Analysis of the recurrences of the word “transhumanism” provides a mere summary meaning assigned to the movement: history is essentially the story of the improvement of humanity, however this is understood and whatever its procedures and aims may be. Analysing the reflections of philosophers, scientists and theorists who have set out explicitly or implicitly transhumanist theories or have even used the term transhumanism itself facilitates a more accurate indication of the procedures and aims of these improvements. For clarity’s sake, we can first divide the latter into three groups and then review the “real” transhumanists who have been joined by figures supporting their views without being explicitly transhumanistic and other researchers from a variety of disciplines who are harshly critical of them.
The first group (the precursors) dates back roughly to the late nineteenth century and is made up of philosophers and thinkers inspired by an idea of progress that was substantively shared, both in its theoretical characteristics and in its somewhat limited—given the level of knowledge at that time—but no less envisioned and desired, practical effects.
The second group (the forerunners) includes technologists, engineers and scientists from the early twentieth century, who were converging around the desire to create a “new man”. This “new man” ideology, mainly presented through scientific discourses of the time and partially deprived of its most evident political connotations, was also disseminated by all early twentieth-century totalitarian regimes. Emblematically, it was then that the possibility of some form of transhumanism was increasingly being taken into consideration, that is the possibility that humanity had the ability and the knowledge to transcend itself and to guide and modify the evolution of the species, which was notably lacking a positive thrust in the desired direction.
The third group (the proto-transhumanists) comprises scientists and philosophers from the late twentieth century who, now in possession of the knowledge and technology to modify the species, have been weighing up the moral legitimacy of their use and the limitations that may have to be placed on the genetic manipulation of individuals on the one hand, and the possibilities opening up for further technologies to manipulate the biological substratum of individuals on the other hand.
All these scientists, researchers, philosophers and technologists (whether precursors or forerunners of transhumanism or proto-transhumanists) share a number of views: they propose an evolutionary conception of human nature; they regard freedom of research and the critical use of reason as values to be promoted; they consider technology and science as tools at the service of the material enhancement of the human being essentially through biological modification; and they embrace a biologically connoted philosophy of history that is more or less consciously based on the history of evolution.
From this point on, however, matters become extremely complicated because the prominence that transhumanist propositions and their prospective implementation assume gives rise to a somewhat heated debate between transhumanists and their dyed-in-the-wool opponents, the so-called bioconservatives or bioluddites The debate also sees the involvement of a group of transhumanist supporters generally referred to as bioliberals—philosophers, bioethicists and scientists sympathetic to transhumanist ideas while not belonging to the movement itself—whereas bioconservatives are fundamentally hostile to the biological interventionism of transhumanists, whose theories they contest.
Apart from questions of historical philology, identifying the precursors of transhumanism encounters two serious difficulties, in addition to the extremely problematic use of this historical category. First, it was the transhumanists who identified their own precursors or regarded themselves as the heirs of several fairly different theoretical traditions, thus establishing a family tree whose members would most likely disagree with such an affiliation. James Hughes, one of the first secretaries of the World Transhumanist Association (WTA) and the theorist of a form of transhumanism that is less libertarian and more attentive to the problems of distributive justice, claims that transhumanism is the convergence of two tendencies characterising humanity across the millennia: on the one hand, its desire to transcend its own limits, something that religions have traditionally sought to achieve by spiritual and cultural means; on the other hand, the progress of science and technology which, while rather limited until the late twentieth century, has recently experienced such an increase that humanity has been able to concretely and materially transcend its limits (on Hughes see Agar, 2010, 150–177; Deprez, 2019). The turning point in this history came with the Italian Renaissance and the Enlightenment, above all with the renewal of scientific method theorised by Bacon, who became the true “guardian” of transhumanism. New science, liberation from religion and freedom of thought merged into the cultural movement that culminated in the French Revolution and assumed a markedly militant aspect thereafter. Hughes sees transhumanists as the heirs of a series of thinkers from Benjamin Franklin to Condorcet and Godwin, bearers of the values of Western rationalism who also seem to have fully espoused the aims of transhumanism because they assumed and imagined that progress could and should aim at significantly lengthening life (Hughes, 2004, 157), and obviously Darwin as well. The closer we get to the twenty-first century, the greater the capability of scientific discoveries and technological inventions to achieve what until then had been considered the figments of a fervid imagination, and the more numerous the precursors identified by transhumanism. Hughes certainly does not fail to include science-fiction writers, such as Isaac Asimov, Sebastian Lem, Alfred E. Van Vogt or Arthur C. Clarke, all of whom understood that new technologies had finally developed the capability to build robots, cyborgs and other forms of humanity, nor does he forget such eminent scientists as John B. S. Haldane, John D. Bernal, Herman Muller and Julian Huxley, who predicted the advent of a new, self-fashioned species enabled by advances in biomedicine and biology. Finally, from Robert Ettinger to Jonathan Glover, transhumanist ideas enter the scientific and theoretical debate, no longer as speculations on a world to come or as astonishing and still uncertain innovations, but as elements that structure people’s everyday lives.
