Man Can Become Better

Thirty years ago, I was 30 then, I thought I knew quite well what I believe. I lived in Vienna at this time. The city was recovering from the first World War. Material and spiritual reconstruction went hand in hand. I assisted and I enjoyed.

I was brought up by my father in the belief in the inevitable progress of mankind. Yes, in 1922, the future of humanity seemed bright to me. When clouds appeared, I told myself: fulfillment takes a long time. I shall not enter the promised land—people cherishing the same ideas as I: religion. Alas, many hopes have been shattered since. The birds of visionary dreams did not arrive. Precious goods were destroyed. But the hard times had a healthy result. I began to sift the chaff from the grain. I’m still at it, still an apprentice. My cocksureness decreased. The period of orientation had its pains and its elations.

Where do I stand today? I believe in kindness as a common denominator of all human beings. They may acquire only minute traces of this kindness, hidden deep under rocks of bitterness, disappointment, discouragement. But this kindness exists in everyone. I have lived in many countries. I have lived on two continents. I’m addicted to people. I indulge myself in seeing them, in speaking to them, in knowing them. Since I can remember, I’ve been eager to mix with people. My various professions have enabled me to contact them out of the most different aspects. In view of my experiences, I believe man is the same everywhere, and there are neither perfect nor hopeless cases.

I don’t believe we are living in the best of all possible worlds. Nevertheless, I’m compelled to believe in this world, because I live in it. I’m compelled to believe in others, because to believe in myself alone is not enough. I may hope to improve when I am able to see improvement in my fellow man. Feeling for one’s fellow man is a privilege, as well as a responsibility. In Germany at the very end of the first World War, Leonard Frank wrote a book, “Man Is Good.” I’ve gradually softened this statement to: man can become better. Again and again I’ve encountered their objection. Don’t you see? Does history not teach you that this earth is a wasteland and man develops only to devastate it more thoroughly? No.

A scientist at Cornell once said to me, “The more we know, the less we understand. How does research help mankind?” I answered, “In as much as research clarifies, it diminishes fear.”

Since the era of the caveman, man’s fear has diminished only in a tiny degree. But proportionately, man has become better. And I believe that humanity stands just at its threshold, and will wander the long, winding, arduous road toward light.

Edmond R. Schlesinger practiced law in Vienna and edited a newspaper in Paris before escaping to America one jump ahead of the Nazis. In the United States he served as a social worker, a researcher and statistician. He was a long-time professor of languages and humanities at the University of Louisville in Kentucky.