On the ambiguity of hope
Assume that I am planning a weekend trip to the country and it is doubtful that the weather will be fine. I may say, “I'm optimistic,” as far as the weather is concerned. But if my child is gravely sick and his life hangs in the balance, to say, “I'm optimistic,” would seem strange to sensitive ears, because in this context the expression sounds detached and distant. Yet I could not very well say, “I am convinced my child will live,” because, under the circumstances, I have no realistic basis for being convinced.
What, then, could I say?
The most adequate words would perhaps be: “I have faith my child will live.” But “faith,” because of its theological implications, is not a word for today. Yet it is the best we have, because faith implies an extremely important element: my ardent, intense wish for my child to live, hence my doing everything possible to bring about his recovery. I am not just an observer, separate from my child, as I am in the case of being “optimistic.” I am part of the situation that I observe; I am engaged; my child about whom I, the “subject,” make a prognostic statement is not an “object”; my faith is rooted in my relatedness to my child; it is a blend of knowledge and of participation.
This is true, of course, only if by faith is meant “rational faith” (cf. E. Fromm, 1947, Escape from Freedom), which is based on the clear awareness of all relevant data, and not, like “irrational faith,” an illusion based on our desires.
Optimism is an alienated form of faith, pessimism an alienated form of despair. If one truly responds to man and his future, i.e., concernedly and “responsibly,” one can respond only by faith or by despair. Rational faith as well as rational despair are based on the most thorough, critical knowledge of all the factors that are relevant for the survival of man.
The basis of rational faith in man is the presence of a real possibility for his salvation; the basis for rational despair would be the knowledge that no such possibility can be seen.
One point needs to be emphasized in this context. Most people are quite ready to denounce faith in man's improvement as unrealistic; but they do not recognize that despair is often just as unrealistic. It is easy to say: “Man has always been a killer.” But the statement nevertheless is not correct, for it neglects to take into account the intricacies of the history of destructiveness. It is equally easy to say, “The desire to exploit others is just human nature”; but again, the statement neglects (or distorts) the facts.
In brief, the statement, “Human nature is evil,” is not a bit more realistic than the statement, “Human nature is good.”
But the first statement is much easier to make; anyone who wants to prove man's evilness finds followers most readily, for he offers everybody an alibi for his own sins and seemingly risks nothing.
Yet the spreading of irrational despair is in itself destructive, as all untruth is; it discourages and confuses. Preaching irrational faith or announcing false Messiahs is hardly less destructive - it seduces and then paralyzes.
The attitude of the majority is neither that of faith nor that of despair, but, unfortunately, that of complete indifference to the future of man.
With those who are not entirely indifferent, the attitude is that of “optimism” or of “pessimism.” The optimists are the believers in the dogma of the continuous march of “progress.” They are accustomed to identifying human achievement with technical achievement, human freedom with freedom from direct coercion and the consumer's freedom to choose between many allegedly different commodities.
The dignity, cooperativeness, kindness of the primitive do not impress them; technical achievement, wealth, toughness do. Centuries of rule over technically backward people of different color have left their stamp on the optimists' minds. How could a “savage” be human and equal, not to speak of superior, to the men who can fly to the moon or by pushing a button, destroy millions of living beings?
The optimists live well enough, at least for the moment, and they can afford to be “optimists.” Or at least that is what they think because they are so alienated that even the threat to the future of their grand-children does not genuinely affect them.
The “pessimists” are really not very different from the optimists.
They live just as comfortably and are just as little engaged. The fate of humanity is as little their concern as it is the optimists'. They do not feel despair; if they did, they would not, and could not, live as contentedly as they do. And while their pessimism functions largely to protect the pessimists from any inner demand to do something, by projecting the idea that nothing can be done, the optimists defend themselves against the same inner demand by persuading themselves that everything is moving in the right direction anyway, so nothing needs to be done.
The position taken in this book is one of rational faith in man's capacity to extricate himself from what seems the fatal web of circumstances that he has created. It is the position of those who are neither “optimists” nor “pessimists,” but radicals who have rational faith in man's capacity to avoid the ultimate catastrophe. This humanist radicalism goes to the roots, and thus to the causes; it seeks to liberate man from the chains of illusions; it postulates that fundamental changes are necessary, not only in our economic and political structure but also in our values, in our concept of man's aims, and in our personal conduct.
To have faith means to dare, to think the unthinkable, yet to act within the limits of the realistically possible; it is the paradoxical hope to expect the Messiah every day, yet not to lose heart when he has not come at the appointed hour. This hope is not passive and it is not patient; on the contrary, it is impatient and active, looking for every possibility of action within the realm of real possibilities. Least of all is it passive as far as the growth and the liberation of one's own person are concerned.
To be sure, there are severe limitations to personal development determined by the social structure. But those alleged radicals who counsel that no personal change is possible or even desirable within present day society use their revolutionary ideology as an excuse for their personal resistance to inner change.
The situation of mankind today is too serious to permit us to listen to the demagogues - least of all demagogues who are attracted to destruction - or even to the leaders who use only their brains and whose hearts have hardened.
