some thoughts on the buddhist concept of clinging

It's a common misunderstanding that, in Buddhism, attachment or clinging is the cause of suffering (dukkha). But the second noble truth actually states that the origination of suffering is "the craving [tahna, literally 'thirst'] that makes for further becoming — accompanied by passion &; delight, relishing now here &; now there — i.e., craving for sensual pleasure, craving for becoming, craving for non-becoming" (SN 56.11). As Thanissaro Bhikkhu explains in Wings to Awakening:

Craving for sensuality, here, means the desire for sensual objects. Craving for becoming means the desire for the formation of states or realms of being that are not currently happening, while craving for non-becoming means the desire for the destruction or halting of any that are. "Passion and delight," here, is apparently a synonym for the "desire and passion" for the five aggregates that constitutes clinging/sustenance [III/H/ii].

The Pali term 'upadana' (literally 'fuel') is the word that's generally translated as 'addiction,' 'attachment' or 'clinging,' and it can also mean 'the act of taking sustenance' (which is why clinging is often described as the 'feeding habits of the mind'). In MN 9, it states:

And what is clinging, what is the origin of clinging, what is the cessation of clinging, what is the way leading to the cessation of clinging? There are these four kinds of clinging: clinging to sensual pleasures, clinging to views, clinging to rituals and observances, and clinging to a doctrine of self. With the arising of craving, there is the arising of clinging. With the cessation of craving, there is the cessation of clinging. The way leading to the cessation of clinging is just this Noble Eightfold Path; that is, right view... right concentration.

Much like the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, who, we're told in Plato's dialogue Cratylus, held that "all things flow and nothing stands" (401d), the Buddha observed the characteristic of impermanence that's inherent to all conditional things as well. In Buddhist philosophy, all things that are conditional, or in other words all things that arise from causes and conditions, are seen to be impermanent, subject to cessation, to dissolution. In the discourses of the Buddha that are preserved in the Pali Canon, this idea is presented in numerous ways, with the basic formula being, "Whatever is subject to arising is all subject to cessation" (SN 56.11). Everything in this world is in a state of flux, i.e., nothing in this world remains unchanging, and it's precisely because of this characteristic of existence that attachment gives rise to suffering.

To begin with, what is attachment? Attachment involves clinging to some object of sensory contact (forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile sensations or ideas) due to some degree of gratification and pleasure derived from that object. When pleasant feelings arise, our initial reaction is to grasp at that pleasure and cling to whatever it is that happens to give rise to such pleasant feelings. Therefore, with the presence of attachment, the object of contact along with the corresponding feeling associated with that contact becomes essential to our experience of happiness.

How, then, does attachment give rise to suffering? The Pali word 'dukkha,' often translated as 'suffering,' is philosophically complex. The Buddha detailed three types of suffering, one of which is called 'viparinama-dukkha'—the suffering that results from change. Suffering of this kind arises when either the object of contact or the pleasant feelings that arise changes in some way, whereby the gratification and happiness that's dependent upon those conditions ceases, thus giving rise to unhappiness. Hence, separation from that which makes us happy is suffering.

This particular form of suffering isn't as obvious as the suffering experienced in the form of physical pain, but it's a sense of sorrow that one experiences when the moments of happiness, moments of sensual gratification and pleasure, fail to last. Therefore, unlike the unhappiness that arises when we experience something unpleasant, the suffering that results from change arises because a particular form of gratification and pleasure that we've become accustomed to producing an emotional state of happiness fades away.

The way I see it, the human organism is a complex assortment of mental and physical processes, and since one of the underlying motivations behind our actions is the desire for happiness and pleasure, it's no wonder that the ever-changing circumstances in life are sometimes so hard for us to bear. But most people have trouble understanding the teachings on clinging from a Buddhist standpoint. People often take it to mean that they should give up everything completely—that all possessions, relationships, likes, dislikes, etc. must be discarded. That's not a correct understanding of this concept, however. How can you discard a feeling for example? Is it any more possible to get rid of your brain? Ha, imagine that! No, to truly become free of 'clinging' we need to understand the mental process itself, not throw away all of our belongings.

Clinging in this context is basically when our sense of self (our ego or sense of identity if you prefer) creates the illusion of need through its craving (i.e., want or desire to the Nth degree). In the simplest of terms, clinging is our security blanket in life. Anything that comforts, protects or gives rise to a continuation of the our sense of self is a security blanket, and the mind and body use many things effectively for this purpose.

