Sunday, December 26, 2010

the agganna sutta

I've been having a rather interesting discussion with some members at dhammawheel.com about the Agganna Sutta of the Digha Nikaya lately, mostly stemming from something I wrote about a month ago:

As for DN 27, the Buddha tells a story about the beginning of life on this world to two brahmins which, in the end, was used to illustrate how the way to liberation is beyond caste and lineage. So, in this regard, the Buddha does give what can be interpreted as a rough theory of evolution to the pair of brahmins in that the physical characteristics of the mythological beings in question change due to environmental changes and interactions, as well as a description the universe somewhat akin to the oscillating universe theory.

I think that, when taken literally, the creation myth in DN 27 can be seen as an attempt to give a naturalistic explanation of the origins of life and the universe, and Darwin's fairly well-proven theory of evolution certainly isn't inconsistent with this, which makes many new Buddhists breath a sigh of relief. That being said, I agree with Prof. Gombrich that, taking the context of DN 27 into account, this sutta is a lively and ingenious parody that's actually meant to make fun of the very need for a cosmology as a foundation for religious development (How Buddhism Began: The Conditioned Genesis of the Early Teachings, pg. 81-82).

Personally, I see Buddhism as dealing exclusively with mental stress and its cessation (i.e., psychology), not biology, or physics, etc. And while some people get excited when they discover that Buddhism contains teachings which seem to be in accord with modern science, I think they can often be misleading and shouldn't be taken too seriously, or at least, too literally. I think this is especially true of DN 27 considering that recent observations of cosmic background radiation indicate the universe is actually expanding at an accelerated rate, hence there may not be any contraction or 'Big Crunch.' (Lawrence Krauss mentions this in his talk at the 2009 AAI Conference; although it should also be noted that Roger Penrose recently challenged the commonly-held 'inflationary theory' of cosmology with his suggestion that analysis of cosmic microwave background shows echoes of previous Big Bang-like events.)


There have been some valid and thought-provoking criticisms of what I've written above. One thing that was brought up by yuttadhammo is that, "This argument assumes that the word 'sa.mva.t.tati' in the Agganna Sutta means 'contracts', which it doesn't." This criticism is mainly levelled against Bhikkhu Bodhi's translation of DN 27, however, which reads:

There comes a time, Vasettha, when, sooner or later after a long period, this world contracts. At the time of contraction, beings are mostly born in the Abhassara Brahma world. And there they dwell, mind-made, feeding on delight, self-luminous, moving through the air, glorious—and they stay like that for a very long time. But sooner or later, after a very long period, this world begins to expand again. At a time of expansion the beings from the Abhassara Brahma world, having passed away from there, are mostly reborn in this world. Here they dwell, mind-made, feeding on delight, self-luminous, moving through the air, glorious—and they stay like that for a very long time.


Having a look at the Pali myself, the words translated here as 'contraction' and 'expansion' are samvattati and vivattati respectively. I agree with Phra Noah that 'contraction' and 'expansion' aren't generally the best translations, ('dissolve' and 'evolve' might be better), and I'm not sure why Bhikkhu Bodhi translates them this way. Perhaps it's due to something in the commentarial literature, or maybe he simply thought it was more appropriate given the overall context. Either way, I think this is something that merits further discussion.

Another good point was made in the same thread by son of dhamma, who said, "I don't consider that the world being talked about in the Agganna Sutta is 'the universe'. In fact I don't see why anyone would have this notion after considering the context." Taking another look at the Pali, I'm inclined to agree.

Since the Buddha uses the word loko or 'world,' which is often used as a metaphor for the six sense spheres, I agree that given the context, 'the world' being referenced is most likely not the universe but the world of sensory experience, which, incidentally, makes me even more convinced that this sutta is a lively and ingenious parody that's actually meant to make fun of the very need for a cosmology as a foundation for religious development. However, it should be noted that according to Nyanatiloka's Manual of Buddhist Terms and Doctrines, the term loka denotes "the 3 spheres of existence comprising the whole universe," which seems to be more in line with how Buddhist cosmology has traditionally been presented in Theravada (i.e., expanding and contracting world-systems), so perhaps this term should be analyzed in more detail as well.

All in all, I'm still of the opinion that questions about the origin of the universe are ultimately irrelevant to the practice, and this is mainly due to the focus of the practice itself, which is simply to comprehend suffering, abandon its cause, realize its cessation and develop the path leading to that cessation (SN 56.11).

Saturday, December 25, 2010

puggalavada: a brief look

This revised version of something I wrote back in 2006 initially began as response to a member's post, which eventually evolved into a topic in its own right. This entry is simply an attempt to share some of the things that I found regarding the Puggalavadins, as well as my own thoughts on the subject.

Be honest. How many times have you ever pondered the teachings on not-self (anatta) in an effort to discover whether there's a hidden self (atta) lurking around in the shadows somewhere? I can admit that I was once interested in pinning down the exact meaning of 'self,' 'not-self,' and whatever was in-between, mainly in an attempt to discover the answer to the timeless question, Who am I?

The difficulties in understanding the Buddha's teachings on rebirth (punabbhava, literally 'again becoming') along with not-self have plagued practitioners since the beginning of the Buddha's dispensation. Throughout the beginning of my own journey into Buddhism, I flirted with a version of the Puggalavadin view of self, which was helped along by the fact that I was previously a practicing Pagan with a fairly strong belief in the existence of a type of self or soul already. However, I quickly discovered a key problem: I was in no position to determine the exact nature of self from the Buddhist point of view when I'd yet to even grasp the basic tenets of Buddhism itself.