Critical and radical thought will only bear fruit when it is blended with the most precious quality man is endowed with - the love of life.
Bibliography: The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness, Erich Fromm, Holt Paperbacks (1992).
What, then, could I say?
The most adequate words would perhaps be: “I have faith my child will live.” But “faith,” because of its theological implications, is not a word for today. Yet it is the best we have, because faith implies an extremely important element: my ardent, intense wish for my child to live, hence my doing everything possible to bring about his recovery. I am not just an observer, separate from my child, as I am in the case of being “optimistic.” I am part of the situation that I observe; I am engaged; my child about whom I, the “subject,” make a prognostic statement is not an “object”; my faith is rooted in my relatedness to my child; it is a blend of knowledge and of participation.
This is true, of course, only if by faith is meant “rational faith” (cf. E. Fromm, 1947, Escape from Freedom), which is based on the clear awareness of all relevant data, and not, like “irrational faith,” an illusion based on our desires.
Optimism is an alienated form of faith, pessimism an alienated form of despair. If one truly responds to man and his future, i.e., concernedly and “responsibly,” one can respond only by faith or by despair. Rational faith as well as rational despair are based on the most thorough, critical knowledge of all the factors that are relevant for the survival of man.
The basis of rational faith in man is the presence of a real possibility for his salvation; the basis for rational despair would be the knowledge that no such possibility can be seen.
One point needs to be emphasized in this context. Most people are quite ready to denounce faith in man's improvement as unrealistic; but they do not recognize that despair is often just as unrealistic. It is easy to say: “Man has always been a killer.” But the statement nevertheless is not correct, for it neglects to take into account the intricacies of the history of destructiveness. It is equally easy to say, “The desire to exploit others is just human nature”; but again, the statement neglects (or distorts) the facts.
In brief, the statement, “Human nature is evil,” is not a bit more realistic than the statement, “Human nature is good.”
But the first statement is much easier to make; anyone who wants to prove man's evilness finds followers most readily, for he offers everybody an alibi for his own sins and seemingly risks nothing.
Yet the spreading of irrational despair is in itself destructive, as all untruth is; it discourages and confuses. Preaching irrational faith or announcing false Messiahs is hardly less destructive - it seduces and then paralyzes.
The attitude of the majority is neither that of faith nor that of despair, but, unfortunately, that of complete indifference to the future of man.
With those who are not entirely indifferent, the attitude is that of “optimism” or of “pessimism.” The optimists are the believers in the dogma of the continuous march of “progress.” They are accustomed to identifying human achievement with technical achievement, human freedom with freedom from direct coercion and the consumer's freedom to choose between many allegedly different commodities.
The dignity, cooperativeness, kindness of the primitive do not impress them; technical achievement, wealth, toughness do. Centuries of rule over technically backward people of different color have left their stamp on the optimists' minds. How could a “savage” be human and equal, not to speak of superior, to the men who can fly to the moon or by pushing a button, destroy millions of living beings?
The optimists live well enough, at least for the moment, and they can afford to be “optimists.” Or at least that is what they think because they are so alienated that even the threat to the future of their grand-children does not genuinely affect them.
The “pessimists” are really not very different from the optimists.
They live just as comfortably and are just as little engaged. The fate of humanity is as little their concern as it is the optimists'. They do not feel despair; if they did, they would not, and could not, live as contentedly as they do. And while their pessimism functions largely to protect the pessimists from any inner demand to do something, by projecting the idea that nothing can be done, the optimists defend themselves against the same inner demand by persuading themselves that everything is moving in the right direction anyway, so nothing needs to be done.
The position taken in this book is one of rational faith in man's capacity to extricate himself from what seems the fatal web of circumstances that he has created. It is the position of those who are neither “optimists” nor “pessimists,” but radicals who have rational faith in man's capacity to avoid the ultimate catastrophe. This humanist radicalism goes to the roots, and thus to the causes; it seeks to liberate man from the chains of illusions; it postulates that fundamental changes are necessary, not only in our economic and political structure but also in our values, in our concept of man's aims, and in our personal conduct.
To have faith means to dare, to think the unthinkable, yet to act within the limits of the realistically possible; it is the paradoxical hope to expect the Messiah every day, yet not to lose heart when he has not come at the appointed hour. This hope is not passive and it is not patient; on the contrary, it is impatient and active, looking for every possibility of action within the realm of real possibilities. Least of all is it passive as far as the growth and the liberation of one's own person are concerned.
To be sure, there are severe limitations to personal development determined by the social structure. But those alleged radicals who counsel that no personal change is possible or even desirable within present day society use their revolutionary ideology as an excuse for their personal resistance to inner change.
The situation of mankind today is too serious to permit us to listen to the demagogues - least of all demagogues who are attracted to destruction - or even to the leaders who use only their brains and whose hearts have hardened.
Critical and radical thought will only bear fruit when it is blended with the most precious quality man is endowed with - the love of life.
Bibliography: The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness, Erich Fromm, Holt Paperbacks (1992).
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