There's rarely a moment when the mind isn't clinging to this or that in one or more of the four ways (MN 11). Our identity jumps from one thing to another, wherever the clinging is strongest. Our sense of self is something that's always in flux, ever-changing from moment to moment in response to various internal and external stimuli, and yet at the same time, we tend to see it as a static thing. It's as if our sense of self desires permanence, but its very nature causes it to change every second! As the Buddha warns in SN 12.61:

"It would be better for the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person to hold to the body composed of the four great elements, rather than the mind, as the self. Why is that? Because this body composed of the four great elements is seen standing for a year, two years, three, four, five, ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, a hundred years or more. But what's called 'mind,' 'intellect,' or 'consciousness' by day and by night arises as one thing and ceases as another. Just as a monkey, swinging through a forest wilderness, grabs a branch. Letting go of it, it grabs another branch. Letting go of that, it grabs another one. Letting go of that, it grabs another one. In the same way, what's called 'mind,' 'intellect,' or 'consciousness' by day and by night arises as one thing and ceases as another.

Change is, of course, a fact of nature. All things are in a perpetual state of change, but the problem is that our sense of self ignores this reality on a certain level. From birth to death, we have the tendency to think that this 'I' remains the same. Now, we might know that some things have changed (e.g., our likes and dislikes, our age, the amount of wrinkles we have, etc.), but we still feel as if we're still 'us.' We have the illusion (for lack of a better word) that our identity is who we are, a static entity named [fill in the blank], and we tend to perceive this as being the same throughout our lives.

For example, we cling to our names. "I am Jason." Nevertheless, if we hear a name that we like better, a nickname perhaps, we'll cling to that. We may even get angry if someone calls us by a different name. "I'm not James, I'm Jason!" It's clinging that gives rise to this sense of ownership, this sense of 'mine.' With the presence of clinging, our mind is like one of those horrid glue traps for rats. Whatever gets stuck in there becomes a part of it, even though they're truly two separate things. (Just as we can 'feel' and yet our feelings are not 'us.')

That said, the conventional use of personality is a function of survival, as well as convenience. However, clinging to our personalities as 'me' or 'mine' is seen as giving continued fuel for becoming (bhava), i.e., a mental process of taking on a particular kind of identity that arises out of clinging. Our sense of self, the ephemeral 'I,' is merely a mental imputation — the product of what the Buddha called a process of 'I-making' and 'my-making' — and when we cling to our sense of self as being 'me' or 'mine' in some way, we're clinging to an impermanent representation of something that we've deluded ourselves into thinking is fixed and stable. It becomes a sort of false refuge that's none of these things.

So from a Buddhist perspective, all of this clinging is unhealthy for our mind. The weight of all these things we pick up internally creates huge burdens, burdens which we then must carry around with us. They oppress our heart, they cloud our judgment and they cause us suffering.

Conversely, meditation and contemplation are seen as excellent methods for developing insight into this mental process. From the Buddhist point of view, we're basically slaves to our craving, and mindfulness is our best weapon. Constant attention and awareness of these things is said to help shed light into the dark corners of our mind. Meditation allows us to see these mental processes in action, and once we begin to see the potential stress and danger that's hidden within the process of clinging, we become less passionate about it. We remove its appeal and cease to be blind to our predicament. Dispassion is then said to lead to relinquishment — to the complete letting go of our craving — thereby ending our mental addictions and enabling us to enjoy life with a truly free heart.

At least that's what I make out of it.

violence

I'm often puzzled when people try to blame the violent behaviour of so-called Buddhists on Buddhism itself. While there have certainly been cases where Buddhists have attempted to legitimize their violent behavior, such as many Japanese Buddhists during WWII, an objective look at the Buddha's discourses in the Pali Canon shows that there's absolutely no scriptural basis for violence or violent behavior whatsoever; and most of the justifications for the use of violence by predominately Buddhist countries are either secular in nature or influenced by ideas foreign to Buddhism proper.

Buddhism, as with Jainism, is founded on the principle of ahimsa or harmlessness and nonviolence. The Buddha never condoned acts of aggression or violence, going so far as to lay down rules expelling monks and nuns who even spoke in favour of killing. For example, from the Vinita Vatthu:

A bhikkhu advises an executioner to kill his victims mercifully with a single blow, rather than torturing them. The executioner follows his advice, and the bhikkhu incurs a parajika [i.e., 'defeat,' expelled from the Sangha]. This judgment indicates that a bhikkhu should not involve himself in matters of this sort, no matter how humane his intentions.

Another example of the his teachings on nonviolence from the discourses can be found MN 21; although, in context, it's an exaggerated example used to illustrate the correct way to develop patience and maintain the five aspects of right speech even under trying conditions:

Monks, even if bandits were to carve you up savagely, limb by limb, with a two-handled saw, he among you who let his heart get angered even at that would not be doing my bidding. Even then you should train yourselves: 'Our minds will be unaffected and we will say no evil words. We will remain sympathetic, with a mind of good will, and with no inner hate. We will keep pervading these people with an awareness imbued with good will and, beginning with them, we will keep pervading the all-encompassing world with an awareness imbued with good will — abundant, expansive, immeasurable, free from hostility, free from ill will.' That's how you should train yourselves.

