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Hesiod, next to Homer perhaps the most celebrated poet of the Greek archaic period, recounts a myth in his Works and Days that remains familiar to this very day. In Greek mythology, the origins of technology are associated with the titan Prometheus. He teaches human beings how to make fire, which becomes the symbolic source of technological development. Zeus, who just then is engaged in a struggle with the titans for supremacy over the world, takes revenge by giving a gift to Prometheus‹ rather slow-witted brother, Epimetheus: a container or vessel, incorrectly translated into German as a »box.« The significance of this gift is enhanced by the fact that it is borne by a woman expressly created to carry out the task. Hephaestus forms her out of clay, Athena adorns her, Aphrodite grants her grace and beauty, and Hermes contributes his deceitful tongue and cunning disposition to the entire scheme. The woman, named Pandora, bears the epithet »the all-gifted« or »the bearer of all gifts.«

At any rate, Epimetheus accepts the gift even though his brother has warned him against it, and opens the container. From it every kind of evil escapes into the world: sickness, toil, worry, etc. When an attempt is made to close the lid again, it is already too late. Only one thing remains in the vessel: élpis or hope.

One banal interpretation of the myth sees it as expressing a pessimistic attitude toward the world, where every kind of evil is present and hopelessness prevails. In fact, the myth can be interpreted quite differently, indeed in the opposite way: hope can be understood as the gods‹ final gift, preserved in the vessel. The evils fly out while hope remains as protection against them. Zeus at least leaves human beings with hope, which may make life among so many ills bearable. On this reading of the myth, hope would be a consolation and a resource enabling people to act. It prevents resignation, helps us endure suffering, and motivates us to work. On the other hand, a negative interpretation of the myth sees hope as consolation withheld--as something of which human beings have been deprived, since after all hope remains in the container and does not reach human beings. In this way Zeus denies to humans even that ultimate antidote against the evils.

»One has to wonder how hope can be interpreted positively.«

Ever since that time, misery has been visited upon a world without hope. However, if one bears in mind that only bad things came out of the »box,« one of course must wonder how hope – regardless of whether it is withheld or preserved – could be interpreted positively. Consequently, yet a third interpretation sees hope as the final evil: It is a pure illusion, a kind of self-deception. In short, it is just one more evil that, because it remains bottled up in the container, cannot deceive people any longer. In this case, it is a good thing that élpis cannot get out, because that way humans avoid the self-deception of mendacious hope. Almost three millennia later, Nietzsche will call hope, ironically, »the worst of evils« because it prolongs torment.

A fundamental motif of human existence

Quite independently of how this primeval myth is understood, today we can observe that hope represents a fundamental motif of human existence, as seen from a variety of different perspectives – religious, sociological, and historical. It sustains us through crises, nourishes visions of a better future, and functions as an internal stimulus for action and patience. Early on, religions interpreted hope as a transcendent value, while philosophers since antiquity have inquired into its anthropological, ethical, and epistemological dimensions. Today, the question is being posed anew: Can religion still offer hope in a world pervaded by technology, science, and digitalization, or must such hope be sought in technology itself? 

All three monotheistic religions accord a prominent place to the category of hope, though with slight differences in each case. In Judaism it is closely associated with the experiences of exile, oppression, and liberation. Because God remains loyal to his chosen people, hope is invested in a concrete promise rather than an abstract future. The latter may be of a return to the promised land, the coming of the Messiah, or the expectation that divine justice will prevail in history. Jewish hopes are not pinned to the next world, yet they are founded on God, who alone created the world and will bring it to perfection. Christianity belongs within that same tradition and further develops its idea of hope. Due to Jesus‹ resurrection, Christians can hope for eternal life. But hope is also a power that – along with love and faith – can and should change actual societies.

In his Letter to the Romans, written during the second half of the first century A.D., the Apostle Paul formulates a principle that is emblematic of this Christian outlook. He portrays Abraham, the founding father of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, as the ideal of a perfectly faithful man. Abraham hoped »when hope seemed hopeless« (Romans 4:18). It is hope in God’s promise that makes life worth living at all, since it means that God will be at the center of one’s life. In the Islamic tradition hope is inseparably linked to God’s mercy. Yet it is not just naïve confidence; rather, it is an attitude somewhere between fear and trust. A human being hopes for forgiveness, guidance and ultimately for a life in paradise, while at the same time dreading God’s judgment. The search for a balance between these extremes turns hope into an ethical motivation. It keeps the believer mindful and devoted.

