The Abhidhamma Pitaka, the third, newest and longest of the three divisions of the Pali Canon, is the original source of the theory of Buddhism as a school of psychology; the Canon is universally acknowledged as the oldest and most reliable source of Buddhist Sacred texts. This makes timing one of the problems in the development of Buddhist psychology. On one hand, Buddhism precedes psychology by over two millennia; on the other, the Abhidhamma Pitaka is dated around two hundred years after the death of Siddhattha Gotama. So the Teachings of the Buddha were not proposed to be a school of psychology and obviously such evolution was not intended by the Buddha. (Last, least and just for fun, the first root of the word “psychology” comes for the Greek “psykhe," which means “soul”, an entity that Buddhism considers non existing). So Buddhist psychology is an inconclusive puzzle, which must be completed with pieces from other schools and made up by each scholar within his/her own specialization and frame of mind.
Jack Kornfield’s approach to the subject is described in THE WISE HEART. Here he explains in detail what he calls the twenty six principles of Buddhist psychology. I am not very happy with the result. Most items are indeed principles —comprehensive and fundamental rules— though some, as you could expect, are no more than basic Siddhattha Gotama’s Teachings. Examples: Don’t cling to self (#5), be mindful of your body (#8), your thoughts (#10) and your intention (#17), release grasping/be free from suffering (#16). and follow the middle way (#24). A few other, such as see inner nobility of human beings (#1) and recognize and transform unhealthy patterns of our personality (#12), are just nice recommendations that you find in almost any personal growth writing. A couple of principles, shift attention from experience to spacious consciousness (#3) and mindful attention to any experience is liberating (#7), seems to contradict each other.
Buddhist psychotherapy further complicates the whole subject from the strict doctrinal point of view. Whoever agrees to work with a therapist is after some kind of change, namely wanting to be somebody different from what he/she currently is. I see problems here. The desire to change is the THIRST, the second noble truth, the root of suffering, “the craving that makes for further becoming” (Thanissaro Bhikkhu), “the craving that produces renewal” (Ñanamoli Thera), or “the craving which leads to renewed existence” (Peter Harvey). Most therapy cases, as described extensively and illustratively by Jack Kornfield, portray situations that obviously aim at modifying mental health conditions. There the Buddha’s Teachings and the Buddhist meditation techniques have proved to be excellent tools to help patients. But they were just some of the tools that are to be used in connection with other techniques of, so to speak, conventional western therapies. You can hardly talk of such a thing as a purely / exclusively Buddhist approach to psychotherapy.
The supporting material of each principle is excellent thanks to the long experience of the author both as a psychologist and a therapist, on one hand, and as the Buddhist practitioner and scholar of many years, on the other. Most quotations prove very helpful to the author purpose, particularly those by Ajanh Chah. The Buddha’s quotations are also most appropriate still, as the meticulous picky reader who often checks alternative translations, I would love to see the suttas or discourses where they are taken from. This is particularly important to take into account when excerpts from the Mahayana texts are quoted since they are farther away from what might actually have been the Buddha’s words.
Jack Kornfield makes THE WISE HEART a very entertaining good-title-to-read book. But it does not match the expectancy created by the subtitle.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
The Pragmatic Spirituality
According to the French contemporary philosopher André Comte-Sponville, we can be spiritual without the need to believe in a Divine Principle. The important matter, according to the writer, is not about God, religion or atheism but about spiritual life. He states «The spirit is not a substance. Rather it is a function, a capacity, an act (the act of thinking, willing, imagining, making wisecracks…) and this act, at least, is irrefutable since nothing can be refuted without it». Spirit as substance, on the other hand, is easily contradicted and not possible to prove true. What is then spirituality? Comte-Sponville defines it as follows: «Spirituality is our finite relationship to infinity, our temporal experience of eternity, our relative access to the absolute». In his book The Little book of Atheist Spirituality establishes that the sacred does not necessarily implies metaphysical beliefs. The Buddha, Confucius and Lao-Tzu not only did not consider themselves gods or prophets but neither identified themselves with any kind of deity or transcendental form. In consequence the original and pure expressions of Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism had more to do with ways of proper living than with rituals or ceremonies, more with meditation than with declarations of faith. Within these three ancient philosophies it is possible to be «religious» without being theist. And within Comte-Sponville’s definition of spirituality lies the «territory» of PRAGMATIC BUDDHISM.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
On Intelligence
During the past half-millennium the history of anatomy documents the peculiar custom of using the most advanced technology of each era as the definite model of the human brain. The first match was with clockworks during the sixteenth century; then with the steam engine, in the nineteenth century; one hundred years later with telephone switchboards in the first half of the twentieth century, and in the recent decades, naturally and expectedly, with electronic computers. However sound they might have appeared at each time, all these comparisons proved inadequate after a while. All have fallen short when matching up manmade machines with the extraordinary prodigy of the human organ that designed them.
