On a humid afternoon in the courtyard of St Mary's School, Sister Asha Maria (name changed to protect identity) kneels beside a child with cerebral palsy, gently adjusting his posture as he paints with trembling fingers. "He sees the world in color," she says, "even when others only see his limitations." Her voice carries the quiet conviction of someone who believes that every human being is a universe waiting to be honoured.

This moment—tender, unassuming—embodies a radical ethic India urgently needs: anthropocentrism, not as dominion over creation, but as reverence for the human person. In a nation increasingly fractured by hate speech, caste contempt, gender discrimination, and communal suspicion, the call to "Think Well of All, Speak Well of All, and Do Good to All" is a moral imperative.

Ancient Roots, Plural Wisdom
Anthropocentrism in India is far removed from Western notions of human supremacy. The Vedic Purusha Sukta envisions the human as a cosmic mediator, a microcosm of the universe. The Upanishads place the human journey of liberation at the centre of metaphysical inquiry to transcend it.

Jainism entrusts humans with the responsibility of restraint through ahimsa, while Buddhism views human consciousness as pivotal for cultivating compassion and alleviating suffering.

Islamic thought affirms human dignity through stewardship (khil?fah), accountability (takl?f), and justice (?adl), while maintaining reverence for all creation as signs (?y?t) of God.

Even tribal traditions across India—among the Santhals, Gonds, and Lepchas—honour the human not as a conqueror of nature, but as its ritual steward. The forest is kin, rivers are mothers, and every harvest begins with gratitude. Anthropocentrism here is reverential, relational, and deeply ecological.

Christian Vision: From Imago Dei to Omega Point
Christian anthropocentrism begins with the conviction that every human being is created in the image and likeness of God, the Imago Dei. This confers not superiority, but sacred responsibility. The human person is central not because they are powerful, but because they are called to reflect divine love, justice, and mercy.

This vision finds luminous expression in the thought of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, the Jesuit palaeontologist and mystic, who saw the human journey as a cosmic pilgrimage from the Alpha of creation to the Omega Point—Christ, the fullness of divine-human unity. Teilhard's anthropology is cruciform, marked by suffering, solidarity, and sacrificial love.

Pope Francis echoes this thought in Laudato Si', warning against "misguided anthropocentrism" that isolates the human from creation and leads to ecological devastation. He calls instead for an "integral ecology" rooted in fraternity and justice. In India, this ethic becomes a prophetic challenge to caste-based exploitation, land dispossession, and communal violence.

Youth as Stewards of Creation
Salesian Fr Savio Silveira, Founder and Global Convener of the Don Bosco Green Alliance (DBGA), offers a compelling vision of anthropocentrism rooted in youth-led ecological stewardship. "We have interfered too much with the habitats of wildlife," he warns. "We need to rethink, reconnect, and renew our lives."

This triad—Rethink. Reconnect. Renew.—is the guiding ethos of DBGA, now active in over 90 countries. Fr Savio sees young people not as passive recipients of ecological teaching, but as protagonists of change. His approach affirms the human person as central—not for control, but for conversion. Teilhard's Omega Point, in this vision, is not a distant utopia—it is the Christ who suffers in the Dalit child denied education, in the tribal mother displaced by mining, in the Muslim youth profiled as suspect.

Fr Savio's coordination with the UN and advocacy platforms positions DBGA as a bridge between grassroots ecological action and global policy dialogue. His vision of anthropocentrism is deeply relational, echoing tribal traditions and Teilhardian evolution toward divine unity.

Journalism of Mercy, Education of Hope
In the media classroom of Salesian College, Siliguri, students are taught to "speak truth with tenderness." Assistant Professor Irfan Azam insists that editorial integrity begins with how we speak about those with whom we disagree. "Words can wound or heal. To speak well of all is not naïveté—it's prophetic resistance to cynicism," he says.

This ethic challenges the culture of contempt that dominates social media and political rhetoric. It calls for a journalism of empathy, where even critique is clothed in respect.

In the tea gardens of North Bengal, tribal health workers trained by Jesuit missions offer first aid and food rations to migrant families. "We don't ask for papers," says volunteer Rina Lakra. "We ask if they're hungry." Her testimony echoes the Gospel imperative: "Whatever you do to the least of these..." Doing good to all, in this context, is an act of solidarity.

Testimonies from the Margins
Imran Sheikh, a Muslim youth leader in Murshidabad, recalls, "When my Hindu neighbour defended me during a riot, I saw God in him. That's anthropocentrism—seeing the divine in the human."

