I just finished reading Jean-Paul Sartre’s Existentialism is a Humanism, and it kind of broke my brain. The idea that “existence precedes essence” or, that humans are not born with a predetermined nature but define themselves through actions, feels both liberating and terrifying.

At its core, existentialism asks what it means to be free in a world without inherent meaning. Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and Albert Camus all grappled with this. If there is no God, no cosmic plan, then we are radically responsible for what we do. No excuses. No blaming fate. That freedom is both a burden and a gift.

But existentialism is really about authenticity. Sartre’s idea of “bad faith” (self-deception) warns us against outsourcing our moral decisions to social norms, religion, or tradition. Beauvoir applied this to gender: women must transcend their roles, not just inhabit them passively.

Camus added a twist: even if life is absurd (think Sisyphus), we can still find meaning through rebellion and solidarity. His image of Sisyphus smiling, even as he rolls the boulder, has stayed with me.

When you think about it, Existentialism has influenced everything from therapy (logotherapy) to literature to civil rights movements. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X both used existential themes (think freedom, authenticity, & moral choice) to speak to Black liberation.

In our age of algorithmic nudging, cultural polarization, and inherited ideologies, existentialism remains radically relevant. It reminds us: we are free, but not free from the responsibility of that freedom.

I often return to one of Sartre’s lesser-known quotes: “Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself.” In a world full of external pressures, remembering that may be the most liberating thought of all.

A recent theological document from the Vatican, titled Infinite Dignity, has stirred debate. Approved by Pope Francis, it describes gender‑affirming surgeries and surrogacy, along with what it calls “gender theory,” as “grave violations of human dignity” (see AP News).

“Gender theory” is criticized in the document as an ideology that threatens the understanding of biological sex, identity, and relationality. The Vatican argues that biological sex is immutable, and adopting gender identity inconsistent with birth sex conflicts with what they see as God’s design.

This document doesn’t exist in isolation. It reflects longstanding tensions between religious institutions, LGBTQ+ advocates, and scholars. It raises questions about how theology, ethics, science, and pastoral care intersect. How do religious communities respond to gender dysphoria? What about compassion, equity, psychological well‑being, versus doctrinal claims?

For me it’s painful to see how people seeking identity, wholeness, or affirmation can feel under attack. But I also see how believers feel responsibility toward theological consistency. The challenge is huge: how to hold both compassion and truth in tension, how to dialogue rather than condemn, and how to integrate scientific, medical, psychological realities with theological convictions.

As climate change intensifies, I’ve been drawn to how indigenous knowledge systems can offer resilient, sustainable practices. For centuries, indigenous communities have developed deep ecological knowledge related to weather patterns, soil health, and seasonal cycles, that is often undervalued in modern policy.

For example, ethnobotanical knowledge (how plants are used medicinally) has yielded many pharmaceuticals. Also, traditional agricultural methods like polyculture, agroforestry, or rotational burning (used carefully) maintain biodiversity better than monocultures.

Anthropologists document how loss of land, displacement, or cultural suppression undermines those knowledge systems, that’s not just loss of culture, but loss of sustainability tools. I believe integrating indigenous perspectives isn’t optional, but indeed essential for environmental ethics, theology of creation, and our future.

One of the most mind-blowing ideas I’ve encountered lately is that computers can help us measure cultural meaning. Specifically, researchers use a method called word embeddings (a type of natural language processing that places words in a mathematical space based on how often they appear near other words). Words with similar meanings tend to cluster together. But here’s the fascinating part: this method reveals our cultural biases, both past and present.

A 2018 study titled The Geometry of Culture analyzed massive text corpora, such as books, newspapers, and academic journals, spanning more than 100 years in the U.S. and U.K. The researchers measured how semantic relationships between concepts like “man-woman” or “rich-poor” changed over time.

The key insight? Culture exists in the space between words. By analyzing how “doctor” relates to “man” versus “woman” in different decades, you can quantify shifting gender norms. These semantic shifts reflect real social changes -even before they show up in law or policy.

This method has also been used to study racial bias, political ideology, and even the evolution of religious language. For example, how closely “God” is associated with “king” versus “parent” across time reveals changes in theological imagination.

Of course, word embeddings have limitations. They can reproduce harmful stereotypes if used uncritically. But when paired with critical theory and context, they become powerful tools for cultural anthropology and gender studies.

Language isn’t neutral, it’s a mirror of our shared assumptions. And with these tools, we can now watch that mirror shift in real time.