.
Twenty years ago Jeff Hawkins, the architect of many technologies and a successful Silicon Valley entrepreneur, decided to turn the metaphor all the way around and walk it in the opposite direction. Instead of starting from already invented equipment to develop explanatory models, Hawkins decided to first understand the way the brain operates—more specifically, how the cerebral cortex works—and design from there on a new technology. With such a challenge in mind, after studying neurology on his own and co-working with many scientists, the ambitious businessman initiates a monumental (if not chimerical) project to design and build electronic equipment that is to operate similarly to the human brain. Numenta, a company founded by Hawkins in 2005, has the mission to make this initiative a reality. His book ON INTELLIGENCE, written with science journalist Sandra Blakeslee, describes the reasoning behind his adventure, the factors that support the idea, the obstacles that make it extremely complex and the scientific developments that will contribute to its realization.
.
There is only one chapter in the book complex and difficult to read (the author warns about this) that presents his view of a detailed model of the functioning of the cerebral cortex, the thin layer of thirty billion neurons that surrounds the brain. Even with this exception, ON INTELLIGENCE is an entertaining and educational book. The description of the four attributes of the cerebral cortex that make it radically different from electronic computers is fascinating. The first attribute is the storage of sequences of patterns (instead of isolated data interrelated by data models and database software) that enables the recording and recalling of stories or sequences. The second is the ability to pick the full story or sequence from only a fraction of any part of whole without the need to access the complete pattern (we recognize a song by just listening a bit of it). The third is the conservation of the essence of every pattern although the rest of the information might be variable (this is why we recognize incomplete objects or identify people we have not seen in years despite changes of age, contexture or makeup). The fourth, the difficult-to read chapter of the book, is the storage of the patterns in a hierarchical structure.
.
These attributes provide the cerebral cortex an intellectual capacity quite different from those put forward in previous interpretations. According to Hawkins the cortex is an organ of prediction; predicting is the main function of the human brain and this capability is the very foundation of intelligence. The neurons involved in any activity (or some associated neurons yet to be discovered) are activated prior to the arrival of the corresponding sensory signals, be they visual, auditory or tactile, anticipating the coming events from some sort of extrapolation of all the patterns that the cortex has already in its memory. For example, when someone enters a restaurant where he never has been, he can "predict" with a good degree of certainty in what direction are the bathrooms. When the event is completed, if the result matches expectations (this happens most of the time), the owner of the brain does not even realize that a verification transaction was performed. If, on the contrary, expectations do not coincide with reality, there is a surprising reaction, followed by corrections and learning lessons that eventually lead to the creation of new patterns.
.
In Hawkins’s perspective, the human brain is an organ that builds models based on patterns and analogies and generates with them creative predictions. When it does not find correlations, the brain invents them anyway with minimum consideration on how preposterous they may turn out. Pseudoscience, prejudices, intolerance and religions are the result of these inventions.
.