And then there's this famous passage from the Dhammapada:

All tremble at violence; all fear death. Putting oneself in the place of another, one should not kill nor cause another to kill.

All tremble at violence; life is dear to all. Putting oneself in the place of another, one should not kill nor cause another to kill.

Of course, being human, 'Buddhists' are just as likely to commit acts of violence as anyone else; but I don't think their violent acts can be attributed to the Buddha's teachings or to Buddhism in general, and much of the collective use of violence by Buddhists hasn't historically been religiously motivated.

The recent war in Sri Lanka, for example, was an ethnic civil war between the predominately Sinhalese government and a predominately Tamil separatist militant organization. This was a conflict that had its roots in the British colonization of Sri Lanka (Ceylon) and their importation of Tamil labourers from southern India to work in tea, coffee and coconut plantations (see Sri Lanka time line).

In regards to the corrupt military junta that rules Burma (Myanmar) with an iron fist, many of which are nominally Buddhist, none of their actions can be traced to the Buddha's teachings; it's all about holding political power at all cost. Moreover, it's been the Buddhist monks in Burma who have actually lead the largest nonviolent protests against the brutal and corrupt regime to date (see Saffron Revolution).

As for the abuse of Burmese refugees by Thai authorities, there's simply no excuse for that, but I think it stems more from Thailand's fears of Burma's military and their reliance on shared gas pipelines than anything else. The Thai authorities simply don't want to do anything that might antagonize Burma's ruling junta, which is a shame since this lack of compassion is directly opposed to the Buddha's teachings.

In the case of the Japanese Buddhists during WWII, much of their pro-nationalistic and pro-militaristic stance was influence by Japan's samurai warrior culture, which, taking elements of their native Shinto religion and Zen, and combining them with bushido (way of the warrior), lead to a religious philosophy that was able to justify (and even glorify) the use of violence.

That said, it's often assumed that Buddhists must be strict pacifists. But the Buddha never forbade kings or soldiers, even those actively engaged in warfare, from becoming lay-followers, so it certainly wasn't a requirement (although he certainly didn't approve of their actions, either). He also didn't say that one shouldn't defend oneself when necessary. Buddhism is nothing if not pragmatic, and it's understood that we're potentially going to be confronted with situations where we may feel the need to, or automatically react with, some level of violence and force. That's one reason there's no offense for a monk who, "trapped in a difficult situation, gives a blow 'desiring freedom'" (Pc74).

Nevertheless, pacifism as a baseline for conduct is definitely inline with the first precept and the principle of harmlessness. In fact, I think Thanissaro Bhikkhu makes a pretty good case for this in his essay "Getting the Message." Matthew Kosuta also makes a good case for this in his paper, "The Buddha and the Four-Limbed Army: The Military in the Pali Canon."

does the tathagata exist after death?

If you were to ask the Buddha whether the Tathagata [a synonym for 'arahant' and an epithet for the Buddha] exists after death, doesn't exist after death, both exists and doesn't exist after death or neither exists nor doesn't exist after death, the Buddha would answer, "That has not been declared by me."

When pressed further, the Buddha would counter by asking you whether form, feeling, perception, mental fabrications and consciousness are constant or inconstant. If you were to answer constant to any of these, he'd probably proceed to give you a discourse on the aggregates and dependent co-arising. If you were to answer inconstant, then he'd ask you whether it's proper to regard what's inconstant, stressful and subject to change as: "This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am."

If you were to answer yes, he'd probably proceed to give you a discourse on the not-self characteristic. If you were to answer no, then he would ask whether you regard form, feeling, perception, mental fabrications or consciousness as the Tathagata.

If you were to answer yes to any of these, he'd remind you that all these phenomena are inconstant and not fit to be called 'me' or 'mine.' If you were to answer no, then he'd ask whether you regard the Tathagata as being in form, feeling, perception, mental fabrications and consciousness, or elsewhere than form, feeling, perception, mental fabrications or consciousness.

If you were to answer yes to any of these, he'd remind you that all these phenomena are inconstant and not fit to be called 'me' or 'mine.' If you were to answer no, then he'd ask whether you regard the Tathagata as form-feeling-perception-fabrications-consciousness [i.e., taken together], or as that which is without form, without feeling, without perception, without fabrications, without consciousness [i.e., without any relation to the aggregates, and by consequence, the sense bases].