So in search of an answer, I turned to the discourses of the Buddha recorded in the Pali Canon, hungrily looking for something I could wrap my intellectual understanding around. At the beginning, I mistook the meaning of SN 44.10, thinking that perhaps the Buddha was just being coy and hinting at something there that was so unlike what anybody thought was there that it couldn't simply be labelled as 'self.' But after spending some time with a monk from the Thai Forest tradition, and more time reading the Suttas, I began to realize that the Buddha wasn't hinting at a self or a lack thereof at all; he was simply avoiding the misunderstandings and spectrum of wrong views the issue itself presents. At that point, I resigned myself to leave the question of self alone, deciding that that was what the Buddha himself recommended thanks to suttas such as AN 4.42 and MN 2.

I could now clearly see that trying to affirm or even deny a self of any sort wouldn't lead me to the cessation of suffering, so what was the point? I realized that whatever the truth may be, it must be 'seen' for oneself. It's not something that can adequately be put into words without giving the wrong impression, and it's not something that can be understood solely through reason; it's something that must eventually be experienced. All of the teachings and techniques expounded by the Buddha are ultimately meant to lead to 'knowledge and vision of things as they are' (yatha-bhuta-nana-dassana), and subsequently, to awakening. "Ah, so it's like this."

As for the Puggalavadins, they went by the same collection of teachings (sans the Abhidhamma Pitaka) as the other accepted schools of Buddhism, and they weren't necessarily deemed 'heretical' at the time of their existence. It's reported that their sect covered much of India before the decline of Buddhism in that area, and the main difference between them and the other sects existent at the time was their interpretation of the Buddha's teaching on not-self. There was much debate at the time as to what the Buddha was really pointing at in regard to the existence or non-existence of self — that which is "permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change" (SN 24.3) — with sutta references presented as evidence by both sides. One of the most famous and contentious is SN 22.22, with its unique mention of the 'person' (puggala) as the "carrier of the burden." Beyond this debate, however, their methods of practice were, as far as we know, quite similar.

This brings me to my point. It seems that even today, certain teachers in the Theravada tradition have views and teachings that seem to mirror the ancient Puggalavadin's, long after the latter's disappearance. There are certain teachers in the Thai Forest tradition, for example, whose teachings regarding the purified mind (citta) bear a striking resemblance to the Puggalavadin's regarding the person. That's not to say that they believe in, or teach about, a 'self' as the Puggalavadins did, but that they teach in a way that does at least seem to leave the question open. Thanissaro Bhikkhu, for example, wrote a controversial essay called "The Not-self Strategy," which some criticize as being an "eel-wriggling interpretation of anatta as a strategy." And then there are quotes like this from "Five Piles of Bricks":

Other passages mention a consciousness in this freedom — "without feature or surface, without end, luminous all around" — lying outside of time and space, experienced when the six sense spheres stop functioning (MN 49). In this it differs from the consciousness-khandha, which depends on the six sense spheres and can be described in such terms as near or far, past, present, or future. Consciousness without feature is thus the awareness of Awakening. And the freedom of this awareness carries over even when the awakened person returns to ordinary consciousness.


But there are others who are even more suspect in the eyes of the 'orthodox' Theravadin community, such as Ajahn Maha Boowa, who some accuse of holding more blatantly 'eternalistic' views. For example, in the appendix to his Arahattamagga Arahattaphala - The Path to Arahantship, he says things like "the true power of the citta's own nature is that it knows and does not die" (99). The real question is, Are the Puggalavadin's views, albeit subtly, still around today?

To begin with, who exactly were the Puggalavadins? From what little we do know, they were a sect of Buddhism that arose in about 300 BCE. They broke off from the older Sthaviravadins (part of which eventually evolved into our modern day 'Theravada' tradition). Their sect was known as the 'Personalist' school because of their belief that, while there is no 'self,' there is a 'person,' which is neither the same as, nor different from, the aggregates (khandhas).

The Puggalavadins more or less accepted and used the same collection of discourses (Sutta Pitika) and shared the same the monastic rules (Vinaya Pitika) as the Sthaviravadins, but they didn't accept the Abhidhamma Pitika, a systematization of certain concepts and terms found throughout the Sutta Pitaka — with additional concepts and terms added in for logical consistency — which was possibly intended to act as a pedagogical tool, as well as an attempt to describe the ultimate nature of reality. (Many scholars also agree that the Abhidhamma Pitaka is a later addition to the original teachings that gradual developed over several centuries. This is not only evident from the fact that the Abhidhamma utilizes words that are found nowhere else in the Canon, but also from the fact that each school had their own version, and some, like the Sautrantika school, even rejecting it altogether.)

As with other sects, they did have different versions of certain suttas, but the majority of their canon was apparently close to that of the Sthaviravadins. This is significant because they had to have comparable texts and/or teachings to be able to debate their views with their Sthaviravadin counterparts without automatically being deemed heretical. Unfortunately, almost none of their personal texts have survived besides a few poorly translated Chinese versions, so who can say how close their respective canons actually were.