The concept of prediction that Hawkins developed in 1986—we should remember that he did not graduate in neurology—was later confirmed in independent scientific studies. For example, Rodolfo Llinás, a neuroscientist at the New York University School of Medicine establishes in 2001: "The capacity to predict the outcome of future events—critical to successful movement—is, most likely, the ultimate and most common of all global brain functions." I believe the development of truly intelligent machines is an unfeasible project. Its endeavor, nevertheless, will lead to many new scientific discoveries. The brilliant entrepreneur recognizes that his target is neither the invention of an electronic model of human consciousness nor the production of machines that arrogantly say "I." His main interests aim at the development of computers with vision, the design of thinking robots and the construction of machines with capacity to learn. The invitation to the greed of the young generations to join in some way the great idea is outside the context and beauty of the whole project. Contributing to human growth or making a difference—not plain utilitarianism—should be the driving forces of scientific research. Still, from my perspective of cognitive science enthusiast, I consider that the very description of the functioning cerebral cortex (I suppose that a few neuroscientists may disagree with it) and the concept of prediction as the fundament of human Intelligence far deserve the reading of this excellent book.
.
Twenty years ago Jeff Hawkins, the architect of many technologies and a successful Silicon Valley entrepreneur, decided to turn the metaphor all the way around and walk it in the opposite direction. Instead of starting from already invented equipment to develop explanatory models, Hawkins decided to first understand the way the brain operates—more specifically, how the cerebral cortex works—and design from there on a new technology. With such a challenge in mind, after studying neurology on his own and co-working with many scientists, the ambitious businessman initiates a monumental (if not chimerical) project to design and build electronic equipment that is to operate similarly to the human brain. Numenta, a company founded by Hawkins in 2005, has the mission to make this initiative a reality. His book ON INTELLIGENCE, written with science journalist Sandra Blakeslee, describes the reasoning behind his adventure, the factors that support the idea, the obstacles that make it extremely complex and the scientific developments that will contribute to its realization.
.
There is only one chapter in the book complex and difficult to read (the author warns about this) that presents his view of a detailed model of the functioning of the cerebral cortex, the thin layer of thirty billion neurons that surrounds the brain. Even with this exception, ON INTELLIGENCE is an entertaining and educational book. The description of the four attributes of the cerebral cortex that make it radically different from electronic computers is fascinating. The first attribute is the storage of sequences of patterns (instead of isolated data interrelated by data models and database software) that enables the recording and recalling of stories or sequences. The second is the ability to pick the full story or sequence from only a fraction of any part of whole without the need to access the complete pattern (we recognize a song by just listening a bit of it). The third is the conservation of the essence of every pattern although the rest of the information might be variable (this is why we recognize incomplete objects or identify people we have not seen in years despite changes of age, contexture or makeup). The fourth, the difficult-to read chapter of the book, is the storage of the patterns in a hierarchical structure.
.
These attributes provide the cerebral cortex an intellectual capacity quite different from those put forward in previous interpretations. According to Hawkins the cortex is an organ of prediction; predicting is the main function of the human brain and this capability is the very foundation of intelligence. The neurons involved in any activity (or some associated neurons yet to be discovered) are activated prior to the arrival of the corresponding sensory signals, be they visual, auditory or tactile, anticipating the coming events from some sort of extrapolation of all the patterns that the cortex has already in its memory. For example, when someone enters a restaurant where he never has been, he can "predict" with a good degree of certainty in what direction are the bathrooms. When the event is completed, if the result matches expectations (this happens most of the time), the owner of the brain does not even realize that a verification transaction was performed. If, on the contrary, expectations do not coincide with reality, there is a surprising reaction, followed by corrections and learning lessons that eventually lead to the creation of new patterns.
.
In Hawkins’s perspective, the human brain is an organ that builds models based on patterns and analogies and generates with them creative predictions. When it does not find correlations, the brain invents them anyway with minimum consideration on how preposterous they may turn out. Pseudoscience, prejudices, intolerance and religions are the result of these inventions.
.
