Transcending the Animal:
How Transhumanism and Religion Are and Are Not Alike
Patrick D. Hopkins
Department of Philosophy, Millsaps College
Journal
of Evolution and Technology -
Vol. 14 Issue 1 - August 2005 - pgs 11-26
http://jetpress.org/volume14/hopkins.html
PDF Version
Abstract
In this paper I lay out
a basic framework for relating religion and transhumanism. I argue
that both religion and transhumanism begin conceptually as reactions
to a particular deflationary description of the human condition,
termed the “animal account.” While some people (especially secular
humanists) are satisfied with this account, others are dissatisfied
and actively hope and work to transcend animal limitations
(including theists and transhumanists). In this sense, religion and
transhumanism are very similar. They share a desire for
transcendence and in important ways, have more to do with each other
than with secular humanism. This does not mean that transhumanism
is itself a religion; in fact, it is not best understood as
such. However, transhumanism can be religious, in the sense
that people can incorporate transhumanist methods and ideals into
their religious aims. Where religion and transhumanism can easily
antagonize, however, is over the method of transcendence pursued,
and the overall attitude toward given nature that motivates the
pursuit. Practically speaking, the real battleground between
religion and transhumanism will be in the debate over which specific
technological moves are consistent with a religious view of the
ultimate good, a debate depending greatly on doctrinal specifics. [1]
The Human Condition
In deciding how to think
about the relationship of religion and transhumanism, I want to
begin by looking at the reaction to a particular way of thinking
about what it means to be human. This view of the human condition,
or human nature, is not specifically drawn from any one source, but
is instead an amalgam of views that might collectively be understood
as a “minimalist” or “deflationary” account of human nature,
informed by biological reductionism and secular humanism. This view
essentially represents humans as moderately smart, moderately
conscious, moderately creative, physically weak, emotional, social,
and mortal animals participating in an ongoing evolutionary process
absent any grand purpose or design. We are born, live, eat,
excrete, think, feel, create, emote, organize, rank, compete,
cooperate, and die. Although we are certainly more intelligent, and
probably more conscious and much more self-conscious than other
animals, we are essentially the same as animals, differing only in
degree and not kind, and not differing as much as we typically
think. We are not metaphysically unique; we do not rank between
angels and beasts; we are not embodied souls.
For shorthand, I will
refer to this as the “animal account” of being human, using “animal”
in the colloquial sense of a purely biological, earthbound, “nothing
more than” existence.[2]
I realize that many people do not hold this view in such stark
fashion. However, many people do attribute this view to a secular,
scientistic outlook and thus, regardless of whether many hold it,
many respond to it. The “animal account” is thus a kind of pure
antithesis to more metaphysically expansive views of humanity. It
is the Other view to how so many view their Self.
So what sort of
responses are there, or could there be, to this deflationary animal
account of humanity and how does this help us frame the relationship
between religion and transhumanism?
Satisfaction and Desire for Transcendence
One response could
simply be satisfaction. There is nothing wrong or even
disappointing about being the sort of creature described by the
animal account. There is no reason to lament life as a smart mortal
animal or think it inferior or undesirable. Our goal in life should
simply be to live out our limited time well, being happy, satisfied,
experiencing the richness of the world in such a way as to produce
rewarding biological, emotional, social, and mental experiences.
When we die, we are through, our part of the wide organic web is
ended, and the next generation moves on.
In this response, there is
no (or it is thought that there should be no) desire to transcend
the animal state. What I mean by “transcend” here is nothing
technically precise. I simply use the term generally and minimally
to indicate a state of existence which would surpass the limits that
the animal account describes—surpassing animal knowledge,
consciousness, mortality, and control. Someone truly satisfied with
the animal account of humanity would see very little value to be
gained by existing in some other way and would often view the desire
for transcendence not only as misdirected, but detrimental. Such a
desire, with its attendant focus on otherworldly matters, distracts
us from the here and now real problems and possibilities of life and
is therefore both socially and psychologically harmful.
Of
course, this response is by far the minority response. It attracts
few adherents, either currently or historically, and is manifested
by neither religionists nor, interestingly, by transhumanists.
Dissatisfaction and Desire for Transcendence
The other response to the
animal account is obviously dissatisfaction. There is something
wrong, disappointing, frustrating, about being the sort of creature
that is “nothing more than” a smart animal. If true, it would be
lamentable, inferior to our ideals, undesirable. We want to be more
than this sort of thing. We want not to be limited in this way.[3]
So if the response to the
animal account is dissatisfaction, what sorts of reactions to that
dissatisfaction are there? In general, I would say there are three.
Coping
One reaction is to accept
sorrowfully this disappointing account of what we are, while
acknowledging our wish that there were more to us. Part of the
human condition is precisely existing in a psychological tension
between what we are and what we wish we were. That is the only way
in which we are truly different from other animals. That is our
existential hole to fill. Though disappointing, depressing, even
existentially horrifying, we are essentially smart, conflicted
animals with overblown metaphysical hopes and delusions of
grandeur. Sometimes these delusions produce glorious aspects of
human culture—religion, art, poetry; sometimes they produce
inglorious aspects of human culture—religion, art, poetry.
