Tag Archives: human ideal

Human Evolution

In a post from long ago entitled Humanism in a New Key, I offered an interpretation of post-theism where the re-absorption of higher virtues formerly projected in the deities of religion opens up a new era in our evolving spirituality as a species. If the idea of an external god is understood in terms of an intentional object (i.e., as a construct of our mythopoetic imagination) rather than a metaphysical one (i.e., as a being existing outside and separate from us), this critical step can be welcomed and celebrated.

I don’t presume that all theists will embrace the notion, but for many (including myself as a former theist) it can mark the breakthrough to a liberated life.

I find it helpful to view this process in the time-frame of human evolution as it has unfolded over many millenniums. Our species itself emerged in Africa perhaps 200,000 years ago, a late product of the natural evolution of life on Earth. Upon arriving, we proceeded to evolve still further under the shaping influence of culture – a construct system of language, symbols, stories, and technologies that continues to lift us by our own bootstraps.

If the evolution of nature brought about our uniquely complex nervous system and social intelligence, this gear-shift of cultural evolution will lead either to our fulfillment as a species or to our self-destruction. Because human culture is a work in progress, which direction we go remains an open question.

When our theory lacks imagination and insight, the purpose of culture gets reduced to little more than managing nature – our own as well as the natural order around us. In this view, with all its clever innovations and sophisticated methods, culture is just a fancy, interesting, but problematic way of keeping us alive and making copies of our genes – like ‘putting lipstick on a pig’, as we say. Cultures rise and fall, come and go, but we can only fall and go once from the scene of nature to be gone for good. Religion and science fiction can muse over angels and androids and faraway realms, but our real business is survival on this third rock from the sun.

On the other hand, it could be that our fulfillment as a species depends on something original to culture, something not merely derived from or sublimated out of our nature as highly evolved animals. I call this original element community – or more specifically, genuine community – and I’ve tried to show in numerous posts how religion plays a key role in its formation. Genuine community is not merely a society of individuals who get along; something much more transformative is going on.

The larger trajectory towards fulfillment is still unfolding after these many thousands of years, and we today stand on a critical threshold where our next step will bring about a breakthrough or (almost just as likely) a breakdown.

There is a debate over whether human evolution will reach its fulfillment with genuine community (as I argue) or instead with the rise of extraordinary individuals who possess super-human powers and abilities. The ‘exceptionalists’ focus their hopes on such paranormal abilities as levitation, mind-reading, bending spoons, or turning water into wine. They talk of higher consciousness, perfected nature, and immortality, but their specimens are typically from another time and quarter, or else ‘presently unavailable’ for closer examination.

When serving as a Christian pastor, I was frequently taken by how believers’ regard for Jesus as just such an exception kept him safely at a distance and released them of any obligation to be like him. Maybe the possibility was there, but only for the spiritually gifted, not the rest of us.

By shifting our focus to the evolution of community, we don’t have the option of worshiping perfection from a distance. As I see it, our advancement as individuals and the formation of genuine community are deeply correlated. Community provides the supportive environment where identity is constructed and personal commitment to the health of the whole is empowered in the individual. The individual then adds his or her creative influence to the community, which continues to foster a still higher realization of wellbeing. Thus a provident community and personal commitment progressively co-elevate the project of human evolution.

My diagram gives an illustration of this laddering dynamic. Again, a provident community instills in the newborn and young child a deep sense that she belongs. As she matures, the youngster is encouraged to participate in the community as a contributing member. And eventually, if all goes well, the young adult will take a responsible role in creating the new reality of an even stronger, more provident community for all.

This would amount to little more than a redundant cycling of new generations taking their place in society, except for the fact that it has been evolving. And the direction of this evolution – despite occasional setbacks and derailments along the way – has been steadily toward what I call the human ideal, by which I mean the fully self-actualized human being.

Like all living things, we humans have a potential locked up in our genes, but also encoded in the memes (symbols, stories, and folk wisdom) of culture, that gradually opens and develops in the direction of our maturity and fulfillment.

Beyond our physical, emotional, and intellectual maturity as individuals, there are still higher aims that have to do with our life together in community. In a recent post I identified five ethical virtues in particular that are recognized across all cultures as representing this human ideal.

My diagram displays these five virtues at the apex of an ascending arrow, which makes the point that this ideal is always ‘above and ahead’ of us, igniting our aspirations as well as measuring our progress or lack of it.

