In response to Babu Gogineni and Levi Fragell pondering the future of humanism

Andrzej Dominiczak*

I am not a believer, in any sense of the word. I do not believe in the human rational potential, nor do I believe in freedom, dignity or human rights. I do not believe-I know! I know that rational thinking provides the best possible way of understanding the universe and the best way of understanding human life-social and individual. I also know that it provides the best methods of solving human problems and the best tools for planning progress towards a happier future. As regards freedom, dignity and human rights, I believe they constitute the necessary preconditions for an organization of the human world in which 'human potential is realized for the benefit of both individuals and the community at large'. I know and I understand, but I do not claim that this knowledge and understanding are of a scientific character. They are, however, based on the same principles of cognition on which the scientific method has been built. Time and time again, they have been verified so conclusively that they should at least be granted the status of 'instrumental knowledge' that could form a solid basis and justification for our actions. Despite these apparently rationalistic claims, the humanism I advocate is equally passionate and fired by a strong will. As a philosophy of freedom and as an ethical system that gave rise to the idea of dignity for all, humanism must be vigorously involved in the defense of rights and liberties and it must be wrathful always, when people are humiliated or enslaved by others. I do not, however, share the opinion that 'the humanism of this century has to be an angry humanism'. If we truly are the children of reason we should simply be more flexible: angry when necessary, compassionate if need be, open to dialogue when both sides share goals and values, and ironic-in the sense ascribed to this concept by Richard Rorty-to prevent our community from stagnating and becoming excessively moralistic.

Scrutinizing science and religion

Should humanism be concerned with cosmological questions about the origins of the universe? Is it true, as Babu Gogineni asserts, that humanism is nothing if it is not a continuous interrogation about our universe and our place in it? No! We should not try to answer every question. Here lies one of the many differences between humanism and religion with its totalitarian tendency to embrace all aspects of human life. Scientific questions should be left to scientists. Of course, we must use their findings to deepen our understanding of the world and improve the quality of our lives-but not without some kind of scrutiny. Despite our full support for the ideal of scientific inquiry, we must not create a religion of science. Particularly, we should not worship science as a social institution, as it is often a victim of the same common fallacies as we all are, or of the fallacies created by its own specific culture. As Bertrand Russell once said:

'University life is so different from life in the world at large that men who live in an academic milieu tend to be unaware of the preoccupations and problems of ordinary men and women. [...] Academic institutions, therefore, useful as they are, are not adequate guardians of the interests of civilisation.'

Indeed, there are good reasons not to abstain from criticizing science-but on no account should we refrain from criticizing religion. Humanism, despite widespread misconceptions, has nothing in common with religion although it is true, as Fragell points out, that we are concerned with the same kind of 'deeper' questions as traditional religion. 'I do not think, however, that it is the pursuit of truth that is most important to us, not its possession'. Humanists are just as interested in possessing truth as the religious. Humanists, however, know that the only way to truth leads through collective scientific pursuit. What we really reject, in clear opposition to the religious, is the illusion of 'absolute truth'-a dangerous and powerful concept, as it appeals to people's most intrinsic need to make sense of life, and thus offers a handy tool for those who seek control of our way of thinking. The principal difference between humanism and religion lies in the 'methodology of inquiry'. We refer our 'deep questions' to ourselves, while the religious ask their supernatural authorities-or rather their self-appointed, earthly representatives. We expect the answers to be based on evidence obtained in fully controlled conditions, to be coherent, to be double or triple checked-whereas they accept them merely by virtue of faith. What makes the method of religion particularly pernicious, however, is its aversion to doubt-the first source of free inquiry. The faithful are not allowed to raise doubts because most deities for some reason find them highly offensive. Humanists, on the contrary, are obliged to question any findings, to verify any claims and to look for better theories providing more reliable answers to their 'deeper' questions.

Why close the door?