Our fundamental choice,
once we have matured into scientific knowledge beyond our original
myths, is either to wallow in existential misery, ignore the
problem, adopt another belief, or realize that our desire for
transcendence is unhealthy and try to rid ourselves of it. Given the
difficulty of ignoring a problem we have already addressed or in
consciously adopting a new belief, the general strategy is to learn
to cope. We can cope unhealthily, through hedonism and distraction,
or cope healthily, with honesty and inner strength, perhaps with the
aid of certain nontheistic forms of existentialism, positive
psychology, desire-eliminating Buddhism, tension-accepting
postmodernism, or fatalistic Judaism.[4]
Typically, however, this
is a very difficult place to be and generates too much cognitive
dissonance to make a psychic home here. An existential crisis would
appear to lurk all the time, making both the accepting secular
humanist and the committed religious believer enviable.
Hoping
Another response could be
drawn from such sources as epistemological skepticism, the vagaries
of unconvincing but still intriguing “mystical” experience, and
reluctance to accept fully the animal account—the position of hope.[5] We might hope that there is more to
life than just the animal account (perhaps even for animals).
Such hope could range from
little more than possessing the vague passive wish for “more” to a
real anchoring life attitude. Whatever its role in one’s life, it
would be characterized by a lack of certainty (in both the animal
account and the metaphysically grand accounts). The desire for
transcendence is real, but no actual certain belief in
transcendence forms one’s central orienting worldview. While hope
may be strong, the hope is essentially a comfort and inspiration.
While this position is
generally more psychologically sustaining than the coping reaction,
it is still complicated, seeing as it holds in tension both genuine
doubt and the genuine possibility of transcendence. Not
surprisingly, this has also been an historically minority view. It
is possible, however, that growing religious pluralism (knowledge of
many different and ancient ways of looking at God and human nature)
and increased scientific and technological knowledge (making
physicalist sense of claims that at one time seemed impossible, such
as immortality) may make the hoping position more appealing. Given
the rise in fundamentalist religious fervor though, this may be
overly optimistic.
Working
For many people, perhaps
most people, there is no accommodation with the animal account. It
may either be rejected or never seriously considered, but is always
viewed as unappealing at best and completely miserable and
contemptible at worst. The desire to transcend the animal is thus
central and fundamental.
This can work out in two
ways. First, we might think that the animal account is simply
factually wrong. We already are, or will be, transcending the
animal, and the important thing is how and where our transcendence
will get played out. For example, the standard Christian belief is
that all humans already are immortal and our decisions in this life
determine how our eternal existence will be spent.
[6]
Second, we might basically
accept the animal account as correctly describing what we currently
are and how we got here, yet not be content to accept such a state
as inevitable (and so cope), nor seriously regard religious claims
of transcendence as likely to be true (and so hope). Our goal
instead would be to spend “this life” trying to develop the tools
needed to change into another life, to create our own transcendence.
In both cases, living at
the level of the mere animal is undesirable and the desire to
transcend the animal is central and motivating. Neither coping nor
hoping, both positions actively work toward transcendence.
There are several ways
that people in this working group try to achieve or fulfill
transcendence.
Faith Commitments
There is what we might
think of as the typical (but not exclusively) Western religious
stance—to accept certain beliefs, doctrines, and moral practices.
Generally the purpose of taking on these faith commitments is not to
ensure that transcendence occurs (in Christianity and Islam and
forms of Hinduism it will be automatic), but to ensure that
transcendence follows a certain path (heaven or hell, for example)
and so in general to ensure that our innate transcendence is
properly recognized and taken care of. It is thus important not to
live like animals but to live like embodied eternal souls.[7]
The conventional religious
move here then is to effect a certain trajectory of one’s innate
transcendence. This could require believing certain propositions,
following certain social and moral codes, developing the right
relationship with God, or achieving the correct religious attitude,
all to ensure salvation.
Now, as a matter of
doctrine, some religious believers will object to my use of the term
“working” to describe this group, as they may argue that salvation
cannot be worked towards but can only be accepted as a gift from
God. I use the term “work,” however, not to suggest that salvation
is one’s own achievement, but to emphasize that while nothing may
need to be accomplished to pass beyond mortal existence, something
must be accomplished in order to pass one’s immortal existence in a
particular way. Except for the relatively rare occasions where
people have believed in universal salvation (regardless of belief,
will, action, or attitude) or have believed in complete
predestination, there is always something one must do to gain
salvation, even if it is as apparently minimal as accepting the free
gift—which may be more complicated than at first seems.[8]
Spiritual Practices
Another related way to work toward transcendence is spiritual
practice, which would include procedures such as meditation or
contemplative prayer. Not focusing on beliefs or moral codes as
acts of obedience but instead trying to train ourselves to
experience existence differently, the goal is to reshape the mind to
become aware of some greater reality or connection with reality.
The aim is to shed our attachments with the merely animal existence,
and to achieve a higher state of awareness and truth.
This appears in virtually
all religious traditions and is strongly centered on moving beyond
the apparent or physical world to something deeper, higher, better.
Though perhaps most often associated with Buddhism and Hinduism,
there are many such practices pursued in Judaism, Christianity, and
Islam, as well as having strong historical expression in
Neoplatonism and Gnosticism.
