He helps us to retain our humanity in an increasingly dehumanised world, says Oliver Keenan

St Thomas Aquinas was a reluctant revolutionary. His work unleashed an epoch-shaping explosion of theological creativity and philosophical controversy in the thirteenth century, the shockwaves of which continue to reverberate in the contemporary university. This fact alone is enough to establish that Aquinas should be read, but it does not say anything about why Aquinas matters now. In fact, Aquinas deserves much more than just a reading. His work addresses and interrogates the present moment with relevance and urgency. But why should we listen?

Someone deserves to be read because they have something interesting to say. What they have to say might very well be interestingly wrong, out-of-date or of distant historical significance. Someone matters when they have something interesting and relevant to show, when what they have to offer exceeds the sum total of what they can say. They might gesture towards a new way of living, a new horizon for human inquiry or a fresh perspective on what it means to be human, but they show us more than they can tell; their thought expands the world of our thought.

Someone matters now when what they show us resonates with the historical moment to the extent that we cannot afford to overlook their contribution. Significance of this kind captures something urgent that is of pressing concern, perhaps something that we might otherwise be struggling to even articulate or see clearly. Aquinas matters now, not because he was right about everything he said (or even about most things on which he had his say) but because he can teach us a way of looking at the world that we ignore at our peril.

Arguing that Aquinas matters to today’s reader implies some sense of where we are and how we got here. This is potentially perilous, especially in a short book: it sometimes feels as if there are as many analyses of the contemporary historical moment as there are philosophers. It would be arrogant to paint with too broad a brush, but pointless to make vague lamentation of things not quite being what they used to be. Every era has thought itself to be modern and been forced to grapple with continuity, decay and disruption. There are times when the pace of change is more rapid than others, but no crisis is as unprecedented as it feels.

Nonetheless, Aquinas speaks directly to a widespread feeling of alienation that haunts our world. To be alienated is to be disconnected from the rhythms of the natural world, to feel rootless in society, homeless and lonely, and disenfranchised from politics. To live in alienating times is to be more aware of the fragmentation of humanity than we are of our commonality, to witness the political consequences of fear and anxiety, to sense that despite the enormous technological advances and expansion of knowledge, something – perhaps the most important thing – is missing. Alienated bodies are restless, stressed and burned out. Alienated minds are easily prey to a cheap and easy cynicism.

Things may not always feel quite so bleak, but if even an iota of this portrait corresponds recognizably to the world of today, then Aquinas matters now. At a time when war, injustice, poverty and conflict threaten to alienate us from one another, Thomas offers a robust account of community, of justice, friendship and peace. As we face the threat of alienation from our natural habitat by the climate emergency, Aquinas offers a vision of humanity flourishing in responsible co-existence with the non-human world. As widespread technologisation and consumerism threaten to alienate us from ourselves – even from our own bodies – Thomas shows us how to live in friendship with our bodiliness, to value and enjoy sensuality and passion. As we continue to reckon with the devastating psychological and social impact of Coronatide, Thomas is a reliable guide to the interior caverns of our hearts and minds. Thomas’s vision is urgently needed because it is profoundly non-violent, refusing nothing that is authentically true and beautiful. In a world that is so often dehumanising and inhumane, his political vision begins with each one of us becoming human, and so living humane and humanising lives.

This is an extract from Why Aquinas Matters Now (Bloomsbury, £16.99) by Oliver Keenan. Buy a copy here.

Or buy a copy from Blackwell’s here.

Oliver Keenan is our guest on “A Drink with the Idler” this Thursday 23 January at 6pm. Free to subscribers – otherwise £7.50.

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