If you were to answer yes to the former, he'd remind you that these phenomena are inconstant and not fit to be called 'me' or 'mine.' If you were to answer yes to the latter, he'd probably ask you on what basis you'd make such an assertion since the description of such a self lies beyond the range of explanation. If you were to answer no, then he'd say, "So, my friend — when you can't pin down the Tathagata as a truth or reality even in the present life — is it proper for you to declare, 'The Tathagata exists after death', 'The Tathagata does not exist after death', 'The Tathagata both exists and does not exist after death' or 'The Tathagata neither exists nor does not exist after death'," and proceed to give a discourse such as this:

"In the same way, an uninstructed, run-of-the-mill person — who has no regard for noble ones, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma; who has no regard for men of integrity, is not well-versed or disciplined in their Dhamma — assumes form (the body) to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.

"He assumes feeling to be the self...

"He assumes perception to be the self...

"He assumes (mental) fabrications to be the self...

"He assumes consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.

"He does not discern inconstant form, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant form.' He does not discern inconstant feeling, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant feeling.' He does not discern inconstant perception... He does not discern inconstant fabrications... He does not discern inconstant consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant consciousness.'

"He does not discern stressful form, as it actually is present, as 'stressful form.' He does not discern stressful feeling... He does not discern stressful perception... He does not discern stressful fabrications... He does not discern stressful consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'stressful consciousness.'

"He does not discern not-self form, as it actually is present, as 'not-self form.' He does not discern not-self feeling... He does not discern not-self perception... He does not discern not-self fabrications... He does not discern not-self consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'not-self consciousness.'

"He does not discern fabricated form, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated form.' He does not discern fabricated feeling... He does not discern fabricated perception... He does not discern fabricated fabrications... He does not discern fabricated consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated consciousness.'

"He does not discern murderous form, as it actually is present, as 'murderous form.' He does not discern murderous feeling... He does not discern murderous perception... He does not discern murderous fabrications... He does not discern murderous consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'murderous consciousness.'

"He gets attached to form, clings to form, & determines it to be 'my self.' He gets attached to feeling... He gets attached to perception... He gets attached to fabrications... He gets attached to consciousness, clings to consciousness, & determines it to be 'my self.' These five clinging-aggregates — attached to, clung to — lead to his long-term loss & suffering.

"Now, the well-instructed, disciple of the noble ones — who has regard for noble ones, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma; who has regard for men of integrity, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma — does not assume form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form.

"He does not assume feeling to be the self...

"He does not assume perception to be the self...

"He does not assume fabrications to be the self...

"He does not assume consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness.

"He discerns inconstant form, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant form.' He discerns inconstant feeling... He discerns inconstant perception... He discerns inconstant fabrications... He discerns inconstant consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'inconstant consciousness.'

"He discerns stressful form, as it actually is present, as 'stressful form.' He discerns stressful feeling... He discerns stressful perception... He discerns stressful fabrications... He discerns stressful consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'stressful consciousness.'

"He discerns not-self form, as it actually is present, as 'not-self form.' He discerns not-self feeling... He discerns not-self perception... He discerns not-self fabrications... He discerns not-self consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'not-self consciousness.'

"He discerns fabricated form, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated form.' He discerns fabricated feeling... He discerns fabricated perception... He discerns fabricated fabrications... He discerns fabricated consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'fabricated consciousness.'

"He discerns murderous form, as it actually is present, as 'murderous form.' He discerns murderous feeling... He discerns murderous perception... He discerns murderous fabrications... He discerns murderous consciousness, as it actually is present, as 'murderous consciousness.'

"He does not get attached to form, does not cling to form, does not determine it to be 'my self.' He does not get attached to feeling... He does not get attached to perception... He does not get attached to fabrications... He does not get attached to consciousness, does not cling to consciousness, does not determine it to be 'my self.' These five clinging-aggregates — not attached to, not clung to — lead to his long-term happiness & well-being."

Karmastotle

In reading these three articles by Ken McLeod: Karma, Karma and Growth and Karma Doesn't Explain Anything, I find it interesting how he seems to compare karma to Aristotle's ideas regarding phusis (physics or nature in the ancient Greek sense) and kinesis (motion or growth), even going so far as to utilize the same acorn/oak analogy used to illustrate the distinction between potentiality (matter) and actuality (form) in Metaphysics.

life is suffering

It's often said that Buddhism is a pessimistic religion in that it teaches life is nothing but suffering (i.e., suffering is the only true reality) and denies any kind of happiness or joy. While a common enough criticism, I think it's not only unfair but completely untrue.

For starters, when people say that Buddhism teaches 'life is suffering,' this is mostly likely referring to a misunderstanding of the Pali phrase, "Sabbe pi dukkham" (All is dukkha).

The first noble truth states that, in short, the five clinging-aggregate (panca-upadana-khandha) are dukkha (SN 56.11), i.e., it's the clinging in reference to the aggregates that's dukkha, not the aggregates themselves.