This view is substantively accepted and taken up by Bostrom who adds some additional and creatively justified references. Among the humanists of the Italian Renaissance of whom Bostrom considers himself the heir, he explicitly mentions Giovanni Pico della Mirandola because he theorised the substantial indeterminacy of the nature of man. Unlike the opponents of transhumanism who justify their position on the grounds that transhumanist paradigms would illegitimately alter the essence of the human being, Pico della Mirandola saw the greatness of man in his not having a nature and in being able to assume any nature from a beast’s to an angel’s. In addition to the eighteenth-century philosophers mentioned by Hughes, Bostrom also includes Newton, Hobbes, Locke and Kant because they underpin humanist rationalism, advocating a critical use of reason and the progress of science, which are simultaneously factors of moral and material improvement (Bostrom, 2005a, 2–3).
Max More cites the same philosophers, scientists and engineers among the precursors and proto-transhumanists, but he more vehemently supports the view that transhumanism is nothing more than the fulfilment of the ideals of humanism and, above all, of the Enlightenment, explicitly counterposing it to the post-structuralist and postmodernist schools of thought that break down into forms of rational and moral relativism (More, 2013a, 10).
Transhumanist texts also reflect the ideas of Descartes and Locke. Descartes appears to have anticipated the possibility of mind uploading and his dualism assures the likelihood of this practice, while Locke underpins mental functionalism, which attributes little importance to the physical means for implementing mental data, the production of which does not require a specific biological medium. Opinions differ somewhat with regard to Nietzsche, who intuitively could or should be a theoretical reference for these philosophers. According to Bostrom, Nietzsche has nothing to do with his posthumanism (Bostrom, 2005a, 4), or in any case less than Mill (he believes that Nietzsche would certainly have been pleased, but he is not sure Mill would have agreed), while for another important figure in this movement, Max More, the German philosopher should certainly be among the inspirers of transhumanism.Footnote 2 The problematic aspect of this family tree produced by the transhumanists themselves is the presence of eminent representatives of humanism and the Enlightenment among the movement’s precursors. It is certainly not surprising that ever since the beginning of the twentieth century there has been, if not the knowledge, at least the justifiable suspicion that humanity has been consciously striving towards the transformation of individuals and the species as a whole. However, that Bacon, Condorcet or eighteenth-century scientists might be named among the precursors of transhumanism is quite a leap and presupposes a reduction of their thought to these elements taken individually and devoid of their context.
The second difficulty arising from this family tree is broader in scope and concerns the legitimacy of transhumanist theory and practice. Claiming to be the heirs of a tradition of thought that coincides with the producers of the very project of modernity has an extremely precise meaning, as it allows any doubts on transhumanism itself to be nipped in the bud. The claim that transhumanism is but the continuation of Renaissance humanism, as its theorists are the heirs of Bacon, Descartes and Condorcet, leaves critics facing two equally problematic alternatives: to refute the transhumanist project by inevitably rejecting the ideas of those who are said to be its inspirers, or to accept that transhumanism must be permissible in that it is the extreme and legitimate consequence of the project of modernity. The rather uncomfortable way out of this predicament lies in demonstrating that transhumanism is a perversion of modern ideals and practices, some features of which have been selected but whose essential parts have been abandoned. The examination and elaboration of this topic will be discussed at length in the next chapter, focusing on the relationship between humanism and transhumanism. For the time being, we will focus on other groups of thinkers, scientists and philosophers who have somehow cultivated the garden of transhumanism: the forerunners and the proto-transhumanists.
