoming an organizing force in economic, political, cultural, and legal institutions. The central moral concern is not whether machines can become more intelligent, but whether human beings will remain sufficiently wise to govern them.
Drawing upon the Church’s tradition of social teaching, this perspective emphasizes human dignity, solidarity, the common good, and the responsibility to ensure that technological progress remains subordinate to human flourishing.
It also continues a historical conversation associated with Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum in 1891. That landmark encyclical confronted the consequences of industrialization, including worker exploitation and the concentration of economic power. Today, the machinery has changed, but the moral challenge remains remarkably similar.
The Industrial Revolution raised questions about whether human labor would become subordinate to machines and capital. The AI revolution asks whether human judgment itself will become subordinate to computational systems. In this respect, Pope Leo XIV and Thomas More are engaged in essentially the same conversation, separated by nearly five centuries: Both challenge the proposition that power, however impressive or efficient, is sufficient to establish moral authority.
Would Thomas More Trust an Artificial Judge?
In my recent writings examining artificial intelligence and judicial decision-making, I have considered an uncomfortable possibility: Human judges are not always particularly good at judging.
Judges bring their experiences, assumptions, prejudices, and limitations into the courtroom. Eyewitness identifications can be mistaken, confessions can be coerced, and innocent individuals have spent decades imprisoned for crimes they did not commit. If artificial intelligence could reduce these injustices, should we not embrace it?
Certainly, we should consider its potential. AI might identify racial disparities in sentencing, detect inconsistencies in judicial rulings, or uncover evidence overlooked by human investigators. But there is an essential distinction between using technology to improve judicial decision-making and allowing technology to replace judicial responsibility.
Consider a defendant whose circumstances suggest a high statistical likelihood of future criminal behavior. An algorithm might recommend incarceration based upon historical data. A human judge, however, might recognize genuine rehabilitation, extraordinary family circumstances, or the possibility that mercy would better serve justice.
Conversely, an algorithm trained upon historically discriminatory decisions might reproduce those injustices beneath a veneer of mathematical objectivity. The problem is not simply that algorithms can be wrong. It is that algorithms cannot assume moral responsibility for being wrong.
A judge must explain a decision, confront its consequences, and remain accountable within a constitutional system. A machine has no conscience to trouble it, no reputation to defend, and no capacity for remorse. Thomas More would surely recognize the danger of surrendering judgment to an authority incapable of answering morally for its decisions.
The Virtues That Cannot Be Programmed
More’s life illustrates something frequently overlooked in discussions about artificial intelligence: Human imperfection is not always a defect to be eliminated. We understandably seek systems that are faster, more consistent, and less susceptible to prejudice. Yet some of humanity’s most important qualities emerge precisely from our limitations.
Compassion arises from recognizing suffering. Humility develops through acknowledging our fallibility. Courage becomes meaningful because we understand fear. Forgiveness matters because we ourselves have experienced wrongdoing and regret. These are not simply computational functions; they are expressions of human moral experience.
More’s courage was not demonstrated by correctly calculating the probability of his execution. He understood the consequences of defying Henry VIII, yet chose fidelity to conscience despite those consequences. An artificial intelligence system optimizing for survival might have recommended accommodation with the king. But survival was not More’s highest value, and therein lies the difference between optimization and virtue.
A Saint for Lawyers—and for the Architects of AI
Canonized in 1935, Thomas More is recognized as the patron saint of lawyers. In 2000, Pope John Paul II also proclaimed him patron of statesmen and politicians, emphasizing his defense of conscience against political power.
His example is especially relevant to lawyers because our profession occupies a distinctive position between institutional authority and individual rights. We are officers of the court, yet we must sometimes challenge the government. We advocate within established legal structures, yet our professional obligations require independent judgment even when doing so is unpopular or economically disadvantageous.
Artificial intelligence makes these responsibilities more important, not less. We should embrace tools that improve research, expand access to justice, and reduce unnecessary expense, while resisting the temptation to confuse automated efficiency with professional competence. Our responsibility is not merely to produce legally plausible answers, but to exercise judgment grounded in ethics, experience, compassion, and fidelity to the rule of law.
