If we wish to consider the matter of the satirical contest on God launched by Charlie Hebdo from a philosophical perspective, we must recognise that two concepts are at play: our laughter and our relationship with the divine (not necessarily with the one God of monotheisms, but with the divine – that is, the higher mystery that human beings have always perceived in relation to their existence on this planet).

Let me begin with laughter, drawing on the definition given by Dante in the Convivio, where he writes: “Laughter is a glimmering of the soul’s delight.” What does he mean by “glimmering”? In the cited text, Dante means “manifestation”, but it is no coincidence that he chose to describe this type of manifestation specifically as “glimmering” (corruscazione in Italian).

In modern Italian, the term would be corrugamento - wrinkle -, which refers to the act of wrinkling, the forming of a crease or frown – typically on the forehead – which conveys not pleasure, but rather pain. Laughter, on the contrary, momentarily smooths and relaxes the forehead, removing its creases.

So, what can we learn from the Italian Supreme Poet’s definition of laughter? That there exists a pleasure, a “delight of the soul”, which laughter can in some way exaggerate, intensify, or force to the point of producing wrinkles – almost as though it were pain.

This means that laughter, contrary to what mainstream culture believes – which treats it as an absolute, a veritable act of worship (today, making people laugh is how one wins over others) – can also express negative meanings from the perspective of overall human wellbeing. This is evident from the derivatives of the main verb ridere (to laugh), which I shall list here in alphabetical order: deridere (to mock), irridere (to deride), and sorridere (to smile). (There is also arridere - to bring good fortune -, but I will omit it as it has taken on a more figurative sense).

To smile is the most beautiful, as it refers to subtle humour, from which good humour originates. Indeed, many rightly highlight the beneficial nature of laughter. There are websites (some, incidentally, linked to dental practices) which list in detail the benefits of laughing – for example, improved muscle tone and breathing, reduced cholesterol, relaxation, detoxification, stress relief, and even antidepressant effects. They write: “Laughter is the best therapy for physical and mental health.”

A specific field has even emerged called gelotology, a neologism meaning “the science of laughter” (where gelo has nothing to do with temperature but comes from the Greek verb gelao, to laugh). Gelotology seeks to scientifically demonstrate the calming, pain-relieving, euphoric, and immune-boosting effects of laughter – effects which undoubtedly exist and which we all, hopefully as often as possible, experience.

However, two things must be said. The first is to stress that the beneficial quality of laughter is not absolute, but depends on how and why one laughs. Derision and mockery represent a kind of laughter that is anything but relaxing: not only because it is always directed at someone who, like a genuine victim, is ridiculed and showered with contempt, hostility, and malice, but also because these negative emotions inevitably seep into the psyche of the one doing the mocking, filling it with negativity. This is what happens with sarcasm, with aggressive laughter that amounts to an insult – if not a punch – and often reveals vulgarity, obscenity, virulence, and aggression.

To mock and to deride can be equivalent to wounding – perhaps even to killing, in a psychological sense. Bullying and mobbing begin exactly in this way: with mockery – mockery of an individual by a group, where the individual becomes a scapegoat upon whom the group unleashes all its biting sarcasm which, as the word suggests, leads them to bite mercilessly, through derision, at the psyche of the unfortunate target. Hardly pain-relieving effects! The benefits that laughter undoubtedly has can, in certain cases, be entirely overturned.

The second point to consider is that sometimes even the opposite of laughter – crying – can have a positive value, because in certain circumstances, a good cry can be far more liberating and revitalising than a laugh. It is no coincidence that in ancient Greek theatre, alongside comedy, there was – and in a primary position – tragedy.

Let us now turn to the second concept: the divine.

The divine arises from the awareness of confronting an excess, a “more” presented by the overall reality of existence which exceeds the cognitive capacity of our reason. As Norberto Bobbio stated in his “last wishes”, published on 10 January 2004: “I do not consider myself either an atheist or an agnostic; as a man of reason, not of faith, I know that I am immersed in mystery.”

It is the reason, properly exercised, that delivers thoughtful human beings into the dimension of mystery: the mystery of why life exists, of its origin, its destination, its logic, and its overall meaning. The perception of the divine emerges from this point – from this emotion of the intelligence experienced by the highest minds such as Heraclitus, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Seneca, Plotinus, Marcus Aurelius, all the great medieval thinkers including Dante above all, and among the moderns: Pascal, Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Kierkegaard, Rousseau.

Without this mystery, we would not have had the music of Monteverdi, Bach, Vivaldi, Mozart, Beethoven. We would not have had Giotto, Michelangelo, Chagall. And infinitely more besides – including the cathedrals and countryside churches that dot every corner of our magnificent old continent, France included.

So, what does it mean to mock the divine?

I believe one can – and perhaps must – mock the superstitious and the dogmatic people who, more often than not, display a cognitive disconnection between mind and reality. But I also believe that to mock and deride the divine as such is a sign of a spiritual illness: namely, the despair and hopelessness of someone who has lost the ability to experience the sense of mystery and finds themselves viewing the meaning of their existence purely as a grotesque enactment of the “selfish gene” (to use Richard Dawkins’ well-known phrase), and who therefore can do nothing but laugh bitterly at everything – especially at those who have not lost their connection with what Heisenberg called the “central order”.

In their regard, I believe Dante’s words are the most apt: “Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa - Let us not speak of them, but look and pass on.”

See,  “Charlie Hebdo”, la derisione del divino e la malattia spirituale dell’uomo moderno

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