The concept of prediction that Hawkins developed in 1986—we should remember that he did not graduate in neurology—was later confirmed in independent scientific studies. For example, Rodolfo Llinás, a neuroscientist at the New York University School of Medicine establishes in 2001: "The capacity to predict the outcome of future events—critical to successful movement—is, most likely, the ultimate and most common of all global brain functions." I believe the development of truly intelligent machines is an unfeasible project. Its endeavor, nevertheless, will lead to many new scientific discoveries. The brilliant entrepreneur recognizes that his target is neither the invention of an electronic model of human consciousness nor the production of machines that arrogantly say "I." His main interests aim at the development of computers with vision, the design of thinking robots and the construction of machines with capacity to learn. The invitation to the greed of the young generations to join in some way the great idea is outside the context and beauty of the whole project. Contributing to human growth or making a difference—not plain utilitarianism—should be the driving forces of scientific research. Still, from my perspective of cognitive science enthusiast, I consider that the very description of the functioning cerebral cortex (I suppose that a few neuroscientists may disagree with it) and the concept of prediction as the fundament of human Intelligence far deserve the reading of this excellent book.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Buddhism should not be religion
The Teachings of the Buddha are essentially a way of living with no room for beliefs, ceremonies, rewarding heavens or punishing hells. Buddhism is a religion; the Teachings are not. If Buddhism did not exist, a Buddhist would be somebody who practiced the Teachings, like a violinist is one who plays the violin and a pianist, one who plays the piano. If there is no “violinism” or “pianism”, semantically speaking there should not be "Buddhism". As good violinists or pianists, authentic Buddhists do not need to believe in metaphysical hypotheses or perform strange rituals; they only need to practice something. If they practice seldom, results are poor. If they practice a lot, progress is remarkable. If they practice permanently, they become virtuosos. Similarly, as musicians should abide by musical theory, Buddhists should act in accordance with the Natural Order.
.
The Natural Order refers to those aspects of nature and experience that relate to the instructions on how to live. Eastern languages use one single language for bothTeachings and Natural Order: This is DHAMMA the most important word for Buddhism. In summary, the Teachings of the Buddha are a way of living (not a religion).Additionally, but not less important, the Teaching are in line with contemporary thought and the most recent findings of neurology and cognitive sciences.
.
The Natural Order refers to those aspects of nature and experience that relate to the instructions on how to live. Eastern languages use one single language for bothTeachings and Natural Order: This is DHAMMA the most important word for Buddhism. In summary, the Teachings of the Buddha are a way of living (not a religion).Additionally, but not less important, the Teaching are in line with contemporary thought and the most recent findings of neurology and cognitive sciences.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Pragmatic Buddha: Non-religious Buddhism
At that time "the world was so recent that many things still lacked names, and in order to mention them it was necessary to point". With this imaginative metaphor Gabriel Garcia Marquez describes the immemorial remoteness of his One Hundred Years of Solitude’s early days. In the same way, the fingers of modern scholars are now pointing to the Buddha’s pragmatism, twenty four centuries before such word entered languages after being coined by North American philosopher Charles S. Peirce.
.
Two paragraphs, appearing in many Buddha’s discourses, corroborate this assertion. The first one, a summary of his Teachings in itself, is Siddhattha Gotama’s recurrent repetition of his four noble truths: “I only explain the reality of suffering, the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to the cessation of suffering". The second one are the Buddha’s answers to a disciple who was requesting clarity on a number of uncertain questions related to the nature of the cosmos, the immanence of the soul and the existence of the buddhas after their death. Says Siddhattha Gotama: “In the discussion of any hypothesis about supernatural matters—be them the eternity or finitude of the universe, the existence or nonexistence of the soul, its immortality or its disappearance, rebirth or reincarnation—the affirmation or negation of any position about such issues is only a bunch of opinions, a desert of opinions, a manipulation of opinions that in no way leads to the cessation of suffering.” In other words, the only notions of importance for the Buddha are those few things that lead to the end of suffering; any action or discussion that does not help in that respect is merely a complete waste of time.
.
Pragmatic is the person who uses a practical approach to problems and matters of everyday life; for such person, the truth is whatever works and produces results. Rules and behaviors must go together and have beneficial consequences; therefore, theory and practice should not belong to different domains. (Pragmatic comes from Greek pragmatikos meaning “versed in matters of business"). The Teachings of Buddha are pragmatic, says Anglo-German Buddhist scholar Edward Conze, because they avoid speculation and aim only to the habits and practices that lead to the cessation of suffering. The four noble truths are the only the only necessary truths. The end of suffering results from knowing them, recognizing their imperative need and actually experiencing them. Knowledge needs to be lived if it is to become wisdom.
