An Interview with Milan Mór Markovic

by Gordon Nary

Gordon: Tell us about your family when you were growing up.

Milan: I grew up in Bonyhád, a small town in Tolna County in Southwest Hungary, historically part of the so-called “Swabian Turkey,” where Danube Swabian Germans and, after World War II, resettled Székely Hungarians lived side by side. I often heard about the early conflicts between these two communities, but by the time I was young, more and more mixed marriages were taking place, so I witnessed reconciliation with my own eyes. It was fascinating to see how generational grievances form—and how they can slowly heal. My grandparents, caught in the currents of high politics, were conscripted to opposite poles of WWII. Their children—my parents—did not need reconciliation, because they did not choose either side. Seeing that peace is possible even despite the greatest contradictions is not only a fundamental insight of mine about the world, but I also see the path to it: it will only succeed for those who dare to look beyond their everyday world and who are not convinced of their perfect knowledge of justice. As Mark Twain put it: “It’s not what people don’t know that causes trouble, but what they think they know for sure.”

Gordon: When did you attend the Theological College of Pécs, what degree did you earn, and what is one of your favorite memories from your years there?

Milan: To be honest, I visited every religious community I could and read as much as possible about them, but as a teenager, I was enchanted by the Catholic Church. Partly because I found so many scientists and thinkers within it, and partly because of its powerful (if often contradictory) political influence. Since I had not attended a church school before, it never even occurred to me that I should not begin my theological studies at the regional seminary in Pécs. And if I was already there, I decided to prepare for the priesthood, because I thought that was how I could really understand the institution that fascinated me so much. I grew to love it, and discipline was not a problem, but I did experience a certain narrow-mindedness in some formators or teachers, and even then, the seminary system itself felt outdated. My curiosity, however, was stronger, and I tend to persevere in things until doing so becomes irrational.

Gordon: When did you attend Semmelweis University, what degree did you earn, who was your favorite teacher, and why?

Milan: I finished theology, but in my final year, I also studied for a year at the medical faculty and then audited courses for another year. I found the way theology was taught to be very one-sided—there was neither natural science nor religious studies in the curriculum—so I wanted to learn more about the human being. Medicine, in turn, was narrow for me in a different way, but it was very valuable to approach the question of “what a human being is” from a biological perspective. Together with one of my hobbies, I explored parallels between genetic codes and file compression known from computer science. Unfortunately, that research remained within classroom boundaries, and the tuition fees were enormous, so I interrupted those studies. Later, I returned to Semmelweis to complete a Clinical Pastoral Counsellor specialization—an ecumenical, interdisciplinary four-semester program housed at the Institute of Mental Health—where psychologists, psychiatrists and pastors taught us. Although the last year and a half was poorly structured, I learned a great deal from the beginning; graduates essentially became professionals working in the “space” between coaching and psychology. Even if the labor market doesn’t exactly cry out for this degree, I’ve benefited from it immensely since.

Gordon: When did you attend Pázmány Péter Catholic University, what degree did you earn, what was your favorite course, and why?

Milan: After that came three years at Pázmány University’s Institute of Canon Law. Through the introductory blocks of secular legal studies, I studied canon law, which helped me see the Catholic Church’s system and institutions with confidence. Among other things, I realized how contradictory and inconsistent the over-weighted judicial practice dealing with the sacrament of marriage can be. My interest in constitutional law receded into the background, because in Hungary, almost everyone prepares for the ecclesiastical courts to handle marriage cases. In any case, I decided I would not write my doctorate in canon law.

Gordon: Tell us about your time at the Ludovika University of Public Service.

Milan: Since by then I was already a military chaplain, it was evident for my doctorate to pursue military sciences at the University of Public Service (Ludovika). Questions of religion and security were a natural fit for me because of my interest in religious studies. At the same time, my pastoral counselling skills allowed me to help in many ways during overseas missions and in operational areas: whether it was a family problem, the death of a soldier, or even delivering the death notification to the family. Kosovo, Bosnia-Herzegovina and other places offered many encounters in which people of different religions and cultures made a deep impression on me.

Gordon: When and where did you serve as Religious Affairs Officer, and what were your primary responsibilities?

