The general consensus on humanity – that is, humanity’s attitude toward itself – is mixed.
In some ways, we hold ourselves in exceptionally high esteem. We see something inherently miraculous in every human being – more sophisticated than an animal, more real than a machine. Even our most secular cultures assign great sanctity to our being.
In other ways, we’re very hard on ourselves. We impose moral expectations on every person, many of them contrary to our instincts. If we desire something, we must earn it. If we fail to meet expectations, we’re deemed bad people, unworthy of sympathy. Human life comes with a morality clause. We get what we deserve.
My attitude toward humanity is also mixed, but in reverse.
I don’t think we’re special. We’re a lifeform, one among millions of species molded by natural selection. I don’t see how our serendipitous, carbon-based forms and brains constitute anything sacred. (That’s why I fear the growing superiority of AI; the argument that robots “may be smart, but they aren’t real“, is meaningless to me.)
But I’m also very lenient towards us. I see every human, before anything else, as a receiver of experiences. I wish positive experiences on everyone, “earned” or not. Every negative experience invites my sympathy, “deserved” or not. Rules are necessary within society, but life itself is free. All desires are valid. The fact that some people’s desires are incompatible with society – leaving them frustrated, ostracized, or incarcerated – while inevitable, is tragic.
I’m only a contrarian in terms of what I believe humanity is. In terms of our future, of what we should do, I agree with everyone else. Save the biosphere. Fight injustice and imperialism. Refine and democratize society’s norms and laws. Utopia might be possible. In fact, it might become more possible if humanity reverses its self-image, as I’ve outlined. If we let go of our sanctity, and start respecting our emotions.