There seems to be no doubt that the forerunners of transhumanism in the English- and French-speaking world present theories and ideas that are well rooted in the spirit of the time and viewed favourably beyond a particular koinè (Coenen, 2014). The earliest examples of transhumanism appeared in a context where the totalitarian regimes emerging in the aftermath of the First World War underlined the need to “create” a new man. From Mussolini to Trotsky, the stress fell repeatedly on the need to renew humanity in accordance with their respective ideologies. Fascism’s new man would be fundamentally different from that of Soviet Communism: above all, an anti-bourgeois, nonconformist individual with moral, social, political and economic qualities completely opposed to the now hegemonic bourgeois figure of contemporary European societies, described by Werner Sombart, parodied by Robert Musil and criticised by Thomas Mann. The new man that Fascism intended to create had very different moral and political qualities from those of the European bourgeoisie, acquired not through biological manipulation but through a different “upbringing”.
While it cannot be denied that Fascism’s imperative to build a new man was also shared by Trotsky, considerable differences lie not only in the ends but also in Communism’s essentially biological means to achieve those ends (Hauskeller, 2016, 28). Trotsky’s theories are surprisingly compatible with transhumanism and support the idea that the renewal of man, however this is to be achieved, is a widely felt need that is much older than transhumanist views. Julian Huxley was certainly not indifferent to this general feeling, given his closeness to two other forerunners of transhumanism, Haldane and Bernal, both members of the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB) (Tirosh-Samuelson, 2011a, 63). While Huxley was one of the first to use the term transhumanism in a sense very close to that of contemporary transhumanists, it cannot be said that he was waiting for the name in order to grasp the concept. It is true that, as Hughes and Bostrom are at pains to point out, there are numerous myths about human beings eager to transcend the limitations of their immanence, but it is also true that questions on the future of humanity, the formative role of science and technology and the evaluation of the consequences of progress are particularly pressing at this time. Thus, Huxley seems to be not only the spokesman of an era but, in view of the meaning he confers on the term transhumanism, a true forerunner of the theories of contemporary transhumanists. Underpinning Huxley’s theories is a central theme of present-day transhumanism, namely that evolution is now in the hands of human beings, who are no longer mere objects but actors in their own right. Despite this and other very similar views, there are at least two elements that complicate this filiation with transhumanism.
First, Huxley sees it as a question of achieving the human being’s potential and fulfilling its nature, not of going beyond the limits imposed on it by biology, which seems to be the aim of transhumanism (Goffi, 2015). However, there is no unanimous, transhumanist view on the matter and, indeed, it is difficult to quantify the extent to which supporters of transhumanism concur on these theories: for some, it is a question of striving towards an indefinite perfection of human nature while remaining within its limits but, for others, the aim of transhumanism is the creation of a new species.
Second, the enhancements that Huxley sees as absolutely necessary are to be applied to the population as a whole, not on an individual basis, so as not to reinforce inequalities, but rather as an attempt to eliminate them. Underpinning his transhumanism, also known as “evolutionary humanism”, is a social holism, rather than the exasperated individualism that seems to connote transhumanism (Bashford, 2013). In order to emphasise the distance from the themes of contemporary transhumanism, or at least from those espoused by Max More and the Californian group but not from Hughes’s “democratic transhumanism”, we may notice that Huxley puts forward the creation of an appropriate social environment inspired by ideals of beauty, which is an end in itself (Huxley, 1957, 76). This does not detract from the fact that his “evolutionary humanism” envisions an enhancement that will lead to a “new kind of existence”.
In Daedalus or Science and the Future, Haldane presents the foreseeable effects of scientific progress (especially in biology, which he considers the fundamental science of the centuries to come) in a utopia scientifically based on a democratic use of eugenics (Haldane, 1923). According to Haldane, advances in biology will have a positive effect on medicine, which will not only provide the means for an increasingly better life but will also lead to the creation of a race of superhumans through the application of eugenic principles. The envisaged progress is practically identical to that of any other utopia or attempt at historical prediction: the development of human faculties, the abolition of disease and the sweetening of death so that it resembles sleep rather than a traumatic event (Tirosh-Samuelson, 2011a, 69), but also the elimination of world hunger and the development of new forms of artificial procreation.
