Byung-Chul Han takes the pulse of several of the cultural trends of the contemporary world, matters I approach with interest. His new book, On God: Thinking with Simone Weil  (Planeta, 2025), attracted me both because of God and because of my “dearest and irritating” Simone Weil—as José Jiménez Lozano called her. The main texts by Weil that Han consulted for his study are Gravity and Grace, Waiting for God, and her Notebooks. The book includes passages from Weil commented on by the author, in the style of his other works, always thought-provoking, reaffirming, on the one hand, his critique of the neoliberal performance-driven society; and on the other hand, his proposal for an urgent shift toward human intimacy in order to rediscover the most essential fibers of personal being.

Han says that “the attentive gaze is not a natural gaze, but a supernatural one. It transcends the economy of power. It is a loving, friendly gaze. Whoever pays attention to the other is restrained. The attentive gaze does not distance me from my being. Rather, it ensures that I rediscover myself. It helps me to be, instead of seizing my gaze (p. 27).” To look attentively is to contemplate, the complete opposite of the hunter’s vigilance, who stealthily awaits his prey. The attentive gaze, on the other hand, shows respect for the reality of the other, who reciprocates, modestly revealing their being. By elevation, this attitude opens itself to transcendence, breaking the ceiling of power, money, and empty fame. It follows, then, that when this primary orientation toward the other is lacking, human relationships become instrumentalized: each person seeks their own and treats the other as a mere object. Trust deteriorates, and indifference grows exponentially. We become strangers to one another.

Han also observes that “another structural reason for the crisis of religion, beyond the decline in attention, is the enormous strengthening of the self. Today, our attention revolves solely and exclusively around the self (p. 43).” Perhaps there is a touch of exaggeration in this statement, but the author is certainly right to highlight this inflammation of the “self” in contemporary culture, to the point of reducing the visual and existential horizon of our own surroundings. In an existence overflowing with “self,” there is no room left for God or for our neighbor. To make room for them, we must practice detachment, emptying our hearts and minds of the self-indulgence that diminishes the spirit. In this way, we become “the clear eye of God through which he contemplates his creation, without the self harming or distorting anything. It is about withdrawing from our soul, about emptying our soul so that things may experience the joy of being seen by God (p. 44).”

Simone Weil advises lightening the ego in these terms: “All the things I see, hear, smell, eat, and touch, all the beings I know, I deprive of contact with God, and I deprive God of contact with all of them insofar as something in me says ‘I.’ There is something I can do for all of them and for God, namely, withdraw, respect that face-to-face encounter” (Gravity and Grace, Trotta, p. 88). It is in our hands to make the divine light transparent or to obstruct it through the excess of “I” that obscures our being.

Using Weil as a reference point isn’t about laying a soft path, but rather about teaching how to walk among stones and crags. A steep, difficult path, a kind of per aspera ad astra (through hardship to the stars). That’s the path Simone Weil takes, and that’s the path Han follows. A life oriented toward others, without shying away from difficulties and the expansion of the heart, because “not only is mercy asymmetrical and supernatural, but so are friendship or the discreet, purposeless smile we offer a stranger. Asymmetrical relationships generate social spaces that allow us to breathe outside the economy. Without these spaces for breathing in emptiness, society would suffocate amidst the relationships of economic exchange (p. 56).”

The soul needs to breathe. The logic of the market, giving to receive, is insufficient to keep the quality of life alive and radiant. At best, we will achieve a society that functions, but not a good society. For the latter, we need the asymmetrical relationships inherent in the logic of giving—to which Benedict XVI referred in his encyclical Caritas in veritate—  expressed in the virtues of magnanimity, friendship, generosity, and the principle of gratuitousness. Simone Weil and Byung-Chul Han are a good pair for the task of building a perfect society.