An old post of mine on Humanism resurfaced tonight on my X timeline, and in the wake of the torrents of abuse I have weathered from both hard right and hard left cultural warriors on social media, I feel compelled to expand that original reflection into a fuller statement. I begin, as I did then, by asserting that I am not a communist, not necessarily woke, not a racist, and not a worshipper of money, but I am, proudly and deliberately, a humanist. That short declaration is both a corrective to caricatures and an invitation to consider a philosophy that places human dignity, freedom, and flourishing at the centre of ethical and political life. In this extended piece I will trace the intellectual lineage of humanism, clarify what I mean by the essential human condition, explain why humanism stands apart from several prevailing ideological tendencies, and argue that humanism remains the best framework for navigating the moral and practical challenges of our age.
Humanism, as I invoke it, is a life-affirming philosophy grounded in reason, empathy, and a commitment to human agency. It is not merely a defensive stance against religious dogmatism, nor is it reducible to a political party or economic program. Instead, humanism offers a normative orientation: it affirms that our ethical obligations arise from our shared human circumstances, that evidence and reason are indispensable tools for understanding the world, and that social institutions should be judged by how well they promote human flourishing. This orientation has deep historical roots and many contemporary expressions, but what unites them is the conviction that human beings possess intrinsic worth and that our collective project should be the cultivation of conditions in which that worth can be realised.
To understand humanism, it is useful to appreciate its historical lineage without mistaking lineage for inevitability. The impulses that later coalesce into what we call humanism are visible in many ancient cultures. In classical Greece, the turn toward rational inquiry and ethical reflection by figures such as Socrates and Aristotle emphasised the capacities of human reason and the possibility of living a good life shaped by virtue. Confucianism in China focused on human relationships, moral education, and social harmony, while various strands of Indian philosophical thought explored ethical conduct and the cultivation of character. These traditions, emerging from different cultural soils, each contained elements that placed human concerns and capacities at the centre of philosophical inquiry.
The Renaissance brought an explicit revival of classical humanism in Europe, as scholars recovered ancient texts and argued for an education aimed at forming eloquent, morally responsible citizens. Petrarch, often called the father of humanism, emphasised the value of classical literature and the cultivation of the human spirit. Later, Enlightenment thinkers such as Voltaire, Rousseau, and Kant secularised many aspects of humanist thought, placing reason and individual rights at the heart of political discourse. The modern humanist movement, institutionalised in the twentieth century through manifestos and associations, articulated a clear non-theistic ethical vision that combined respect for human rights, scientific inquiry, and social justice.
Humanism, however, is not monolithic. There are religious humanists who blend spiritual traditions with human-centred ethics, secular humanists who reject supernatural claims and rely on science and reason, and civic humanists who emphasise public life and the responsibilities of citizenship. Despite these variations, common principles are recognisable: a commitment to the dignity and autonomy of persons, an emphasis on empirical inquiry and rational deliberation, a belief in the possibility of moral progress, and a preference for voluntary and democratic means of social organisation. It is these shared commitments that inform my declaration of being a proud humanist.
One reason to describe oneself as “not a communist” while affirming humanist convictions is that, in practice, many communist experiments subordinated individual dignity to the authority of the state. While Marxist analysis offered penetrating critiques of capitalist exploitation and highlighted the problem of alienation, the twentieth-century realisation of communist regimes too often involved repression, forced conformity, and the suppression of dissent – all outcomes contrary to the humanist insistence on personal freedom and moral responsibility. Humanists can share with socialists a concern for economic justice and the alleviation of poverty, but where humanism parts company with authoritarian communism is in its insistence that the ends do not justify the means when those means trample basic human rights.
Furthermore, humanism tends to favour pluralistic and democratic arrangements that protect individual liberties while enabling collective action to address social problems. The humanist commitment to reason and evidence also inclines it toward pragmatic and incremental reforms rather than the wholesale overturning of institutions through violent revolution. This is not to dismiss the legitimacy of radical critique of unjust structures, but rather to stress that a humanist approach seeks solutions that preserve human agency and dignity. In short, my rejection of communism is not only a historical judgment about certain regimes, but a principled preference for institutional arrangements that balance solidarity with liberty.
