Has organised humanism had its day?

By Maggie Hall

In this article, Maggie considers the future of organised humanism at the local level, questioning whether campaigning and discussion are enough – or whether humanist groups need to find new, more practical ways to serve their communities.

Maggie is a retired teacher of speech and drama, a former Chair of Brighton Humanists, a member of the Humanists UK Dialogue Network, and a Humanists UK School Speaker.

I have no doubt that humanism itself does have a future. There will always be people who have a humanist outlook. People who have no religious beliefs but wish to lead fulfilled and effective lives based on reason, logic and empathy. People with a strong sense of justice and compassion for others. People who are acutely aware that this life is the only one of which we can be certain and that this world is the only one that we know to exist. People who believe, therefore, that it is imperative we do our utmost to make it as good as we can for as many as we can, in the desperately short time that we are here.

What I do have doubts about, however, is the future of organised humanism. Most humanist groups that I know of are struggling to attract members, and those they do have tend to be largely in the older age group. Some groups have folded altogether, and even when new ones are formed, they often do not seem to last very long.

Humanists UK remains very active at the national level as a campaigning organisation, advocating changes in the law on issues such as assisted dying, faith schools and compulsory worship in schools. But at the grassroots level there does not seem to be much support. There are, of course, humanist groups that are still strongly active in their communities and manage to attract members, but as far as I can see, they are very rare.

The reasons for this are not entirely clear, but I do wonder whether one factor may be that being non-religious, yet still socially conscious, is now far more the norm than it was when the modern humanist movement first arose in the nineteenth century and throughout much of the twentieth. Back then, humanists were in the minority, and the non-religious had to present a robust front simply to have their voices heard at all.

I’m not at all suggesting that we no longer need to remain vigilant about religious privilege, or about insidious religious fundamentalism seeking to gain a foothold in our society, including within our education system. But if organised humanism is to flourish, it also needs to look beyond these issues and consider what it can do to remain relevant in today’s world.

Simply holding a monthly meeting with a speaker no longer attracts people. They can find that online. There are many interesting lectures and debates available on YouTube for those who want them, without having to go out on a cold winter’s night to sit in a draughty hall or a dark room above a pub.

To remain relevant today, organised humanism needs to stop appealing primarily to a relatively small intellectual audience content to be part of a talking shop, and instead find ways to connect with ordinary people at the grassroots level.

There is much to be done at the local level to help make this world a better place for everyone, whether religious or not. The threats to humanity – and indeed to all life – go far beyond religion alone. The greatest, and the one that worries me most, is the climate crisis. Unless that threat is addressed as soon as possible, questions about the legality of humanist marriage ceremonies or whether there are prayers in council chambers will become irrelevant. We will be far more concerned about whether our homes are under water, or how we are going to survive increasingly inhospitable summer temperatures.

The ordinary person in the street, whether religious or not, is worried about the cost of living, whether their children are on drugs or involved in knife crime, whether they can get a doctor’s appointment, and whether their ethnicity, sexual orientation, cultural background or gender makes them a target for far-right hatemongers. They’re not interested in cosy intellectual discussions.

I don’t pretend to know what the answer is. Perhaps there is no longer a need for organised humanist groups, at least in areas where religion is not prominent. Or perhaps groups should become more visible in their local communities through practical initiatives – such as providing community kitchens, organising community larders with excess food from local supermarkets, pensioners’ lunches, coffee mornings for the lonely, school uniform exchanges, and baby banks distributing essential items for babies and young children to families who can’t afford them. After all, this is what many churches do, and it seems to work quite well for them.

Of course, many humanists are already involved in such activities and consider them part of their humanism. But is there, perhaps, a case for humanist groups to do them as a way of representing humanism more visibly? Alternatively, should those of us who involve ourselves in community activities take the opportunity to draw attention to the fact that we are humanists? Should we become evangelists for humanism? I know some humanists believe this, but personally I find evangelists of all kinds irritating, and I cannot think of a better way to put people off.

So what this ultimately boils down to is whether those of us currently involved in organised humanism at the local level have the will, the energy and the vision to keep going – or whether the most sensible course is to acknowledge that perhaps local humanist groups have had their day. What do you think?

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References and further reading

Humanists UK

Humanists International