Practical humanism...

"It is of no particular interest that one man is quite happy to lie in behalf of a cause which he knows to be unjust; but it is significant that such events provoke so little response in the intellectual community—for example, no one has said that there is something strange in the offer of a major chair in the humanities to a historian who feels it to be his duty to persuade the world that an American-sponsored invasion of a nearby country is nothing of the sort."

- The New York Review of Books, "The Responsibility of Intellectuals" by Noam Chomsky (February 23, 1967)

DISCUSSING the Vietnam War, the Responsibility of Intellectuals is the epitome of Professor Noam Chomsky's political attitude. Under no ideological delusion and, furthermore, discussing the matter plainly and uncompromisingly, the response to American atrocities in Vietnam and the manipulation of the intellectual and media community is a forthright assertion of humanistic principles, and is the foreword to subsequent pleas in Chomsky's prolific discussion of political events for community-level discussion of political events.

Chomsky is the ideal humanist and with a broad understanding of incipient enlightened ideas (a more thoroughgoing understanding of the writings of Adam Smith than many economists could lay claim to) and a sweeping historical perspective attuned to political subtleties, he is the voice of more than a single generation of thwarted attempts to human equality and shared dignity. The reader might remark that he is being aggrandized overzealously here, but it is merely the truth. There is, of course, a current tradition of intellectuals whom share in common humanist principles and ideals of grassroots change and media overhaul, and yet these characters will not be overemphasised unduly either. The reality is that, though people are discussing the overall situation and saying things much better than they have said before, it is inadequate for the species' purposes.

Humanism has, since the era of the enlightenment (a dubious era streaked with compromise and censorship), has developed into a primarily cultural phenomenon with limited practical consequence. This is in large part due to the mechanisation of society, the more tightly conceptualised understanding of time, and the social outlook of a vast majority of the Western human species. Media distribution is kaleidoscopic, and to carve an interesting image, akin to the many fragments of light breaking from Issac Newton's optical experimentation is the eighteenth century. At first their are straight lines and easily distinguished colours, then the colours begin to expand into minute variations, and- expansion after expansion- the lights soon begins to be perceived in particle form, as unstable rivulets in space and time. The perception becomes so overwhelming that the fact that all particles or waves (or something different altogether) are interwoven in this broad space. They inform each other, and in their tapestry create a perceptible and comprehensive whole.

“Everything you've learned in school as "obvious" becomes less and less obvious as you begin to study the universe. For example, there are no solids in the universe. There's not even a suggestion of a solid. There are no absolute continuums. There are no surfaces. There are no straight lines.”
- Richard Buckminster Fuller


The metaphor is put into terms of human thought; the language and expression, and means of reasoning are cultivated in laboratories and refracted through human consciousness, only to be intercepted by others who take the process and push it outwards to its last limits, finally discovering that they are isolated and have lost sense of connectivity. Consider the many means by which humanity perceives itself; through history, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, economics, theology. All are vastly interconnected and, stemming from the universe, based upon and already established natural framework. However, the recognition of this possible dialogue and interdependence fades as the different perspectives gain in that singular clarity, which is the deceit of human reason.

Now, if the reader allows for reflection at this point: what language does he make use of, and where are the limits to his horizons? If the answer is that they are limitless, then this is both positive and negative. The attitude should be considered, and mutable. There should not be an answers if not as part of continuous dialogue, for that is the nature of life, and not isolated speculation. As the universe expands, human dialogue must expand, for that is the natural course our species has been given to follow. If our species refuses to admit the possibility of change and compromise, it denies the nature of life. If it requires for matter and time to be explained by means of straight lines and mathematical equations, it is similarly limited in judgement. It is in considered application of these understandings, in conversation over human issues on which our species depends. It the horizon can be caught, then as a whole what lies behind it is forgotten. When a species pushes to the limits of its understanding through reason rather than being involved in a process of being, the new-found knowledge is redundant; the consequences of such new realms of awareness are equally at rish of being mainpulated to the neglect of the species as a whole (consider the development of nuclear energy).

The role of the humanists, those students of life who ought to reside within the national universities but are sometimes found elsewhere, is to develop a community of interwoven awareness of the threats imposed upon the species. In creating a community that serves as a conscience that is opposed to the neglect of humanitarian issues, which involves the treatment of habitat with more adequate judgement, the social issues of contemporary society could be addressed, and the purpose of studying the humanities at university level and beyond not made redundant. The accumulation of knowledge at this very moment in time tends to inform a select few, those who specialise in very particular realms of human conscience (the concern for economic issues, the concerns for the preservation of accurate human histories...). In so creating this limited and largely uncommunicative selection of humanist scholars, the media of our societies can forthwith select by preference the attitude which most accomodates status quo and establishes the normative social attitudes.

