It’s a little scary to publish my own understanding of Humanism. Many much finer thinkers than I have certainly done justice to the subject. Still, it seems to me that no philosophy is complete without the individual, often idiosyncratic, interpretation of the holder. So, what follows here is entirely my own opinion. Though I include bits of definitions given by others, this is not intended to be a definition of Humanism.
I label myself a Humanist because my personal views seem to fit best (yet still imperfectly) within that world-view. The three Humanist Manifestos all ring substantially true to me, though I could not sign any of them if it meant my unqualified acceptance of every article. I don’t necessarily agree with everything claimed by other Humanists, nor, I suspect, would they completely accept my views. This is probably a good thing. Dogmatic creeds, after all, do run rather contrary to the spirit of Humanism.
One Overview of Humanism
As ruthlessly condensed by me, Humanism is a philosophy which acknowledges that humans can and should take responsibility for their own lives. We must behave ethically to others, since as social animals our individual well-being is made more secure through the common well-being of all. Humanists use reason, informed by experience, and tempered by compassion as the primary guide to life’s questions. Above all, Humanists assert that every person has an intrinsic dignity and worth, and is entitled to the pursuit of his or her own goals in a well-lived life. Humanists accept that man is an integral part of the natural world, evolved to take his place among the rest of nature. We assert that ethical values are founded upon human welfare, needs and interests, including the need to preserve the natural world that sustains us. Humanists accept that, as social animals, most of life’s meaning is to be found in our relationships with others, and as a consequence we have a duty of concern and care, which properly exercised can increase the world’s measure of peace and prosperity.
That’s a very abridged version, and no doubt there are many who will take issue with how I’ve phrased it, or with what I have omitted. I ask only that you be patient for now, as I elaborate my own, personal Humanism.
Are Humans Really “Special?”
Well, the obvious and frivolous answer first. Humans are special because I’m human – because I deserve care and consideration, then others do, too.
For the religious, it is usually a given that man, created by God, is special for that very reason, and that reason alone. It is in my mind a serious flaw in that view that we are in the form that we are finally meant to be. A Humanist would find this hard to accept, and I certainly do. We must never imagine we are “the end point” of evolution, because evolved we are, and evolution will continue as long as life continues. Nobody alive today, should they be permitted to see many millennia into the future, would recognize their distant offspring as entirely human.
Humanism is not some sort of “speciesism,” which I think a completely religious view of man may be. Most Humanists would recognize that in a natural world (which we accept this to be), every species in some way serves the needs of other species. The Humanist should insist, however, on avoidance of unnecessary cruelty.
But neither of these points speak to our “specialness,” without which Humanism would have no point. I have no time (or ability) to explore the various materialist or dualist philosophies, but what seems clear to me, whether we believe it to be the result of a separate soul or an emergent property of our brains, is that we enjoy a rich, conscious mental life. We have the ability to be aware of our own mental states, to appreciate and evaluate them. And to anticipate! We can look forward, judge our often conflicting desires, and decide whether to act on them or not. I think it is this ability to stand back from and appraise our own mental states, and using that appraisal make plans for the future, that makes humans special in the world. I do not believe, much less know, that any other animal does this to even a remotely comparable degree. It is this, I think, that makes us special. Humans experience hope, faith, love fear, joy, sadness, anticipation, wonder – and feeding these back through our mental processes, develop an almost infinitely rich array of responses.
Are humans special enough to deserve our own –ism? You bet! While perhaps not completely masters of our own destiny, we at least, unlike other animals, have our hands upon the tiller.
Religion
There are branches of Humanism that reject religion absolutely, and propose that, in the words of Protagoras, “Man is the measure of all things.” Indeed, Humanist Manifesto III states, “Humans are an integral part of nature, the result of unguided evolutionary change” and though I personally believe this, I could not swear to it. That is, I affirm with complete certainty that humans have evolved. I am not as certain (although I believe it to be the case) that our evolution was totally unguided. My point is that I don’t think it’s foolish to suppose that there may have been some measure of guidance.
Humanism is not in itself a religious philosophy, but religion is not excluded – at least not from my version. There are certainly self-styled Humanists who are religious, and I don’t think that they are completely antithetical world-views. Even for religious Humanists, the focus is usually pretty much secular because it is on the human, not on the divine. This is certainly true of my version, and from my limited exposure, that of religious Humanists, too. It seems obvious to me that a believer who, when considering matters of importance concerning humans and humanity in general, uses reason and human needs as guide in preference to the divine, can be a Humanist. This is not to deny the divine, but to relegate it to its proper place in personal spiritual reflection.
The supernatural may exist, but as entirely natural creatures in an entirely natural universe, it is closed to us – we cannot perceive it directly, or when we suppose we do, it is indistinguishable from fantasy or hallucination. I am comfortable when people believe. I am less comfortable when believers hope for divine assistance, yet hope is not a bad thing, provided it is supported by actions of our own. I am not comfortable when I am asked to believe, or reviled for not believing.
The key point, with respect to religion, is that my Humanism (like that of most others, I suspect) rejects all religious or supernatural beliefs in understanding or resolving human affairs and dilemmas.
Absolutist “faiths” of every kind, including secular ones such as doctrinaire political –isms, are the primary source of evil in this world. The secular Humanist (and perhaps even the religious one, too) would lump Nazism, doctrinaire Communism, and dogmatically fundamentalist religions together in terms of their capacity to bring misery.
