What makes us human? Well, we’d have to define “human”, wouldn’t we? Apart from the trivial meaning of simply “pertaining to a member of the Homo sapiens species”, the word is usually used in two ways, which are related . . .
1) Characteristic of people as opposed to God or animals or machines, especially in being susceptible to weaknesses: they are only human, and therefore mistakes do occur; the risk of human error.
2) Characteristic of people’s better qualities, such as kindness or sensitivity: the human side of politics is getting stronger.
These definitions are straight out of Apple’s dictionary and are probably typical.
Here we see the qualities that we hope are to be found in us . . . and it’s noticeable that they are not the qualities of accumulating riches or power, or dominating what surrounds us. On the contrary, the qualities that we instinctively feel make us special as a race are the opposite of what so much of the world actually strives for. We apparently admire vulnerability, consciousness of our own weakness, and consideration of the sensibilities of other beings around us.
So it doesn’t take 700 words to define what makes us human – by common consent, it’s kindness. But if this is the general perception of what there is to be proud of in human behaviour, why is it that, when we look around, so often we see the very opposite? We see decisions being made purely on the basis of money, or to benefit the careers of those wielding power. We see people being cruel to children, to the disadvantaged, and to the other creatures with whom we share this glistening blue planet. We see people enjoying the pain they can inflict on other beings, and vigorously defending their right to do so as a “civil liberty”. It’s almost impossible to believe, but there are people at this moment working night and day to keep hold of their right to indulge in despicable cruelty.
Once upon a time it was legal to keep black men in chains, to burn so-called witches at the stake, to dig out badgers and use them as “bait” for training dogs to be vicious, to hunt wild animals with packs of dogs that would rip the quarry limb from limb. All of these things are now illegal, but there are still teams of people working to bring back blood sports – these inhuman behaviours. And they are supported by many rich and powerful people in Britain today.
It’s worse than this. Just as the laws that protect children from abuse are flouted behind closed doors, and time and time again atrocities are exposed, the laws, such as they are, against wildlife crime are routinely being broken in our countryside. Law and order have broken down. Thousands of badgers are being slaughtered and thrown on the roads. Fox hunts regularly hunt foxes to death, in contempt of the law, which the present regime is refusing to enforce. The sickening practice of badger-baiting is rife and actually increasing.
It appears that the inhuman side of humans is winning. But it will win only if we let it. It has been said that, for evil to flourish, it takes only a few good men to do nothing about it.
Perhaps, after all, the almost laughable simplistic generalisation is true. Perhaps there are two kinds of human being. On the one hand, are those who understand that we are all – human and non-human – just animals, and that the gift which has been given to Man is awareness, to make the world a kind place for all. And, on the other hand, are those who don’t “get it”; who cling to the idea that Man, or more accurately they, are the only thing that really matters on this planet, and that all other beings –men, women, children and animals – are to be used and abused at their pleasure.
It is shocking. But after the past few years, in which I have seen so much awful cruelty, and so much shining goodness, it seems to me that the good can never persuade the bad to change. The amount of wasted effort is enormous and depressing. All we can hope for is a decent, benign, compassionate government one day which will outlaw cruelty of all kinds, and enforce decent behaviour on those who cannot see that they are doing anything wrong. That has been the pattern in the past.
But are we human? Are we a humane race? Looking around at the concrete world we have created, in which the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and the weak become persecuted to extinction, I seriously wonder if we have the right to call ourselves, as a race, human. We have a hell of a long way to go.
Brian May is a guitarist, formerly with the rock band Queen, and an astrophysicist This article is the third in a series published in association with BBC Radio 2 and the Jeremy Vine show