In SN 35.23, the Buddha defines 'the all' (sabbam) as the eye and forms, ear and sounds, nose and aromas, tongue and flavours, body and tactile sensations and intellect and ideas. According to the commentaries, dukkha is defined as 'that which is hard to bear.'

Moreover, in SN 35.24, the Buddha defines 'the all' as a phenomenon to be abandoned [via the abandonment of greed/passion (raga) in regard to the six sense media]. Without the presence of greed/passion in regard to the six sense-media, they are no longer 'difficult to bear.' This is a far cry from the blanket statement 'life is suffering.'

As for the claim that Buddhism denies happiness, the suttas are full of references to various forms of bliss, joy, pleasure, rapture, etc., especially in relation to various states of meditative absorption (jhana).

In AN 5.28, for example, the pleasure (sukha) and rapture (piti) experienced in first jhana is said to be "born from withdrawal [from the hindrances], accompanied by directed thought and evaluation." In the second jhana, a more refined form of pleasure and rapture is said to be "born of composure, unification of awareness free from directed thought and evaluation."

Then there's the "pleasant abiding" of the third jhana where one "permeates and pervades, suffuses and fills this very body with the pleasure divested of rapture, so that there is nothing of his entire body unpervaded with pleasure divested of rapture," and the fourth where one sits "permeating the body with a pure, bright awareness, so that there is nothing of his entire body unpervaded by pure, bright awareness."

Additionally, in AN 4.62, there's mention of "four kinds of bliss" that can be attained by a householder "partaking of sensuality" (i.e., indulging in a non-contemplative lifestyle): the bliss of having, the bliss of wealth, the bliss of debtlessness and the bliss of blamelessness.

And of course, there's nibbana, "the highest bliss" (Dhp 204).

Far from being a joyless path, Buddhism embraces pleasure and happiness. But the type of pleasure the Buddha advocates is one that doesn't come at the expense of, or place any burdens upon, others.

the buddha's omniscience

Omniscience seems to be a common theme throughout religion. Besides the most obvious case, the omniscience of God, various faiths have also claimed to have had earthly founders who were omniscient as well. The Jain founder, Mahavira, for example, is said to have been omniscient. The Buddha, a contemporary of Mahavira, is also said to have been omniscient, but is this a claim that holds any truth? Textually speaking, I think the evidence for the Buddha's omniscience, as it's generally understood by traditional Buddhists at least, is shaky at best, and there appears to be a fair amount of evidence suggesting that this was actually a later invention/exaggeration.

In SN 54.9, for example, the Buddha gives a talk to a group of monks praising foulness of the body meditation, a method in which one contemplates the body in a way that reduces attachment to the body and counteracts lust (a helpful tool for celibate monastics). After the talk, the Buddha goes into seclusion for half a month. While away, the monks practice meditating on the foulness of the body, but being repelled and disgusted with the body, many of them end up committing suicide or hiring assailants to kill them. Upon returning, the Buddha asks Ananda why the Sangha looks so diminished. Ananda explains the situation and then asks the Buddha to give them another meditation method, which ends up being mindfulness of breathing.

If the Buddha was indeed omniscient, it seems surprising that he'd have had to ask Ananda what happened. This is especially true considering that Mahavira, who's referred to as Nigantha Nataputta in the Pali Canon, is apparently ridiculed by Ananda in MN 76 for going to an empty house for alms, having to ask for directions, etc. In fact, it's surprising that the Buddha didn't simply give them a talk on mindfulness of breathing in the first place in order to avoid such a thing from even happening. The 'orthodox' position that's supported by the commentaries, however, states that the Buddha already knew this was going to happen and basically played dumb.

The story given is that these monks were hunters in a past life that were reborn in hell, but due to some wholesome kamma, they eventually gained rebirth in the human realm and became renouncers under the Buddha. Knowing that a portion of their original unwholesome kamma was about to ripen, bringing about their deaths via homicide and suicide, and that there was nothing he could do to prevent this, the Buddha spoke of the foulness of the body in order to help remove their attachment to the body so that they would lose their fear of death. Sounds like bullshit to me. Bhikkhu Bodhi even admits that "... the idea of kammically predetermined suicide seems difficult to reconcile with the concept of suicide as a volitionally induced act" (1951-52).

Furthermore, in MN 71, the Buddha rejects the assertion that he claims to be 'omniscient and all-seeing' (or alternately 'all-knowing and all-seeing'). He says, "... those who say thus do not say what has been said by me, but misrepresent me with what is untrue and contrary to fact" (Bodhi), but the commentary states that all knowable things are potentially accessible to him. The issue, of course, is whether the Buddha is rejecting the claim that he's omniscient in the sense that all things are knowable to him at all times without interruption (i.e., that he is omniscient in the sense that all knowable things are potentially accessible to him) or whether he is simply rejecting the claim altogether.