In any case, after time, the 'orthodox' sect of the Sthaviravadins that eventually evolved into what we call Theravada deemed the Puggalavadin's take on the 'person' to be a misinterpretation of what the Buddha taught — mistaking the Buddha's conventional usage of speech for something metaphysical — and saw their rejection of the Abhidhamma as unorthodox, therefore they were officially labeled as heretical. Perhaps this was done even earlier, but we know for sure that in the Theravada Abhidhamma (as well as other versions) there's a section dealing with the refutation of heretical views including the Puggalavadin's called the Kathavatthu or Points of Controversy. An example of such a refutation from the Sarvastivadin viewpoint is found in Vasubandhu's Abhidharmakosa, an abstract of which can be found in Edward Conze's book, Buddhist Scriptures (pg. 103-06):

The Personalist Controversy

Is final deliverance then possible outside this Dharma, and can it be won on the basis of non-Buddhist doctrines? - No, it cannot, for all other teachings are corrupted by false ideas about a 'self'. Instead of taking it as a mere conventional term applied to a series of impersonal processes, they believe in a self which is a substance independent of the Skandhas. But the mere belief in such a self must of necessity generate defilements. Those who hold it will be forced to pursue life in the Samsaric world, and will be unable to free themselves completely from it.

The Personalist thesis, first part: But is it not true that a Buddhist school, the Personalists, speak of a Person who is neither identical with the Skandhas, nor different from them? And is not this Person a kind of self? And yet, as Buddhists they should be able to win deliverance! - We must ask ourselves whether this Person exists as a real entity, i.e. as one of the separate elements of existence, like the elementary sight-objects, sounds, and so on, which careful analysis reveals; or whether it has a merely nominal existence, which denotes a combination of simple elements, as 'milk' is a combination of sights, smells, tastes and touchables.

The Personalist: Why should not either assumption be true? - Vasubandbu: If the Person is a real entity with a nature of its own, it must be different from the elementary data, just as these are different from one another. It must then be either produced by causes, or unconditioned. In the first case it is not eternal, as you maintain, and you must be able to state its conditions in detail. In the second case you adopt a clearly non-Buddhistic doctrine, and, in addition, your Person could not do anything, and would be a rather useless hypothesis. The Person is therefore unlikely to be a real entity. But if you regard it as a mere designation, then your view does not differ in the least from ours. - The Personalist: We claim that there is a Person; but we do not say that he is an entity. Nor do we believe that he exists merely as a designation for the Skandhas. What we say is that the word 'Person' denotes a kind of structural unity which is found in correlation with the Skandhas of one individual, i.e. with those elements which are actually present, internal to him, and appropriated by him.

The Personalist thesis, second part: The Personalist also teaches that the Person is 'ineffable', that his rektion to the elements cannot be defined, that he is neither identical nor non-identical with them. He distinguishes five kinds of cognizable things -the first three are the conditioned dharmas, i.e. those past, future and present; the fourth is the Unconditioned; and the fifth is the 'ineffable', and refers to the Person. - But if the Person were quite ineffable, if nothing at all could be stated about it, then one could also not say of it either that it is the fifth category or that it is not!

The Personalist: It is perfectly true that the Person is not an object of consciousness. - Vasubandhu: Very well, but then one can never be aware of it; if unaware of it, one cannot cognize it; if it cannot be an object of cognition, how can its existence ever be established? And if one cannot do that, your system falls to pieces. - Vasubandhu then quotes a number of canonical texts, of which I give three here: The Bimbisarasutra says: 'The foolish ignorant common people, putting their trust in words, imagine that there is such a thing as a self. But there is neither "I" nor "mine". There are only dharmas, ill at ease, future, present and past.' In the Kshudragama the Buddha says to the Brahmin Badari: 'Badari, one who has heard the four holy truths, he can free himself from all bonds: thought alone defiles, thought alone purifies. The self has, in fact, not the nature of a self. To think that there is a self is a perverted view. There is nowhere here a living being, there is no self; dharmas alone together with their causes do exist.

No person can be found in all the Skandhas when examined. And, having seen that a person is inwardly empty, you must also see the outside world as empty. Even those who meditate on emptiness cannot be said to exist.' And another Sutra says: 'Five calamities result from a belief in a self: wrong opinions about the actual status of a self, an individual, a soul; non-distinction from non-Buddhists; one goes astray on a wrong road; thought does not leap forward into emptiness, finds no serenity in it, does not abide in it, does not resolve upon it; one will never be sufficiently purified to win the qualities of a saint.'

The Personalist: These texts have no authority for us. They do not form part of our Scriptures. - Vasubandhu: What then is the authority behind your system - your sect or the word of the Buddha? How can you claim the Buddha as your Teacher, how can you be Shakyamuni's sons, if you do not accept all the Buddha's words as binding on you? - The Personalist: The texts you have just quoted are not the Buddha's own words, and they are not in the Scriptures of our school. -Vasubandhu: That is not very convincing. For all the other schools accept these texts, and they are not in conflict either with other Sutras, or with the Dharma. This is therefore sheer effrontery on your part. And how then, incidentally, do you explain the Sutra which says: 'To mistake for a self that which is not a self, that is a perverted notion, a perverted idea, a perverted opinion.' - The Personalist: The Sutra only says that it is a perversion to mistake a not-self for a self; but it does not say that it is a perversion to recognize a self as a self. And also: According to your doctrines the Lord could not possibly be omniscient. You say that all thoughts and mental activities change incessantly, and that each mental act lasts only for one moment. How then can it know all the dharmas? Only an abiding Person can be omniscient. - Vasubandhu: May I point out that then your Person would be eternal, and that contradicts your statements that we cannot say whether he is eternal or not. And this is how we account for the Buddha's omniscience: For us the word 'Buddha' is a term denoting a series of momentary events. We do not believe that in one single moment he just knows all the dharmas simultaneously. The unique feature of his series of momentary mental actions lies in the fact that, by the mere act of turning his mind on anything, there arises immediately a correct and unperverted knowledge of any object whatever, if there should be at the same time the desire to know it. That is the sense in which we speak of 'omniscience'.

