аЯрЁБс>ўџ JLўџџџIџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџьЅСa №ПJKjbjb‡t‡t ЅZээtBШ џџџџџџˆ|||(Є „ШШШ8  „™К4 4 J J J + + + ,SRЅТ>+ + + + + >Л J J сSЛ Л Л + fJ J Л .4b"Ф4ј"+ Л Л Ц8Є( ЁљsРШ‘ *м i0™№gЛ g(Л „„DШ„„ШThe Politics of Humanism The secular gods appear to have failed. Communism is barely more than the fading memory of a twentieth-century aberration. Social democracy has been blown away, ceding the political space it once occupied to the neo-liberalism which it was always only its temporary role to ameliorate. Conservatism in its various guises was never in any condition to face down the postmodernity it rightly identified as its real enemy. The path trodden by so many – Hitchens, Kristol, Aaronovitch and the rest -- from Trotskyism to neo-liberalism exemplifies today’s realism about who we are and about what the world is like. There really is no alternative. In all but name, then, it is the Calvinist version of Original Sin which dominates the fundamental thinking behind the dominant politics of today: and the leaders who pronounce on the masses are of course among the elect. Whether awaiting the imminent second coming of Jesus Christ in Jerusalem – the more apocalyptic American version – or working through an incoherent exceptionalism whereby those strong, successful, rich and ruthless enough to emerge as winners in the wars without end of the market will gain salvation – Blair’s peculiar neo-liberal Christian fundamentalism – the message is the same. “Ordinary” human beings are weak, frightened, inadequate beings who need to be protected from each other, at whatever cost. How they can also and at the same time function as the rampantly competitive individuals of the neo-liberal future might seem mysterious -- until we remember that the conception of human nature at work here is seriously anti-egalitarian. The Christian fundamentalism of today’s Anglophone neo-liberals has its roots in social Darwinism no less than in the Biblical traditions which biological determinism purports to undermine. But what is the idea of Original Sin if not a pre-Darwinian determinism? Not eating apples, but being born with certain genes; not a hubristic disobedience of God, but ignorance of biology: the rest is little different. No wonder, then, that their respective champions congregate on the battlefields of creationism, so-called Intelligent Design and neo-Darwinian biology. They mirror in today’s culture war the “war on terror”. And like that so-called war between al-Bush and al-Qaeda, what makes those involved the enemies they are is the very closeness of their respective visions of the world, of the divine and of the human. However mad those visions might be, however, they contain a vital lesson for the non-crusaders and non-jihadists among us – whether utopian ageing leftists who insist on distinguishing principle from realpolitik or younger people variously disgusted, disturbed, bored or amused by the inane “realities” of today’s politics and the “commonsense” of market commoditization. The lesson is that there is something irreducibly at stake here: the nature of human beings and the relation of that question to issues of what we should and should not do, that is to say, to both politics and ethics. For if we are not to join the Bushes, Blairs Bin-Ladens and the rest in seeking salvation from the human condition through something outside us – some version of “God” – then we have only two choices. We can simply give up on politics and morality, and thus in effect leave the world to market, mystical or some other non-human – and in all likelihood, inhuman – fundamentalist denial of the possibility of making the world a better place. Or we have to rely on ourselves to change the world, and to find within ourselves, as human beings, the resources we need to challenge and defeat the defeatists. In short, we need to remember Feuerbach’s invocation of human possibility as what in fact constitutes the divine: ‘God is nothing else than the nature of man purified’. But of course, we need also to remember also Marx’s earlier assessment of Feuerbach as insufficiently radical: ‘The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point, however, is to change it.’ If we are to set about doing that, however, then we surely have to be able to know what it is that we are. Any form of humanism unable to identify the nature of the human which is the basis of that humanism would be laughable. The question of human nature will not go away. I But that raises an initial problem. Appeals to human nature as a means of justifying the status quo have always been a stock weapon of the powerful. “It’s human nature” has always been the refrain of those who sought to justify whatever it suited them to defend as part of the fabric of the world: war, slavery, serfdom, patriarchy, the family or whatever. Just as floods, earthquakes and pestilence were built in to the natural, physical, world, so these were built in to