There are suttas that supposedly support the commentarial position regarding the Buddha's omniscience. As Bhikkhu Bodhi notes, "At MN 90.8, the Buddha says that it is possible to know and see all, though not simultaneously, and at AN 4:24/ii.24 he claims to know all that can be seen, heard, sensed, and cognized. This is understood by the Theravada commentators as an assertion of omniscience in the qualified sense" (1276). But, I fail to see how MN 90.8 affirms this possibility. The Buddha does state that it's not possible for a recluse or brahmin to know and see all simultaneously, but he never explicitly asserts his own omniscience, and I've since found that many modern scholars share this view.

One example, from Edward Thomas in History of Buddhist Thought, states:

Already the Jains claimed omniscience for their leader. They are said to have held that he was "omniscient, all-seeing, and possessed complete knowledge and insight; that whether walking or standing, asleep or awake, knowledge and insight were continually present". This claim is ridiculed by the Buddhists, and the omniscient teacher is described as so ignorant that he goes for alms to a house not knowing that it is empty, or as having to ask his way to a village. Buddha is represented as denying that he claims such omniscience. What he claims is the three knowledges, (1) that he remembers numberless past existences, as far back as he wishes, (2) that with his divine eye he can see beings passing away and being reborn according to their karma, (3) that with the destruction of the asavas he has of himself attained and realized release of mind and knowledge in this life and abides in it. (148)

Another example, from David Kalupahana in A History of Buddhist Philosophy, states:

The terms sabbannu, sabbavidu ("all-knowing") and sabbadassavi ("all-perceiving") occur in the early discourses. The general tendency among modern interpreters of Buddhism is to assume that this is a knowledge-claim comparable to the "omniscience" claimed by Mahavira or in the theistic tradition, where it is attributed to divinity. Although the Buddha disclaimed such knowledge in the Tevijja-Vacchagotta-sutta, insisting that he possessed only the threefold higher knowledge ... scholars are more inclined to interpret the last, namely, wisdom (panna), as "omniscience." It is true that some of the later Buddhist metaphysicians like the Sarvastivadins propounded ideas that can serve as a basis for such knowledge-claims. Modern interpreters therefore attempt to attribute these ideas to the Buddha himself despite a mass of evidence against doing so.

To understand what the Buddha meant by "all-knowing" or "all-perceiving," it is first necessary to analyze the use of the term "all" (sabbam) in the early discourses. Interestingly, an important discourse relating specially to this problem is attributed to the Buddha:

Thus have I heard. Once the Fortunate One was living at Savatthi, in the monastery of Anathapindindika, [situated] in the Jeta's Grove. Then the Fortunate One addressed the monks: "O, monks!" They responded: "Yes, O Venerable One!" and the Fortunate One spoke thus: "Monks, I will preach to you 'everything.' Listen to it. Listen to it. What, monks, is 'everything'? Eye and material form, ear and sound, nose and odor, tongue and taste, body and touch, mind and concepts. These are called 'everything.' Monks, he who would say, 'I will reject this everything and proclaim another everything,' he may certainly have a theory [of his own]. But when questioned, he would not be able to answer and would, moreover, be subject to vexation. Why? Because it would not be within the range of experience."

This discourse makes the Buddha's position abundantly clear. For the Buddha, "all" or "everything" represented the subject defined in terms of the six senses and the object explained in terms of the six sense objects. However, to be "omniscient" it is necessary that one knows everything, not only of the past and present but also of the future. It is possible to claim that the obvious past and future can be known directly if one can perceive the essence of everything. That essence being permanent and eternal, one glimpse of it at any point would mean knowledge of everything. This is certainly how the Buddhist school of Sarvastivadins attempted to justify omniscience, but such a view cannot be attributed to the Buddha. Not only did he refuse to recognize knowledge of such an essence or substance as existing in the future, he also claimed that he failed to perceive any such entity surviving in the immediate past or in the present.

This is the implication of a disciple's statement: Na tuyham adittham asutam amutam va ato avinnatam kincanam atthi loke. This statement is sometimes interpreted as "You are omniscient," that is, "There is nothing that you have not seen, heard or conceived." This is an extremely superficial and reckless rendering of an important statement. The statement is to be understood in light of the definition of an "enlightened one" in the early Buddhist context. In fact, the term akincana, "one who does not look for something" (kinci; other than what is given in sensory experience, a la discourse on "everything" quoted above), is used to refer to the enlightened one. Hence, the above statement in Pali is more appropriately rendered as: "You do not have (or recognize) something (na kincana) that is not seen, heard, conceived or cognized in this world," which would be a negation rather than an assertion of the very metaphysics that serve as the basis for "omniscience." This idea was highlighted centuries later by the famous Buddhist philosopher Nagarjuna (see Chapter XVI). (43-4)