Physical Practices
Finally, one way to work
toward transcendence is through physical practices. Though most
physical practices have been conjoined with or been in the service
of the other two avenues toward transcendence, they have sometimes
played a pivotal and even independent role. Such practices include
martial arts, yoga, dance, athletics, singing and chanting, and
various sorts of charismatic practices from holy laughter to
speaking in tongues. While often connected to meditation or faith,
these practices focus much more on the body, although in many ways,
the attention to the body is usually only present because of how it
might affect the mind or soul.
But there is a new
physical practice that focuses on the body, which is both a powerful
extension of, and perhaps a significant break with, more traditional
procedures—technological practices.
This approach, which is
obviously championed by transhumanists, attempts to change our very
nature by altering our bodies, by restructuring our very
embodiment. In this approach, we would use technology to alter our
physical and cognitive limitations. Instead of reshaping the mind
or soul as an immaterial substance, we would reshape our brains,
which in a typically transhumanist physicalist worldview would have
much the same effect on “mind” and “soul.” We would move beyond
animal nature, mortal nature, by taking control of the constraints
of that nature.
And here it becomes
obvious where I am locating transhumanism in its relationship to
religion and perhaps to human culture in general. I see
transhumanism as a reaction to the minimalist animal account of
human nature (though this account is one that most transhumanists
would accept as a basically correct scientific description), and an
unhappiness with the idea that the animal might be all that we can
be. I see transhumanism as a reaction to the perceived oppressive
and disappointing limitations of given human nature. Like
religion—but unlike accepting or coping secular
humanism—transhumanists want strongly to transcend the animal and
actively work toward doing so. Unlike merely hoping that
transcendence can occur, transhumanists aggressively pursue the
physical practices, the technologies, that could make transcendence
a reality.
Religion and
Transhumanism
This approach to
understanding both religion and transhumanism as reactions to an
unsatisfying and deflationary account of human nature and human
limitation needs several caveats.
First, a caveat about the
nature of this approach. It is psychological. It does not deal
with revelation, or any divine action which might demonstrate the
existence of a deity or a transcendent realm. This does not mean,
however, that I am treating religion merely as a kind of
psycho-sociological phenomenon to be explained away. Whether it is
true or not that God has directly contacted certain individuals or
authorized certain practices and doctrines, we are left with the
common view that relatively few people have been touched so directly
and empirically. A psychological approach then deals with why those
not possessed of direct phenomenal evidence of God’s will and
existence might be drawn to a revelation (like a scripture) in the
first place and why they might be interested in pursuing
transcendence through religious beliefs and practices. It also
addresses why many religious believers think that their basic
worldview, true or false, is superior and more optimistic than a
secular humanist vision. As I heard a famous minister and author
once say in an interview, when asked the question of why he believed
in God, “the alternative is too horrible to imagine.” This sort of
statement is something that many secular humanists would sneer at,
but which even a secular transhumanist would understand, agreeing
that mere metabolism and mortality is a disappointing limit to human
life.
Second, a caveat about the
nature of the reaction to the animal account. Like the “state of
nature” Hobbes, Locke, and other social contract theorists use in
their explanations of ethics and politics, I do not assume that the
reaction to the animal account is an actual confrontation in time
and space. I am not assuming that someone actually meets head-on
the animal account in some sort of primal, socially unmediated
moment. Obviously, religious belief is already socially present
when children are born and becomes part of the given environment in
which they are raised. All I mean by referring to this reaction is
that whether one actually comes to religion by rejecting the
austerity of the animal account (a rare occurrence), or whether one
just favorably compares their inherited religious beliefs to the
animal account, there is still often a sense of weighing these
alternatives and finding the animal account lacking.
Third, a caveat about the
nature of transcendence. I am deliberately leaving this term rather
open. In general, of course, it refers to a state of being that is
“beyond” the ordinary mundane realm, but in religious terms, tends
to imply some kind of “higher” ontological order, usually some sort
of supernatural domain. This idea of another order of being in turn
is associated with substance dualism and anti-materialism. From
this supernaturalist perspective, one can easily imagine religious
believers thinking that transhumanism is a weak and pathetic
imitation of genuine transcendence, seeing as how transhumanists
seek “only” to reorder material reality. Merely being smarter and
living longer, even radically so, would hardly compare to meeting
God face to face. But there is quite a bit more going on here than
this paper has room for. Does true transcendence require
supernaturalism, or is supernaturalism a superfluous concept for
what is essentially a phenomenal condition? Notice that this sort
of debate over supernaturalism would already concede what I am
arguing for—that religion and transhumanism are both
transcendence-seeking reactions to the mundane. If that conclusion
is conceded, then we could move on to discuss the issue of ontology
and transcendence and the natural/supernatural divide—a topic for
another paper.
It is useful here though,
in thinking about transcendence in general, to distinguish between
two types of transhumanist ambitions, one more crude, which we might
call superhumanism or low transhumanism, and one more lofty, which
we might call high transhumanism.
Superhumanism, or low
transhumanism, just takes as its goal the magnification of familiar
human abilities—super strength, extended life, greater mental and
physical power. This sort of vision is certainly interesting, but
not radically so. It’s a vision that is sharply limited in its
scope and offers little more of an ideal than being a Greek god, or
a superhero/supervillain, or a television show angel (tropes which
ironically have always been ways of bringing essentially human
fears, hopes, and insecurities into relief). In other contexts I’ve
referred to this as a more Nietzschean style of transhumanism
(Hopkins 2003).
