It's a non-standard use of the word, but actually I really have to disagree with you. Genes evolve to meet new demands in response to stimuli. The rate of directed evolution (and conservation) can be measured (and it has been) by comparing large data sets, yielding (for proteins) a ratio between synonymous and non-synonymous mutations. If anything can be considered biological devolution—besides certain Star Trek plots that actually require knowledge of information not stored in the genome (in fact, it would require time travel)—then surely it must be the random mutations inflicted upon genes that are no longer under any selection pressure; i.e. those that do not convey any evolutionary benefit.
Our genome is riddled with such material; only about 9% of the total mass of unique DNA carries information of any importance. Amongst that huge amount of nothingness are many pseudogenes (a broad term describing all sequences with proper starts and stops but aren't expressed) that correspond to functional genes in other, related species. Many animals, for example, have completely lost the ability to process certain foods simply because they didn't need them.
In the future we may very well lose a lot of capabilities to respond to pressure as a result of the absence of selection. I could see the human immune system and genes that support the musculature degrading substantially, for example, to the point that our distant descendants would be severely disadvantaged over athletes of today. This loss of capacity, when considered from the long perspective of the genome, is also a form of devolution, as the species no longer has the ability to respond to dangers as it once did; on a similarly larger scale we'd be less well-suited to handle our ever-changing world. Tens if not hundreds of millions of years of work could very go well the drain in a couple of thousand years of such stagnation.
Technically it's progress, but a cathedral is being demolished.