Bernal’s theories also go in this direction. In The World, The Flesh and the Devil: An Enquiry into the Future of the Three Enemies of the Rational Soul, he outlines a scientific utopia based on the latest discoveries and inventions and speculates on the nature of the humanity of the future, accurately anticipating some of transhumanism’s central issues, such as mind uploading (Bernal, 1969 [1929], 41). He claims it will be possible to insert the brain into a cylinder and connect it to a new body with new senses, thus creating a new person. Human beings will acquire new faculties as a result of the new operating procedures of a body equipped with “television apparatus, tele-acoustic and tele-chemical organs and tele-sensory organs of the nature of touch for determining all forms of texture bodies” (ibid.). This new man is merely the foreseeable consequence of evolution (Tirosh-Samuelson, 2011a, 74–75).
While Haldane and Bernal lie between the envisioned enhancement of humanity and a techno-scientific utopia, in the mid-twentieth century biological manipulation became a reality, certainly in need of perfection but nevertheless utterly feasible. The transhumanists themselves drew up a list of those that they considered proto-transhumanists: the theorists of artificial intelligence such as John von Neumann, Marvin Minsky, Hans Moravec and Vernor Vinge; Eric Drexler, author of the first text on nanotechnologies, anticipating the possibilities of intervening in the molecular substratum of living beings (Drexler, 1986); Robert Ettinger, who published Prospect of Immortality in 1962 which sets out the idea of cryonic suspension; and Jonathan Glover, one of the first to investigate the social, economic and political consequences of the new power enabling the genetic selection of individuals in What Sort of People Should There Be? in 1984. Unlike their predecessors, the latter three authors not only have a solid scientific basis for identifying lines of development in biology that leave little room for flights of fancy, but they also question the moral legitimacy of their use. The utopian element is still present but limited to an investigation of the changes that these new technologies (molecular nanotechnology, cryonics and genetic engineering) will produce, starting from an assessment of their already ascertained potential.
The first transhumanist proper is undeniably Fereidoun M. Esfandiary, better known as “FM-2030”, although it would be more appropriate to consider him a proto-transhumanist. When called upon to define the characteristics of future human existence, Huxley limits himself to saying that it will be “as different from ours as ours is from that of Pekin man” (Huxley, 1957), whereas Esfandiary proposes a more precise vision of the “transitional man” (Esfandiary, 1989) which includes colourful though actually accomplished features, such as the intensive use of telecommunications, a globetrotting lifestyle, a cosmopolitan outlook and totally liberated sexual behaviour.Footnote 3 More concretely, the transitional man would acquire greater control over himself through emancipation from the body, the source of all human weaknesses. This greater autonomy would serve a predominantly recreational purpose, contrary to what Huxley advocates: it should broaden the horizons of human pleasure and constantly provide new and diverse experiences (Goffi, 2015) and project man into a context where technology rules and can be exploited to the best possible advantage. Esfandiary’s best-known book is Are You a Transhuman? (1989), but his ideas are more fully developed in the trilogy Optimism One, Up-Wingers: A Futurist Manifesto and Telespheres (1977a[1970], 1978[1970], 1977b), in which he sets out a philosophy of optimism based on two evolutionary advances: on the one hand, as we overcome the limitations of our mortal bodies we can extend our life indefinitely, and, on the other hand, we are on the verge of accessing the infinite resources and possibilities hidden in the universe (1977b, 170). The means to bring about this progress is obviously technology, which will ensure freedom from the biological limitations that prevent all human beings from achieving their full potential. Since “the body has been our greatest inhibition, our most serious obstacle to an evolution that must lead us higher” (Esfandiary, 1977a, 166), the task before us is precisely the need to remake the human body and transform it into something beautiful, varied, fluid and durable (ibid., 167–168).