High transhumanism,
however, which is still very much in the process of being created
and whose confines are necessarily limited by current cognitive
constraints, would seek to move beyond merely exaggerated humanity
and seek something more than mere superpower. While certainly it
would include goals such as higher cognitive functioning,
immortality, and increased power, it would do so with an eye toward
something more than just exaggerated consumerism and power-over,
something about seeking the Ultimate. This is what I’ve referred to
in other contexts as a more Platonic style of transhumanism (Hopkins
2003).
While this Platonic style
of transhumanism may be seen as more related to religion than the
Nietzschean style, it is important to notice that we can also divide
religion up into its low and high versions. Some religion seeks a
more genuinely exalted, if vague and ill-defined, transcendent
experience like Nirvana, or the Beatific Vision, or unity with the
ultimate—all of which are indescribable in human language—while some
religion seems to have little more to it than the desire to live
forever in an idyllic city or garden, with streets of gold and
endless amusements.
So having argued for this
parallelism of transhumanism and religion, let me look more
specifically at the ways in which these phenomena are and are not
alike.
Similarity
In general, the less crude
versions of transhumanism and religion are more like each other in
terms of their reaction to the deflationary account of human nature
than either of them are like traditional secular humanism. This
does not mean that transhumanism and religion would be likely to
share a metaphysics, however. Transhumanists are more likely to
share the basic physicalist worldview that secular humanists hold.
However, since religions often disagree strongly on metaphysics and
ontology as well, I think the social, cultural, moral, and
psychological ground is the better place to look for similarities
and dissimilarities.
Secular humanism of a
certain disdainful stripe sees the search for transcendence in
religion as stubborn and weakminded, a defense mechanism to avoid
anxiety. Likewise, at least some secular humanists see
transhumanism as merely an old psychopathological emperor in new
clothes, motivated by the same unwillingness to accept who we are,
resulting in the same escapist pie-in-the-sky fantasies. And there
is a great deal of obvious resemblance in what both transhumanism
and many religions express the desire for—eternal happiness,
immortality, omniscience, expanded existence, and so on. So perhaps
the most straightforward question here is simply: Is transhumanism
itself a religion?
The World Transhumanist
Association says no: “Transhumanism is a philosophical and cultural
movement, not a religion. Transhumanism does not offer answers
about the ultimate purpose and nature of existence, merely a
philosophical defense of humanity’s right to control its own
evolution” (People of Faith). Brian Alexander, however, in his
journalistic history of biotech and transhumanism says yes: “The
true believers deny their faith is a religion but it is and, like
all religion, there are opponents who condemn it” (2003, 247).
It should go without
saying that the answer to this question depends on the definition of
religion—and there are many. Alexander gives no explicit definition
of religion and seems to rely on the fact that transhumanists and
other sorts of biotech enthusiasts passionately use terms like
“immortality” and “transcendence” and have dreams of eternal life
and disembodied existence as his evidence. But this assumes that
these sorts of hopes, dreams, and phenomena have to be religious in
nature. Undercutting his own pronouncement, Alexander quotes
Gregory Benford saying “there was already an entire industry devoted
to preaching about death…it was called religion….Ours is the first
rational solution to death, the nontheological solution….we believe
there is a true destiny up ahead. The techno rapture” (254).
Thoroughly permeated by a religious culture, it is not surprising
that nontheists use language typical of theists, particularly when
talking about things previously only religions talked about, such as
life after death and immortality. But just using such terminology
is not sufficient to make a belief or movement a religion and we
should take seriously claims about not being religious and not being
theistic. People also talk about “high priests of rock and roll” or
a movie star’s “worshippers” or “preaching the gospel of low-carb
eating” or being a “missionary for no-load mutual funds”. None of
this language means a religion is involved. It can mean that people
feel passionately about something, and it can even mean this
dominates their lives. But if such a purely psychological meaning
to “religion” is all we have, then many things are religions. This
seems rather too liberal and leaves us with no intelligent way to
distinguish between being a Christian and being a Red Sox fan.[9]
If we take a more
otherworldly and supernaturalist view of religion, as “the belief in
an ever-living God, that is, in a divine Mind and Will ruling the
universe and holding moral relations with mankind” transhumanism
would certainly not count as a religion (Martineau 1888, 1). While
individual transhumanists might be religious, there would be nothing
in transhumanism itself that is necessarily theistic.
If we take it as essential
to religion that it provides some sort of ultimate answer for the
meaning of life, as the World Transhumanist Association seems to in
its statement, then transhumanism still isn’t a religion.
Transhumanists argue for the right to attempt to surpass the current
limitations of human biology. They do not argue that this is a goal
in itself, only that it is a condition under which other goals and
experiences might be even more widely, permanently, or expansively
pursued. Without some other meaning, goal, or belief, even a
posthuman could sit around bored, depressed, or awash in angst.
