Do we need humility?

Introduction: How can we live (humbly) today?

The way of human life and economic activity that has dominated for centuries without regard for fellow human beings is jeopardizing the future of life on our planet. It is probably even destroying it. Through violence and war, through unbridled greed for profit, through power and obscene wealth increased to absurd levels on the one hand, and the life-destroying disempowerment of countless people and poverty on the other, through the boundless and completely irresponsible destruction of the environment in the process of its economic exploitation.

Each and every one of us can know this.

In this context, I ask for an attitude that has fallen out of fashion:

humility.

I am asking about humility in the sense that it is meant seriously and honestly by those who claim it for themselves. Many politicians, after winning an election, and even more so after losing one, assure us that they accept the voters' verdict "with humility" and intend to abide by it.

I have my doubts as to whether this is sincere. I am not particularly interested in this kind of speech act about humility.

I need to formulate the current problem even more clearly. We live in an age in which all humility is being lost. From communication on social networks to the actions of political "elites." From fake news and hate mail, from manipulative and dishonest staging on social networks to the inhumane and, unfortunately, powerful actions of an Elon Musk or Donald Trump, who are completely indifferent to democracy, human rights, and the rule of law when it comes to asserting their political and economic interests. The prevailing mentality is one of having to win. A mentality of eliminating and destroying, or at least degrading opponents.

In this situation, humility requires presence of mind and resilience against humiliation by power. Humiliation comes in many forms. In bullying at work, in the schoolyard, or in shitstorms on the internet. Humiliation encounters and destroys in the threat—and often enough in the effective realization—of the withdrawal of social prestige, of prosperity, often enough in armed conflicts, of the destruction of life opportunities and lives.

Humility does not mean submissiveness. Healthy humility requires ego strength and strengthens it. Healthy humility practices walking upright, clarity in love and tenderness, as well as clarity and sometimes harshness in conflicts. Healthy humility is closely related to power in a life-affirming sense: power is courage to face life¹ . Healthy power not only strengthens individuals themselves, but also enables them to pass on power: as courage to face life in the sense of empowerment or affidamento, as has been presented, for example, in the civil rights, gender, and women's movements and in the church, for example, in intercultural and feminist pastoral care.

Healing humility never abandons the fundamental attitude of respect and appreciation. Not even towards people who become opponents.

But humility, like any human action, is ambivalent. There are forms of humility that endanger life opportunities and life itself. Making oneself small in conflicts within families, in romantic relationships, and in friendships. Showing subservience to political rulers and to powerful figures in the workplace. Ducking away when intervention is necessary: for example, when I notice people being teased or even abused on the subway because of their origin, appearance, or physical disability—and I withdraw into myself. Humility in the healing sense is not for people with a bent spine.

There's no question that this is difficult to achieve in one's own life.

Those who want to live humbly need self-awareness and self-reflection. Just as much as they need exchange and encouragement from others.

For this reason, this essay does not only contain theoretical considerations on humility. In the second part of the book, I suggest spiritual exercises that can help to strengthen self-awareness and mindfulness. These spiritual exercises are not intended as training in a specific religion—that question is left open, and my invitation is extended to people of different religions and worldviews to engage in these exercises. I am certain that they are helpful. They reinforce an everyday spirituality that can enable us to approach life with gratitude and a zest for living: in short, with humility.

The question of healing humility is linked to the search for potential that offers stability and resilience in our precarious life situation. I am convinced that humility is part of this – if its shadows are perceived. And if it is understood why this attitude has so rapidly lost its plausibility. In this book, the shadows of humility are addressed in terms of problematic forms of submission to power and exploitation in gender relations. These destructive relationship patterns are examples of many others. I have already mentioned a few areas of conflict in which destructive humility is life-threatening—and healing humility can be a salvation.

The exercises in the second part of the book help to perceive and encourage healing humility in oneself and others. In a word: everyday spirituality as empowerment to get through life.

The dark side of humility can lose its power. The healing side must be practiced, lived, and encouraged. Only then will my hope be justified that humility can once again play a more important role in saving lives on our planet.

I write as a Protestant theologian. I will therefore repeatedly bring Christian and, in particular, Protestant traditions of piety into play. Just like humility, these traditions are ambivalent.

Self-assertion and self-realization—as opposites to an attitude of humility—have repeatedly been viewed as problematic concepts of life in Protestantism. However, a reformer like Martin Luther, with his criticism of self-centered people, could still assume that people, if left to their own devices, love themselves—self-love as a spontaneous, naturally effective emotion. Today, in view of the widespread social and psychological predisposition to depression, we can no longer assume this to be the case.

