Shap Journal 2004/2005

Shaping the Future

A fog of uncertainty – a humanist peers into the future 

Faced with thinking about the future of Humanism, I reach for my crystal ball and I see… but, stop, I’m a committed sceptic and I know that the future cannot be foreseen, it just happens – as is amply demonstrated by countless market researchers, pollsters, science fiction writers, gamblers, players of the stock market and the intellectuals who celebrated “the end of history” a few years ago. Though we can learn from history and from the present, events too often prove forecasters wrong for me to have much confidence in my predictions. The only safe thing to say seems to be: “Prepare for the unexpected.”

That the world is changing rapidly is clear, but beyond that lies a fog of uncertainty. Can a humanist say anything meaningful about that fog? Or can humanists participate in “shaping” that fog, so that life goes a little bit better than it has in the past? I certainly hope so, because even a cursory glance at the contemporary world reveals much that is alarming: conflict everywhere, much of it religiously inspired; desperate refugees from poverty and oppression seeking asylum in an increasingly inhospitable affluent world; predictions of rapidly escalating global warming, flooding and mass extinctions; political leaders who seem to have faulty moral compasses; medical science apparently on the verge of creating human beings. 

The challenges facing humanity are the ones that humanists must confront. We have a reputation for blind faith in human superiority and progress, but if we ever did – and I think the reputation was never more than partially true – that faith has been sorely tried recently. But we do believe in the potential of science and reason to solve problems and that Humanism as a way of thinking has much to offer – indeed is needed now more than ever. With no allegiance to tradition or authority, but a strong commitment to reason and co-operation and trying to make the world a better place, humanists are well placed to think about new issues and problems and to accommodate change.  Though there are many threats to reason in the world today – such as a growing fear of and cynicism about science, a rise in religious fanaticism, and serious worries about the environment coupled, in most case, with unwillingness to face up to the implications for personal standards of living – it seems to me that only reason and science working within an ethical framework can take us forward. None of these is enough on its own – ethics without the means of improving things is just wishful thinking; reason without empathy and concern for others is a frightening thing indeed, as authoritarian political ideologies have often demonstrated; and science is intrinsically a neutral enterprise that requires responsible steering if it is to be used for the common good.

Let’s consider just a few of the issues currently confronting us and how a humanist might address them. Environmental problems, for example, were first brought to our attention decades ago by scientists, who now warn us with increasing urgency. It is apparent that the whole world cannot live and consume at the same rate as Americans, yet we cannot expect the developing world to put development on hold because it will harm the environment. What can motivate us in the affluent West, to consume less, to travel less, to pay more for the things we do consume, to redistribute energy and resources more fairly, to conserve them more? The slightest hint of rising oil prices, for example, causes protest – and nervous governments retreat. Part of the problem is the short-termism of democratically elected governments, which typically only consider the period up to the next election. A much bigger problem, perhaps, is the short-termism of human beings and our poor understanding of risk: we rarely project further ahead than our children growing up and we are notoriously poor at evaluating risk, often imagining that doing nothing is risk-free, when in fact it might be the worst possible option. Can we really make ourselves care enough about unborn generations or those who live in far away places to make the sacrifices we need to make now if the Earth is to continue to sustain life? Human nature is perhaps against us on the first of these – we can try to imagine future great-great-grandchildren whom we would not want to suffer, but they remain shadowy concepts, not as nearly as real as us, here now with all our desires and needs. Desperate people far away are more imaginable, because we know about and can empathise with them. We know too, if we reason about it, that their problems will become ours if we do nothing – they are the asylum seekers and militias and terrorists of the future, as well as the workers and entrepreneurs who will demand their fair share of the world’s resources. Enlightened self-interest, if nothing else, requires that we take them into account and prepare to share what we have. It also demands that we look intelligently and open-mindedly at technological solutions: GM food crops perhaps; birth control surely; renewable energy, even if it is expensive and inconvenient. And the time is rapidly approaching when we must each take some personal responsibility for the necessary changes, not just rely on governments to do something (and then vote them out when that something is too painful). 

