An interesting interpretation. I've met some humanists who use the word to mean that other humans are the only proper beneficiaries of our own ethical choices — which I personally believe is not only unethical but ultimately impossible, since all life is interdependent. Obviously we also have to pay attention to how we treat trees and rivers and insects, or we humans won't survive either. People matter, animals don't is a nonstarter. I'm content with the label "humanist" as long as it's interpreted to mean that we, as humans, individually and collectively decide what we consider to be ethical — as opposed to saying that God decides how humans ought to behave — and as long as it keeps open the broad possibility that anyone or anything in the entire universe, living or perhaps nonliving, could benefit from or otherwise be involved in humans' ethical choices. On that use of the word, "humanist" doesn't mean that humans are the most important species, only that we're responsible for our own decisions and shouldn't project our beliefs onto an imaginary god by claiming that we have access to transcendent knowledge about who we are and what we're supposed to do. A theistic worldview (the anthropomorphic sort) is at least as likely to produce the error of believing we're the most important species, since it reifies the idea of a Very Important Human. Without that kind of god, I expect it's easier to reduce the anthropocentrism in how we think about ethics (and the metaethics of how we ought to think about ethics). The reason humans should focus on managing our own behavior is only that, well, who else's behavior would we manage? And who else is going to manage us? In that sense, I see the term "humanism" as implying humility rather than arrogance. It's like, I have to manage myself today because no angel in the sky is assigned to do it for me. But I have also heard other people use it to cheerlead: Rah rah, homo sapiens, we're the best, stomp on bugs!