The Image of the Divine: a Philosophical Look at Human Dignity

VALERIE LUNDEEN

In November 2018, Chinese scientist Dr. He Jiankui presented data indicating he had used Crispr, a revolutionary gene-editing technique, to alter the genes of human embryos. The scientific community raged, and the niche world of academic research was thrust into a rare news spotlight. Even non-STEM professors at UNC-Chapel Hill paused their classes the next day to discuss what He’s research meant for bioethics. The data have yet to be published or peer-reviewed, but even if there is no proof of gene-edited babies, the mere notion whizzes toward unbroken territory in bioethics. His research brought up discussions about not only informed consent and legality but philosophical conceptions of what it means to be human.

At UNC Hospitals, and at medical research and treatment centers around the world, ethical decisions regarding the human body are made every moment. Perhaps more relatable than the cutting edge of genetic science might be the questions palliative caretakers ask themselves every day: how can I respect this person and their family most, and what would bring most dignity to them, no matter their state? The question behind the questions of gene editing or end-of-life care—that’s a question we need to consider. Bioethics matter because human dignity matters, but “dignity” can sound like a buzzword. Lumped in with human rights, equality, and respect, “dignity” takes on almost a political connotation, and that’s before bioethics even comes into play. Its specific definition is treated as a secondary question.

For centuries, thinkers have presented various possible sources of the intrinsic worth of humanity. Philosophically, it is not enough simply to state that humans possess dignity and therefore must be respected. To ensure that dignity is upheld in society, it is necessary to identify and affirm its origin. We must explore the source of the so-called inherent value of a person.

This essay entertains two perspectives on the source of human dignity. The first is a reading of the Kantian perspective on dignity, the second, a “Christian” perspective. I argue the latter presents a fuller, more compelling picture of humanity, with meaningful implications for not only hospitals and bioethics centers, but our daily interactions with other human beings.

. . .

In his Groundwork on the Metaphysics of Morals, Immanuel Kant argues that one always should treat all other human beings with respect.1 However, the justification for that universal respect is unclear. Following the standard reading of Kant’s Groundwork, it is understood that one should respect all other humans by virtue of their inner worth, or inherent absolute value. In other words, humans possess “dignity.”2

German philosopher Oliver Sensen argues an alternative reading of Kant in a compelling essay, “Dignity and the formula of humanity.”3 Sensen argues that Kant does not base his argument for universal respect on any form of absolute value but that “dignity” refers to its original, Latinate meaning—dignitas, or having elevated worth and rank.4 Humans have a rational nature and are therefore free, according to Kant. That freedom necessitates that each human is an end to himself. Kant stipulated that humans shall not be treated as means, but as the subjects of all ends, or ends-in-themselves.5

There is normative implication to Kant’s insistence on humans as ends-in-themselves. Sensen writes: “Therefore, to say that an end-in-itself has absolute worth is merely to reformulate the normative component of ‘end-in-itself’—that is, that one should value human beings independently of whether one wants to.”6 Sensen goes on to argue that the normative implication to respect humans as separate, rational beings and not as means to an end follows not from any sort of absolute worth of humankind, but from only the ground of freedom that Kant lays out in relation to rationality.7

This interpretation completely reframes Kant’s oft-quoted discussion of “dignity.” The famous passage begins: “The practical necessity of acting in accordance with this principle [the formula of autonomy], that is, duty, does not rest at all on...inclinations...Reason accordingly...does so...from the idea of the dignity of a rational being, who obeys no law other than that which he himself at the same time gives.”8 Sensen argues that Kant’s view of dignity—not just in Groundwork, but throughout his other writings—is the ancient Roman sense of elevated worth, or dignitas. Having dignity, according to this interpretation, is to have a rank of some sort. Think “dignitary.” That rank may be between humans, as often it was in Ancient Rome, or between humans and the rest of nature.9

Following the latter view, Cicero argued that the human capacity for reason elevated humans above the rest of nature. It gave them dignity.10 Sensen writes that Kant refers to the elevated status, or dignity, of human beings compared to non-rational beings as due to their capacity for morality.11 Kant deems humans as having dignity on the grounds that persons are free, separate, and rational beings capable of morality and therefore elevated above other natural beings. Human dignity, according to Kant, is not grounded in an inherent value of humankind, but in the rational ability of humans.12 Kant rejects the idea that there is a “value property” outside of human beings that justifies their duty to respect each other.13 Instead, Kant premises the dignity of humans on their capability to reason and their capacity for morals.

Rationality as the basis of human dignity is problematic for the obvious reason that not all people have the same reasoning capacity. Are the disabled or the comatose “worth” less, according to Kant? Take Alzheimer’s. According to the Alzheimer’s Association, nearly 6 million Americans are living with the disease, and the number is projected to rise to 14 million by 2050. Symptoms include not only memory loss, but sometimes, an inability to learn new things. It’s devastating. While scientists are determined to research and treat the condition, there is still some lack of understanding about what causes Alzheimer’s and how it interacts with an array of other brain abnormalities. So, are the cognitive impairments associated with Alzheimer’s and other conditions detractions from an individual’s dignity? If rationality is the grounding principle for dignity, then the logical conclusion seems to be an unfortunate “yes.”

Any moral system that claims cognitive functioning as the foundation for human dignity may do so at the expense of morality. Neuroscientists can map the human brain, pointing out which areas correlate with what aspects of emotion or cognitive development. Recently, researchers from the UNC School of Medicine published preliminary findings on the ability of artificial intelligence to predict, with 95 percent accuracy, the cognitive development of a child at two years old.14 As fascinating and important as those findings are, they cannot demonstrate the common dignity shared by the owners of those brains. Machine learning, while it might lead to new discoveries on the human capacity for rationality, won’t get us very far in the search for a philosophical basis for human dignity.