Saying “not necessarily woke” requires careful qualification, because the term “woke” itself has evolved and been contested. Its origins in African American vernacular signalled an important consciousness of racial injustice and the need for vigilance against oppression. That attentiveness to systemic harms is consonant with humanism’s concern for human dignity. Yet as “woke” has entered mainstream discourse, it has at times become associated with a form of moral absolutism that prioritises group identity and moral purity over open inquiry and dialogue. Humanism remains committed to addressing injustices but is wary of ideological forms that insist upon rhetorical conformity or that treat complex social phenomena as reducible to single-cause narratives.
Humanism, by contrast, insists on universal moral principles grounded in the shared conditions of human life while recognising the particularity of individual experiences. It acknowledges the salience of identity and power dynamics but resists the tendency to make identity the sole lens through which all problems must be viewed. Instead, a humanist response to social injustice calls for thorough investigation, empathy, and policies that restore dignity without fueling cycles of retribution. This approach favors restorative over punitive measures when possible and values strategies that build coalitions across differences rather than deepening divides.
On matters of race, humanism’s anti-racist commitments are integral rather than ancillary. Humanism rejects hierarchical conceptions of human worth and insists that moral and political institutions should reflect equal concern for all persons. This implies not only rejecting overt bigotry but also working to dismantle social structures and narratives that perpetuate disadvantage. Humanism approaches anti-racism through education, historical awareness, and the cultivation of empathy. It seeks to correct injustices by identifying concrete barriers to equal opportunity and by supporting policies informed by evidence that can yield measurable improvements in people’s lives.
At the same time, a humanist critique of some contemporary anti-racist strategies is possible and, I believe, necessary when those strategies undermine the conditions for honest conversation and shared learning. Humanism values the capacity for individuals to change and to be persuaded through reasoned argument rather than coerced confession. This does not excuse denial or minimisation of systemic harms; rather, it urges methods of reform that respect persons as moral agents capable of growth. A humanist anti-racism is, therefore, both principled and pragmatic, aiming to end discrimination while preserving the dignity and autonomy of all involved.
The charge of being a “worshipper of money” is often leveled as a critique of materialism and of economic systems that elevate profit above human needs. Humanism, in contrast, critiques the worship of wealth precisely because it places human well-being ahead of monetary accumulation. A humanist perspective recognises the role of economic structures in shaping life opportunities and insists that economies should be organised to serve human flourishing rather than to turn people into means for profit. This does not imply a dogmatic rejection of markets; rather, it entails a careful assessment of which economic arrangements best promote dignity, health, and meaningful work for the largest number of people.
Humanism supports economic policies that reduce domination, exploitation, and alienation. It favors social safety nets, fair labor laws, public investment in education and health, and environmental stewardship because these are the kinds of institutions that enable human beings to lead fulfilling lives. At the same time, humanism warns against reducing human value to utility, productivity, or wealth; it insists that ethical considerations must constrain economic choices and that measures of progress should include the richer dimensions of human life such as creativity, social bonds, and civic participation.
Central to humanism is the idea of an essential human condition that transcends particular historical circumstances while allowing for vast diversity. This condition includes capacities for reason and creativity, the propensity to form social bonds, the ability to reflect morally, and an orientation toward meaning-making. Humanism holds that these capacities are not mere cultural artefacts but biologically and socially grounded features of our species. Recognising this shared condition enables us to construct moral frameworks that appeal across cultures while remaining attentive to local differences.
Understanding human beings as rational and social creatures implies certain ethical obligations. If persons are capable of suffering and of seeking flourishing, then moral agents have reasons to alleviate suffering and promote conditions for growth. Reason allows us to identify effective means to those ends; empathy motivates their pursuit; institutions provide the means to scale individual initiatives into collective outcomes. Humanism thus ties together individual responsibility and collective institutional design, insisting that both spheres must be cultivated for a just society.