Feminist theologians have made it clear that women in particular, even in our society, which still offers opportunities on a global scale, often live in conditions in which the dual demands of relationship and paid work, and often enough also self-experienced sexual contempt and exploitation, undermine the spontaneous emotion of self-love.

The demand for humility has repeatedly been associated with a sour attitude toward the joy of sensuality and enjoyment of life. One consequence is a loss of plausibility and acceptance of Christianity as a whole for many of our contemporaries today: Why should I let the church constantly make me feel bad about what I enjoy most in life?

This book is a search for clues. The potential and shadows of humility are explored in as many facets as possible. At the same time, I try to take into account that I am certainly not the first and not the only one to think about humility. That is why I have repeatedly inserted texts into the running text – stories from the world of the Bible, fairy tales, statements from current media discourses.

Above all, however, I have asked contemporaries from a wide variety of professions and orientations for their original quotes. Among them are an engineer, a jazz musician, a sound engineer, a bishop, and pastors of different theological orientations.

This book begins with an exploration of what humility can mean for a wide variety of people. The rest of the book is divided into two parts:

In the first part, the attitude of argumentation prevails: I try to weigh up what is healing and what is potentially destructive about humility. This part of the book also includes the original quotes; in my perception, they are also mostly motivated by this question.

I title this first part of the book: Life – Experience – Reflection.

The second part of the book does not abandon the theme of humility. However, the approach to the subject changes. Here, I suggest spiritual exercises that are intended to show an existential path to opening oneself to one's own experience and life of humility. I have titled this second part of the book:

Meditating.

I hope that after reading this book, readers will be able to answer the question more clearly than before: What does humility mean to me? Do we need humility?

Hans-Martin Gutmann

¹See Paul Tillich, Wesen und Wandel des Glaubens (The Nature and Change of Faith). Berlin 1961, 1969, p. 115 ff. and in other writings.

Exploring the meaning of a term

When I started thinking about this book project on humility, I first had a series of conversations. I asked people I know, but whom I met mostly by chance that day: What do you think about humility? What makes you humble? Please don't think too hard about it. Just say whatever comes to mind when you hear this question!

These conversations made it clear to me that humility is a word that, at first glance, seems out of place in today's world. Few other terms evoke so many associations and so much resistance at the same time. To some, it sounds like piety; to others, like submission. For some, it is a fundamental spiritual attitude; for others, an ethical misunderstanding. And yet, on closer inspection, it becomes clear that humility is a key concept when it comes to the relationship between people and themselves, others, the world— and possibly God. It is an attitude that creates space: for self-criticism, for gratitude, for wonder. And it acts as a silent counterweight to overconfidence, fantasies of omnipotence, or mental laziness.

Humility cannot be demanded or artificially created. But it can be experienced, tested, and practiced—in love, in conflicts, in music, in nature, in history, and in everyday life. People from different walks of life have expressed their views on this. I summarize their thoughts and add my own reflections, which invite further thought and feeling.

"Humility is the courage that renews our hearts, far removed from heroism." – This is how M., a pastor and jazz musician, begins his multi-layered reflection on humility. For him, humility is a prerequisite for genuine self-criticism and deep devotion – especially in relationships. It is not an escape from responsibility, but often the opposite: a form of wisdom that is not tactical, but human. "I consider humility to be a prerequisite for self-criticism and the willingness to accept criticism without feeling hurt. I consider humility to be a condition for devotion of the joyful kind. Humility is not a suitable alibi for cowardice or laziness when it comes to fighting for a just and necessary cause." I find M.'s view of the late Pope Francis particularly moving—whose humility was expressed in small gestures: simple shoes, a modest apartment, compassion for refugees. And last but not least – humor. M. quotes Bonhoeffer, refers to Jesus' words, and ends his thoughts with a beautiful grounding: friends who tell us in a friendly, mocking way that we should "keep our feet on the ground."

I think M.'s contribution shows how multi-layered humility can be as a lived attitude – between spirituality, love, wisdom, and everyday life.

We continue with a voice that describes humility as an ambivalent experience between childhood memories and today's reality.

"Humility. That's one of the words that tastes both strange and familiar in my mouth." – N., bishop and mother, feels torn between two interpretations. In her professional reality, humility is rarely present – the pressure to be strong, determined, and assertive is too dominant. "Humility? That sounds like servility, resignation, submissiveness. Everything that counts today speaks against it: I push the limits of what is possible in every respect." And yet she remembers her grandmother's shaky handwriting in her poetry album: "Wherever God places you, stand with courage and humility." This memory gives the word new power – as a legacy, as an inner orientation, as a word from the heart.

Her thoughts show how humility can transcend generations—even if it hardly ever appears in everyday language.

