“Giving in” to perfectibility and the path to fundamentalism

    In an earlier blog, I argued that there was no Rule Book, no certain way to know what was Right and what was Wrong.  Would it were that life was perfectible – things would be so much easier!
    Sad to say that there are many, many people today, and all around the world, who have succumbed to the attraction of this direction on The Path with Two Questions.  They answer the question “Is life perfectible?” with an often bellicose bellow of “Yes!  And we know the Way!  Follow us to Perfection!”
    I believe this desire to live in a perfectible world, to avoid the fear of uncertainty is behind the rise in fundamentalism, of all types, that we seem to be suffering. 

The Path to Fundamentalism

    There is a darkness that comes with this belief in perfectibility.  The number of people who want life to be perfectible, who are heavily invested in their own notion of what that the perfect path looks like, is huge and, I fear, growing rapidly.   Figure X shows one path for those who answer “yes” to this first question. 

Down this path lies all fundamentalism or orthodoxies.  We know, say the fundamentalists, the Way, the Path, the Book, the Law.  (The sense of that last sentence will be enhanced if it is read with the article “the” pronounced with a long letter e.)   Is life perfectible?  Of course, they say, and the path to perfection looks exactly like this. . . .  Follow these rules, stay on the path, be orthodox in mind and behavior, and you will be part of a perfectible project. 
    By Ehrenfeld’s definition, all fundamentalists are a kind of Humanist.  They believe they know the path to perfection.  Not all fundamentalists are religious fanatics.  Some fundamentalists are religious and some are secular.  That person you work with, who seems to believe that there is a complete set of organizational rules which, if discovered and rigidly followed, would make everyone’s work perfect, is a fundamentalist without regard to his or her religion.  The philanthropist who is convinced that more and better testing of school children will make cure the ills of public education, the neo-liberal who believes that heaven on earth is achievable through an unfettered marketplace.  If you are certain you know the Way, you’re probably a fundamentalist. 
    Religious fundamentalists are a type of Humanist (a nod to the ambiguity of that word) who believe that the Path has been revealed, usually through prophesy or the provision of sacred texts.  Religious fundamentalists believe they have been shown the Way, and that straying from this Path is sinful.  But close adherence to “The Rules” in “The Book” will lead to perfection, often the promise of a messianic age.
    Note, however, that in this scenario, it is obvious to even the most casual observer that a lot of people die before the perfection promised by the project appears.  I know, says this observer, that we are all headed for a perfect moment sometime in the future, but I was sort of hoping to be one of the people who reached it, not just one of the billions who made progress along the way, but who died before the moment was reached.  It is not easy to keep people on the Path when it is clear that all of us keep dying before we reach our perfect place.  The promise of a perfect after-life helps to assure compliance with the Rules.  “Do what is stated as Righteous in the Book, the Path, the Way, the Law,” say their leaders, “and all will be well with you and with all of us, when we reach our Reward after death.  We will all be in a perfect place, for eternity.” 

I am not perfectible; none of us are

    I find humanism impossible to accept.  As much as I would like a perfect Rulebook, there is, I believe, simply no such thing as human perfectibility.  Every lesson I have drawn from my experiences indicates that all things human are inevitably subject to error.  I reject fundamentalism because no Rulebook that has ever been offered to me felt compelling, in light of my sense of rationality and in comparison with my own experiences.   Therefore I believe there is no such thing as a perfect way of answering the question, “Are my actions morally superior to your actions?” 
    You hear lots of people say that humans are not capable of perfect systems.  “To err is human.”  But too often, the speaker doesn’t pause to think about the ramifications of that simple notion.
    The implications of rejecting humanism and fundamentalism are profound.  If there is no perfect road map for leading the Good life, then how do we judge how to lead the life we have?  Does life, in fact, have meaning?  If we answer No to the first question on Figure X, then the second question is inevitable.  A belief in perfectibility would give my life meaning.  Under that standard, what does it mean to lead a Good life?  It means to follow the Path of perfectibility.  But, if life is not perfectible, then does my life have meaning?  In other words, if you convince me that the seeming purpose of my life, which was to achieve the “perfect place,” is illusory, then what gives my life meaning?  The question of meaning is answered by the perfection project, but if that isn’t going to happen, then I am stuck with the question of meaning again.  If I can’t lead a perfect life, is it still possible to lead a Good life?
    As we think about letting go of our hope for perfection, and as we look out into a hazy terrain down our path, the uncertainty is frightening.  That fear draws us back to humanism and its fundamentalist cousins.  The more we fear the uncertainty, the more strongly we grab hold of our hope for perfection.  We “give in” to the temptation of the perfect path.  If all I get from rejecting perfectibility is dark uncertainty, well, thanks, but no thanks.  I’ll stick with my Way.  We want so strongly the certitude promised by the illusion that we will fiercely defend, die for, and, unfortunately, kill for the triumph of the Way.