Meet The Golem: The First 'Artificial Intelligence'

"What are the computers and robots of our time if not golems?"

Isaac Bashevis Singer

In Jewish tradition

In Jewish tradition, the idea of creating an artificial human being appears in the Babylonian Talmud. In the Talmud, the sage Rava declares:

"If the righteous wished, they could create a world"

Rava created an artificial man from dust which, however, was unable to speak, and subsequently was destroyed. The Talmud does not discuss how this creative act was accomplished, but techniques for creating artificial life are contained in the Sefer Yetzirah [Book of Creation], which discusses God’s creation of the universe by means of permutations of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. In the Bible, God created the world through language and Jewish mystics explored the creative potential inherent in combinations of Hebrew letters, in emulation of the Divine.

Medieval 'golem-making'

Later medieval texts describe various techniques for golem-making, which involve moulding a figure from dust or earth and animating it by means of incantations, ritual movements, and reciting specific combinations of Hebrew letters. These precise letter combinations constituted the ‘coding’ that could animate inanimate material, much as computer code ‘creates’ AI.

Modern survival myth

In the modern period, the golem became a survival myth for a powerless Jewish community. As the legend spread, another element was added to the narrative: at some point the golem grows so large and powerful that it becomes difficult to control and runs amok, before the rabbi manages to return the golem to dust.

What does it mean to create 'The Golem'?

In the Jewish mystical tradition, creating a golem was understood as a means to grow closer to the Creator and to achieve spiritual perfection.

With this emphasis on the very process of creation – and not on the artificial being that resulted from the mystical acts – the golem was brought to life in a communal ritual and then immediately rendered lifeless again. Over time, the story’s emphasis shifted from a pure act of creation to the purposes that a golem might serve.

Numerous narratives developed as the golem became the subject of legend and folklore, generally involving a single learned figure who creates a golem with a specific goal in mind, whether to serve as a help-mate, a companion, or, eventually, to rescue Jews from danger. For diasporic Jewish communities, subject to the whims of rulers and the violence of mobs, the golem was a redemptive figure.

The Golem as the saviour and destroyer

Both the golem story and Frankenstein have been understood as expressing the ‘horrors’ that science and technology can wreak. Yet it is the golem that underscores the ambivalent relationship we have with scientific and technological progress. In this regard, the scientist seeks to benefit humanity, just as the goal of the rabbis was to rescue Jews threatened by violence; therefore, any resulting danger is an unintended consequence.

It is this dialectical nature of the golem – at once saviour and destroyer – that offers fertile comparisons with AI, and has inspired writers, filmmakers, and artists to interpret this archetypical. At its core, the golem motif explores the mystery and power of the creative act.

Exploring the boundaries of being human

Many of the current debates about the role of AI in society were anticipated by rabbinic discussions concerning the status of a golem’s ‘being’, for example, whether a golem can be counted in a minyan, the quorum of ten men traditionally required for certain prayers. These questions challenge us to define our humanity.

Frankenstein’s Creature longs for human society, and in some versions of the tale, the golem falls in love and is rejected (perhaps an influence of Shelley’s narrative), precipitating its destructive rampage. In considering the emotions and actions of both characters, we explore the boundaries of what is human. Above all, these archetypes challenge us to behave responsibly vis-à-vis one another and vis-à-vis our creations.

Golem Number One

In 1965, the Weizmann Institute in Israel built a new computer and Gershom Scholem, the renowned scholar of Jewish mysticism, pronounced that it should be named ‘Golem Aleph’ [Golem Number One].

At the dedicatory ceremony, Scholem expounded on the commonalities between the ‘Golem of Prague’ and the computer, concluding:

"So I resign myself and say to the Golem and its creator: develop peacefully and don’t destroy the world. Shalom."