Friday, April 17, 2026

Dignity – The Quiet Foundation of Our Humanity

 

Dignity – The Quiet Foundation of Our Humanity

There are moments in life and work that stay with us.

Not because they were dramatic,
but because something essential was at stake —
in the way one human being met another.

In my years in child welfare, I have carried many such moments with me.
Encounters where something in a person either opened… or closed.

And over time, one question has followed me:

What does it mean to meet another human being with dignity?


What does it mean to meet another human being with dignity?


This question is not abstract.

It lives in everyday encounters — in families, in professional practice, in conflicts, and in the fragile moments where people feel seen… or unseen.

In this reflection, I find inspiration in the work of Donna Hicks, whose “dignity model” emerges from decades of experience in international conflict mediation. Her work reminds us of something both obvious and easily forgotten:

Every human being has dignity — not as something earned, but as something inherent.

And yet, we constantly violate it.


The Difficult Distinction

One of the most challenging insights is this:

We must distinguish between the person and their actions.

A person always deserves dignity.
An action does not necessarily deserve approval.

This sounds simple — but in practice, it is profoundly difficult.

When someone harms another, our immediate reaction is often to withdraw respect. But if we do that, we risk entering a spiral where indignity produces more indignity.

I have seen this in families.
In child welfare.
In professional settings.
And in society at large.

The pattern repeats itself:
When dignity is denied, something in the human being closes.


When Dignity Is Violated

In social work, we meet people whose dignity has been deeply wounded.

Sometimes through neglect.
Sometimes through violence.
Sometimes through subtle, repeated experiences of not being seen.

In such encounters, something important becomes clear:

Healing begins when a person is recognized again as a subject — not an object.

This is where Martin Buber becomes deeply relevant.

Buber describes two fundamental ways of relating:

  • I–It: where the other becomes an object
  • I–Thou: where the other is encountered as a living human being

A violation of dignity turns a person into an It.
Healing requires a movement back toward Thou.

But how do we make that movement?

Here, Hans-Georg Gadamer offers a quiet but important insight:
Understanding is not something we apply to another person — it is something that happens between us.

To understand is to risk oneself.
To remain open.
To allow the other person’s experience to challenge one’s own assumptions.

And perhaps this is where dignity begins to be restored:
not in explanation, but in genuine openness.


The Individual and the Demand

Yet there is another dimension — more inward, more demanding.

Søren Kierkegaard reminds us that each human being stands as a single individual, called to take responsibility for how we live and how we meet others.

Dignity is not only something we give.
It is also something we must choose to uphold, even when it is difficult.

Especially when it is difficult.

To meet another person with dignity when they have hurt us
is not a natural reaction.

It is an ethical decision.

A decision that reveals something about who we are becoming.


The Elements of Dignity

Donna Hicks outlines ten elements of dignity. Rather than treating them as a checklist, I read them as reminders of how we ought to be present with others:

  • To accept another’s identity without reducing them
  • To include rather than exclude
  • To create safety — both physical and psychological
  • To truly listen and acknowledge
  • To recognize the value in others
  • To act with fairness
  • To trust rather than suspect
  • To seek understanding
  • To empower
  • And to take responsibility when we fail

These are not abstract principles.
They are small, concrete acts — repeated over time.


Ubuntu – We Become Human Together

There is an old idea, expressed in the African concept of Ubuntu:

“A person is a person through other persons.”

Dignity is not something we carry alone.
It is something that is given, received, and sustained in relationship.

Here, Ubuntu, Buber, and Gadamer meet:

  • In Buber’s I–Thou
  • In Gadamer’s understanding as dialogue
  • In the lived experience that we become human with and through one another


A Personal Reflection

Looking back on my own years in child welfare, I have seen how easily dignity can be overlooked — especially when behavior is difficult, chaotic, or even harmful.

But I have also seen something else:

When a person is met with dignity, even in the midst of conflict or failure, something shifts.

Not always immediately.
Not always visibly.

But something opens.

Perhaps this is where practical philosophy begins —
not in abstract theory,
but in the way we meet another human being.


Closing

To treat another person with dignity is not a technique.
It is a choice.

A quiet, demanding, and deeply human choice.

And perhaps, in the tension between
openness (Gadamer),
relation (Buber),
and responsibility (Kierkegaard),

we begin to understand what dignity truly asks of us.


References

Martin Buber
Buber, M. (1970). I and Thou (W. Kaufmann, Trans.). Charles Scribner’s Sons. (Original work published 1923)

Hans-Georg Gadamer
Gadamer, H.-G. (2004). Truth and method (2nd rev. ed., J. Weinsheimer & D. G. Marshall, Trans.). Continuum. (Original work published 1960)

Søren Kierkegaard
Kierkegaard, S. (1985). Works of love (H. V. Hong & E. H. Hong, Trans.). Princeton University Press. (Original work published 1847)

Donna Hicks
Hicks, D. (2011). Dignity: The essential role it plays in resolving conflict. Yale University Press.



I have written the text with a few suggestions from OpanAI/ChatGTP which also made the illustrations 

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