the constitution of human beings. And of course exactly this structure of argument is still with us: we are told that as human beings we are “naturally” competitive, aggressive and egoistic, and that the structures and processes of capitalism thereby simply mirror “human nature”. Nor is this sort of appeal to “human nature” limited to just one side of “debates” such as these. Utopians – whether Rousseau in the eighteenth century, Robert Owen in the nineteenth or the various Christian socialists of the twentieth – argue on the same basis: with the difference, of course, that they claim “human nature” to be quite different, and to have been corrupted by civilization, industrialization or capitalism respectively. Prior to such corruption, human beings were co-operative, sociable and altruistic. Nor does it make any difference if the notion of what human nature is really like is projected into a possible future rather than on to a particular past. (Arguably neither Rousseau nor Owen were exactly clear which of these tacks they were taking; perhaps all forms of utopianism in fact combine the two, as the governing mythology of Christianity does quite explicitly.) The point is, of course, that it is political and moral conviction which determine what human nature is taken to be. No wonder, then, that appeals to human nature “justify” whatever we wish them to justify, by simply and simplistically building the desired normative conclusion into the purportedly factual premise of the argument offered. So are arguments such as these not entirely useless? Should we not simply reject any appeal to human nature? But if how we envision society has no basis in what human beings actually are – that is to say, in human nature – then on what other basis should we argue? What could possibly be the appeal, let alone the sense, of, say, a socialist vision of human relations which had nothing at all to do with what we are? Perhaps we should not reject such arguments quite so quickly, then. And we might start a reassessment by asking if it is the structure of arguments which appeal to human nature that is problematic, or the particular content of the premises invoked – that human nature is such-and-such -- that constitutes the difficulty. Might it be possible to delineate a notion of human nature on which people of different political and moral persuasions could agree? What sort of notion might fulfill such a requirement? Clearly, it would have to be a factual description, for otherwise we would be begging the question in just the way which we have seen to be problematic – it would be their different normative persuasions that would lead some people to reject a normative notion of human nature that others accept. For to the extent that a particular conception of what human beings are – of ‘human nature’ – is entirely non-normative, to that extent it is useless as a basis for normative conclusions. This is in fact the central difficulty for the most impressive attempt in the last twenty years to produce just such a theory, Doyal and Gough’s A Theory of Human Need, an attempt vitiated by its inevitably falling foul of the infamous “Is/Ought Problem”: one cannot derive a normative conclusion from purely factual premises. It does not follow from the fact that there is a child drowning in the river that you ought to do anything about it; it does not follow from the fact that human beings are aggressive in a purely biological sense – a purely factual sense -- that aggressive policies and actions are not to be politically condemned. For the question always remains: given what is the case, what should we do about it? Should such-and-such a gene be eliminated from the human gene-pool? Given that she does not want to have a child, should she be able to have an abortion? No wonder, then, that John Stuart Mill tried to achieve a rather wonderful sleight of hand, by arguing that the only evidence we can bring to bear that something is desirable or acceptable, is that people as a matter of fact desire or accept it. And there is the problem. What is needed is an unarguable yet normative notion of human nature. II It is in light of these considerations that I want to reflect on Frank Furedi’s claim, central to his urging of a ‘pre-political’ humanism, that ‘How we view the human species constitutes the point of departure for any philosophical or political orientation towards the world’. He is right in so far as his claim describes any already normatively committed conception of the human species: of ourselves as, for example, the creation of a god; or as a species really just the same as other species inasmuch as our behaviour is no less biologically determined than that of, for example, starlings. For the former, and whether or not they are prepared to admit it, what we do is not something we really do at all, since it is god who is in charge. For the latter, and again whether or not they are prepared to admit it, what we do is also not