The Personalist: Why then, if the word 'person' means nothing but the five Skandhas which form the range of grasping, did the Lord teach the 'Burden Sutra', which says: 'I will teach you the burden, its taking up, its laying down, and the bearer of the burden. The five Skandhas, which are the range of grasping, are the burden. Craving takes up the burden. The renunciation of craving lays it down. The bearer of the burden is the person: this venerable man, with such and such a name, born so and so, of such and such a clan, who sustains himself on this or that food, experiences these pleasures and pains, lives for just so long, stays here for just so long, terminates his life-span in just this way.' For, if 'person' were only another name for the Skandhas, if 'person' and Skandhas were actually identical, then the burden would carry itself, and that is absurd. - Vasubandhu: You have misunderstood the message of this Sutra. The Lord speaks of a 'person' here only in order to conform to the usage of the world. In fact this so-called 'personality' is nothing but a series of consecutive impersonal momentary events, all of them linked to suffering. But the processes which have taken place in the past cause suffering in those which succeed them. The preceding Skandhas are therefore called the 'burden', the subsequent ones its 'bearer'.

The Personalist: Moreover, another Sutra says: 'One person, when he arises, when he is born in the world, is born for the weal of the many. Who is that one person? It is the Tathagata.' - Vasubandhu: Here again the Lord just conforms to the usage of the world. For that reason he treats here as a unit that which is in fact a complex; it is quite usual for people to speak of a 'word', although it is in fact a compound of syllables, or of a heap of rice, although it obviously comprises a multiplicity of grains. In addition, this Sutra says of the person that 'he arises', and that, contrary to your teaching, makes him into something conditioned. - The Personalist: The term 'arises' has one meaning when applied to the dharmas, another when applied to the Person. A dharma is said to 'arise' because it exists now after not having existed before. A person, however, is said to 'arise', or to 'be born' when, on rebirth in a certain form, he takes up, or acquires, certain constituents, which make him into 'this man', 'this animal', 'this ghost', and so on. It is quite usual to say of a man who has acquired a knowledge of grammar that 'a grammarian is born', or 'a grammarian has arisen', but that does not mean that he has come from nothing. The person 'arises' in the sense that he acquires at a certain time a certain series of attributes, in the above quotation those of a Buddha. - Vasubandhu: This explanation has been expressly condemned by the Lord. For He has said: 'There is action, and there is the retribution of action. But apart from the causally linked sequence of impersonal dharmas there is no one who acts, there is no one who gives up one set of Skandhas, and takes up others instead." In consequence there is no person who gives up his Skandhas at death and takes up others at rebirth.

The Personalist: Nevertheless, the Person is real, for it has been said: 'To say that the self does not exist, in truth and in reality, is a wrong view.' - Vasubandhu: This is no proof, for it has also been said that to affirm the existence of a self is a wrong view. We Abhidharmists believe that both the general affirmation and the general negation of a self are extremist views, in accordance with the well-known saying of the Vatsagotra-sutra: 'Those, Ananda, who affirm a self fall into the extreme of the belief in its eternal continuation; those who deny it fall into the extreme of the belief in its eventual annihilation.'

The Personalist; If the Person does not exist, who then is it that wanders about in Samsara? It is difficult to see how the Samsara itself can wander about. - Vasubandhu: The correct explanation is, however, quite simple: When a flame burns a piece of wood, one says that it wanders along it; nevertheless there is nothing but a series of flame-moments. Likewise there is a continuous series of processes which incessantly renews itself, and which is falsely called a living being. Impelled by craving, this series is said to 'wander' in Samsara.

The Personalist: If the momentary processes alone exist, how can you explain these words of the Lord, when he said, on recalling one of his former lives: 'This sage Sunetra, who existed in the past, that Sunetra was I.' All the psycho-physical elements have changed, and it can therefore only be the 'person' that makes the Buddha and Sunetra identical. -Vasubandhu: What in fact is it that the Lord thinks of when he speaks here of I? If, as you say, he means the 'person', then the past 'I' is identical with the present I, and your 'person' will be permanent, as against your intentions. For us, however, the Lord only meant to say that his actually present dharmas are parts of the same continuous series of dharmas as those of Sunetra. As one says: 'This fire has burned its way to here.' - In any case, you assert the existence of a real self, which is of a nature so subtle and elusive, that the Tathagatas alone can see it. In that case, the Buddhas would become believers in I and 'mine', with all its pernicious consequences for the spiritual life. They will form an attachment to that part of the universe which they come to consider as their own, and in that way they will be far removed from deliverance! -The Personalist: It is only when, as is the habit of non-Buddhists, something which is not the true Self is mistaken for the true Self, that one will feel affection for that pretended self. If, however, one sees, as the Buddhas do, the Ineffable Person as the true self, then, because that actually is the true self, no affection for it is thereby engendered.


So back to the question: Are their views still around today? In my opinion, the answer is yes and no. While some teachers, like Thanissaro, tend to be somewhat suspect and are often accused of holding quasi-eternalistic, Puggalavadin-type views by strict traditionalists, I believe that they're actually teaching wisely by using a variety of skillful means to burn away clinging (upadana) to all forms of self-view equally, from the idea of 'I have a self,' to the idea of 'I have no self,' and everything in between. And while some of Thanissaro's writings and talks did make me seriously question his approach at first, I've since come to the conclusion that his teachings aren't at odds with the Buddha, although they do occasionally conflict with what some consider to be Theravadin orthodoxy.