.
The pragmatic vision of the Buddha is most appropriate for the modern individuals interested in putting an end to their anguish—the Henry D. Thoreau’s “mass of men who live lives of quiet desperation”—by some practical approach that excludes abstract concepts and unexplainable dogmas. When an approach works for someone, it will definitely be the “truth” for him or her.
.
Two paragraphs, appearing in many Buddha’s discourses, corroborate this assertion. The first one, a summary of his Teachings in itself, is Siddhattha Gotama’s recurrent repetition of his four noble truths: “I only explain the reality of suffering, the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to the cessation of suffering". The second one are the Buddha’s answers to a disciple who was requesting clarity on a number of uncertain questions related to the nature of the cosmos, the immanence of the soul and the existence of the buddhas after their death. Says Siddhattha Gotama: “In the discussion of any hypothesis about supernatural matters—be them the eternity or finitude of the universe, the existence or nonexistence of the soul, its immortality or its disappearance, rebirth or reincarnation—the affirmation or negation of any position about such issues is only a bunch of opinions, a desert of opinions, a manipulation of opinions that in no way leads to the cessation of suffering.” In other words, the only notions of importance for the Buddha are those few things that lead to the end of suffering; any action or discussion that does not help in that respect is merely a complete waste of time.
.
Pragmatic is the person who uses a practical approach to problems and matters of everyday life; for such person, the truth is whatever works and produces results. Rules and behaviors must go together and have beneficial consequences; therefore, theory and practice should not belong to different domains. (Pragmatic comes from Greek pragmatikos meaning “versed in matters of business"). The Teachings of Buddha are pragmatic, says Anglo-German Buddhist scholar Edward Conze, because they avoid speculation and aim only to the habits and practices that lead to the cessation of suffering. The four noble truths are the only the only necessary truths. The end of suffering results from knowing them, recognizing their imperative need and actually experiencing them. Knowledge needs to be lived if it is to become wisdom.
.
The pragmatic vision of the Buddha is most appropriate for the modern individuals interested in putting an end to their anguish—the Henry D. Thoreau’s “mass of men who live lives of quiet desperation”—by some practical approach that excludes abstract concepts and unexplainable dogmas. When an approach works for someone, it will definitely be the “truth” for him or her.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
The Selfish Gene
I read this book for the first time in the 80’s and found it excellent; it is quite well placed in number nine of the Discover Magazine 2006 list of Greatest Science Books of All Time. When Dawkins first published his book back in 1976, he wrote that, though the theory of evolution was generally recognized and barely doubted then, “the full implications of Darwin’s revolution had yet to be realized.” I feel positively that those implications are now absolutely realized and only religious fanatics dare to question natural selection. This quantum leap in universal understanding is due in a large proportion to The Selfish Gene. Dawkins not only explained Darwin’s selection but also expanded it backward in time with sound clarifications to the emergence of the first self-replicable molecule and forward to the recent time through imaginative elucidations about the replication of cultural characteristics through what he calls “memes.” Memes, the social equivalences of biological genes, is a word the author created and is nowadays of common use in social sciences.
.
When I became seriously interested in the Teaching of Siddhattha Gotama, the Buddha, there were a few notions in common between the Teachings of the ancient sage and the assertions of the modern biologist—the inexistence of metaphysical essences in living beings, the purposelessness of life as a phenomenon, the “undivine” nature of morality—that I decided to read once more The Selfish Gene. In a material universe, how or where does Buddhist reincarnation fit with Dawkins’s biology? Here I have my own interpretation (which the bright English scientist most probably does not share). Each gen or, better said, the design in it coded, is eternal. Says Dawkins: “Each gen leaps from body to body in its own way and for its own ends, abandoning a succession of mortal bodies before they sink in senility and death. The genes are the immortals, or rather, they are defined as genetic entities that come close to deserving the title”. So, the much talked reincarnation or rebirth of some Eastern religions could be well assimilated to body-to-body transmission of genetic information, instead of some kind of mysterious energy or metaphysical essence. Enough of that! My biological interpretation of Buddhist reincarnation does not add a bit to the wonder of this book. The Selfish Gene is just superb.