In my opinion, the idea of the Buddha being an omniscient superman evolved over time, beginning not long after his death or possibly even while he was still alive, although Theravada was relatively conservative in this transformation compared to some of the other Buddhist traditions. An examination of the textual evidence suggests that some later traditions attempted to transform the Buddha into a transcendent being, and eventually, an emanation of the supramundane Buddha. This process can be traced, beginning with such works as the Mahavastu, and continuing on through works such as the Lalitavistara and the Saddharmapundarikasutra. Nevertheless, I believe that a similar scenario occurred in Theravada, albeit on a much smaller scale, and the Buddha was attributed with qualities that he himself rejected, or at the very least, qualities that were exaggerated.

For what it's worth, I think it's possible the Buddha might have known all and saw all when it came to suffering, the cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path leading to the end of suffering (which is impressive enough); but, to be honest, I have a hard time believing that the Buddha knew all and saw all in the biblical sense, and I see little evidence to suggest that he did. Hence my personal opinion that a healthy dose of skepticism is in order when reading the Pali Canon, or any other Buddhist literature for that matter.

vinnanam anidassanam, thanissaro vs. orthodoxy

For anybody who might be interested, here's my understanding of the debate within Theravada, especially between Thanissaro Bhikkhu and what some consider Theravadin orthodoxy, surrounding the Pali term vinnanam anidassanam (consciousness without feature):

In terms of the aggregate of consciousness (vinnana-khandha), it's clear that consciousness is a dependently existing phenomena. Sensory consciousness can only arise with the presence of the appropriate sense organ and its corresponding object of reference. The process of seeing, for example, is described as a conditional process where "dependent on eye and visible forms, eye-consciousness arises" (SN 12.43). Without the presence of the appropriate sense organ (e.g., the eye) or the corresponding object of reference (e.g., rock), sensory-consciousness (e.g., eye-consciousness) can't arise. So none of the six forms of sensory consciousness can stand on its own without the corresponding stimulus to make it manifest or arise.

Nevertheless, there are a couple of sutta passages that seem to suggest there's a form of consciousness that doesn't come under the aggregate of consciousness. For example, Thanissaro Bhikkhu states in a note to his translation of MN 109:

One form of consciousness apparently does not come under the aggregate of consciousness. This type of consciousness is termed vinnanam anidassanam — consciousness without a surface, or consciousness without feature. MN 49 says specifically that this consciousness does not partake of the "allness of the all," the "all" being conterminous with the five aggregates. The standard definition of the aggregate of consciousness states that this aggregate includes all consciousness, "past, present, or future... near or far." However, because vinnanam anidassanam stands outside of space and time it would not be covered by these terms. Similarly, where SN 22.97 says that no consciousness is eternal, "eternal" is a concept that applies only within the dimension of time, and thus would not apply to this form of consciousness.

There are those in academia who also acknowledge this possibility. Peter Harvey, professor of Buddhist Studies at the University of Sunderland, writes in his Introduction to Buddhism:

Nevertheless, certain passages in the Suttas hint that Nibbana may be a radically transformed state of consciousness (vinnana):

The consciousness in which nothing can be made manifest (like space), endless, accessible from all sides (or: wholly radiant):
Here it is that solidity, cohesion, heat and motion have no footing,
Here long and short, coarse and fine, foul and lovely (have no footing),
Here it is that mind (nama) and body (rupa) stop without remainder:
By the stopping of consciousness, (all) this stops here. (D.I.223)

Like Ud.80, above, this describes a state beyond the four physical elements, where mind-and-body are transcended. As the heart of Conditioned Arising is the mutual conditioning of consciousness and mind-and-body, this state is where this interaction ceases: from the stopping of consciousness, mind-and-body stops. Consciousness is not non-existent when it stops, however; for it is said to be non-manifestive and endless. One passage on the stopping (nirodha) of the nidana of consciousness (S.III.54-5) says that there is no longer any object (arammana) or support (patittha) for consciousness; consciousness is thus 'unsupported' (apatitthita) and free of constructing activities, so that it is released, steadfast, content, undisturbed, and attains Nibbana. This description, of a 'stopped' consciousness which is unsupported by any mental object, where mind-and-body are transcended, seems to accord well with the Ud.80 description of Nibbana itself.

