How to Make Love to a Humanist

Of the multitudes of ideas men have created, perhaps no other has been more influential (or controversial) than humanism. In its history, some of the most intelligent and noble ideas have been thought by men who have numbered themselves in this tradition, as well as the most benighted and ignorant of people. Considering myself a humanist, it may be well if I clarified this mystifying term, so frightening to so many in the American public. Afterwards, I’ll explain why it, humanism, is so crucial for understanding our world.

First, I quote one of the 20th century’s eminent philosophers, Antonio Gramsci, who, I believe, summed up the humanist credo well. Gramsci, a man who was imprisoned most of his adult life in the northern Italian state of Salo for his beliefs by Mussolini’s regime, and who never saw any of his work published, said, famously, that people must maintain a “pessimism of the intellect and optimism of the will.” What does Gramsci mean? He is advocating, simply, a sentiment, not a belief, that would befit men to best confront the problem of despair and inertia, which has dogged people the world over, throughout history, and has rendered many helpless, more particularly, by cynicism. People, he argues, must assume that the worst that could happen if they weren’t to act is guaranteed; however, by exerting their will to change their conditions for the better, people must assume their actions will affect a positive change. In this sense, action becomes, for the philosopher, an act more moral than thoughts and values for their own sake. So, for instance, if I studied heavily for an algebra exam, and I was certain that I would still fail, I would resolve to take the test anyway; the reason is because, if I didn’t take the test, my failure would be guaranteed, whereas if I took it, I either would pass the test or have the satisfaction of knowing I didn’t cower before the anticipation of taking it.
Gramsci’s idea, for me, is emblematic of the humanistic philosophy. This concept, like all humanism, is intended to give moral leverage to the individual, which, in turn, implies a greater need for, on the one hand, personal responsibility, and on the other, more obligation to one’s community. We can no longer deify the cult of reason, for the simple reason that civilization’s barbarism and vulgarity, so obvious to us all now, must figure into any serious assessment of human behavior.
However, there are plenty incidences that one can point to in which people don’t act like skull-splitting, blood-drinking barbarians. The Loyalist movement in Spain, which lasted from 1936 to 1939, has long been used as an example by anarchists and libertarian socialists as proof of the viability of anarchism, with good reason. George Orwell wrote memorably of the large communal societies that were established throughout Spain, in “Homage to Catalonia.” Orwell, a British socialist, fighting on behalf of the independent cause and describing the war-torn conditions around him, wrote that, though he didn’t understand everything in this society or even didn’t like many aspects of it, added that he couldn’t help but to behold what the Loyalists had accomplished and admire it. He returned to this region several months after his first visit, when the entire area had been crushed, usurped by Franco and his Felangist regime.
Orwell’s experience, and Gramsci’s, are a source of deep inspiration to me. They prove that, in the midst of insurmountable chaos, sadism, and unspeakable brutality, people can somehow maintain a semblance of reason and accomplish important things that may be beheld as example of moral behavior for other generations. I don’t believe humanism is strictly reserved for leftists or atheists, much for the same reason that I don’t see morality and piety as merely the apple of a right-winger’s eye. We are talking about humans and human values, after all, which can leave endless space for second-guessing and hairsplitting, on anything we could possibly choose to discuss. I don’t have space to attack that mammoth here. If, however, I were asked what I think all humanists share in common, I’d answer, they all agree that the common good is somehow reliant upon a balance between individual and communal security; that people, unlike property, are moral vehicles, and as such ought to be guarantors of certain rights, and; as many telling things can be determined about someone by the work they do, the quality of work must be improved as much as possible, which would in turn, presumably, improve the general value of life in the country.