something we really do at all, since if biology (or anything else) determines what we “do”, then we cannot in fact be acting, but only behaving. And in both cases, what we are – whether children of god or purely biological organisms – is the starting-point, and indeed the finishing-point, of our thinking about what to do, or rather “do”, in the world. But Furedi’s claim can also be misleading, inasmuch as it is no less the case that our philosophical or political orientation towards the world is the point of departure for how we view the human species. For those who are not already normatively committed in some such way as I have suggested above – to a god, or to biology -- their philosophical, political and moral views about what we should do in the world will play an important role in how they view the human species. The two issues cannot be simply separated out in the way Furedi suggests. For unless we already have a pre-existent non- or anti-humanist commitment, the movement is from our philosophical/political commitment to our view of human nature. And of course, that is precisely what the call for a pre-political humanism appears to oppose. The question then is this. In what sense, exactly, might a humanism – a commitment to humanity and a confidence in humanity’s capacity to improve its state – be ‘pre-political’? No humanism can be founded on some purely factual conception of what human beings are, since in that case no normative recommendations could be drawn from that conception. Nothing would follow from such a conception, as we have seen. But then if ‘pre-political’ cannot be understood as ‘non-normative’, how is it to be understood? What other normative conception than a political one of what human beings are could there be? Precisely to the extent that we have a conception of our species at all, we are a political species, as Aristotle insisted when he remarked that we are a political animal. If ‘how we view the human species’ is already and unavoidably as consisting of political beings, then our view cannot be pre-political at all. It must already have some particular political content -- for to say that we are political beings but of no particular political character would be an empty remark. To distinguish, for example, between ‘human being’ and ‘person’ – between ourselves as members of a specific biological species and ourselves as moral and political beings – is to imply a notion of people as some sort of moral-political beings, even if that sort remains (as yet) unspecified. So if by a ‘pre-political’ humanism is intended a humanism which is non-political, then it cannot be a humanism at all. For, to reiterate, from a non-normative conception of the human, nothing follows and no humanism is possible; and what normative conception of the human could there be which was not already political? Humanism, after all, suggests that there are qualities that human beings have – not, note, that there are simple facts about human beings – which have political and moral implications, and from which conclusions may be drawn about what to do in the world. Historically, of course, to the extent that humanism arose in the West in opposition to Christianity, it has taken a broadly progressive politically character. To argue that we should put our faith in, and take our cue from, our own nature as human beings was to have already adopted a view of that nature that was, to put it crudely, benign and optimistic; the human qualities which were to constitute the basis of a normative system were understood in contrast to a conception of human beings as fallen, as beyond redemption by their own efforts and on the basis of their own nature. For otherwise, of course, what would have been the attraction of humanism as against Christianity? But, first, there is no conceptual reason why a quite different conception of the nature of human beings should not form the basis of a system of beliefs that takes its cue from that nature: consider the sort of humanism that might, and to some extent actually does, arise from contemporary sociobiology or evolutionary psychology. Second, and more importantly, a humanism of the latter sort would be no less political than the actual humanism of recent western history. For again, to talk of ‘the human’ at all as something not purely biological – to the extent that normative conclusions may be drawn from such a conception at all -- is already to invoke a political conception, both formally (‘the human’ is taken as a political, and not just a biological, notion) and in terms of specific content (what it is to be human is taken to be this and not that). III Unless, therefore, the notion of a ‘pre-political’ humanism is intended and understood – and both of these are important – as signalling something like a rejection of being bound by contemporary political formations, concerns and so on, it is hard to see what might be meant. However, if describing humanism as ‘pre-political’ were indeed just a tactic to do that, rather than to articulate and promulgate a principle which was ‘pre-political’ in some deeper sense, then I am doubtful how successful such a tactic might be. Such a humanism would be very likely indeed to be misinterpreted as ‘non-political’ and hence rejected – and rightly so, under that description. If we are to invent a humanism with teeth – some form of humanism has been going for centuries, after all; and its current form is politically marginal (a Feuerbachian humanism, one might say, rather than a Marxist one) – we need precisely to do the political work, intellectual and otherwise, of creating a particular ‘political animal’. We need, not a pre-political humanism, but on the contrary an overtly political humanism. Whatever the limitations of a political language which is a reflection of – as well as contributing to – the political poverty of our current situation, we need rather to invoke the continuing realities which the absence of an adequate public political language masks and to the denial of which it thus contributes so much. Socialism is not dead. Certainly its convictions and ideals have suffered political defeat; but that is not to say that those convictions and ideals therefore have no purchase and no worth. Furthermore, to accept linguistic defeat – even as a tactic intended to afford protection for the underlying content in a hostile world -- would be no small contribution to ensuring that today’s political defeat becomes the historical defeat that it has not yet become. We need to think, not in terms of decades, but in terms of centuries. However ironically, we need to on this point to learn from the very religious tradition which humanism originally rose to oppose. The choice is what it always has been, whether a hundred years ago or centuries ago, before the terms themselves had been invented: socialism or barbarism. If we as human beings are not the weak, frightened and inadequate beings today’s politicians would have us be, then we should not be scared of asserting what needs to be asserted. A socialist humanism is no less apt today, and no less needed, than ever it was. Nothing less will defeat the defeatists.  Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper and Row, 1957 [1854]), 180.  Karl Marx, ‘Theses on Feuerbach’ (11th thesis), in Marx and Engels, On Religion (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1975 [1845]), 62-64, p. 64.  Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1991.  The classic statement is David Hume’s, in his Treatise of Human Nature (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1969 [1740]); W.D.Hudson (ed.), The Is-Ought Question (London: Macmillan, 1969) remains an excellent collection of articles on the issue.  See J.S.Mill, Utilitarianism (Mary Warnock, ed.) (London: Fontana 1962 [1863]), 288-289, and Warnock’s discussion of the point, ibid., 26.  Frank Furedi, The Politics of Fear (London: Continuum, 2005), 94.  PAGE 7 ыьxƒКРХЦТ Ы !$!И$Ю$Я$а$Ј&Љ&ж&и&ш&ю&R'V'q'w'Ž(( * *Д+Ж+T,V,ж/о/r6u677tHuHˆHЃHвHгHјHњH^I_I~IIЎIЦIJJjJkJzJˆJїJєьоьвьвьоьЩьЩьвьоьоьЩьЩьЩьЩьоьоьЩьЩьНьНьЩьГЏЇЏГЏŸЏГЏГЏЇЏЇЏГЏЇЏhz~ЪhyS`H*hz~ЪhyS`6hyS`jhyS`0JUhyS`hyS`6OJQJhyS`6OJQJhz~ЪhyS`6OJQJjhyS`0JOJQJUhyS`OJQJhyS`5CJ$OJQJ>šклн†!(ё(ђ(і(Э0p8{>|>€>ЪBнEpHqHrHtHвH^I~IjJїJїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїїѕѕѕѕѕ$dрa$tH*@Ђё> Endnote ReferenceH*@&@Ђ@ Footnote ReferenceH*N>@N Title$5$7$8$9DH$a$5CJmH sH uJB@"J Body Text$a$5CJHOJQJtH uZC@2Z Body Text Indent „@ ^„@ 5CJOJQJtH uNP@BN Body Text 2$dрa$OJQJtH u:@R: Footnote TextCJыХЯЈ Ž" $JE^ъ іƒЧЪџџџџџџЪJEZ)Z џџ@ѕ2№ џџ@ѕ2№ џџр’}№ѓ|8JEš клн†"ё"ђ"і"Э*p2{8|8€8Ъ<н?pBqBrBtBвB^CKE˜0€€рЋ€˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€0Г€˜0€€0Г€˜0€€рЋ˜0€€рЋ˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€0Г€˜0€€Ъ˜0€€Ъ˜0€€Ъ˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€Ъ€˜0€€€З€˜0€€ К€˜0€€0Г€˜0€€Ъ€š0€€Ъ€˜0€€Ъ˜0€€Ъ˜0€€Ъ€š0€€0№?џџР–џПр˜8џП—š€€ Ќs f їJJK(+їJJK),IK* !џ€№8№@ёџџ™џ€€€ї№˜№№0№( № №№H №c №$џџ™ПЫџ ?№†“лухьюљ  c n    al7@ІЋ=#E#љ$%І'Ў'И)О)ў89И;Ф;dBnBoBoBtB}B†BъBѓBCCШCеCюCјCpDxDџDE‘A"€ѕ;„п№џџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџz~Ъџџ4DO INTELLECTUALS HAVE A SPECIAL PUBLIC RESPONSIBLITYmikeInformation Services(       ўџ р…ŸђљOhЋ‘+'Гй0Ј˜ифє 0< X d p |ˆ˜ '5DO INTELLECTUALS HAVE A SPECIAL PUBLIC RESPONSIBLITY4=Ž№mikeikeNormalInformation Services29№Microsoft Word 11.2@њ_ъB@XЎх!fЦ@lSѓyVЦ@фк$‚hЦЉ 4ўџ еЭеœ.“—+,љЎ0 hp|„Œ” œЄЌД М §'S6Да> 5DO INTELLECTUALS HAVE A SPECIAL PUBLIC RESPONSIBLITY Title  !"#$%&'()*+,-ўџџџ/012345678ўџџџ:;<=>?@ўџџџBCDEFGHўџџџ§џџџKўџџџўџџџўџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџRoot Entryџџџџџџџџ РF€Ю˜ЈŠhЦM€1Tableџџџџџџџџ.WordDocumentџџџџџџџџЅZSummaryInformation(џџџџ9DocumentSummaryInformation8џџџџџџџџџџџџACompObjџџџџџџџџџџџџXџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџўџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџўџџџџџ РFMicrosoft Word DocumentўџџџNB6WWord.Document.8