To say that Nibbana is unconditioned, objectless consciousness indicates something of its nature, but it does not penetrate far into its mystery. For it seems impossible to imagine what awareness devoid of any object would be like. As regards the 'stopping' of mind-and-body, as a state occurring during life, this is perhaps to be understood as one where all mental processes (including ordinary consciousness) temporarily cease, and the matter of the body is seen as so ephemeral as not to signify a 'body'. A passage at M. I.329-30 which parallels D.I.223 says that the non-manifestive consciousness 'is not reached by the solidness of solidity, by the cohesiveness of cohesion...'. The analysis of Nibbana as objectless consciousness, though, is the author's own interpretation. Theravadin tradition sees Nibbana as 'objectless' (Dhs.I408), but regards 'consciousness' as always having an object. D.I.223 is thus interpreted as concerning Nibbana as to-be-known-by-consciousness: Nibbana is itself the object of the Arahat's consciousness (Pati.II.I43-5).

While the view that there's a type of consciousness that lies outside of space and time, and therefore, outside the consciousness-aggregate altogether, isn't a view that's supported by the 'classical' Theravada Tradition in which the entire Tipitaka and its commentaries are considered authoritative, the imagery of consciousness that "does not land or increase" mentioned in SN 12.64 does seem to support such a possibility, even if some might say that comparing this imagery of consciousness to the consciousness of nibbana is taking it out of context. At least I think so.

The commentaries, on the other hand, gloss the term vinnanam anidassanam in a way that denies such a possibility. Using the Kevatta Sutta (DN 11), for example, Suan Lu Zaw, a Burmese lay-teacher of Pali and Abhidhamma, explains that according the the Kevatta Sutta Atthakatha [DN 11 commentary], vinnanam doesn't refer to the usual meaning of 'consciousness' here, but instead defines it as, "There, to be known specifically, so (it is) 'vinnanam'. This is the name of Nibbana." He also explains that the following line of DN 11, "Here (in Nibbana), nama as well as rupa cease without remainder. By ceasing of consciousness, nama as well as rupa ceases here" illustrates this point. He states that, "Nibbana does not become a sort of consciousness just because one of the Pali names happens to be vinnanam."

He concludes by using a quote from a section of the Dhammapada Attakatha [Dhammapada commentary], which apparently states that there's no consciousness component in parinibbana after the death of an arahant. This, of course, is in direct contrast to Thanissaro Bhikkhu's note to this particular sutta.

Basically, what this controversy seems to boil down to is the experience of nibbana and the nature of that experience, especially after death. The general tendency is to either describe nibbana as the ending of all consciousness, all awareness, or in other words, to stress the cessation aspect of nibbana, or to describe nibbana as a state of purified awareness, 'consciousness without feature,' or in other words, to stress the transcendent aspect of nibbana. The 'classical' Theravada Tradition favours the former view of nibbana while others, especially some within the Thai Forest Tradition, favour the latter.

As I mentioned in another post, I used to lean towards the classical position that all consciousness ceases at death, and then I tended to lean more towards the view that there may be a type of consciousness that lies outside of space and time. The imagery of consciousness that "does not land or increase" mentioned in SN 12.64 does seem to support such a possibility, as do various other passages throughout the Canon. And while many assume nibbana to be equivalent to a state of nonexistence, a state of nothingness, Bhikkhu Bodhi points out in In the Buddha's Words: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon that, "… no text in the Nikayas ever states this. To the contrary, the Nikayas consistently refer to Nibbana by terms that refer to actualities. It is an element (dhatu), a base (ayatana), a reality (dhamma), a state (pada), and so on" (319).

Lately, however, I've been content with viewing nibbana as the extinguishing of greed, hatred and delusion (SN 38.1), and consciousness without feature as the living arahant's consciousness devoid of defilements and non-attached to any phenomena whatsoever, and leaving it at that. In fact, I think Bhikkhu Nanananda sums up this perspective well in "Nibbana Sermon 07":

Now viññāṇaṃ anidassanaṃ is a reference to the nature of the released consciousness of an arahant. It does not reflect anything. To be more precise, it does not reflect a nāma-rūpa, or name-and-form. An ordinary individual sees a nāma-rūpa, when he reflects, which he calls 'I' and 'mine'. It is like the reflection of that dog, which sees its own delusive reflection in the water. A non-arahant, upon reflection, sees name-and-form, which however he mistakes to be his self. With the notion of 'I' and 'mine' he falls into delusion with regard to it. But the arahant's consciousness is an unestablished consciousness.

We have already mentioned in previous sermons about the established consciousness and the unestablished consciousness.[ix] A non-arahant's consciousness is established on name-and-form. The unestablished consciousness is that which is free from name-and-form and is unestablished on name-and-form. The established consciousness, upon reflection, reflects name-and-form, on which it is established, whereas the unestablished consciousness does not find a name-and-form as a reality. The arahant has no attachments or entanglements in regard to name-and-form. In short, it is a sort of penetration of name-and-form, without getting entangled in it. This is how we have to unravel the meaning of the expression anidassana viññāṇa.