Instead of rationality, consider that all humans—independent of their levels of cognitive functioning—share a common dignity. What if there were an absolute value of humanity such that disparity inability or rationality was of no importance to how a human being is valued? What if there were a more solid ground to the respect of persons than their rationality alone, and what if it had something to do with God?

. . .

In his book Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis argues that all humans are tethered to a moral sense that urges them to what they “ought” to do or “ought not” to do.15 Natural entities other than humans are governed by the laws of nature, observable through the actions or consequences of those entities. Rocks fall when dropped; rocks are “supposed” to fall when dropped, due to the law of gravity. Humans, however, do not always follow what they are “supposed” to do, according to moral law. Humans commit murder; humans are not “supposed” to commit murder. Humans feel within themselves that murder is wrong. And that feeling, Lewis says, originates from the moral law.16

Furthermore, if this moral law exists, Lewis writes, it must exist outside the individual human being. It compels humans beyond the constraints of time or culture.17 On the “religious” view of the universe, as Lewis dubs it, there is a force guiding the universe through the moral law.18 Lewis writes that there is philosophical reason to believe that there exists “...a Something which is directing the universe, and which appears in me as a law urging me to do right and making me feel responsible and uncomfortable when I do wrong.”19 The Something is the moral law-giver. The inner moral urge is a gauge for character, virtue. And that gauge contains a sensor for when someone’s sense of dignity has been trespassed.

Capacity to sense and respond to inner moral law, as Lewis describes, is one tenet of what Christians uphold as the distinct value of humankind. While it is ahistorical to think of Christianity as a single entity with common doctrines, the view on human dignity is one of the few tenets of Christian thought shared across all sects of the tradition.

Christianity affirms that those who bear the inner moral law (all humans) must respect other bearers of that same morality. On the Christian view, to disrespect a bearer of the inner moral law is to jeopardize their dignity. Christian theologians present the inner moral law as part of the reflection of the Divine—or the moral law-giver—upon humanity. They call this reflection the imago Dei, or the image of God. Humans, in this view, are bearers of that divine image. And bearing the Sacred within them bestows humans with the highest worth imaginable

. . .

The Christian view of dignity has the power to reshape each individual’s sense of self, and in turn, their view of others. Dignity defined by innate self-worth removes the focus from the circumstantial attributes of human lives and reorients attention toward the ways human lives reflect the nature of a common God. In his book Life Without Lack, Christian philosopher Dallas Willard writes, “I find it curious that we often speak about people thinking too highly of themselves. I don’t think that I have ever met a person who thought highly enough of himself.”20 How is it that humans do not think highly enough of themselves? They do not recognize and honor the imago Dei within themselves and their neighbors. Willard reminds us that the concern of humanity should not be the shallow inflation of the ego, but the deep cultivation of souls that haven’t yet realized just how immeasurably worthy they are of love. Willard insists that every human, as a bearer of the imago Dei, is a precious being with inherent value outside their mistakes or accomplishments. “People are valuable even if they’re doing nothing; we do not have to earn our value,” Willard writes.21

Willard argues that the intrinsic, image-of-God value of every person is something to be protected. The charge of humanity, he writes, is to protect the preciousness of every person we encounter by upholding and promoting their dignity. Doing so is a radical act because it is not how the world currently operates. As the reality of global poverty, inequality and war demonstrate, the preciousness of humanity is not currently guarded with urgency. Willard writes, “One of the hardest things for us to do—and this is true even for Christians—is to keep this preciousness and wonder in our minds as we approach every human being we deal with.”22 Imagine a world in which every human approached another with utmost respect for that person’s dignity, acknowledging that they are both reflectors of the image of God. C.S. Lewis, in “The Weight of Glory,” imagined such a world.23 Lewis writes:

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal... it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours... our merriment must be of that kind... which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously— no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.”24

If we were to interact with every person as a holy, immortal being who reflects the image of God, how might our world look different? Conscious recognition of the Divine in every person we encounter would cultivate a deep respect for the dignity of each person. Understanding and adopting a view of human dignity grounded in image-of-God theology has wonderful, beautiful implications—not for a clichéd “world as a better place,” or, “society as it should be,” but for the minutiae of our daily interactions with each other as human beings. The people we encounter every day are not mere expressions of genetic material who happen to be capable of rationality and therefore respectable. The people we study with, eat with, walk and struggle and celebrate with, they’re bearers of the holy nature of God.

1 Oliver Sensen, “Dignity and the formula of humanity,” in Kant’s Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals: A Critical Guide, ed. Jens Timmermann (Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 102-103.

2 Ibid., 103.

3 Ibid., 102-118.

4 Ibid., 115.

5 Ibid., 104, 106, 108-110.

6 Ibid., 110.

7 Ibid., 111-112.

8 Ibid., 117.

9 Ibid., 115.

10 Ibid., 116.

11 Ibid.

12 Ibid., 118.

13 Ibid., 117-118.

14 University of North Carolina Health Care. "AI and MRIs at birth can predict cognitive development at age 2." ScienceDaily. www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2019/03/190315100048.htm (accessed May 9, 2019). 15 Sensen, “Dignity and the formula of humanity,” pp. 18-20. 1

6 Ibid., 18-21.

17 Ibid., 20-21.

18 Ibid.,

19. 19 Ibid., 22.

20 Dallas Willard, Life Without Lack: Living in the Fullness of Psalm 23 (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2018), 55.

21 Ibid., 56.

22 Ibid., 54-55. 23 C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory: And Other Addresses (New York: HarperOne, 1949). 24 Ibid., 46.