W.H. Auden: We must love one another or die.
"Humanism" is—well, more precisely, "humanisms" are philosophies that (in Wikipedia's telling) "emphasize the value and agency of human beings, individually and collectively." The dreaded and much maligned (by religious conservatives) "secular humanism" also emphasizes "critical thinking and evidence (rationalism and empiricism) over acceptance of dogma or superstition." Of course, both rationalism and empiricism can be applied dogmatically, and "superstition" is merely an argumentative term when applied to religious or spiritual beliefs.
In any case, there also exists such a thing as "Christian humanism," also known sometimes as "personalism" or, in Jacque Maritain's terminology, "integral humanism"; the clear distinction between this and other humanisms is, obviously, its reliance upon Christian faith and doctrine, most fundamentally faith in the Christian God. On the other hand, and atheist that I am, it is my contention (or at least my hope) that a kind of "integral humanism" can be crafted that is not dependent on such faith, but on the notion of "transcendence" as itself "integral" to the human condition and to human flourishing.
First, let me briefly sketch what Jacques Maritain (in his THE TWILIGHT OF CIVILIZATION) had to say about the Christian brand of humanism. Maritain began with a simple enough statement:
"Humanism tends essentially to render man more truly human and to manifest his original greatness by enabling him to partake of everything in nature and in history capable of enriching him."
Maritain then distinguished secular humanism from the Christian variety; the former, he said, replaced "an open human nature and an open reason, which are the only true nature and the only true reason, [with] a nature and a reason isolated in themselves and shut up in themselves, each of them exclusive of whatever is not itself." In a similar phrasing, he accused non-Christian humanism of "affirming human nature as closed in upon itself or absolutely self-sufficient."
To what did Maritain believe human nature ought to be open? To the transcendent: that is, to God and to the Gospel of Christianity, to "supra-rational truths" and to "the whole universe of the infra-rational, of instincts, of obscure tendencies, and of the unconscious, with all its malicious and even demonic, as well as fertile, implications..." According to Maritain, leaving all that out, while attempting to reduce human nature to reason alone, would involve "real and very serious amputations." He insisted that humanism had to include "the life of the spirit" as well as "a deep concern for the masses [and] for their right to the necessary means to existence."
Maritain was writing in the latter days of World War II. Communism, Fascism, Nazism, and the Great Depression had all highlighted, in various ways, "the problem of the masses," a problem which Maritain said had only two possible solutions:
Either, counting on the natural misery of man, you will endeavor to transform that great human reality which is termed "the people" into robots, kept in good working order by means of collective techniques, and into immense throngs—illusioned, standardized, poisoned with hate and lies—of slaves who believe themselves happy: this is the totalitarian solution.
Or taking into account the energies which man receives from regions superior to him as well as the strength of his spirit, you will seek to swing open for those masses a gateway to a life and a liberty truly worthy of the human person and its calling. This is Christian humanism's solution [and] it must assume the task of a profound transformation of the temporal order and must tend to substitute for a mercantile civilization, for an economy based upon the fertility of money, not a collectivist economy, but a "personalist" civilization and economy, through which there would pass a temporal refraction of the evangelic truths.
Nothing in the above passage need raise the hackles of an atheist, though "regions superior to him" will have to be somehow translated.1 Even the reference to "evangelic truths" can be accepted; though Maritain was clearly referring to the Christian gospel, humans by and large seek to "evangelize" about (or to bear witness to or to testify regarding) whatever they believe to be true, and in particular about "the truths that matter most". If a non-theistic integral humanism can be developed, I for one will unapologetically evangelize it from the rooftops.
Maritain then drew a line between the redemptive ideal of "love of neighbor" and the existing "sovereignty of hate":
Modern civilization...today is paying the price of a very costly past [and] appears to be in the process of being shoved, by the self-contradictions and fatalities by which it is torn, towards contrasting forms of misery and aggravated materialism. In order to overcome this wretched destiny there is need for an awakening of liberty and its creative forces. There is need for the energies of a spiritual and social resurrection, and these cannot be given to man by the grace of the State nor of any party pedagogy, but only by a love which fixes the center of his life infinitely higher than the world and temporal history. In particular, the widespread paganizing of our civilization results in men placing their hopes in strength alone and in the efficacy of hatred, at the very moment when, in the eyes of an integral humanism, only a political ideal of brotherly friendship can direct the work of true social regeneration...in order to prepare a new age for the world, it is possible that at the outset martyrs be necessary to the cause of love of the neighbor.