Reason
Humanism must ultimately rely on reason because we are surely ignorant of any divine will, if it exists. “Divine truth,” as it has been variously revealed, is conflicting and confusing – which itself has been the cause of much suffering. As a Humanist, I will insist that, if there is “divine truth,” it applies only to the individual to whom it is revealed. What is revealed to one person cannot be meant to apply to another to whom, in spite of presumably having the power to do so, no deity chose to reveal it.
Now, I am often reminded that reason doesn’t seem to work as effectively as Humanists would like to insist. For example, since The Enlightenment, we have seen the most destructive wars in history. This is true enough. The Enlightenment didn’t create purely rational men, although reason was held in high esteem. As I will show a little further on, humans are incapable of pure reason, pure good, or pure anything. Still, we observe that wars become more destructive not necessarily because we’re more violent, but because we have more technologically powerful and destructive weaponry. (If nothing else, this ought to make us more careful!). And may I further note that, even since The Enlightenment, there has still been plenty of religion around, and it has been no more effective than reason at preventing the horrors of war.
Ethics & Morals
Given the previous section, it seems likely to me that what drives us to war or kindness, and to many other very human follies and triumphs, is completely human – bound up in our very nature – neither rational nor religious. And it is true, Humanism doesn’t assert that “humans are good,” (nor bad) but only that every human has an inherent dignity and worth.
What can it be about our nature that leads to such a dichotomy?
Humans are deeply conflicted. As social animals, we depend utterly upon one another, and as a result share many of the instincts common to other social species. These include following obvious leaders, reciprocal altruism, the need for social approval, etc. But we are not only social – we are thinking and reasoning individuals. We have our own individual needs, and we are frequently willing to default on every social contract in order to satisfy them. This is not “evil” but it may be the source for what the Christian religion calls “original sin.” It is a conflict that does, after all, originate in our very nature – or perhaps I should say “our two natures.”
"Know thyself," said Socrates, not "change thyself."
Humans (and thus their societies) are by their very nature imperfectable. Utopianism – political or social – argues the opposite, and always leads to horror because it is so very wrong in principle.
Our moral sense must be informed by human needs. Dietary laws (don’t eat pork or shrimp, etc.) and most social behaviours are not moral issues. Sexual orientation, early-term abortion, stem cell research, AIDS prevention through condom use, contraception, HPV vaccinations for girls and many more are examples of issues that must be resolved through reference to the human, not to the divine, and through reason rather than superstition.
Our treatment of each other, our behaviours with respect to the well-being of others, are most assuredly moral issues. Anything that has the potential to impact others, directly or indirectly, is a moral issue. Thus, we must respect our neighbour’s property, family, dignity and life. And everyone is our neighbour. This goes so far as to require respect for the entire planet, and any other we might someday visit. Earth, this "pale blue dot" is, as Carl Sagan says, “the only home we know,” and it is our neighbour’s home, too. “Treat this world as if there is no other” says Edward O. Wilson, whatever you may feel compelled to believe about other levels of existence. I don’t think a real Humanist can do otherwise without being hypocritical.
Stories and Meaning
I said earlier that all humans – even secular Humanists – may experience hope, faith and love, and much else besides.
Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime, therefore we are saved by hope. Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; Therefore, we are saved by faith. Nothing we do, however, virtuous, can be accomplished alone. Therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own; therefore, we are saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness.”(Reinhold Niebuhr, The irony of American History)
But note that this is not necessarily religious in tone, though religion would understand the sentiment immediately. Still, secular Humanists would also understand it every bit as well in the context of this world, its past and its future. Humanist spirituality comes as a result of seeing oneself as an integral part of a reality that we cannot fully understand. We can love because of our dependence on others, we can hope because we believe the world will continue and that we will have an impact upon it, we have faith that the world does, after all, make sense, even if it is not guided by an unknown “intelligence.”
We are finite beings in a universe we can’t really even define as “infinite,” it is so far beyond our understanding. We are temporal creatures looking into the bottomless abyss of eternity. Our conscious reason allows no means of understanding what it could mean, in death, to have no consciousness at all. How much more mystery can there be than knowing that the universe, and our existence with it, must remain forever beyond our total comprehension?
Art, music and myth are the preferred delivery vehicles for these “spiritual” notions, since they speak in metaphoric language to our individual experience, and therefore engage not only our reason but our imaginations and deepest feelings – our souls, if you will. We can relate to and internalize stories. Our stories, art, poetry and music, religious and secular, help us to connect to the mystery. That there should have been so many resurrection myths, so many heroic tales and failed heroes to boot, parables and morality plays, comedies of manners and romantic tragedies – all serve to connect us to the ultimately unfathomable business of being human. It is another conundrum of human life that we have too much intelligence to accept our experiences without question, and too little to completely grasp the answers.
Our stories, great and small, important and unimportant, are ultimately woven into the larger story of our kind, providing context and a way to make sense of our lives and the universe in which they unfold. The Humanist doesn’t reject story and myth, for that reason, but will never accept them as literal and historical truth. That (you may believe it or not) would utterly destroy their usefulness.
What Humanism is Missing
As I know it today, Humanism seems to miss those things that humans need to commune with each other, including most important rites of passage, ritual, milestones, charitable out-reach, or affirmation of our Humanist ideals amongst each other regularly and formally. Humanism doesn’t seem to me to really attempt to build the communities and human interconnections, to mark and celebrate the passage of our lives, that religions succeed so well at. I think this is a great failing.
I can’t help but wonder if “freethinking” carries within itself the seeds of its own destruction, the inability to fully commune with others in the way that religions seem to encourage and enable. For what I have described as a very social animal, this is almost certainly a fatal flaw.
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