However, if we take a
middling broad sense of religion as “human beings' relation to that
which they regard as holy, sacred, spiritual, or divine,” then
transhumanism could be seen as religious, if not a
religion (Religion). That is to say, some people may see
biotechnological manipulation as part of a path to achieve religious
goals. For example, theologians have often commented on how the
human mind is not capable of understanding the divine. Changing our
limited natures through technology, then, and thus changing our
minds, might be a valuable and honorable way to seek greater
understanding of ultimate reality, to seek the divine, to seek God.
Though this will not appeal to some transhumanists (those who have
no desire to seek a “divine”) and will not appeal to many
religionists (those who think revelation has provided all they need
to know), it will appeal to some religious seekers who are content
with neither a completely irreligious view of the world nor with a
satisfied dogmatic view of the world.
So, to summarize—religion
and transhumanism possess some similar ideas, especially in their
attitudes toward transcending the “animal” state, but transhumanism
is not best understood as a religion. It is best understood as a
cultural movement advocating the liberty to pursue biotechnological
enhancement of ourselves. Some people may pursue enhancement as a
religious endeavor. For them, technology may be a method used to
seek God, in the way that prayer, meditation, singing, and other
practices are religious techniques.
What then can we say about
the compatibility of transhumanism and religion? After all,
as we have seen from the historical observation that heretics are
often treated worse than infidels, similarity does not imply
compatibility. While transhumanism is certainly compatible with
Religion (in the categorical sense), is it compatible with specific
religions?
Compatibility
The question of
compatibility is not a simple one and will be answered differently
in different strains of doctrinal thought. No one answer to the
question will suffice for all specific religious schemes. What I
will say here, though, is that the compatibility issue can initially
be parsed in terms of types of transcendence and methods of
transcendence.
Types of Transcendence
While there are many
different aspects of transcendence and no doubt many religious
followers will think themselves short shrifted in the following
summary, it is important to stay aware of the basic meaning of
“transcendence.” It is about “moving beyond,” “rising above,”
“surpassing” some other state. So what general sorts of states have
been seen as transcending animal existence? Here are a few of the
dominant ideas:
A.
Eternal Happiness/No Suffering
B.
Immortality
C.
Omniscience/Greater Knowledge
D.
Power
E.
Beatific Vision
F.
Unity with God/Ultimate
G.
Nirvana
In terms of their shared
ideals, transhumanism and Christianity both want A, B, and C.
Christians (depending on the sect) may want E, which transhumanists
wouldn’t necessarily make much sense of. But this is a matter of
differing ideals—a common issue between religions. Similarly,
Christians can’t make much sense of Buddhists’ Nirvana.
Christianity, Hinduism,
and some strains of Buddhism like the idea of F, whereas the
libertarian strain of transhumanism will not see this as a desirable
goal. However, as science fiction has taught us, some people do
fantasize about joining a kind of group mind where you may retain
some individuality but are also subsumed, so there are appealing
forms of unity even here.
Perhaps a general
characterization one could make is that transhumanism tends to be
more conceptually compatible with Christianity, in that Christian
transcendence and salvation is by and large about the proper
satisfaction of all desires (Boethius 1999, 53-56; Aquinas 1964, 39,
Summa, Part 2, Part 1, Question 3, Answer 8), whereas
Buddhism is more about extinguishing desires (Rahula 1974, 35-39).
Transhumanism, at least in its early stages, is also about
satisfaction, but unlike Christiantity, is mute on whether such
satisfaction requires a relationship with a deity. On the other
hand, transhumanism tends to share with more orthodox Buddhism the
sense that God is a projection of the human mind and it is clarity
of mind that we must first seek. No doubt transhumanism will be
flexible and will vary from culture to culture, shaping and being
shaped by a culture’s religious heritage.
Methods of Transcendence
The greatest
incompatibility for transhumanism and religion will lie in choosing
the method of transcendence—which of course is the greatest
incompatibility that lies between religions themselves. No doubt
religious believers will deny that transhumanism, with its focus on
technology and physicalism, can ever truly achieve anything
approaching genuine transcendence. However, transhumanists can
reply that religion’s admitted inability to describe what the
transcendent state of Nirvana or the Beatific Vision will be
suggests that there is no clear way to compare these states. After
all, some transhumanists have their own version of ineffable
existence—the post-Singularity transhuman consciousness.[10] For both religious believers and
transhumanists, the transcendent state may only be described
negatively (not mortal, not limited, not suffering), and may be no
more conceivable for us than a roach could conceive of what is it
like to be Plato. So, having a specific and clear and materialist
understanding of transcendence as opposed to an ineffable and
mystical understanding of transcendence is not what separates
religion and transhumanism. What separates them is the idea that
physically restructuring our bodies can move us towards some
worthwhile transcendent state.
There are roughly four
ways to achieve transcendence, with transhumanism introducing the
fourth as a real possibility.
1.
Belief/Faith (accepting propositions, taking attitudes)
2.
Obedience (to moral codes or rituals)
3.
Practices (meditation, music, etc.)
4.
Technology
Transhumanism and religion
will often disagree on 1 (just as rival religions do). Even in
this, however, there may be an exception—a physicalist co-creator
theology, in which technology is understood as part of the ongoing
process by which God perfects creation—an attractive but much in the
minority point of view. As transhumanism becomes more widely known,
and as improved technologies allows us to actually make real,
fundamental changes in the world, this specifically religious
transhumanism (sharing many elements of process theology) may become
a genuine movement.