Milan: In the Hungarian Defence Forces, I served as a military chaplain (Religious Affairs Officer) in many units, later on international deployments. My responsibilities ranged from pastoral care and counselling, through crisis intervention and family support, to the most difficult tasks like notifying families of a soldier’s death and accompanying units through grief and moral trauma.

Gordon: When did you serve as a Research Fellow at the Ludovika University of Public Service in Budapest, and what services did you provide?

Milan: During my doctoral studies, I also worked as a researcher in an institute focusing primarily on ethics and the intersection of religion and security. During COVID, I paid attention to several chatbots I already knew, behind which AI was working, and their ethical shortcomings—biased and inconsistent answers—began to concern me. As the topic then affected only a narrow circle, I didn’t publish, delivering only a few talks—usually to very small audiences. As time went by, mainly due to private reasons, I stepped away both from chaplaincy, priesthood and the research-only track, and I started teaching military ethics and religion & security at the university. By 2023, as AI burst into the popular mainstream, many more people became interested in the topic.

Gordon: Please share with our readers an overview of your work in Artificial Intelligence.

Milan: In my lectures, I focus on AI ethics: how to use AI ethically, how programmers should approach language models so that they exhibit ethical characteristics, and how to democratize knowledge through these systems. I emphasize that AI can be a free tutor for disadvantaged learners—something particularly relevant in Hungary, where private tutoring has become very expensive and often decisive for admission to competitive programmes. I am currently developing a military-ethical decision-making simulator (currently under the name of “Major Plato”) to help future soldiers integrate the right value framework and avoid moral injury during their work. I’ve presented this abroad and at home, and a related publication is forthcoming.

Gordon: You currently serve as a Lecturer at the Ludovika University of Public Service. What courses do you teach?

Milan: Military Ethics (Philosophy), like ethical frameworks, decision-making under pressure, and the prevention of moral injury, and Religion & Security Policy, which is analysing the religious dimension of armed conflicts and other security-relevant contexts, including terrorism.

Gordon: What do you enjoy most about your work?

Milan: Teaching motivates me because I have spent 26 years in higher education as a student. I know—firsthand—the advantages and disadvantages, the good and bad teaching attitudes, and the feeling of being mentored and lifted by a professor. I strive to be that kind of teacher, though it matters very much which university you’re at and which students you meet. What works in one group may fail in another. Some students are motivated and hungry for mentorship; others just want the diploma or are focused elsewhere. I try to speak the language of each generation. That’s why I started a blog, then moved to Substack(some posts are in English: https://substack.com/@milanmor), and launched a podcast on spirituality at the borders of science (Lélekfürkész [SoulScout] – available only in Hungarian). And this is why I ventured into LLM-based simulation as well.

Gordon: Poverty is a major problem in many countries. What are the poverty challenges in a country like Hungary?

Milan: I resonate with Pope Francis’s distinctions in Evangelii Gaudium (poor-destitute-wealth). Even the rich can be poor and the poor can be rich. Poor and Deprivation is a severe burden on the world and its institutions—sometimes even their sin. A poor person can be “rich” because, despite owning little, they still possess everything that matters; a rich person can be “poor” because, despite having much, they recognize that it is only a temporary loan, not truly theirs. At the same time, suffering comes from being perpetually hungry and never having enough.

Money is a fictional reality, like a brand name: we attach a price to it, but it is not real in itself. What we buy with it is real matter, but it belongs neither to the seller nor, ultimately, to us. Just as a slave never truly “belonged” to anyone, the illusion was upheld by aggression and institutions. Deprivation is thus the consequence of unjust structures and institutional functioning. Nature challenges us but also protects us, especially if we live in harmony with it. Meanwhile, fictional money provides access to vast resources, and we squander them: we generate incredible amounts of waste, and those who can afford it feel no need to avoid driving everywhere. We idolize success, and with it often comes a private jet and an ecological footprint larger than that of small towns. Of course, low-income people may also lack the awareness of the need to protect nature. If we want to respond meaningfully to poverty in Hungary (and beyond), we need systemic justice, mindful consumption, solidarity, and the creative,equitable deployment of tools like AI in education.

Gordon: Thank you for an exceptional an informative interview.