Maritain cited the theories of Carl Schmitt regarding the prevailing basis of political community:
It consists essentially of the relationship "with the friend, against the enemy" [and] it is fundamental to the political community to come into existence against someone. It is the principle of ourselves "against the other," or of constitutive enmity. For [such] politics...hatred of the enemy, within and without, on the part of the community, flows concurrently and from the same impulse as love for the community itself. This hatred is inseparably joined to such a love. It is as old as the community itself. Only in constituting itself and on condition of its constituting itself against an enemy, does the political community know truly with whom it is constituting itself. It is in constituting itself and by constituting itself to crush the others that the State knows who are its faithful. It is the sovereignty of hate [under which] the summit of political intelligence lies in the ability to discern the foe.
It was Maritain's belief that only Christianity could overcome "the sovereignty of hate," and that "integral humanism" depended on avoiding a descent into anthropocentrism—an ideology in which "man alone, and by himself alone, works out his salvation". Opposed to that was Maritain's notion that true humanism means "the discovery of a more profound and real sense of the dignity of the human person. As a consequence, man would rediscover himself in God rediscovered, and would direct social work toward an heroic ideal of fraternal love conceived, not as a spontaneous return of sentiment to some illusory primitive state, but as a difficult and painful conquest of the spirit, as a work of grace and virtue."
Rediscovering God, however, may not be a simple task—if there is no God to discover. If that were the case, who or what could then take the place of "God" in a humanist system? Or would any non-theistic (secular) humanism inevitably degenerate into anthropocentric self-deification and an ongoing "sovereignty of hate" and a war of all against all?
I think the answer lies in the concept of "transcendence," understood properly. Over the centuries and in the Christian West, "transcendence" has been burdened with religious and theistic implications which do not come close to exhausting all the possibilities of the term, and which in fact limit and bias our understanding of those possibilities. "Transcendence" actually means "Existence or experience beyond the normal or physical level; surpassing or exceeding ordinary experience; transcending the universe or material existence". Nothing in those definitions presupposes God or belief in God, much less a personal God.
By detaching "transcendence," then, from the idea of God or of a supposedly "supernatural" realm, we can use it instead as the foundation of an "integral" humanism: that is, a humanism that integrates and speaks to both material and non-material (call them "spiritual" if you like) needs, that satisfies our existential yearnings, our need for meaning and for belonging, and that inspires us to live not out of fear and hatred of the "other" but out of love, compassion, and generosity.
What is it, after all, we are supposed to "transcend"? Is it the human condition, the material world, or mortality? Is it (as Christians traditionally have claimed) our sinful nature, inherited via Original Sin? Or is it our selfishness, our fears, and our insecurities? If the latter, then it is at least theoretically possible to transcend such failings without divine intervention—a good thing, certainly, in a world where divine intervention seems hard to come by and even harder to count upon.
What we need to transcend is nothing less than our notion of the autonomous individual self, which is, despite our attachment to it, a self-serving and self-aggrandizing fiction. The reality is that we exist only through and with others; our very survival at birth and for months afterwards depends on others, and our identities are constantly shaped and reshaped by interactions with others. We are creatures of nurture as much as of nature, and human nurture includes culture, culture being a collective human achievement over centuries and millennia. All of which is to say, again, that the self is constituted by others and is never in any real sense "individual": every "I" is part of a "we".
In transcending the fiction of an isolated, self-made self, we will also transcend notions of isolated self-interest; we belong to our families, our neighborhoods, our towns and cities, our nations, and the human race. We exist through them and for them; their interests are our interests and vice-versa. We must all flourish together or we cannot flourish separately: that, at least, is the attitude we must cultivate.
What else can we possibly transcend? We can transcend the quotidian and the mundane in favor of the exquisite and the scintillating, thereby favoring quality over quantity, the intangible over the measurable. We can transcend the cash nexus in favor of the human nexus. We can transcend our petty rivalries, our jealousies, our chauvinisms, our xenophobia; we can transcend our short-term thinking in order to connect ourselves to the longer arc of human history and human possibility, to the past and the future alike. We can transcend greed in favor of generosity, revenge in favor of forgiveness, violence in favor of nonviolence.
There is, in other words, no shortage of things for us to transcend. An "integral humanism" need not rely on "God" for a transcendent dimension; it need only aim at transcending our worst impulses in favor of the better angels of our nature. An atheist humanism can still invoke "an heroic ideal of fraternal love"; it can still call us to "a difficult and painful conquest of the spirit" and to "work[s] of grace and virtue." All of that would be more than enough to occupy us, and it should be more than enough to inspire us as well.
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1 Humanist translation: "energies man receives from regions superior to himself" simply becomes "energies individuals receive from outside themselves, from each other, from the past and from the dreams of a better future".
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