Currently speaking,
however, when it comes to beliefs and metaphysics, transhumanists
will think that 4 should be used precisely because they don’t share
the specifics of 1 with the religionists. This incompatibility
won’t be that much more radical than difference in faith claims
between religions. What is much more fundamentally at odds, is a
difference in attitudes rather than metaphysics.
Religious believers will
often think that method 1 and 2 rule out method 4 because 4 is all
about the sin of pride and self-aggrandizement. This is the moral
of the common interpretation of the Tower of Babel story, and often,
the Fall story (Hopkins 2002). Transhumanists will be seen as
committing the worst possible sin in the Judeo-Christian
tradition—hubris, trying to make themselves gods or equal to God.
In seeking transcendence through their own creation, transhumanists
will viewed as recommitting the oldest sin in the Book (literally).
Expect to see more and more references to Eve’s hunger for knowledge
and autonomy, the Tower of Babel, and Satan’s fall.
There is also likely to be
a marked incompatibility with Christianity in understanding the
psychology of faith. In his most important work, “The Christian
Faith,” theologian Friederich Schleiermacher specified religious
feeling as the "feeling of absolute dependence." He has certainly
been criticized by many other theologians (often wrongly due to the
perception that he was anti-reason), but to the extent he is right,
this position will be at great odds with transhumanism, which
strongly focuses on not feeling dependent on anybody (Ferre 1993,
30).[11]
Finally, when it comes to
other traditions that focus more on practices than beliefs and
attitudes, transhumanism will see 3 as a vain attempt to do what 4
can eventually do better and faster. This may be especially true
with Buddhism. It is this sort of attitude, which will be viewed as
selfish, impatient, and adolescent, that will strike many religious
believers as an essential immaturity about transhumanism.
Complementarity
When it comes to the
question of whether transhumanism and religion can be complementary,
the answer is that this will be the constant practical battlefield.
When is technology permissible, when does it help achieve religious
goals, and when has it gone “too far”?
The practical issue will
be whether technology can be understood as in support of God,
salvation, or enlightenment when it promotes significant changes in
the heretofore normal range of phenomena and human nature. That is,
when is technology just using our God-given intelligence to make
morally and religiously appropriate changes in our lives, and when
is technology overstepping some boundary into competition with
religion?
This is more complicated
than simply the issue of whether some technology is morally in sync
with or counter to some religious teaching—such as whether
anesthesia can be used in childbirth (does it contravene Eve’s
curse), whether in vitro fertilization can be used (does it
contravene the natural purpose of sex), or whether embryos can be
cloned to produce genetically autologous stem cell transplants (does
this kill ensouled bodies). These debates are debates about moral
doctrines in cases where technology permits some new activity. The
kind of debate I am thinking about here is more fundamental to
religion because the technology involved concerns human nature and
the very character of the spiritual impulse.
These sorts of debates are
already nascently present in disputes over psychotropic medications,
such as Prozac, where some argue that such drugs produce an
inauthentic person and others argue that it allows us to approach
all aspects of human experience, including spirituality, more
healthily. We also see this sort of issue in an only mildly secular
form in the increasing debate over cognitive and bodily
enhancement—questions of what the limits to medicine are and to what
extent we should be allowed to change human nature.
What will happen in all
these debates is a focus on the concept of the “human” as a moral
limit, with repeated concerns about authenticity (being genuinely or
truly human) and crossing some boundary (going too far and
endangering our humanity or our dignity). This sort of language,
however, is mostly a veneer or a substitute for the actual religious
framework of the issue, in which the references will be to intruding
into God’s territory and trying to accomplish for ourselves
something that only God should accomplish (Hopkins 2002). The issue
will be how to draw the line between technology that assists us in
living as God would want and technology that moves us away from God.
Antagonism
It is here that we start
to see a genuine practical enmity between religion and
transhumanism. As transhumanism begins to achieve notoriety, many
religious adherents will increasingly see it as a threat and make
the following sorts of criticisms:
First, transhumanism is
pointless and distracting: material technology will never
accomplish what it seeks, so the pursuit of it simply wastes time,
money, and energy. The transcendence that transhumanists may be
seeking is only available through God, who will accomplish it
infinitely more justly and effectively than we ever could—at least
for the faithful—so why bother?
Second, transhumanism is
sinful: motivated by pride, it seeks to usurp God or play God.
Especially for Christianity, this is where the true antagonism will
lie. Transhumanism will be seen as a movement that draws people
away from God to “worship” at their own self-aggrandizing Tower of
Babel (of diabolical origin for fundamentalists, of egoistic origin
for liberals). As such, transhumanists will be seen as dangerous,
selfish, self-idolaters.