All three monotheistic religions display a common basic structure. Hope is directed toward a realm beyond this-worldly experience, transcends the present time frame, and is founded upon divine promise. That promise is not arbitrary, but bound up with a cosmic order. It functions as a foundation for identity and community and contributes significantly to the creation of a sense of purpose in life both for the individual and for the community. It maintains a stabilizing effect, especially in times of crisis.

»Perspectives have shifted. Hope is increasingly invested in progress, reason, and science.«
 

The assumption that religions endow human beings with hope is not new. Even the age of Enlightenment, known for its critical attitude toward religious thought, regarded the question of the possibility of hope as a vital matter. Perspectives have shifted so much that hope increasingly has been invested in progress, reason, and science. The philosopher Immanuel Kant, who embodies the spirit of that age like no one else, formulated the third of his four fundamental philosophical questions in that exact sense. Besides the existential questions, »What can I know?«, »What should I do?«, and »What is man?«, he also addresses the question of hope: »What can I hope?« For Kant, however, hope is no longer to be considered a purely religious category; rather, it must be taken as the expression of moral reasoning and historical progress. In addition to epistemology, ethics, and anthropology, the question of whether hope could be justified also was of crucial importance for his understanding of the world.
Henceforth, philosophical thought would distinguish between a utopia of hope, hope as a form of utopian energy located in the world itself (i.e., as the motive force behind social change) and the critique of hope, as in existentialism, where hope is treated as an illusion that distracts us from acting in the here and now. Following that logic, the positions we currently take on hope are of vital importance for the modern image of a human being.

Finally, the technical and digital developments of modern society have contributed to changing not only our world and our perceptions; they have likewise reshaped our images of hope. Many of us now repose our hopes in medicine as a promise of health, long life expectancy as something worth striving for, ecology, which advocates sustainability through renewable forms of energy, and even visions of transhumanism and immortality. A trend may be observed here: technology and not least artificial intelligence are taking over functions that traditionally were associated with religious hopes.

»The hope invested in technical solutions is a fallible one.«  
 

Here it is irrelevant that religious hope involves transcendence, i.e. a dimension that goes beyond the visible world  and that technical hope obviously does not possess. Technological progress remains immanent. It may indeed be able to alleviate suffering, but it is incapable of answering questions about meaning. Disappointment poses a significant problem, since belief in progress can be transformed into disillusionment. Ecological crises and technological risks make that connection all too apparent. The focus on technical solutions creates new forms of dependency. Thus, the hope invested in such solutions is a fallible one. Although in theory religions offer a perspective that points beyond the material horizon, in practice such hope is really only intelligible in light of the power of faith to create meaning. Of course, faith is not given to just anyone. Or, as the case may be, not everyone wants to or can accept it.

Indispensable addition to a life with a future

In this sense the ancient myth of Pandora’s box is timelier than ever. Hope is a finite resource that must be concentrated and preserved. It should not be understood as a free-floating sentiment; instead, whether it is activated or not depends upon the context. The box or vessel acts as a reservoir for our future prospects and may be regarded as the link between the present and what is yet to come. In his interpretation Hesiod postulates that, even in a reality characterized as the »evil world,« we still have some future prospects available to us, albeit not in an unlimited quantity.
The parable of Pandora handed down from Hesiod’s day should not be understood as a banal »final consolation.« Instead, we should take it in a precise political-anthropological sense. It illustrates the insight that the world is permanently a place of suffering due to the unleashing of evil. At the same time, it marks off the space for human action by introducing hope as a resource kept in reserve. Thus, the myth suggests that hope should be regarded neither as a virtue nor as a vice. Rather, it should be seen in one sense as a dangerous, yet simultaneously indispensable addition to a life with a future. Hesiod allows this ambivalence to enter into his poetry, thus laying the foundation stone for today’s virulent question of whether hope preserves, withholds, or sustains us.