Theistic religion early on took up the task of focusing human contemplation on the higher virtues of humility, compassion, kindness, generosity, and forgiveness, which it personified in metaphorical figures of deities – humanlike but more perfect, bending their providential powers in the interest of a cohesive community. In myths that were regularly recited and performed in ritual settings of worship, the gods ‘characterized’ how devotees were expected to behave. (As projections, they could also deify our cruder and more violent tendencies as well.)

First by obedience, and gradually more and more by way of aspiration and endeavoring to be ‘like god’, the community of believers began to demonstrate the virtues in their interactions and way of life. This inward activation of what had been externally represented marks the evolutionary threshold where theism transforms into post-theism, where god relocates, as it were, from heaven into the heart, becoming the sacred center of an awakened and liberated life.


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What’s Your QIP?

Quad Intel GridOne of my innovations in the field of human psychology is the notion of Quadratic Intelligence. Expanding on recent theory and research has helped us beyond the early 20th-century notion of intelligence as only our (IQ) competency in reading, writing, and arithmetic – the so-called academic set. Opening the definition of intelligence so as to include emotional (Goleman, 1995), spiritual (Zohar & Marshall, 2000), and less conscious body processes has liberated discourse on the subject from a crippling Western bias where intelligence equals computation, logical operations, and problem-solving acumen. My insight has to do with seeing these four types of intelligence – Rational, Emotional, Spiritual, and Visceral – evolving together as a system, unfolding in sequence (V-E-R-S) and interacting dynamically throughout human development.

Before we move into the diagram and take a look around, one other general comment is in order. Not only has the West tended to favor rational processes over others, but it also has a long tradition of ‘impersonating the soul’, by which I mean that the center of spiritual intelligence, or soul, has been taken as another name for the separate center of personal identity, commonly called ego (Latin for the first-person singular “I”). This is likely a complication of our deep history in theism, where the formation of personal identity as represented in the deity and managed in the devotee is a prevailing focus of concern.

An unfortunate consequence of this confusion is a tendency to associate spiritual intelligence (SQ) with ‘psychic’ abilities, out-of-body experiences, metaphysical visions, and special access to the supernatural. It has also perpetuated an unhealthy dualism that conceives the human being as a body with a soul or a soul inside a body – in either case a deeply divided being.

A sick religion that capitalizes on this dualism is obsessed with getting the captive soul safely to its heavenly home, free and far away from the mortal body. Just about everything connected to our physical life as animals – our drives, appetites, proclivities, and secretions – has been put under one taboo or another, as despicable vices that threaten to drag us into hell.

So when I speak of spiritual intelligence I am referring to that strand of quadratic intelligence that gives human beings our distinctive creative ability – to imagine, compose, invent, and in various ways transcend the boundaries of our present situation. Soul, then, is not an immortal entity riding temporarily inside a mortal frame, but the very center of this creative intelligence. By extension, spirituality is not only about breaking out and escaping our limitations, but transforming them by virtue of a new perspective, attitude, and mode of life.

What I call ‘creative authority’ is this very mode of life whereby individuals take responsibility as creators of the identities, worlds, and relationships that either facilitate or frustrate the realization of their own higher selves and those around them.

Just as our thinking mind is no more important to what we are than our feeling heart, neither is our spiritual soul any more special and sacred than our animal body. While our consciousness may be characterized by an inherent duality – introverted to the intuitive-mystical realm within and extroverted to the sensory-physical realm without – we are fundamentally indivisible in our essential nature as spiritual animals.

After insisting on the integral unity of our quadratic intelligence I can move on to make the point that each of us develops and demonstrates the four types in individual ways that are unique to our genetic temperament, early upbringing, surrounding culture, pressing concerns, and evolving character. This is where my diagram comes in.

Let’s start with a question. From the following four options, which term best describes your preference for orienting and navigating your way through life: strategy, inspiration, sympathy, or common sense? Here are the definitions.


You prefer to make plans, set goals, and work through a sequence of tasks that lead where you want to go. This preference suggests that you tend to favor reasonable and creative approaches to the challenges and opportunities of life. If you self-identify as preferring strategy, then you might further refine this preference as leaning more to the rational (RQ) or spiritual (SQ) side. In other words, strategy could be more about detaching from your subjective feelings and staying on course with a prescribed plan, or the value might lie more in how it enables you to transcend the way things are and bring about a ‘new reality’. The unifying idea is the way strategy clarifies and prescribes an overarching purpose in what you do.