.
When I became seriously interested in the Teaching of Siddhattha Gotama, the Buddha, there were a few notions in common between the Teachings of the ancient sage and the assertions of the modern biologist—the inexistence of metaphysical essences in living beings, the purposelessness of life as a phenomenon, the “undivine” nature of morality—that I decided to read once more The Selfish Gene. In a material universe, how or where does Buddhist reincarnation fit with Dawkins’s biology? Here I have my own interpretation (which the bright English scientist most probably does not share). Each gen or, better said, the design in it coded, is eternal. Says Dawkins: “Each gen leaps from body to body in its own way and for its own ends, abandoning a succession of mortal bodies before they sink in senility and death. The genes are the immortals, or rather, they are defined as genetic entities that come close to deserving the title”. So, the much talked reincarnation or rebirth of some Eastern religions could be well assimilated to body-to-body transmission of genetic information, instead of some kind of mysterious energy or metaphysical essence. Enough of that! My biological interpretation of Buddhist reincarnation does not add a bit to the wonder of this book. The Selfish Gene is just superb.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
The Buddha: Agnostic or Pragmatic?
At that time "the world was so recent that many things still lacked names, and in order to mention them it was necessary to point". With this imaginative metaphor Gabriel Garcia Marquez describes the immemorial remoteness of his One Hundred Years of Solitude’s early days. In the same way, the fingers of modern scholars are now pointing to the Buddha’s agnosticism and pragmatism, twenty four centuries before such words entered languages after being coined by English biologist Thomas H. Huxley and North American philosopher Charles S. Peirce respectively.
Two paragraphs, appearing in many Buddha’s discourses, corroborate this assertion. The first one, a summary of his Teachings in itself, is Siddhattha Gotama’s recurrent repetition of his four noble truths: “I only explain the reality of suffering, the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to the cessation of suffering". The second one are the Buddha’s answers to a disciple who was requesting clarity on a number of uncertain questions related to the nature of the cosmos, the immanence of the soul and the existence of the buddhas after their death. Says Siddhattha Gotama: “In the discussion of any hypothesis about supernatural matters—be them the eternity or finitude of the universe, the existence or nonexistence of the soul, its immortality or its disappearance, rebirth or reincarnation—the affirmation or negation of any position about such issues is only a bunch of opinions, a desert of opinions, a manipulation of opinions that in no way leads to the cessation of suffering.” In other words, the only notions of importance for the Buddha are those few things that lead to the end of suffering; any action or discussion that does not help in that respect is merely a complete waste of time.
Before associating them with Buddhism, we need to describe the two terms that we are talking about. Agnostic is one who recognizes the human inability to reach definitive conclusions on certain matters, particularly those of a theological or metaphysical nature, the complexity of which exceeds the capacity of human reason. Instead of exhausting wits to support a point of view in one or another direction, the agnostic neither denies nor asserts; he simply does not expend brain power on issues which are logically or physically impossible to refute or verify. Since the ultimate reality is incomprehensible, the agnostic merely says: “I do not know." Over the last fifty years, a century after Huxley’s time, dozens of thinkers, generously supported by modern research, are beginning to share the "cautious ignorance" of the English biologist.
Looking inside, into our inner world, many of today’s neurologists and anthropologists consider that the brain, as it has evolved through ages until reaching the prodigy of the Homo sapiens’ mind, has developed capacities which are exclusively for the survival of its owner and not for the understanding of the laws of the cosmos. Looking outside, both to distant galaxies and neighboring subatomic particles, modern physicists like 1979-Nobel-Prize winner Steven Weinberg, think that the reality of matter and energy is exceedingly mysterious, even for the brightest and most experienced scientists, a heavy weight statement coming from such a top name.