However, as stated above, the transhumanist galaxy is extremely varied, and it would serve no purpose to list the names of all adherents to transhumanist ideals. In addition to the authors already mentioned, the contributors to the three anthologies The Transhumanist Reader (More & Vita-More, 2013), H+: Transhumanism and its Critics (Hansell & Grassie, 2011) and the more recent Transhumanism Handbook (2019a) edited by N. Lee, can also be considered transhumanists in their own right.
At this point we are faced with a fairly serious problem regarding our definition of the transhumanist movement. How can we identify authors who may not accept being regarded as transhumanists but can be said to be supporters in that they embrace views compatible with those of transhumanism (but not necessarily analogous to them), even though they are not affiliated to any transhumanist organisation? Indeed, apart from the figures already mentioned, who have actively participated in the formation and the consolidation of the transhumanist movement, there are other researchers, the bioliberals mentioned above, from a wide range of disciplines, who subscribe to views and theories that are absolutely consistent with those of transhumanism (although not identical to them) but politely reject this label, which they are beginning to find rather awkward, such as Aubrey de Grey, a transhumanist of the first hour. Among the bioliberals, mention should be made of the more famous technophiles Allen Buchanan, Dan Brock, Norman Daniels, Daniel Wikler, Nicholas Agar, John Harris, Arthur Caplan and Gregory Stock, who enthusiastically supplied moral legitimation to the biotechnologies of enhancement. Even closer to the transhumanist position is Julian Savulescu, director of The Oxford Uehiro Center for Practical Ethics and author of numerous articles, some in collaboration with Ingmar Persson and others with Nick Bostrom or Anders Sandberg, in which transhumanist views are defended to the hilt.
However, it is no simple task to explain how Bostrom’s militant technophilia (although he did take a more circumspect position on artificial intelligence, one of transhumanism’s favourite themes) differs from the path followed by a liberal like Nicholas Agar, who set out to defend enhancement and even wrote a lengthy apology of liberal eugenics but now rejects radical enhancement in favour of a truly more moderate one (Agar, 2014). Indeed, the differences between them do not seem as marked as they might first appear. It has been said, for example, that while true transhumanists adopt enthusiastic technophile positions aiming to legitimise the creation of a new species, that is that biotechnologies must literally create new capabilities and thus ultimately a human being 2.0, bioliberals are more cautious and believe that the use of biotechnologies must push human faculties to the limit of their potential but not beyond, because of the currently unforeseeable risks that their indiscriminate use might pose to the continuation of life on Earth. In actual fact, the issues are more nuanced: More has explicitly stated that transhumanists have not set themselves the goal of creating a new species; and Harris, a fervent bioliberal, does not seem to pose the problem of the limits of human enhancement. The extent to which transhumanists’ prudence and bioliberals’ enthusiasm might be a tactical ploy remains to be seen. However, it is worth mentioning Buchanan’s proposal that the so-called bioliberals, while taking care not to claim explicit affiliation to the various transhumanist organisations but nevertheless adopt their views and develop their theories in the same direction as them, should be considered as being “anti-anti-enhancement” and not as active supporters of the benefits of enhancement.
On the other hand, it seems easier to identify the opponents of transhumanism, whether they be bioconservatives or bioluddites. The most frequently recurring names are Leon Kass, Francis Fukuyama, Michael Sandel and Jurgen Habermas. James Hughes divides the bioconservatives into two groups, the right-wing and left-wing bioluddites, which differ essentially in the type of criticism they make of the free, unchecked, indiscriminate and unregulated use of biotechnologies for enhancement. Right-wing bioconservatives such as Kass and Fukuyama adopt arguments based on religious positions, and more generally on a sacralisation of nature, which should be altered as little as possible. Left-wing bioconservatives such as Michael Sandel, Jurgen Habermas or Langdon Winner, on the other hand, are more attentive to the undesirable risks and changes for humanity incurred through an indiscriminate use of biotechnology for the purposes of enhancement. They feel that enhancement practices need to be monitored, not to limit their use but to garner an understanding of their general effects, thereby avoiding the adoption and use of technologies that we do not fully control. In short, right-wing bioluddites are in favour of limiting and banning certain specific practices in principle, while left-wing bioconservatives advocate gaining a better understanding of the effects and consequences of enhancement.