You seek out experiences that ‘breathe in’ (inspire) greater joy, beauty, and wonder that will enrich your life. This preference suggests that you tend to favor creative and passionate endeavors which connect you to something much bigger than yourself. Depending on how you lean into inspiration it might be more about this feeling of engagement (EQ), or perhaps you would describe it in terms of an inner release and going beyond (transcending) the bounds of ordinary awareness (SQ). It isn’t necessary to postulate a supernatural or metaphysical source behind the experience of inspiration. It simply represents the cooperation of your emotional and spiritual intelligence in taking in ‘something more’ – the whole that is more than the sum of its parts (think of the artistic image that ‘comes through’ the patterns of color in a painting, or the gestalt that rises through the harmonies of individual instruments of an orchestra).


I’m using this word in its classical sense, as a resonant response between and among things of similar nature. It certainly takes on an emotional character in the realm of human relationships, in the way individuals are ‘moved’ by the mysterious forces of attraction, empathy, and aggression to match each other’s mood. If sympathy is what orients and motivates you through life, then you tend to go with ‘how things feel’ or ‘what feels right’ in the moment. Leaning more on the side of EQ, this is typically experienced as a refined feeling that may prompt secondary reflection, whereas a stronger anchor in the unconscious reactions of the body (VQ) will evoke a more spontaneous behavioral response. Sympathy is the emotional and visceral basis of our more ‘elevated’ intuitions of compassion and empathy. As distinct from them, sympathy is something we feel in our heart and sense in our gut, often as an ineffable reaction occurring prior to any conscious reflection or ethical resolve.

Common Sense

Our ‘common senses’ refer to the five sensory-physical modes of perception – sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. If this is your preference for orienting yourself in reality, then these sense-data serve as the foundation of reliable knowledge. Just as your visceral intelligence (VQ) anchors consciousness in the organic urgencies of life (e.g., the compulsive urge to breathe), your physical organs of perception tether attention to what we might call the realm of the obvious. The modern school of philosophy known as ‘common sense realism’ (Thomas Reid) shows how this preference can lean strongly to the rational (RQ) side, where even the detachment of our logical mind only infers and constructs from the information apprehended first through the senses. If you are a common sense realist, then you likely insist that truth must derive from, and ultimately come back to, the reality of perceivable facts.

My Quadratic Intelligence model allows us to appreciate the multifaceted nature of human intelligence, and helps as well in the need to expand our definition of it beyond one type of intelligence or another. The concept of preference (strategy, inspiration, sympathy, or common sense) can also rein in a tendency to arrange these types of intelligence in a (personally biased) hierarchy of importance. For example, although spiritual intelligence comes online later (i.e., farther into maturity) than visceral intelligence (which is active in the very beginning of fetal life), this doesn’t make it ‘better’ or more essential to what we are as human beings.

Indeed there are plenty of examples where our spiritual ability to go beyond (transcend) what is given has inspired individuals to abandon their connection to everyday reality for apocalyptic and otherworldly speculations, which are then professed as divine revelations by these ‘visionaries’ who use them to draw notoriety, influence, and profit.

You might struggle at first in closing down on just one preference over others. As well you should, since all of these are at least potentially active in your quest to make sense of reality, connect meaningfully to those around you, and become fully human. Consider arranging all four preferences in an order that reflects your personal Quadratic Intelligence Profile (QIP). Such an exercise might suggest areas that could use more attention and training, to develop yourself in a more well-rounded fashion – although a ‘perfect balance’ among the four preferences should probably not be a goal.


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Creative Choice

The creative life is not simply a life without limits, but is more about freely choosing the limits that define your desire. Without definition, the creative desire that Nietzsche called the human spirit splashes out and seeps away, falling short of realization. The other side of it for Nietzsche was the degree in which our limits can strangle the spirit and pull us down into mediocrity.

When I sit with a client, one of the things I’m interested in is his or her behavior. What are you doing? How are you conducting your life? Quite frequently we will discover that the individual isn’t really “conducting” it at all. Instead, the client feels pinned down under the weight of social duty and moral expectations. “I’ve been doing what I’m told, and now I feel like a fake. I’m not living my own life.”

Sometimes it becomes obvious that the individual’s behavior is on automatic pilot. Perhaps it’s not so much the obligations attaching to his or her social roles as it is the dead inertia of habit, trudging on without passion or engagement. This is really Nietzsche’s point, even though he’s most misunderstood here. The individual, moved for so long out of obedience, never truly awakens to his or her own freedom to choose life. It’s not that “morality” is bad, but that it can put us to sleep inside its neat little boxes.


Desire originates as an impulse, rooted in the urgencies of our biological life. The natural aim of desire is to find satisfaction by gratifying this impulse. At this level consciousness is fully contained in our animal nature. A newborn baby exemplifies the impulsive life, in the way its behavior spontaneously seeks out the satisfaction of basic needs.