The way in which Thanissaro writes about not-self, while seeming to leave the question of self open, actually lays the question aside altogether. It may appear that he's hinting at a 'self' lurking around somewhere, but in reality, he's going by what the Suttas themselves actually say (e.g., DN 11, MN 2, MN 8, MN 22, SN 22.85, SN 44.10, etc.). On closer examination, it's clear (to me at least) that he tries to teach people in a way that discourages both attachment to a belief in a self and an attachment to not-self as a substitute. This might not sound like it makes very much sense, but it's actually quite ingenious. Many people simply attach to the idea of having no self instead of a self, which the Buddha also warns against:

This is how he attends inappropriately: 'Was I in the past? Was I not in the past? What was I in the past? How was I in the past? Having been what, what was I in the past? Shall I be in the future? Shall I not be in the future? What shall I be in the future? How shall I be in the future? Having been what, what shall I be in the future?' Or else he is inwardly perplexed about the immediate present: 'Am I? Am I not? What am I? How am I? Where has this being come from? Where is it bound?'

As he attends inappropriately in this way, one of six kinds of view arises in him: The view I have a self arises in him as true & established, or the view I have no self... or the view It is precisely by means of self that I perceive self... or the view It is precisely by means of self that I perceive not-self... or the view It is precisely by means of not-self that I perceive self arises in him as true & established, or else he has a view like this: This very self of mine — the knower that is sensitive here & there to the ripening of good & bad actions — is the self of mine that is constant, everlasting, eternal, not subject to change, and will stay just as it is for eternity. This is called a thicket of views, a wilderness of views, a contortion of views, a writhing of views, a fetter of views. Bound by a fetter of views, the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person is not freed from birth, aging, & death, from sorrow, lamentation, pain, distress, & despair. He is not freed, I tell you, from suffering & stress.


In addition, Thanissaro, contrary to what some might think, never suggests that the teachings on not-self and kamma (literally 'action') don't work together, implying the need for a pseudo-self to have it all make sense. This is a horrendous but easily cleared up misunderstanding of what he says in his essay "No-self or Not-self?" Far from claiming that the teachings on not-self and kamma don't fit well together, he's simply explaining that this is a perception many people have (i.e., they don't seem to fit), especially Westerners with a Judeo-Christian background, when they learn about Buddhism and first encounter these teachings. More importantly, by laying aside the question of whether or not there's a self altogether, he's attempting to approach the subject in the same way the Buddha does in SN 44.10 since, in his words, "to hold either that there is a self or that there is no self is to fall into extreme forms of wrong view that make the path of Buddhist practice impossible."

However, there are some who've studied the Puggalavadin's doctrines and views and have actually come out in favour of them, and quite openly in fact. One such person is D. Amarasiri Weeraratne. In his article "Puggalavada and Theravada Buddhist teachings," he writes:

Upto the time of the 2nd Council 200 years after the Buddha, there were no sectarian divisions among Buddhist monks. The Buddha had permitted the Sangha to change minor rules after his demise, according to the wishes of the fraternity and by a majority decision. In pursuance of this concession, the monks of the Vajji country well known for its republican form of government called for the adoption of ten minor changes in the Vinaya rules.

The hard core orthodox and conservative monks headed by Revata and Sabbakami resisted these changes. Hence the conservative elders disallowed these changes. Consequently, the dissident monks broke away from the conservative elders (The Theras) and established the Mahasanghika Sect and held their own Sangha Council. Thus came about the first division in the Sangha. The Maha Sanghikas as their name implies constituted the majority of the Sangha. The Theras constituted a minority of hard core reactionaries who were opposed to an form of change.

Between the 2nd and 3rd Councils 236 years after the Buddha the Conservative Elders (The Theras) broke off into two sects, viz: Vibjjavadins and Sautrantikas. Almost simultaneously the Mahasangikas also broke off into a sect called Puggalavadin. (Believers in persons.) The Vibjjavadins broke off into three sects, one of which was the Theravada - the Buddhism we have in Sri Lanka, Burma, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos etc. Thus you will see that the Puggalavada Sect and the Theravada Sect were the earliest of the sectarian divisions in Buddhism.

Controversy on Abhidhamma

The chief characteristic of the Puggalavada Sect was their rejection of the Abhidharma Pitaka as a teaching of the Buddha. They maintained that Abhidharma is apocryphal scripture cooked up by the Theravada Elders between the 2nd and 3rd Councils and adopted at the 3rd Council. The Puggalavadins as well as Sautranitikas rejected the Abhidharma Pitaka and had only 2 Pitakas viz: Sutta and Vinaya Pitakas.

In the Suttas the Buddha speaks of a person who fares on in Sansara, performs good and bad deeds and receives reward or distribution for them. In fact the entire Sutta Pitaka is based on the assumption that there is a person (puggala) who is subject to the sufferings in Sansara. The purpose of the Buddha-Dhamma is to eliminate this suffering and help them to attain Nirvana.

The Anatta concept

The Abhidharma denies the existence of a person or an individual. It accepts only fleeting thought moments which arise and flash instantly. In this process there is no person or being. The Buddha taught the Suttas to men on earth, referring to a person. In the Abhidharma he is supposed to have preached to the gods in which he denies the existence of a person or an individual. In order to bridge the gulf of this inconsistency the Abhidharma scholars invented the theory of two truths. The Sutras are true in the conventional sense, and the Abhidharma is true in the ultimate sense which is the highest truth.

