Bible Translation and the Art of Cave Diving

“But man has only to sink beneath the surface and he is free.” — Jacques Cousteau

When I talk about Bible translation in this blog, I’m specifically referring to what we call Assisted Translation Technology (ATT) in the Lab. In other words: how can we responsibly apply the latest advancements in technology (AI, Agentic AI, Natural Language Processing (NLP), and more) to support and accelerate Bible translation?

I write this blog knowing full well that I have a readership of one—my fellow scuba diver, Mike Toupin. So Mike, this one’s for you.

Let’s start this the way all good cave diving stories begin, with a bit of drama.

Cave diving, at its core, is the art of managing panic. It’s the awareness that if you’re 1,000 feet into a cave (that’s linear penetration, not depth), and panic sets in, you’re in real trouble. Serious trouble. But here’s the secret: managing panic is just managing risk. And once you’ve mastered that (which, surprisingly, isn’t that difficult), what unfolds is something close to transcendent. You find yourself suspended in the silent veins of the Earth, floating weightless through a world few will ever see—exploring not just a cave, but the boundaries of your own courage and curiosity.

So what does it really mean to manage risk when you cave dive? (And no, “Just don’t dive into caves” isn’t an answer.) Surprisingly, there are quite a few overlaps between cave diving and the responsible use of technology in Bible translation. Here are some of them: 

Training Before Discovery

Most cave fatalities occur among divers who were never trained for caves. Not bad divers — unprepared divers. Cave diving does not build upon ordinary scuba training; it rewrites the mental map entirely. You begin again, from scratch, letting go of instincts that once served you and learning new ones that now keep you alive. Formation always precedes exploration.

The same principle applies to Bible translation. In the Lab, when we talk about using advanced technology for translation, we’re really talking about navigating new frontiers. The environment is unfamiliar, and the stakes are high. Like cave diving, it’s not about charging ahead because we can. Instead, it’s about knowing how to move safely, responsibly, and with respect for the environment we’re entering. Before we explore, we prepare. Before we recommend a new innovation for broader use, we test it for proof of concept in multiple contexts.

A Posture of Mutual Safety

“Anyone can call the dive at any time, for any reason.” This is a short sentence, but it carries an entire ethic. Beneath the surface, there is no hierarchy, only mutual responsibility. The quiet agreement is that safety is something we hold for one another. When a diver calls the dive, the team turns with him, without argument. This is what forms a culture of deep trust. Divers can go farther because they dive with confidence, knowing they are supported. 

The same posture shapes the best translation work. Every participant, whether a linguist, technologist, or community leader, holds responsibility for safety and stewardship. Translation, like diving, flourishes where trust is shared.

Wise Redundancy

In the cave diving world, we say: “One is none, two is one, and three is two.” Every essential system assumes failure, not because it’s likely, but because it’s possible. Redundancy is a mindset, not a luxury. You never rely on a single piece of equipment to solve a problem, and you never trust just one path to get you home. A wise diver begins every dive with a margin built in. You plan not because you expect things to go wrong, but so that when they do, you're already halfway to the solution.

No single model, method, or piece of software should ever carry the full weight of translation work. Every tool is part of a larger system that assumes human oversight, community validation, and spiritual discernment. And we know that failure is part of innovating. We aim to fail fast and iterate as we go, learning every step of the way so that we can choose the best paths to get us home.

Capacity Built Slowly and Intentionally

Skill is layered, never stacked. You begin with the basics—breathing, buoyancy, light—until they become instinct. Only then do you add navigation, reel work, communication, and problem-solving. Each layer builds on the last, not to overwhelm, but to embed confidence through repetition and familiarity. This steady, step-by-step approach produces divers who remain calm and can manage complexity without losing awareness or composure.

Complexity becomes manageable not because it disappears, but because muscle memory and mental clarity grow with each habit mastered.

Capacity for translation teams is built over time. Laying the right foundation is a critical first step, and then integration of new tools can be added to the process. This approach ensures that innovation truly serves people. 

The Rule of Thirds

We dive by the rule of thirds: one third of air to go in, one third to come out, and one third held in reserve. It’s not bravery to push limits. A wise diver knows when to turn back, respecting the boundaries that keep you alive. Every deep push inward is calculated with the way home in mind. And we leave reserves not just for ourselves, but for the unexpected. Gear failures, silt-outs, lost visibility. If something goes wrong, we’re prepared.

We carry margin for the people we dive with, for the challenges we didn’t see coming, and for the changing conditions we cannot control.

This kind of margin is significant in Bible translation work too. For us, innovation isn’t about pushing to the limits of what’s possible, but about creating space for people, languages, and the Spirit to breathe. We plan not just for efficiency, but for endurance. 

A Lifeline You Need 

In cave diving, a guideline is laid from the start, running from open water into every passage we explore. It isn’t optional; it’s the lifeline that leads back to the surface. When visibility drops and everything turns to confusion, that thin strand becomes everything. You can’t see it—you just reach for it. The moment your hand finds it, you’re no longer lost. The line offers the quiet assurance you need. Just stay connected to it. 

In Bible translation, our lifeline is God Himself. His steady presence anchors us when the work grows complex and the way ahead seems uncertain. Technology may guide or accelerate, but only God leads us home.

---

Martyn Farr, the British cave diver who wrote The Darkness Beckons, describes cave diving as something that pulls you forward by curiosity. There is always the invitation of what might be around the next corner. It is an instinct toward discovery, not danger—toward wonder, not fear.

As 2033 approaches, we need that same spirit in Bible translation. We’re not just finishing tasks or deploying tools, but exploring what the Lord might reveal through collaboration and technology. The unknown isn’t a threat. It’s an invitation drawing us deeper into God’s story. 

---

For those still reading—and curious to witness the beauty and poetry of cave diving—I’ve included a video of Pan’s Labyrinth, a stunning section of Dan’s Cave in the Bahamas.