The assembly of the universe did not happen with the intention of being understood by the human mind, so natural sciences, which almost always lean toward the materialist interpretation, end up hitting against a wall that eventually takes the academic world to a prudent agnostic standpoint. The reasoning behind such skeptic position is quite simple: There exists an extremely wide disparity between the problem presented by physics and the tool provided by neurology. You cannot paint a red circle with a blue marker. If the problem is the interpretation of the cosmos (painting a red circle) and the brain (the blue marker) is the only tool available, the problem will remain unsolved. The Buddha, according to Scottish author Stephen Batchelor, a former Buddhist monk, is agnostic; Siddhattha Gotama, when confronted with complex unsolvable issues, either remains silent or abstains from formulating hypothesis. (Needless to say, the Buddha never speaks of physics or sciences and this paragraph does not imply that scientific research is to be stopped.) Other Buddhist scholars disagree with Batchelor’s statement—indeed the Buddha never says “I do not know”. But Siddhattha Gotama does advise his rational audiences to be agnostic.
Pragmatic, the other term under consideration, is the person who uses a practical approach to problems and matters of everyday life; for such person, the truth is whatever works and produces results. Rules and behaviors must go together and have beneficial consequences; therefore, theory and practice should not belong to different domains. (Pragmatic comes from Greek pragmatikos meaning “versed in matters of business"). The Teachings of Buddha are pragmatic, says Anglo-German Buddhist scholar Edward Conze, because they avoid speculation and aim only to the habits and practices that lead to the cessation of suffering. The four noble truths are the only “absolute” truths, the only necessary truths. The end of suffering results from knowing them, recognizing their imperative need and actually experiencing them. Knowledge needs to be lived if it is to become wisdom. Those familiar with the Buddha’s Teachings, even at elementary level, well know the intimate unity of the noble truths (the theory) and the eightfold path (the practice): The fourth noble truth is the path and the first practice of the path is the intimate understanding of the four truths.
Who might have interest in this dichotomy? The agnostic Buddha (or his agnostic recommendation) interests the rational minds, those individuals ruled by logic and analysis, who feel uncomfortable with both the faith of the blind believers and the limitations of the human mind. The pragmatic Buddha, on the other hand, is for a much larger audience, the Henry D. Thoreau’s “mass of men who live lives of quiet desperation” willing to put an end to their anguish by some practical approach that excludes abstract concepts and unexplainable dogmas. When an approach works for someone, it will definitely be true for him or her.
In terms of “length” or coverage, the Teachings of the Buddha are more pragmatic than agnostic. The full eightfold path is pragmatic (should produce useful results) while agnosticism is displayed only in the first noble practice, the “right view”, which Vietnamese Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hahn precisely and agnostically defines as “the absence of views”.
Given the above considerations, agnostic and pragmatic are both adequate qualifiers for Siddhattha Gotama’s thought; they are not a one-or-the-other dilemma. In spite of being myself agnostic, what I personally likes best about the Teachings is their pragmatism. But evidently the Buddha would probably disagree with any attempt, like this one, which seeks to catalogue his message within any dictionary of philosophy. "Please, friends”, I guess he would say, “this discussion in no way contributes to the elimination of suffering."
Two paragraphs, appearing in many Buddha’s discourses, corroborate this assertion. The first one, a summary of his Teachings in itself, is Siddhattha Gotama’s recurrent repetition of his four noble truths: “I only explain the reality of suffering, the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to the cessation of suffering". The second one are the Buddha’s answers to a disciple who was requesting clarity on a number of uncertain questions related to the nature of the cosmos, the immanence of the soul and the existence of the buddhas after their death. Says Siddhattha Gotama: “In the discussion of any hypothesis about supernatural matters—be them the eternity or finitude of the universe, the existence or nonexistence of the soul, its immortality or its disappearance, rebirth or reincarnation—the affirmation or negation of any position about such issues is only a bunch of opinions, a desert of opinions, a manipulation of opinions that in no way leads to the cessation of suffering.” In other words, the only notions of importance for the Buddha are those few things that lead to the end of suffering; any action or discussion that does not help in that respect is merely a complete waste of time.