The Puggalavadins could not accept the theory that the Buddha had taught two kinds of truth. Nowhere had he done so. The Theravadins cannot quote from any part of the Sutras where he has taught that there are two truths called Sammuti and Paramartha. Thus they refuted this contention and asserted that the Abhidharma Pitaka is a fabrication and required another concoction to maintain its validity. It is with the help of this fabrication that Abhidharma scholars reconcile the inconsistency in the Sutra and Abhidharma teachings.

The Southern School of Buddhism

Theravada Buddhism is Abhidharma oriented. All its commentaries and ancillary literature are written in a way to accommodate the Abhidarma. Ven. Buddhagosha asserted that the Abhidharma Pitaka is a teaching of the Buddha. But he himself admitted in the Atthasalini Commentary that there were ancient Sinhala Elders at Anuradhapura who challenged the validity of the Abhidharma Pitaka.

They pointed out that the Buddha had taught in the Mahaparinirvana Sutra that we should not accept teachings presented to us in his name if they are inconsistent with the Sutra and the Vinaya teachings. They also asserted that in the Anagatabhaya Sutra the Buddha envisaged a time when monks will cook up doctrines and scriptures not taught by him and present them as the Buddha-word. He admonished his followers to carefully compare such teachings with the Sutras and the Vinaya and accept them only if they are compatible and consistent.

Therefore Abhidharma being incompatible with the Sutra and Vinaya teaching was rejected by the Puggalawadins. The Sautrantika teachers too rejected the Abhidharma on the same grounds. The very name Sautrantika Sect means those who take only the Sutras as authoritative.

The controversy on Antarbhava

They accepted Abhidharma only to the extent that it is found in seed form in the Sutras. Another important teaching of the Puggalavadins was the doctrine of Antarabhava. The interim spirit existence between one life and another. This was denied by the Therevadins who asserted that the acceptance of Antarabhava by the Puggalavadins was due to a misunderstanding of some passages of the Sutras. The Puggalavadins maintained their position and showed that the misinterpretation of key passages is the work of Abhidharma oriented Theravada teachers, who tried to cut and hack the Buddha-word to suit their Abhidharma-oriented views. Their teaching was that their was no person, or being, but a mere flux of fleeting thought moments which are impersonal. The Puggalavadins considered this a bovine folly.

Between the 2nd and 3rd Council, the Theravadins had compiled 7 Abhidharma books and asserted that except one other were the teachings of the Buddha preached in the Tavatismsa heaven to the gods. Not to be outdone the Sarvastivadin teachers also compiled 7 Abhidharma books and adopted them as their Abhidharma Pitaka. They were candid and frank enough to reveal the names of the authors of the books, unlike the Theravadins who took up the position that their 7 books contained preachings of the Buddha to the gods in the Tavatimsa heaven.

The common denominator

But an examination of the two Abhidharma Pitakas show too many discrepancies whereas their Sutra and Vinaya Pitakas are similar. This is clear proof that the Abhidharma Pitaka was composed after the monks broke off into sects. The Puggalavadins taught that a person or a pudgala who performs good and bad deeds reaps the results and fares on in Sansara until the attainment of Nirvana. The Bharahara Surta was the favourite text of the Pudgalavadins. Therein Buddha said" Bhara have Panchakkhando, Bharaharo Ca Puggalo." This means the five aggregates are a burden, the puggala or person is the burden bearer.

Here clearly the Buddha distinguishes between the five groups of aggregates (skandas) and the person who bears them. But according to the Theravada Abhidharma the burden carries itself. There is no burden-bearer. This is what Buddhaghosha meant when he said in the Visuddhi Magga - the standard text of the Theravada - that" there is mere suffering but no sufferer exists". "There is the Noble Eightfold Path but no one traverses it". Buddhaghosha copied the idea from a verse in Nagarjuna’s Mula Madhyama Karika - his magnum opus in which he ennunciates his Madhyamika philosophy with its central doctrine of Sunyata - the void. According to this, the whole world and all its phenomena are mirage, a dream, an illusion or" a castle in the air" as Nagarjuna put it. This is the Hindu doctrine of Maya dressed up in a Buddhist garb.

The Puggalavadins taught that to deny the existence of a person is to bring down the whole edifice of the Buddha-Dharma. It is absurd to say that the burden carries itself, that mere suffering exists and there is no sufferer, or that the Path exists without anyone to tread the path. This is not Buddhism, it is the Buddhaghosha brand of Abhidharma Buddhism.

The self and no-self

The Puggalavadins point out that if there are no beings, the practise of Metta would not be possible, Karma and Rebirth would be meaningless, without a person faring on in Sansara. Memories of previous lives, the preaching of the Satipattana Sutra for the purification of beings and overcoming their sufferings would be meaningless, if there is no person.

The Buddha said, "One person is born among men for the welfare and happiness of beings". Hundreds of such texts can be quoted from the Sutras. To deny a person in the ultimate sense (the highest truth) and accept him in a conventional sense is to talk with two tongues and dilute the truth of the Buddha-word. The Sutta Nipata says that "Buddhas have no two words." "Truth is one and not many". (Ekam hi saccam na dutiyamatthi). Two contrary truths is foreign to the Buddha’s teaching.

The chief difference between Puggalavada and Theravada comes with the acceptance and non-acceptance of the Abhidharma Pitaka as a teaching of the Buddha. Theravada is steeped in Abhidharma and is abhidharma oriented. The Puggala vadins have only two Pitakas namely Sutra and Vinaya Pitakas. The Puggalavadins took care not to use the word Atman or soul as is understood in Vedanta, i.e. an immutable self characterised by permanence, bliss and substance.