Third, transhumanism is a
false religion: while transhumanism will no doubt be criticized as
something which is contrary to the very heart of the religious
impulse (since it is allegedly selfish and materialistic and
soulless), it will also be criticized as a kind of false religion
(in the way that Marxism, atheism, and evolution have been
criticized for “worshipping” something other than God). This is
where transhumanism will have one of its biggest public relations
difficulties. Most transhumanists would not consider their “ism” a
religion since it has no scripture, doesn’t appeal to a God, doesn’t
advocate specifically spiritual relationships with any transcendent
realm, and doesn’t presume to answer any ultimate questions of
purpose. However, unlike secular humanism, which can jettison a
great number of religious concepts, transhumanism is rife with
religion-analogs. In the Singularity it has an apocalypse or
rapture or age of enlightenment; in cryonics it has life after
death; in uploading it has a heaven; in bionanotechnology it has
“putting on incorruptible bodies”;[12] in generous cyborgs it has
boddhisatvas, and so on. It can’t help but seem to long-standing
religions as a pale and vacuous reflection of their own beliefs[13];
as a form of heresy[14]);
as a cognitively dissonant threat to their beliefs; or even as a
temptation to leave the true fold.
Ultimately, religious
followers will be among the most vocal in calling for criminalizing
biotechnological enhancements (as they are already the most vocal in
resisting therapeutic cloning and genetic engineering).[15] To the extent that transhumanists
gain publicity and further systematize their own goals and
worldview, they will draw the ire of religious critics. This is
already beginning to happen as various stripes of transhumanists
form organizations whose goal is to protect the liberty to enhance.[16]
Right now, such organizations are mostly under the radar,
but when they become more noticeable, opposing organizations will
target them as dangerous, radical, fringe groups. If the
criminalization of enhancement takes off, eventually transhumanists
will feel oppressed as transcending technologies are denied to them.[17]
An underground market in enhancement technology will develop. In
many ways, transhumanists may begin to function in structurally
similar ways to oppressed religious groups (meeting secretly to
advance their “doctrines” and their search for transcendence). Of
course, none of this will be so simple as an us/them dichotomy. As
technology advances and actual changes to such things like longevity
are available, many people, religious or not, will want to take
advantage of the new knowledge.
Substitution
Finally, and most
speculatively, there could be all sorts of transformed ideas and
practices that interconnect religion and transhumanism. Following
the path of complementarity, the religious impulse could make use of
technologies that produce or magnify what have long been called
“religious” or “mystical” experiences. The use of entheogenic drugs
or cranial magnetic stimulation are just a couple of current
possibilities that someone might use to achieve such
experiences—which are perhaps merely extensions of age-old practices
like using peyote or meditating (Ramachandran and Blakeslee 1998,
175).
Those who use
transhumanizing technologies as part of their religious journey may
develop new forms of religion that spin off in a variety of ways,
from the idea that technology actually allows us to connect to the
supernatural,[18] to the idea that God is a
technologically observable physical phenomena that requires no
belief in the supernatural—spiritual technology on the one hand,
machine augmented naturalistic religion on the other.
There is also the possible
line of thinking that religion has been factually wrong but
ideologically correct and perhaps technology can eventually make
religion’s hopes come true. Conceivably, technology could allow us
to rework the world and ourselves into the shape of religious
images—as science fiction writers have imagined—a “heaven” full of
immortal beings. This might be as predictable as getting rid of
disease, want, and mortality or include odd things such as
genetically engineering lions that really would lie down with lambs
or changing ourselves so radically that we exist as quasi-embodied
consciousnesses in technogenerated states of bliss. Though
completely and inspiringly full of danger, pretension, hope, and
unrealistic dreaminess, such a view might be the final realization
of Ludwig Feuerbach’s claim that theology is anthropology, by which
he partly meant that God is the projection of the best and ideal
parts of ourselves: “Thus do things change. What yesterday was
still religion, is no longer such today; and what today is atheism,
tomorrow will be religion” (1989, 32). An atheist like Feuerbach
lets even skeptics see religious ideals as truly worthy of
realization. Technology lets us see religious ideals as
literally realizable.
Conclusion
Transhumanism is not a
religion, but neither is it in any way necessarily anti-religious,
and one can think of many ways in which it could be pro-religious or
even just religious. There is a wide variety of ways the
relationship between transhumanism and religion can work out and in
general the friendliness or enmity between them will depend on even
wider worldviews which can distinguish types of transhumanism and
types of religion themselves. In large part, the difference between
the broad worldviews will center on the attitude one has toward
“nature.” If one’s attitude toward nature (the given world) is that
nature as it is indicates what nature (and human nature) should be,
then “tampering” with nature will be seen as sinful, improper,
immoral, unwise, or illegitimate. This will be true whether the
worldview is held by Roman Catholics, atheist environmentalists, or
romantic humanists. If, however, the attitude toward nature is that
it merely represents a current state, and not a culminating harmony,
or final ideal, or eternally reflected fixed image, then altering it
can improve it, a position more likely to be heard favorably by
liberal protestants, Buddhists, and technopagans, among others.
Understood this way, transhumanism is naturalistic but opposed to an
ethics of natural law, an ideology that more emphatically than any
other previous belief system looks at the world and looks at
ourselves, and says “we can be better than this,” whether that
belief is motivated by a religious impulse, or whether it is not.
References
Alexander, B. 2003. Rapture: How Biotech Became the New
Religion. New York: Basic Books.
Aquinas. 1964. Treatise on Happiness, trans. John A.
Oesterle. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.
Boethius. 1999. The Consolation of Philosophy, trans. P. G.
Walsh. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Ferre, F. 1993. Hellfire and Lightning Rods: Liberating
Science, Technology, and Religion. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books.