What happens when we see humility not only as a virtue, but also realize its dark side?

"Like everything else in the world, humility is not unambiguous." – F., pastor and theological leader of a church parliament, considers humility in the tension between attitude to life and self-denial. He recalls forms of false humility: demonstrative, humiliating, sickening. And yet he holds on to it – as a path to inner beauty, to the lightness of being. He associates humility with generosity, compassion, humor – and with the profound insight: I am not the center of the world. In a religious context, this becomes an insightful perspective: I am part of a work of salvation that is greater than myself. "I am part of God's wonderful creation. This teaches me humility towards the Creator and respect for the world around me. I am not the central star of this reality, but a tiny speck of dust that can rejoice in the gigantic whole."

F. shows that humility does not have to be consistent in itself in order to be beneficial and liberating.

"Humility means not elevating oneself above others." – B., pastor and therapist, brings humility into the counseling session. For her, this means not believing that she herself has the solution – but rather accompanying the other person on their journey. She sees Pope Francis' foot washing as a practical image of genuine humility. At the same time, she emphasizes how much we owe to others – people, nature, relationships. "I also associate humility with gratitude, an attitude of thankfulness, and being aware that we owe ourselves to others, to other people, but also to other things. Life is a gift. From the very beginning, we can only live because other people provide for us, because we are in relationships, because we are connected, because we have oxygen to breathe and water to drink, because the earth is there for people to sow, harvest, and produce and process food. And because we are loved. I myself experience humility, for example, at the sea, when I realize that I am only a tiny part of the infinity of a greater whole." At the same time, B. reminds us of the dangers: that humility has been exploited, for example, against women, to legitimize power imbalances.

B.'s voice introduces a crucial aspect: humility as an antidote to megalomania—and as a force that fills us with gratitude and love.

Another interviewee offers an aesthetic and musical perspective on humility.

"With all my reverence for the great musicians, I have even more reverence for this little bird." – St., jazz bassist, describes how the blackbird on his balcony moves him more than any virtuoso jazz CD. In nature – especially in birdsong – he discovers a form of perfection that is neither studied nor learned. This experience puts human creativity into perspective and inspires awe – and thus humility. For him, it is a profound aesthetic and spiritual experience. "And then I have to say quite honestly that, with all my reverence for the great musicians, I have even more reverence for this little bird. It is definitely incredible and, in the variations it displays, also unsurpassed. It is a feeling of, yes, humility in the sense that our nature, even in acoustic or aesthetic terms, has so much to offer that we can sometimes see all our human achievements in perspective. I am not above everything, but part of it."

St.'s image reminds us that sometimes humility comes from listening—when we are allowed to perceive the world in a new way.

In the following conversation, humility is interpreted from a political, critical perspective.

"The individual is not a ruling being." – G., an activist, struggles with the term "humility" – and initially rejects it as a means of ideological oppression. But from her humanistic-Marxist perspective, it takes on new meaning: "Humans are creators of themselves, having appropriated the conditions in which they live over thousands of years, shaping both their social and natural environment. But: the individual is not a ruling being in this sense, and we can never be more than the sum of our history, experiences, relationships, and the way we shape them." Humility lies in the realization that we are never just individuals, but always also part of collective history, shaped by experiences and relationships. This attitude can make us humble—even without using the word—in the knowledge of the limitations of self-determination and the greatness of shared history.

G.'s contribution opens our eyes: humility does not have to be religious—it can also be a politically critical attitude toward power, history, and responsibility.

Finally, I was very moved by a conversation that deals with humility in a personal, concise, and quiet way, but I think that is precisely what makes it so powerful.

"I feel humility towards the idea of family." – F., an engineer and father, describes humility as an attitude towards life: in the face of nature, of life itself – and in the experience of family. "I feel humility before the big wide world and nature, before the life that surrounds us. I feel that I am a small being who should accept my surroundings as they are in order to live freely and relaxed within them. And I feel humility towards the idea of family, which is so big and important that many things quickly become secondary." In this attitude, one's own ego recedes to make room for something greater.

A quiet thought—and a powerful one: humility as a quiet yes to life.

I have learned a lot from my more or less chance conversations about humility. These conversations have encouraged me to write this little book. Humility is not a weakness. It is not subordination, retreat, or silent endurance. It is an attitude that protects people from arrogance, isolation, and the delusion of self-sufficiency. It connects us – with others, with something greater, with the world. Perhaps humility is ultimately nothing more than the dignity of wonder.