One of the strengths of humanism is its flexibility in addressing contemporary challenges. For example, the ethical dilemmas posed by emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence require a human-centred approach that protects autonomy and privacy while fostering innovation. Humanism provides a normative compass for these debates by insisting that technological progress should be judged by whether it enhances human flourishing and respects human dignity. Similarly, in facing the global climate crisis, humanism calls for policies that protect the environmental conditions necessary for meaningful human life and that distribute burdens and benefits fairly across generations.
Humanism also has a distinctive approach to education and civic life. It values critical thinking, the teaching of history in ways that are honest and contextual, and the cultivation of skills necessary for democratic participation. Education, from the humanist viewpoint, is not mere vocational training but the cultivation of capacities for judgment, empathy, and public spiritedness. A humanist polity invests in institutions that enable citizens to deliberate, to hold leaders accountable, and to contribute to the common good. This vision stands opposed to forms of governance that manipulate ignorance, stoke fear, or dissolve public institutions in favour of partisan entrenchment.
Yet humanism is not naive about conflict or human failing. It recognises that ignorance, greed, and cruelty exist and that institutions can be corrupted. The humanist response is to strengthen democratic safeguards, develop robust public reason, and create mechanisms of redress that are proportional and restoring. It trusts in the power of persuasion and institutions to channel human capacities toward constructive ends, but it also recognises the need for vigilance against abuses of power.
A proud humanist must also grapple with their own historical blind spots, including Eurocentrism and the marginalisation of voices from colonised and oppressed peoples. Contemporary humanism should be reflexive, seeking to incorporate insights from diverse traditions and to correct injustices perpetrated in its name. This means listening to critiques, engaging with other intellectual lineages with humility, and expanding the humanist imagination to include voices that were previously excluded by historical circumstance.
In the practical realm, living as a humanist means aligning daily choices with the value of human dignity. It means supporting policies that expand access to healthcare, education, and decent housing. It means resisting rhetoric that dehumanises groups of people or reduces them to ideological caricatures. It means participating in democratic life, fostering inclusive communities, and creating cultural spaces where art and science can flourish. Importantly, it means holding oneself to standards of honesty and intellectual humility, acknowledging mistakes, and being open to reasoned persuasion.
Humanism also implies a posture of hope rather than despair. This hope is not utopian fantasy but a realistic confidence in human capacities for learning and correction. History contains examples of progress that were hard-won: the abolition of slavery in many societies, the expansion of suffrage, the development of public health measures that drastically reduced mortality, and the emergence of international human rights norms. These gains did not come automatically; they were the result of persistent moral labor grounded in appeals to human dignity and fairness. Humanism derives inspiration from these victories while remaining mindful of the work still to be done.
To be a proud humanist in our polarised age is to resist both cynicism and moral complacency. It is to refuse the false choice between uncritical optimism and resigned pessimism. It is to engage in rigorous thinking and generous action, to argue with clarity and to listen with patience. Humanists can be passionate without being doctrinaire, critical without being contemptuous, and reformist without being nihilistic.
In closing, the statement I began with – “Not a communist, not necessarily woke, not a racist, not a worshipper of money … but, a proud humanist” – is an attempt to map a middle ground that refuses to be flattened by contemporary binaries. Humanism offers a robust moral vocabulary for defending personal liberties, for addressing structural injustices, for critiquing materialistic excesses, and for fostering a shared life of dignity. It asks of us thoughtful engagement rather than reflexive allegiance, principled solidarity rather than performative conformity, and enduring commitment rather than episodic outrage. If that sounds like a modest ambition in the face of the world’s seemingly overwhelming challenges, I will accept the charge. To be a proud humanist is to wager on human capacities for reason, compassion, and creativity, and to invest one’s energies in institutions and practices that expand the possibilities of a good life for all. If you value human dignity and seek a politics grounded in both justice and liberty, then humanism offers not only a philosophy but a task worthy of our collective effort.
