What is Humanism?

by Tom Krattenmaker

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New Wine colleague, Tom Krattenmaker, accepted my invitation to write a series of posts on humanism. The aim is to help Christians learn how to engage and build better relational bridges with humanists (what I often refer to as secular humanism in contradistinction to Christian humanism). This is the first post in his series for New Wine titled “What is humanism?” You can find out more about Tom’s work at his website here. Tom Krattenmaker is a prolific author who focuses on religion in public life. One of his volumes is Confessions of a Secular Jesus Follower: Finding Answers in Jesus for Those Who Don’t Believe (Convergent, 2016). The book was hailed as one of the top two religion books of the year by the Religion News Association. We are most grateful for Tom’s friendship and irenic and keen engagement of religion and the public square.

–Paul Louis Metzger, PhD, Director of The Institute for Cultural Engagement: New Wine, New Wineskins

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Among many Christians, humanism is prone to misunderstanding. Part of the problem is that the meaning of “humanism” changes depending on context. The term meant something different in the past, when it was by and large a Christian concept, than it does today, when it is usually associated with secular people and secular organizations like the American Humanist Association (AHA).

This brief reflection will focus on the latter, also known as secular humanism. (Those interested in learning more about Christian humanism will find abundant resources, like this and this.) What the AHA means by humanism is decidedly nonreligious. Contrary to a commonly heard critique, humanism is not about the worship of humanity. As nonreligion, it does not worship anything or anyone. But it does elevate, to a high level, a set of values and even beliefs about human wellbeing and human responsibility.

At the late, great Yale Humanist Community, we had a saying that went like this: “There’s more to being nonreligious than what you don’t believe.” What is that “more”? The humanism we espoused went a long way toward answering that question. For a clear articulation of secular humanism, I recommend the humanist manifesto, which you can find here.

When you read it, you might be struck by its materialist orientation; for example, the assertion that knowledge is derived by empirical means and that ethics emerge from human need and experience, rather than a supernatural or divine source. These are examples of ways that today’s secular humanism diverges from orthodox Christian belief.

Other parts of the manifesto might strike you as potential bridges between Christians and humanists. As a (secular) follower of Jesus, I hear echoes of the “abundant life” promised by Jesus when I read the manifesto’s references to living life “well and fully.” The manifesto’s references to compassion and justice might also resonate with Christians. And its assertion of the inherent worth and dignity of every person is a near-perfect match for Christians’ belief in Imago Dei.

As the foregoing demonstrates, Christians seeking to engage humanists have much to work with. But here’s something to bear in mind: The number of actual, official humanists is very small in this country—much smaller than the share of the population often identified as not belonging to any particular religion. To put it another way, humanists are only a small subset of the secular demographic.

If you strike up a conversation with your non-religious neighbor, can you assume they are conversant with the humanist manifesto? And committed to all its lofty ideals? The answer to the first question is “probably not,” although they might have a vague sense of humanism and feel some affinity with it. As for the second question, I would say this: As someone who has moved in secular circles for many years, I’ve come to see that while official humanists (i.e., those who belong to a humanist group, attend meetings, make donations) are few in number, a large share of secular people align with humanism, more or less. We might think of them as de facto humanists.

It pleases me to see that the culture seems to have moved past the silly idea that nonreligious people have no capacity for ethics, compassion, giving of themselves, etc. Most Christians, it seems to me, are well aware that their secular fellow citizens do care about being good and doing good. People can debate whether secularly derived morals and behaviors are as sturdy and sustainable as those sourced in religion, but hardly anyone argues anymore—at least not with a straight face—that secular people are nihilistic evildoers.

A more credible criticism would be that de facto secular humanists tend to go only a few inches deep in their engagement with questions around values, ethics, morality, and the meaning of life. Many secular people with whom I’ve conversed readily assent to the idea that it’s important to be a good person—and more than possible to be good without being religious. Many attest to experiencing awe and wonder in beautiful natural settings, or in experiences of art, music, or literature. Left largely unexamined are the deeper questions. For example: Why does nature bring meaning for them? What ethical commitments can they draw from that? How does it—and how should it—change the way they live?

It is on this terrain that Christians might find fertile ground for conversation and an opportunity for constructive, practical influence on their nonreligious neighbors and friends. Although such conversations ought not to be broached in the name of Jesus explicitly¹, they just might lead your secular neighbor closer to him.