Jonathan Swift's criticism of human intellect when taken out of its practical sphere is appropriate here, as ever. In his depicition of the land of Laputa in his celebrated "Gulliver's Travels" (1726), and his metaphor of towns being built in the sky (out of connection with realities below) is a scathing reprimand to the scholars who hoard knowledge but do not use it to any purpose. It is a fault of intellectuals that realities are understood but not met, but that is not- as has been eslablished earlier- their fault entirely.

But this limitation is primarily the error of the people who live amongst societies where this blindness exists; in having little curiosity for the fate of the species as a whole, and in being quite able to establish paths of their own which appear individual and disconnected, they function effectively to preserve an unintelligent use of wisdom and lack of general conscience. In allowing governments to be the host of a limited dialogue compromised by personal interests in preserving the way things are, the necessarily adaptable nature of the humanities is forgotten and as the dialogue amongst governments is so miniscule by comparison to the expansive nature of the human species, and the ever-expanding crises it faces. It is simply inadequarte, and it is a question posed to the psychology of the greater number of people: is the situation worthy of a greater discussion, or is it worth leaving to the sort of governments that are strained as it is by the pressure of a world that expands far beyond the perceived realities of the countries it represent.

Upon reading Alain de Botton's eloquent philosophical commentary "How Proust Can Change Your Life" one is struck by the eloquence of the final chapter "How to Put Books Down". One is suddenly reassured in the closing passages of the dignity but also the futility of reading; in the process of reading one understands himself, but one is also displaced from certainly realities which cannot be expressed by reading. Reading is akin, argues de Botton, to taking honey from a vessel; it is not fully understood where the honey came from and what sort of struggle was made to obtain it, what sort of active community, continous dialogue, and reciprocity with nature. It is an awakening process, but only if the ideas within are discussed, and made use of. Otherwise, the hand digs deeper into the honey pot, lazily enjoying the fruits of generations of labour without reflection. The society of today is not short of honey, but it is sadly lacking in that community of workers that make it, each taking respectiveroles for the benefit of the whole. This is a traditional communist metaphor, the reader might remonstrate uneasily- agreed, but it is also a truth which this writer has learned.


 It is not just about the honey, either; it is about making it, and the life-giving process that ensues in that wonderful botanical harmony of events; the pollination of flowers and plants. Without a humanist community acting to represents human interests and cross-pollinate between itself, the tradition becomes sterile. A sterile flower is a redundant flower; it offers no prospects of life, and serves as a leading example for our species to take after nature in this respect. As our reckless endeavour to consume our own honey continues, and as we lead ourselves downwards along a path that speaks against nature, the delicate processes of a nature which has subsisted us are beginning to diminish. Wisdom lies in redeeming our humanists from a process that is not living, and not nearly able to address the issues that its name entails. It is a crises which needs to be met, before our species forgets that to have a conscience is to survive, and to evoke mutual learning or pollination.

"Education at school continues what has been done at home: it crystallizes the optical illusion, consolidates it with book learning, theoretically legitimizes the traditional trash and trains the children to know without understanding and to accept denominations for definitions. Astray in his conceptions, entangled in words, man loses the flair for truth, the taste for nature. What a powerful intellect must you possess, to be suspicious of this moral carbon dioxide and with your head swimming already, to hurl yourself out of it into the fresh air, with which, into the bargain, everyone round is trying to scare you!”

- Alexander Herzen

The words of the Russian philosopher Alexander Herzen are more than adequate to close this advocation of a more practical form of learning in the humanities. The ideal mode of learning is to both be and do; to reflect your thoughts as actions, and compose your actions into thoughts which can henceforth be shared. Human life can be dignified and alighned with the course of nature, but the mode of learning and the way humans interact must be altered for this to happen. Discussion, the use of language and the understanding of fellow students of life, even at an early stage is an integrity in education which is being slowly lost sight of in favour of a specialism which can easily serve the wrong purposes. In this era of humanity in which students are able to study on a vast level and communicate ideas more than was ever possible, the most essential aspect is being lost: an informed community. If we can trust the idea of a cultural hegemony (the sharing of broad based understanding on a large scale) and the ability of those who study the humanities to really inform our society on important decisions in the upcoming years, this writer believes that practical humanism will act as that universal conscience which has been so lacking for some time.