Assistant Professor Sagarika Roy, a psychology professor at Salesian College (Autonomous), Siliguri, adds, "Mental health begins with being seen. When society treats the vulnerable as invisible, it commits a slow violence."

Brother Alex Gonsalves, a Salesian social activist in Gujarat, believes, "To think well of all is to believe that no child is beyond redemption. That's the heart of education."

Meena Kumari, a Dalit student activist in Bihar, insists, "When people speak of us only in statistics, they erase our stories. To speak well of all is to restore our humanity."

Mindset Behind Hate Speech
At the heart of anthropocentrism lies a perilous illusion: that human beings—especially those from dominant groups—are the measure of all things. When this worldview is fused with political ideology and cultural insecurity, it becomes fertile ground for hate speech.

In India today, we face a troubling paradox. While every major religion—Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, Sikhism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism—teaches compassion, truth, and goodwill, hate speech, intolerance, and violence in the name of religion flourish in public discourse, cloaked in sacred symbols and nationalist fervour. This is not a failure of religion. It is a failure to live it.

The mindset behind hate speech is shaped by a convergence of fear, grievance, and manipulation. Many hate speakers operate from a deep sense of identity anxiety, perceiving their cultural or religious heritage as under siege—whether due to demographic shifts, economic pressures, or historical wounds. This fuels a defensive posture that seeks to protect the majority by vilifying minorities. The anthropocentric ego, wounded and insecure, lashes out not in truth but in fear.

Hate speech also serves as a tool of political mobilisation. It reduces complex realities to binary slogans—"us versus them"—and stokes resentment to galvanise support. During elections, rallies, and religious processions, such rhetoric becomes a weapon, dividing communities that once shared festivals, food, and friendship. The human voice, meant for prayer and praise, is repurposed to wound and exclude.

Social media and entertainment platforms have amplified this phenomenon. Hate is embedded in music, poetry, and memes, especially within Hindutva pop culture. Among youth, this normalisation of hostility turns exclusion into a badge of pride. The anthropocentric impulse here is not merely to dominate, but to dehumanise.

Most tragically, there is a loss of moral anchors. While sacred texts urge kindness and truth, hate speakers often cherry-pick or distort religious symbols to justify exclusion. The Bhagavad Gita's call to selfless action, the Quran's insistence on justice, the Gospel's ethic of love—all are sidelined in favour of slogans that serve power, not peace. The spiritual core is replaced by politicised identity, and religion becomes a tool of division rather than a path to transcendence.

This rupture is theological and anthropological. When group identity is placed above universal dignity, the essence of religion is betrayed. It reflects a distorted anthropocentrism that elevates the self over the sacred and overlooks the fact that the divine image is not confined to any caste, creed, or community.

In its most toxic form, anthropocentrism forgets that the earth is ours to share. It forgets that the human being is not the centre of creation, but its steward. And it forgets that the moral voice of religion must always speak for the vulnerable, never against them.

To reclaim our moral compass, we must return to the heart of our faith traditions. We must listen again to the prophets, the saints, the sages—and to the silenced. We must teach our youth that greatness lies in dignity and acceptance. And we must remind ourselves, as Don Bosco did, that education is not merely about knowledge, but about character, conscience, and compassion.

Restoring the Human Gaze
Fr. Moloy D'Costa, Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Kolkata, reflects, "In a time of polarisation, this ethic is revolutionary. It asks not who is right, but who is hurting. It's not about winning arguments—it's about restoring relationships."

In a republic wrestling with identity, anthropocentrism offers a path of embrace. It does not flatten differences; it dignifies them. To think well, speak well, and do good to all is a spiritual discipline, a civic duty, and a journalistic vocation. It is the ethic that can heal India's wounds by honouring diversity.

To think well of all, speak well of all, and do good to all is the heart of authentic religion. Pope Francis reminds us in Fratelli Tutti that "religious extremists... are not the voice of religion. They are a distortion of it." When faith is weaponised to exclude or demean, it loses its soul. True religion, the pope insists, must reject every form of violence motivated by belief, and become a force for fraternity, dialogue, and universal dignity.

In a time when hate speech and identity politics threaten to fracture our shared humanity, this call is urgent. We must return to the spiritual core of our traditions, where compassion prevails over conquest, and conscience triumphs over fear. Only then can our thoughts, words, and actions reflect the divine image in every person.