In the paragraph devoted to deepening our identity, Babu Gogineni says that humanist groups should be open only to humanists, because 'we have shared objectives to pursue and common goals to attain'. Fair enough, but what about those faithful who declare their full support for our goals and objectives? Over the years, we have been approached by a number of religiously minded people who expressed a wish to join our organization. They agreed with our 'declaration of values', thus meeting our operational definition of a humanist, as being anyone who entirely accepts its content. Why should we close our doors to them and how could we justify this decision? We finally invited them into our association-on condition, however, that they did not believe in Hell. In our opinion the idea of eternal punishment is more incompatible with the humanist worldview than a vague need for the sacred from which they seemed to suffer. What at first was meant to be a semi-humorous, provisional solution, in the course of time turned into standard practice, particularly when we realized that our activities were not in any way hindered by the presence of the religiously-minded in our midst. On the contrary, they even supported some highly controversial projects that were finally rejected by the majority of the 'genuine' humanists. They backed the proposal to launch a humorous campaign to clone the Pope, and supported a project to file a motion with the Constitutional Tribunal to outlaw the Catholic Church as an institution clearly practicing and supporting discrimination against women and sexual minorities. I do not claim that this is an ideal solution for all. I simply want to say that we should avoid the tendency to adopt seemingly obvious, rigid solutions where more subtle, creative and friendly solutions might be possible.

Be more creative!

Generally speaking, it is the shortage of creative solutions, creative thinking and creative vision that I miss most in both contributions. If we really want to grow our 'humanist elephant', we need more courageous and visionary thinking, which in my opinion is as important as 'optimism of will', and probably more important than a better name for our international organization. The creativity that I have in mind should mostly take the form of concrete, spectacular projects that would appeal to people's imagination, hopes and hearts. This is not meant to diminish the role of programs aimed at meeting basic human needs, for life-cycle ceremonies or for care services during life crises, whose importance is so convincingly shown by Levi Fragell. It is merely a suggestion about how to enrich our philosophy and politics. Levi Fragell ponders why the rapidly growing number of unbelievers in the world does not lead to a proportional growth of the humanist movement. He submits that many idealists and humanists who feel obliged to support our work do not join the humanist movement because the world is full of good causes, and many humanists may feel that we have not always chosen the most essential ones. Fragell believes that many of those who lost their faith replaced their religion with some kind of subtle secular morality and a strong sense of social solidarity. I am afraid that this picture is far too bright. It is rather moral and social indifference that prevails among the new unbelievers. What today's believers as well as unbelievers expect from life is rudimentary excitement and satisfaction derived from defeating their neighbors in a global game of 'win or lose'. This is the main reason that millions of unbelievers do not join the humanist movement or any other movement. They do not care, either about humanism, or about any other 'ism'. In my view, it is this moral and philosophical apathy and nihilism that we must be ready to challenge in the future if we really want to replace faith and obedience with reason and compassion.

What about suffering and happiness?

Lastly, I would like to refer briefly to 'suffering' and 'happiness', two basic forces in our lives that are almost entirely ignored by both writers. Contemporary humanism has been based on the idea of the inherent dignity of all members of the human family. The emotional dimension of human life, however, somehow escaped our attention, although, as compassionate naturalists, we can't simply deny the importance of joy and pain as universally understood experiences shared by all people. The concept of dignity in its modern sense is rarely understood and in fact has been rejected by many philosophers as a notion devoid of meaning. I don't agree with this view (the social sciences tell a lot about human dignity), but there is no doubt that we have not yet succeeded in devising a satisfactory definition of dignity. Furthermore, the humanist and religious concepts of dignity are entirely incompatible, the former having been derived from the concept of human cognitive and moral autonomy, while the latter, on the contrary, arises from the lack of any intellectual or moral independence. This is not to say that we should abandon speaking of dignity altogether, but we should be aware of its deficiencies and of the difficulties arising from its confused sense and status. To understand suffering and happiness we need no words at all. Not even Christianity has succeeded in corrupting their meaning, although it created a whole mythology to justify its perverted and politically motivated ethics of suffering as a positive value, and happiness as a posthumous promise for the meek. Indeed, it is this morality of slaves that has been the main cause of human misery throughout the ages. Humanists must never forget this basic truth, and must never cease to speak about human suffering and happiness, while pursuing their intellectually more sophisticated goals.

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* Andrzej Dominiczak (1954, Poland) is founding member and President of the Polish Humanist Association and Co-President of the Polish Humanist Federation. He is a member of the editorial board of the Polish humanist quarterly Bez Dogmatu ('Without dogma'), where he writes about humanism, human rights, society and politics. He also works as a translator and as a 'philosophical therapist'.

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International Humanist and Ethical Union 1952-2002
Past, present and future
Bert Gasenbeek and Babu Gogineni (eds.)
Copyright © 2002 by De Tijdstroom uitgeverij.
Republished 2006 at http://www.iheu.org with permission
ISBN 90 5898 041 3 nur 730, 740
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