Book 1: Living – Experiencing – Reflecting

Humility is an existential attitude toward life

Albert Schweitzer recounts an experience that changed his life. While traveling on a boat down a river, he passes a herd of hippopotamuses and has a profound existential insight. This experience will illuminate the rest of his life:

"I am life that wants to live, surrounded by life that wants to live."

I think that is the answer to the question: "What is humility?"

What makes me humble?

The love of my beloved.

The intensity of tenderness and power of a loving encounter.

The birth of our daughter.

The relationship with our grandchildren. Two boys, twins, now four years old. Full of charm, zest for life, and love.

The feeling of happiness when small children— back then our daughter, today our grandchildren— come out unscathed from dangerous and sometimes life-threatening situations. For example, in traffic.

The experience of reliability and friendship, even when I've messed up.

The experience of still getting back on my feet despite frequent and severe setbacks during my long illness.

Thank you, God.

The speed at which four-year-olds learn everything at once: speaking, controlling their bodies, asserting their own interests with quick wit...

The birds singing at four in the morning with the window open. When they all gradually wake up and start singing. Blackbirds in particular enchant me with their song and make me feel humble about my own aesthetic abilities.

The reawakening of life in spring, when the butterfly bushes I transplanted myself, which I thought were dead, develop their first buds in the garden.

A safe landing in an airplane after a flight full of severe turbulence.

I could add a lot more to this list.

Humility: it is an intense feeling that often arises suddenly and unexpectedly. But it can also come from long-term, healing relationships.

My own encounters with death have made me particularly humble. In my role as a pastor, I have repeatedly accompanied people in funeral services. In some cases, I have conducted a "blessing." The blessing takes place—before the funeral—at the last place of residence of the deceased. The deceased is present in the room. He or she is addressed and blessed with a "travel blessing."² A promise is made as to where this journey will lead: "May our Lord Jesus Christ be before you, guiding you and leading you to your eternal home."

What made me feel most humble was how life leaves these people, whom I often know well, step by step. Hours after death, a person's face and entire body look completely different than immediately after death. Life leaves the mortal body step by step and embarks on a final journey. Never before have I felt so strongly that we will have to die. The immediate encounter with death makes me humble towards life.

²Agenda for Evangelical Lutheran Churches and Congregations, Volume III, Official Acts Part 5, Burial. Published by the Church Leadership of the United Evangelical Lutheran Church of Germany, Hanover 1996, 35, 222

Humility is an attitude

I see humility as an attitude. This attitude connects everything that an individual shows in their actions and behavior. Like a melody that always resonates and accompanies and envelops everything a person thinks, wants, and does.

I have repeatedly missed the attitude of humility in myself. Especially in educational relationships. For example, whenever I used the word "basta" with our then-adolescent daughter, which she hated because it ruled out any further discussion—whenever we couldn't agree on issues that were important in the life of a 13- to 16-year-old and often seemed reckless to me as a father.

Or as a university lecturer, when I had to review a stack of papers after a seminar and could have exploded (like the HB-Männchen in the cigarette ad from my youth) when I realized what had "stuck" from my efforts to convey important content – or what hadn't.

None of this is new. I knew that in theory. But that often doesn't help in current conflicts. Nevertheless, it makes sense to remember it:

The question of "attitude" has a long philosophical and religious tradition. The orientation toward courage and virtue (areté or virtus in ancient Greece and Rome), the Socratic demand to know oneself (gnothi s'auton), the demand to care for oneself (³ ): all of these are attitudes.

"Attitude" means that people are not only determined by their living conditions in their actions and behavior. Rather, individuals are always involved as persons. With what makes them unique individuals: self-reflection. Decisions about life paths. Attention to others, and so on.

In Plato's Alcibiades, Socrates shows that only those who take care of themselves first can take care of the polis. This imperative of Socrates has migrated through all kinds of teachings. It has taken the form of an attitude, it has permeated entire ways of life. However, Socrates was unable to impose his attitude on his student Alcibiades. Socrates himself can be seen as a classic historical and philosophical model of humility. His constant demand to know oneself and others. His restraint in matters of political power. His refusal to assert his own interests in life.

Yes: his attitude of humility goes so far that he agrees to his own execution and carries it out himself.

At the end of Plato's writing, the young Alcibiades accepts Socrates' clarification that he is not suited for political office – too self-absorbed, too power-hungry, too dissolute in his lifestyle. But this is precisely the path he will later take in his political career: an opportunist of power who changes sides several times in the Peloponnesian War for his own benefit. The student of the exemplary humble Socrates lives the exact opposite: ruthless self-assertion.

Nevertheless, yes, it is precisely in this that this teacher-student pair is, in my opinion, a striking reminder of humility: namely, the insight required in educational relationships into the impossibility of the omnipotence of education.