What can be done about the conflicts that currently destabilise the world? One solution that humanists would hope for is a general “privatisation” of religion – not, I know, a popular solution amongst the religious and not, of course, a solution to those conflicts with roots in economic or territorial competition. But the combination of politics or nationalism and religion can be a particularly toxic mix – highly divisive, and highly motivating – and one less reason in the world for attacking one’s neighbours must be a good thing.  Humanists naturally gravitate towards democracy, but are faced with something of a conundrum when democracy leads to theocracy, as it may in the vacuum left in Iraq, and even more of a conundrum in the idea of imposing democracy from outside by force – a contradiction in terms, a rational person would think. We tend to place our hopes in thinking things through, in education, and in international, secular institutions such as the United Nations. Unwieldy and bureaucratic as these institutions can become, it is surely better to talk than to go to war, and to act together than to act alone. This is another area where we must be prepared to spend some money, and sacrifice some national autonomy, in the interests of world peace – enlightened self-interest again, perhaps.

And what of the medical advances, such as cloning and transgenic transplantation, that seem to threaten our very notion of who we are? A humanist would try to weigh up the potential benefits and risks and disadvantages: what harm might be done  to people, animals, the environment? The presumption should not be that greater knowledge and progress are wrong, but neither should society expend resources on technologies of dubious benefit or which benefit only a few at great cost. We are right to be squeamish about progress that involves cruelty, but not be squeamish, as we often are, just because something is unfamiliar. Each instance needs to be considered on its own merits.

For organised Humanism the future looks mixed. Like many voluntary organisations campaigning and offering services to the public, the British Humanist Association (BHA) could work itself out of a role. Much of what we have done in the past has progressed from novel provision for a radical minority into the mainstream: half a century ago British humanists formed their own adoption agency and housing association to provide alternatives to adoption and sheltered housing provided largely by religious organisations; now these are normal social services. The humanist ceremonies pioneered by the BHA have been widely emulated and adopted – by individuals of course, but increasingly by local registrars, commercial companies, and even vicars, offering non-religious weddings, baby-namings and funerals. These developments arise from a recognition of the spiritual needs of the growing numbers of non-religious people in our society and the benefits of serving them. It may be that, in future, specialist humanist ceremonies continue for committed humanists, or they may simply merge into a much bigger and better known public service.

In education there is still much for humanists to do, and I suspect that the BHA will remain the first port of call for non-religious parents wanting advice, until a time when education is sufficiently inclusive and secular for them to have few complaints and problems. Students and teachers, and writers and publishers, wanting to know more about Humanism will depend on us for a while yet, though perhaps in the mid-term, Religious Education syllabuses and text books will do more of this, and we will do less. 

On the lobbying and campaigning side, it is conceivable that we win all our battles: humanists and other non-religious people and organisations will have exactly the same rights and privileges as religious groups – access to Governments, seats in the House of Lords, secular schools, protection from discrimination of grounds of belief…  These are achievable goals – and once achieved, what will we do?

I foresee two long-term needs that will continue. One is our representative function: if the BHA does not speak for the (largely silent) moderate but ethical non-religious masses, who will? The religious are more or less well represented by their spokespersons and leaders – even if they don’t all agree with all their representatives, there are enough of them for most believers to feel they have some public influence. But if the BHA disappeared, a significant number of people would lose their public voice. The second is in the area of “philosophical support”. Of course, education could fill that gap – if all implicit humanists learnt about Humanism and that they too had a coherent ethical philosophy and a history, perhaps there would be less need for this. But like religious believers, humanists enjoy getting together with like minds and feeling they are not alone – and the support systems of humanist organisations, from their newsletters, magazines and websites to their affiliated interest and local groups, offer encouragement and fellowship , satisfying human needs that are unlikely to disappear.

In the short term at least, our main challenge will be too much to do on very slender means. Humanists are only loosely bound to humanist organisations: they are glad we are here when they need us, say for a funeral or for advice, and that we speak up for them in the public arena – but there is no obligation to join or attend anything, or to donate. Humanists, almost by definition, are free-thinkers, not easy to organise, and their Humanism means that are often at least as committed to “good works” and other charities as they are to their philosophy – they are generous but the calls on their time and pockets are many. The BHA appears unlikely to attract public or lottery funding and millionaires usually find other causes more attractive, so our most pressing immediate problems will tend to be financial. Organisations like ours evolve and change according to the needs of our constituencies, and I certainly hope that while so much remains to be done, we will survive and develop. 
In any case, Humanism, which has existed in various forms in various cultures for millennia, will certainly survive, because the humanist world view is widely shared and often arrived at independently (sometimes despite culture and education) through experience and reflection. And I predict that the humanist perspective will remain a useful and valuable one, whatever the future brings. 

Marilyn Mason
Education Officer, British Humanist Association
May 2004