Feuerbach, L. 1989. The Essence of Christianity, trans.
George Eliot. Amherst: Prometheus Books. For a slightly different
online translation, see
http://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/feuerbach/works/essence/ec01_2.htm
(accessed June 20 2005).
Hook, C. C. “The Techno
Sapiens Are Coming” Christianity Today, January 2004
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/001/1.36.html (accessed
June 20 1005).
Hopkins, P. 2002. “Protecting God From Science And Technology: How
Religious Criticisms of Genetic Engineering, Cloning and other
Biotechnologies Backfire,” Zygon: A Journal of Religion and
Science, vol. 37, no. 2., pp. 373-342.
Hopkins, P. 2003. “Barbie Bodies, Bacon Bodies, Plato Bodies,
Nietzsche Bodies: Differing Visions Of How Biotechnology Should Be
Used To Transform Human Bodies.” The Adaptable Human Body:
Transhumanism and Bioethics in the 21st Century, Conference
Presentation, Yale University, New Haven CT. (June 17-19).
Martineau, J. 1888. A Study of Religion, Vol. 1. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
McCarthy, P. 2000. “Phantoms in the Brain: Human Nature and the
Architecture of the Mind,” Damaris Online,
http://www.damaris.org/dcscs/readingroom/2000/phantoms.htm
(accessed June 20 2005).
“People of Faith,” World Transhumanist Association, 2005,
http://transhumanism.org/index.php/WTA/communities/religious/
(accessed June 20 2005).
Pojman, L. 1986. Religious Belief and the Will. London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul Books Ltd.
Rahula, W. 1959. What the Buddha Taught. New York: Grove
Press.
Ramachandran, V. and Blakeslee, S. 1998. Phantoms in the Brain.
New York: William Morrow and Company.
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June 19, 2005).
Notes
[1]
An earlier version of this paper was presented at the
Symposium on Faith, Transhumanism, and Hope, University
of Toronto, Toronto ON Canada (August 5, 2004). My thanks
to the listeners at that conference for their comments.
[2]
I do not in any way assume here that animals are themselves
actually lacking in consciousness, emotion, or value. My
point in using the term “animal” here is not to assume a
reductive anthropocentric stance, but to use “animal” as the
quintessential “other” to humanity’s claims of spiritual
uniqueness. “Animal” stands here as a trope of the
mechanistic, unthinking brute driven by instinct and lacking
spiritual value—a position which I thinks grossly
misrepresents the actual phenomenal lives of many nonhuman
organisms.
[3]
Crudely put, some people say that we have to be more than
simply eating and shitting machines (a phrase used by
religionists sometimes as a description of what biologists
say we are).
[4]
See Ecclesiastes 3: 18-22.
[6]
Even existence in hell, though horrible, would transcend
animal existence in terms of mortality.
[7]
Or “ensouled bodies” in some traditions. The soul is what
makes you the individual you are in either case.
[8]
Even when believers frame salvation as a “free gift” or
“unconditional gift” it still seems that there is some sort
of condition for salvation. Many times they will say God
won’t save you against your will and so in this sense
salvation is up to you to accept, but usually there is some
indication of acceptance that is expected—belief, trusting
attitude, something. The problem of how belief may be a
condition of salvation is discussed in Pojman 1986.
[9]
And if the response here is that there is no difference,
then this is likely meant as a joke. The fact of it being a
joke means that we can make a distinction. If someone truly
thinks fandom and Christianity are phenomena of the exact
same type, then they would appear to be reducing religion
merely to emotional involvement.
[10]
See http://www.transhumanism.org/resources/Readings/Singularity.htm
[11]
But, as Ferre’s comments suggest, if we instead take Paul
Tillich’s standard of faith as our “ultimate concern” then
we might think of transhumanism as quite religious.
[12]
Cf., I Corinthians 15:51-57 (KJV).
[13]
McCarthy writes of transcranial magnetic stimulation: “But
the 'God' whom the patients in the book experience seems to
have very little to do with the God of the Bible. Though
their experiences are interpreted religiously, they seem to
have a lot more to do with delusions of grandeur than
examples of Christian humility. There is no moral
ingredient; they resemble altered states certainly but it is
not the same as Christian experience.”
[14]
C. Christopher Hook writes: “Transhumanism is in some ways
a new incarnation of gnosticism. It sees the body as simply
the first prosthesis we all learn to manipulate. As
Christians, we have long rejected the gnostic claims that
the human body is evil. Embodiment is fundamental to our
identity, designed by God, and sanctified by the Incarnation
and bodily resurrection of our Lord.”
[15]
Though not just religious people, by any means. Many
environmentalist also make such calls, and I would argue
that “Nature” in some environmentalist ideology functions
similarly to “God” in some religious ideologies.
[17]
And I suspect that in this sort of politics, strange
bedfellows will be formed by the alliance of religious
groups, who will oppose enhancement for religious reasons
and secular humanist groups, who will be frightened by the
reality of enhancement they don’t see in religion.
[18]
After all, since our physical sensory systems like eyes,
ears, and skin are sometimes capable of detecting
supernatural presences and emissions in revelatory moments
according to most religious traditions (the voice of God,
the Light of God) then why couldn’t artificial sensory do
likewise?
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