Quo Vadis, Humanitas?

According to an old legend from the early days of the Church, St. Peter attempted to flee from Rome during Nero’s persecution (around the year 66 AD). On his way out of town, he encountered (to his great surprise) Jesus, who was carrying his cross into the city. Peter asked him, “Where are you going, Lord?” (in Latin, Quo vadis, Domine?). Jesus responded, “I am going to Rome to be crucified again.” Peter then understood that it was his responsibility, as the bishop of Rome, to return to the city, even if he should face martyrdom. Peter was, in fact, martyred by crucifixion during Nero’s persecution. Today, the question “Quo vadis?” is meant to prompt people to consider their goals, direction, or purpose carefully.

In recent months, the International Theological Commission prepared a document concerning “Christian anthropology in the face of certain scenarios for the future of humanity.” Victor Cardinal Fernandez, the Prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, obtained the approval of Pope Leo XIV and ordered the document’s publication in February. The title of the document is Quo Vadis, Humanitas? (Where are you going, humanity?).
Perhaps the question applies to many situations, but it is certainly appropriate in this document. A Christian understanding of what it means to be human sometimes conflicts with the aims of science and technology to promote healthier, longer lives. It is not the case that all such proposed improvements are wrong, but any attempt to improve human life must keep in mind what it means to be human.

The document identifies two problematic ideologies: transhumanism and posthumanism. Transhumanism holds that we should use science and technology to overcome all human limitations, including aging and even death; posthumanism rejects the traditional understanding of humanity and suggests that greater perfection will be found in a future human-machine hybrid. Both ideologies aim to improve human life, but Quo Vadis, Humanitas? argues that they miss the mark by failing to recognize and respect the uniqueness of human nature.

The consideration of movements such as transhumanism and posthumanism should include a proper understanding of transcending, or “going beyond,” in terms of our humanity. It is not inherently wrong to strive for better health, greater physical strength, greater feats of achievement, or even longer life. Our desire for these goals, however, should be understood as an effort to surpass what has been done before, rather than to replace or even suppress our human nature. The uniqueness and dignity of our human nature are always at risk when someone tries to create a hybrid of a human being and another species, but the risk seems even more serious in the theoretical case of a human-machine hybrid.

Quo Vadis, Humanitas? reminds readers of the words of Pope Benedict XVI: “A person’s development is compromised if he or she claims to be solely responsible for producing what he or she becomes” (Caritas in Veritate, 68). We are created by God; our lives, our nature, our gifts, our abilities are given to us by God. It is not our place to become sole creators of ourselves. It would be even more dehumanizing to consider the human body to be mere “biological material to be enhanced, transformed, and remodeled at will” (Quo Vadis, Humanitas?, 47).

Quo Vadis, Humanitas? also challenges society to consider the implications of movements such as transhumanism and posthumanism that may not be immediately obvious. The first is that there is an implied “negative judgment on the human condition as it is, and ultimately on its identity.” When dissatisfaction with the human condition takes hold, it encourages the idea of reinventing it. 

The second implication is the “dream of individualistic and elitist perfectionism,” in light of which individuals who decline to submit to these movements might be regarded as less important or even unwanted. The third implication is “the social impact of this view of humanity.” If the outcome of either transhumanism or posthumanism is to produce an elite class, then nonconformists may be excluded from some of the social benefits others would enjoy. Moreover, who would decide how these benefits are allocated?

The fourth implication is “the generally negative view of religious experience,” since the religious view (that the human body and human nature are gifts from God, who is the proper author of both) would discourage research into these transformations (Quo Vadis, Humanitas?, 57-60). The Church, in her wisdom, is right to warn society of the real possibility that these consequences could follow upon widespread acceptance of transhumanism and posthumanism.

To get to the heart of the matter, transhumanism and posthumanism seem to disregard the true transformation that is proper to every person: our transformation in Christ. He has called us to be partakers in the life of the Resurrection, and His call does not depend on any scientific or technological process. Perhaps the best response to these philosophies is the words of St. Paul: “I urge you, brothers, by the mercies of God, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, so that you may discern what the will of God is, what is good and pleasing and perfect” (Romans 12:2).