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particular car against their will.
What’s true of cars is true of all other products. Listen, for example, to
Professor Leif Andersson from the University of Uppsala. He specialises in the
genetic enhancement of farm animals, in order to create faster-growing pigs,
dairy cows that produce more milk, and chickens with extra meat on their bones.
In an interview for the newspaper Haaretz, reporter Naomi Darom confronted
Andersson with the fact that such genetic manipulations might cause much
suffering to the animals. Already today ‘enhanced’ dairy cows have such heavy
udders that they can barely walk, while ‘upgraded’ chickens cannot even stand
up. Professor Andersson had a firm answer: ‘Everything comes back to the
individual customer and to the question how much the customer is willing to pay
for meat . . . we must remember that it would be impossible to maintain current
levels of global meat consumption without the [enhanced] modern chicken . . . if
customers ask us only for the cheapest meat possible – that’s what the
customers will get . . . Customers need to decide what is most important to them
– price, or something else.’
3
Professor Andersson can go to sleep at night with a clean conscience. The
fact that customers are buying his enhanced animal products implies that he is
meeting their needs and desires and is therefore doing good. By the same logic,
if some multinational corporation wants to know whether it lives up to its ‘Don’t
be evil’ motto, it need only take a look at its bottom line. If it makes loads of
money, it means that millions of people like its products, which implies that it is a
force for good. If someone objects and says that people might make the wrong
choice, he will be quickly reminded that the customer is always right, and that
human feelings are the source of all meaning and authority. If millions of people
freely choose to buy the company’s products, who are you to tell them that they
are wrong?
Finally, the rise of humanist ideas has revolutionised the educational system
too. In the Middle Ages the source of all meaning and authority was external,
hence education focused on instilling obedience, memorising scriptures and
studying ancient traditions. Teachers presented pupils with a question, and the
pupils had to remember how Aristotle, King Solomon or St Thomas Aquinas
answered it.
Humanism in Five Images
Humanist Politics: the voter knows best.
© Sadik Gulec/Shutterstock.com.
Humanist Economics: the customer is always right.
© CAMERIQUE/ClassicStock/Corbis.
Humanist Aesthetics: beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. (Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain in a special
exhibition of modern art at the National Gallery of Scotland.)
© Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images.
Humanist Ethics: if it feels good – do it!
© Molly Landreth/Getty Images.
Humanist Education: think for yourself!
The Thinker, 1880–81 (bronze), Rodin, Auguste, Burrell Collection, Glasgow © Culture and Sport Glasgow
(Museums)/Bridgeman Images.
In contrast, modern humanist education believes in teaching students to think
for themselves. It is good to know what Aristotle, Solomon and Aquinas thought
about politics, art and economics; yet since the supreme source of meaning and
authority lies within ourselves, it is far more important to know what you think
about these matters. Ask a teacher – whether in kindergarten, school or college
– what she is trying to teach. ‘Well,’ she will answer, ‘I teach the kids history, or
quantum physics, or art – but above all I try to teach them to think for
themselves.’ It may not always succeed, but that is what humanist education
seeks to do.
As the source of meaning and authority was relocated from the sky to human
feelings, the nature of the entire cosmos changed. The exterior universe –
hitherto teeming with gods, muses, fairies and ghouls – became empty space.
The interior world – hitherto an insignificant enclave of crude passions – became
deep and rich beyond measure. Angels and demons were transformed from real
entities roaming the forests and deserts of the world into inner forces within our
own psyche. Heaven and hell too ceased to be real places somewhere above
the clouds and below the volcanoes, and were instead interpreted as internal
mental states. You experience hell every time you ignite the fires of anger and
hatred within your heart; and you enjoy heavenly bliss every time you forgive
your enemies, repent your own misdeeds and share your wealth with the poor.
When Nietzsche declared that God is dead, this is what he meant. At least in
the West, God has become an abstract idea that some accept and others reject,
but it makes little difference either way. In the Middle Ages, without a god I had
no source of political, moral and aesthetic authority. I could not tell what was
right, good or beautiful. Who could live like that? Today, in contrast, it is very
easy not to believe in God, because I pay no price for my unbelief. I can be a
complete atheist, and still draw a very rich mix of political, moral and aesthetical
values from my inner experience.
If I believe in God at all, it is my choice to believe. If my inner self tells me to
believe in God – then I believe. I believe because I feel God’s presence, and my
heart tells me He is there. But if I no longer feel God’s presence, and if my heart
suddenly tells me that there is no God – I will cease believing. Either way, the
real source of authority is my own feelings. So even while saying that I believe in
God, the truth is I have a much stronger belief in my own inner voice.
Follow the Yellow Brick Road
Like every other source of authority, feelings have their shortcomings.
Humanism assumes that each human has a single authentic inner self, but when
I try to listen to it, I often encounter either silence or a cacophony of contending
voices. In order to overcome this problem, humanism has upheld not just a new
source of authority, but also a new method for getting in touch with authority and
gaining true knowledge.
In medieval Europe, the chief formula for knowledge was: Knowledge =
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