The Puggala of the Pudgalavadins is a self that is subject to impermanence, unsatisfactoriness and is not to be considered as the essence or core for those reasons. This appears to be a halfway house between the Vedantic soul and the no-soul doctrine of the Theravadins. The Buddha is neither an anatmavadi nor atmavadi.

The Puggalavadins teach that the puggala arises simultaneously with the five aggregates, is not within or outside them, but forms a structural unit with them.

It is the astral body, secondary body or bio-plasamabody of modern Para-psychological research. Its existence and verifiability has been vindicated by 150 years of Psychical Research in the West in which very eminent scientists have taken part. It is the mano-kaya or the Suttas.

If Buddhism is to be a practical religion of value to mankind, it must take into account and recognise the existence of persons or individuals - otherwise Buddhism falls flat and collapses like a pack of cards. When you deny a person, you have to deny the Buddha, his Dhamma and the Sangha. That reduces Buddhism to a force.


As for myself, I try to look at it from the perspective of, In the end, who really knows? If we were to conclude now what the answer may be, without the insights born of the practice itself, it'd be little more than speculation; there'd be no 'gnosis,' no knowledge of the truth. And we're never asked by the Buddha to speculate about what he meant, nor are we told that we'll be freed by our conceptual thoughts of such. All that does is lead to what the Buddha called "a thicket of view" and to the propagation of those views (a mental form of samsara, literally 'wandering on'). In fact, I think the Suttas are quite clear that, as important as having an intellectual understanding of the teachings is, people who are serious about ending suffering will eventually need to put these teachings into practice to see whether they really do lead to a true and lasting happiness. Simply clinging to views of self certainly won't do it.

And what is clinging/sustenance? These four are clingings: sensuality clinging, view clinging, precept & practice clinging, and doctrine of self clinging. This is called clinging. (SN 12.2)


And with clinging comes what?

From ignorance as a requisite condition come fabrications. From fabrications as a requisite condition comes consciousness. From consciousness as a requisite condition comes name-&-form. From name-&-form as a requisite condition come the six sense media. From the six sense media as a requisite condition comes contact. From contact as a requisite condition comes feeling. From feeling as a requisite condition comes craving. From craving as a requisite condition comes clinging/sustenance. From clinging/sustenance as a requisite condition comes becoming. From becoming as a requisite condition comes birth. From birth as a requisite condition, then aging & death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, distress, & despair come into play. Such is the origination of this entire mass of stress & suffering. (SN 12.2)


That's right, stress and suffering (dukkha) eventually arises due to the sustenance of clinging. That's the danger of clinging, even to the idea of 'self' if such a thing exists. And this is important because the Buddha himself said that he didn't "envision a clinging to a doctrine of self, clinging to which there would not arise sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, & despair" (MN 22). And the Buddha only taught one thing:

Both formerly and now, monks, I declare only stress and the cessation of stress.


What this says to me is that, when we travel the path to put down all of our burdens, we must be careful not pick up more along the way. This includes the burden of self-view in any of its subtle forms. That's where the Puggalavadins seem to go wrong in one respect. Their views, whether right or wrong in the ultimate sense, are sustenance for clinging, especially if we see that the idea of a 'person' beyond the conventional sense is, for all intents and purposes, a doctrine of self. And while their interpretation of the teachings on not-self does offer a possible explanation of how kamma and rebirth work, they fail in keeping to the Buddha's overall teachings. In just these three lines, the Buddha leaves no ground for any type of self-view to gain a foothold:

Sabbe sankhara dukkha. (All processes are stressful.)
Sabbe sankhara anicca. (All processes are inconstant.)
Sabbe dhamma anatta. (All phenomena are not-self.)


For us unawakened worldlings (puthujjana), it seems that the quest continues. We each undertake this journey with the hope of finding out these answers for ourselves, to find our own freedom from dukkha. There's not much certainty in this world, even in Buddhism it sometimes seems, but there's one thing I think we can have confidence in—the noble eightfold path.

I've come to the conclusion that the answer to the question, Who am I? isn't important. What's really important, however, is realizing that our attachment to views and doctrines of self keep us rooted in "perceptions and categories of objectification" that continually assail us and our mental well-being (MN 18). One must clear away all views, opinions and preconceived notions about self, and cut at the very roots of such attachments to gain release. It's through a combination of meditation and contemplation of the five aggregates that we can develop the insight into the teachings on not-self that's beyond mere speculation, and rests instead within the realm of direct experience. That kind of insight is the only kind that leads to real freedom, not simply repeating the formula, 'All things are not-self.'

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

interview

Here's an interview of sorts I did via PM with a member at dhammawheel.com:

Laurens: I thought I would start by asking you about what your personal take on Buddhism is, which teachers you follow and the kind of practice that you undertake.

Me: Well, I think that Buddhism can be seem from many different angles, but I prefer to see it as a type of 'transcendent psychology.' I think that a critical analysis of the earliest texts reveals a much more pragmatic and specialized method of mental training than many people (traditional Buddhists and Western converts alike) realize—one that seeks to diminish and even eliminate suffering by radically changing the way the mind relates to experience.

As for myself, I've had many teachers, and almost all of them are Thai Theravada. My first teacher was Ajahn Chuen from the Midwest Buddhist Meditation Center in Warren, MI. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago. I also visited Wat Dhammasala frequently when I lived in Michigan, and practiced with Ajahn Khemasanto. After I moved to California, I started going to Wat Buddhanusorn and practiced with Ajahn Prasert, as well as with Ayya Tathaaloka, who was also a student of his at the time. My most recent teacher is Ven. Fa Thai, a Thai monk who is now in charge of a Taiwanese Mahayana temple called Miao Fa Chan Temple in Portland, Oregon, although I haven't been there in some time. In addition, I gain a great deal of inspiration and practical insights from Thai Forest teachers such as Thanissaro Bhikkhu, who makes his way up to Portland about once a year.