But a human being is also “hard wired” for relationships, not only by virtue of our early dependency on providers but also because these social bonds are necessary to the formation of identity. In the construction of ego, the tribe shapes an animal nature into an obedient and cooperative member of society – or at least that’s the intended outcome. The tribe accomplishes this through the imposition of various constraints; think of them as the “hold” and “push” that gradually train an animal nature into something more domesticated and well-behaved.


Don’t do that. Do this instead. That’s what I mean by a “push” constraint. A “hold” constraint is when the instruction is more simply about not doing something, at least not here, not now. There’s a time and place for that, and this isn’t it. Hold that impulse and keep it to yourself. “Hold” constraints often carry the tribe’s shadow, in the fear, condemnation, and consequent shame that get attached to certain animal impulses.

For a while this force of social constraint needs to prevail over the individual’s impulse for immediate gratification. Tribal order and the common good require that some impulses get trained into compliance, some get sublimated in more refined outlets, and some others are kept in the closet. Nietzsche had some trouble with that, as you might expect, but his real complaint was with what typically happens next.

Over time, the control system of social constraints gets internalized, in what Freud would later name the “superego.” Not to be confused with conscience, which refers to an inner sense of how we can best get along together in community, the superego is the pressure of the group on the individual to conform. The real danger is that this “inner parent” will supervene on the individual’s evolutionary need to take control and live his or her own life.


Habit is a marvelous adaptation in the way it submerges routine behaviors into “thoughtless” performance, in order to liberate conscious attention for higher pursuits. But habit is also the rut where we can curl up and fall asleep to the challenge and mystery of being alive. As social duty is pressed upon the individual and gradually insinuated as the superego, this rut of moral obligation can become the permanent “depression” of the spirit.

This is what Nietzsche (and many others) saw all around him, but it’s not merely a nineteenth-century problem. In his opinion it is the dilemma that represents a critical break-point in human evolution. We will either wake up and start living the life we really want, or we will die in the rut of our daily grind. For Nietzsche it was fulfillment or obedience. After doing what we’re told for long enough, it comes time to choose.

But you need to be awake to choose.


The control system of tribal morality is necessary to the construction of personal identity (ego). Our animal nature with its powerful and insistent impulses needs to be domesticated and trained into a cooperative member of society. The way it should work is that these external constraints (“hold” and “push”) gradually assist the individual in developing internal restraint, where he or she is able to “pull” back on impulse and give opportunity for the consideration of options.

What I’m calling internal restraint is not repression, which is about “push” again, this time back and down into a shadow of shame. Restraint is that critical piece of self-control where the individual is able to do something with the impulse, rather than be done by it. Paradoxically restraint is the birthplace of freedom – the evolutionary threshold that Nietzsche announced and prophesied about.


Self-restraint thus opens the field of awareness to at least two options: act now or wait til later. But almost always there is a variety of other options that present themselves as well. Maybe you don’t act on your impulse at all. Maybe instead of swinging back you choose to let go. Maybe you find a more compassionate or courageous way to move your life forward.

The point here is that restraint makes consideration possible. Once you have options, you need to weigh them against each other to figure out which one has the best feel and fit. If you are truly free to live the life you want, then your choice cannot be coerced – not by god, government, church or superego. A forced choice is not a choice.


Finally, this foreground of consideration begins to clarify some future goals – outcomes and consequences that are likely to follow upon one option or another. At this point the individual is stretched in his or her thinking to imagine a preferred future. As the picture becomes more vivid and compelling, some ideals grow in strength as priorities and illumine the path ahead.

Nietzsche’s ideal was of the fully awakened and self-responsible creator. There’s no room here to expand on it further – I have in fact explored the idea in previous posts; see – but this is what I see in the mythological god. This principal figure of religious myth can be observed evolving over many centuries and across cultures, into a “fully awakened and self-responsible creator.” In other words, the mythological god is the literary representation of our human ideal, the Great Attractor of our higher potential as a species.

Unfortunately – and as Nietzsche saw it, tragically – whereas religion might have been the midwife of this spiritual birth, it too often goes the other way. The tribal control system refuses to let the child grow up and take the lead in his or her own life. The god of dogmatic orthodoxy regresses back into an authoritarian, jealous and vindictive anti-ideal. True believers strive almost neurotically to please, placate, flatter and impress their god. Just don’t piss him off, or it will surely be curtains for you.



More than ever – and this has always been true – our future as a species hangs in the balance. And as in all other times, now is the time to choose.

It’s time to step creatively into the life we really want.


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