The same obligation extends to engineers, technology executives, legislators, and judges. No system should escape meaningful human accountability merely because its conclusions emerge from sophisticated mathematical processes.
The Question Thomas More Would Ask Us Today
If Thomas More could enter a modern courtroom, he would undoubtedly marvel at electronic legal research, instantaneous communication, and AI systems capable of reviewing millions of documents. But I suspect he would eventually ask a deceptively simple question: Who is responsible?
Who accepts responsibility when an algorithm denies someone employment, recommends incarceration, determines eligibility for medical treatment, or influences a decision affecting fundamental human rights? And when a machine’s recommendation conflicts with conscience, who possesses the courage to say no?
These are questions about the kind of civilization we intend to build. Catholic social teaching reminds us that human dignity cannot be reduced to productivity, computational performance, or statistical prediction. Thomas More reminds us that conscience sometimes requires resistance to the most powerful authorities of one’s age.
Together, they offer a moral framework for a technological future that need not sacrifice the human person upon the altar of efficiency.
The ultimate test of artificial intelligence will not be whether machines can think like human beings. It will be whether human beings retain the courage to think—and act—according to conscience.
Thomas More lost his head rather than surrender that responsibility. Nearly 500 years later, we should be exceedingly careful not to surrender ours.
An Invitation: The Red Mass and the Legacy of St. Thomas More
There is a particularly meaningful opportunity this month to reflect upon these questions and the enduring legacy of St. Thomas More.
On Wednesday, October 28, 2026, at 5:30 p.m., the St. Thomas More Society of Los Angeles will sponsor its 44th Annual Red Mass at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in downtown Los Angeles.
The Red Mass is a centuries-old tradition bringing together judges, attorneys, legislators, public officials, law students, and members of the broader community to seek divine guidance in the administration of justice. Although rooted in Catholic tradition, the celebration welcomes people of all faiths and traditions.
At a time when artificial intelligence is challenging our understanding of justice, responsibility, and human dignity, I warmly invite my colleagues throughout the legal profession, as well as friends and members of the broader community, to join us for this meaningful occasion.
Event Details
Date: Wednesday, October 28, 2026 Time: 5:30 p.m. Location: Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, 555 West Temple Street, Los Angeles, California 90012
RSVP and additional information: St. Thomas More Society of Los Angeles — 44th Annual Red Mass
Perhaps there is no better moment to honor the memory of a lawyer who understood that justice ultimately depends not upon the power of institutions, but upon the integrity of the human conscience.
Frequently Asked Questions About St. Thomas More, AI and Human Judgment
Why does the article connect St. Thomas More with artificial intelligence?
Peter uses More’s defense of conscience to examine the limits of powerful institutions and technologies. His argument is that the ability to produce an answer does not itself confer the moral authority to make a consequential decision.
Does the article argue against using AI in legal work?
No. Peter describes potential benefits in research, access to justice, identifying inconsistencies and uncovering overlooked evidence. He distinguishes those uses from delegating professional and moral responsibility to a machine.
What is the difference between prediction and judgment in the article?
The article contrasts statistical assessments with decisions requiring accountability, compassion and attention to individual circumstances. Peter argues that human beings must remain responsible for deciding what is just.
Why does conscience matter for lawyers using AI?
Peter emphasizes lawyers’ obligation to exercise independent judgment, including when an institution or a technological system appears authoritative. He argues that efficiency should support professional responsibility rather than replace it.
What event does the article invite readers to attend?
The article invites readers to the 44th Annual Red Mass, sponsored by the St. Thomas More Society of Los Angeles, on October 28, 2026 at 5:30 p.m. at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. The original invitation includes the RSVP link above.
Is the invitation limited to Catholics?
The article describes the Red Mass as rooted in Catholic tradition while welcoming people of all faiths and traditions, including members of the legal profession and the broader community.