Before associating them with Buddhism, we need to describe the two terms that we are talking about. Agnostic is one who recognizes the human inability to reach definitive conclusions on certain matters, particularly those of a theological or metaphysical nature, the complexity of which exceeds the capacity of human reason. Instead of exhausting wits to support a point of view in one or another direction, the agnostic neither denies nor asserts; he simply does not expend brain power on issues which are logically or physically impossible to refute or verify. Since the ultimate reality is incomprehensible, the agnostic merely says: “I do not know." Over the last fifty years, a century after Huxley’s time, dozens of thinkers, generously supported by modern research, are beginning to share the "cautious ignorance" of the English biologist.
Looking inside, into our inner world, many of today’s neurologists and anthropologists consider that the brain, as it has evolved through ages until reaching the prodigy of the Homo sapiens’ mind, has developed capacities which are exclusively for the survival of its owner and not for the understanding of the laws of the cosmos. Looking outside, both to distant galaxies and neighboring subatomic particles, modern physicists like 1979-Nobel-Prize winner Steven Weinberg, think that the reality of matter and energy is exceedingly mysterious, even for the brightest and most experienced scientists, a heavy weight statement coming from such a top name.
The assembly of the universe did not happen with the intention of being understood by the human mind, so natural sciences, which almost always lean toward the materialist interpretation, end up hitting against a wall that eventually takes the academic world to a prudent agnostic standpoint. The reasoning behind such skeptic position is quite simple: There exists an extremely wide disparity between the problem presented by physics and the tool provided by neurology. You cannot paint a red circle with a blue marker. If the problem is the interpretation of the cosmos (painting a red circle) and the brain (the blue marker) is the only tool available, the problem will remain unsolved. The Buddha, according to Scottish author Stephen Batchelor, a former Buddhist monk, is agnostic; Siddhattha Gotama, when confronted with complex unsolvable issues, either remains silent or abstains from formulating hypothesis. (Needless to say, the Buddha never speaks of physics or sciences and this paragraph does not imply that scientific research is to be stopped.) Other Buddhist scholars disagree with Batchelor’s statement—indeed the Buddha never says “I do not know”. But Siddhattha Gotama does advise his rational audiences to be agnostic.
Pragmatic, the other term under consideration, is the person who uses a practical approach to problems and matters of everyday life; for such person, the truth is whatever works and produces results. Rules and behaviors must go together and have beneficial consequences; therefore, theory and practice should not belong to different domains. (Pragmatic comes from Greek pragmatikos meaning “versed in matters of business"). The Teachings of Buddha are pragmatic, says Anglo-German Buddhist scholar Edward Conze, because they avoid speculation and aim only to the habits and practices that lead to the cessation of suffering. The four noble truths are the only “absolute” truths, the only necessary truths. The end of suffering results from knowing them, recognizing their imperative need and actually experiencing them. Knowledge needs to be lived if it is to become wisdom. Those familiar with the Buddha’s Teachings, even at elementary level, well know the intimate unity of the noble truths (the theory) and the eightfold path (the practice): The fourth noble truth is the path and the first practice of the path is the intimate understanding of the four truths.
Who might have interest in this dichotomy? The agnostic Buddha (or his agnostic recommendation) interests the rational minds, those individuals ruled by logic and analysis, who feel uncomfortable with both the faith of the blind believers and the limitations of the human mind. The pragmatic Buddha, on the other hand, is for a much larger audience, the Henry D. Thoreau’s “mass of men who live lives of quiet desperation” willing to put an end to their anguish by some practical approach that excludes abstract concepts and unexplainable dogmas. When an approach works for someone, it will definitely be true for him or her.
In terms of “length” or coverage, the Teachings of the Buddha are more pragmatic than agnostic. The full eightfold path is pragmatic (should produce useful results) while agnosticism is displayed only in the first noble practice, the “right view”, which Vietnamese Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hahn precisely and agnostically defines as “the absence of views”.
Given the above considerations, agnostic and pragmatic are both adequate qualifiers for Siddhattha Gotama’s thought; they are not a one-or-the-other dilemma. In spite of being myself agnostic, what I personally likes best about the Teachings is their pragmatism. But evidently the Buddha would probably disagree with any attempt, like this one, which seeks to catalogue his message within any dictionary of philosophy. "Please, friends”, I guess he would say, “this discussion in no way contributes to the elimination of suffering."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)