My meditation practice has mainly centred around mindfulness of breathing (anapanasati), although for the past few years I've been doing more studying than anything.

L: Would you say that the essence of Buddhism stands clear consistently in the scriptures that you study? Some religion's important messages are completely lost when in comes to interpretation of scripture (look at the number of different sects of Christianity) - why is Buddhism different?

I noticed that there seems to be a very mild evolution of the teachings in different cultures, but it struck me how the essentials of Buddhism remained pretty consistent throughout. Something that you couldn't say about all religions.


Me: Yes, I'd say that the essence of what the Buddha is recorded as saying in the Pali Canon is fairly consistent throughout. I think this is mainly due to the fact that the Buddha was a superbly gifted teacher, and that, despite evidence of later additions and modifications, much of what he taught seems to have been faithfully passed down by his disciples.

If you analyze other religious texts, such as the Bible or the Mahabharata, for example, there's evidence of layers of authorship (even in places where there is said to be only one author), and you can literally trace the evolution of these texts via changes in style, grammar and content.

The core of Pali Canon, however, shows evidence of originating from a single source through its consistency of content. As Prof. Richard Gombrich puts it, "I find (as Buddhists have always found) that the central part of the Canon... presents such originality, intelligence, grandeur and - most relevantly - coherence, that it is hard to see it as a composite works" (Theravada Buddhism, pg. 20).

I'm not completely sure why this is, but I think the methods of preservation may have had something to do with it. At the beginning, this included memorization of suttas by large groups of monks, who would then have periodic councils where they would recite and compare various recitations in order to weed out alterations and distortions. This was later done with written texts, as well.

L: I got the feeling too that Gotama was a gifted teacher. I feel however, that in the centuries since his death mankind has built a religious organization around him. My opinion is that the Buddha was aware that this may have been the case because he instructed his followers to essentially not make idols of him [I can't find a reference for that at some point, I will add it later, I thought I'd get the question out there first]. Yet we did, and there is a lot of superstition that has developed around 'gaining merit' and bowing to giant statues creating rituals and so forth . I think this says a lot about religion, and mankind's tendency to make idols and ritualistic behaviour. I don't think the Buddha intended to gain worship, I think he intended to have the focus on his teachings only.

What, if any, do you think are the differences between 'Dhamma' (in this context meaning the essential teachings of the Buddha) and Buddhism the religion?


Local customs, deities and religious practices have certainly found their way into Buddhism wherever it's been established. As such, I think there are quite a few difference between what the Buddha taught and Buddhism as a traditional religious institution. Take the Thai tradition of amulet making and the water blessing ceremony, for example. The Buddha didn't teach anything like these, but they've made their way into Buddhism anyway, even despite the whole 'not clinging to rites and rituals' thing.

I mean, there's nothing inherently wrong with having an amulet to remind you of the practice, or participating in a water blessing ceremony. Hell, I'll admit that I like to get sprinkled as much as the next person. But I also don't think that amulets can protect me from bullets or make me successful, and I know that only meditation and contemplation can cleanse my mind, not a splash of H2O in the face.

L: I have a theory that a lot of Westerners, particularly in America turn towards Buddhism as a reaction to Christianity. The reason I say particularly in America, is because in America Christianity is often associated with right-wing conservatism - which for some, holds negative connotations. I think that Buddhism provides a liberally minded, peaceful alternative to the often intolerant views of the Christian right, and therefore it wouldn't surprise me if there were some that turned to Buddhism as a kind of backlash against the faith that they were brought up in. I am by no means saying that this is the case for all Westerners, but it wouldn't surprise me if this was a factor in the spread of Buddhism to the West. Do you think that there is any weight to this notion?

It would be interesting for me to know also, if you were raised in a Christian family?


Me: I think there's some truth to that. Most of the Buddhists I know were raised in a Christian family. As for myself, I was lucky in that I raised without any kind of religious upbringing whatsoever, so I was free to explore my own spirituality without constrainment.

As a child, I began my spiritual exploration out of shear curiosity, beginning with Greek and Roman mythology. I used to love looking through the dictionary to find names of various gods and goddesses and read all about them. From there, I branched out to Egyptian, Norse and other ancient myths. I eventually got my Mom to buy me some books about mythology like Edith Hamilton's Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes and Kevin Crossley-Holland's The Norse Myths.

At some point, I became interested in Christianity for a brief period. I was under the assumption that since so many people believed in God, God must exist. I mean, why else would there be so many churches and television shows about God? But, after researching more about Christian theology, I began to have some serious doubts. I discovered alternative views, especially those of the Gnostics. Later, during the majority of my adolescence, I found myself drawn to LeVay-style Satanism until I was introduced to a witch and began practicing Paganism and Witchcraft. (Those were some interesting times.)

When I was around 24 [I'm currently 32], I discovered Buddhism after visiting a Thai Theravada temple near my house. I spent a lot of time visiting the temple and meditating, especially during some really difficult times, and I had a feeling that this path had more potential for my spiritual growth and well-being than any I'd previously undertaken (including materialistic self-indulgence). It's been a big influence on me ever since.

L: Can you tell me more about meditation? How does it relate to the teachings, and how did it help during difficult times?

Me: The way I see it, craving (tahna) is the cause of suffering (dukkha), and to end suffering its cause must be removed; the difficulty arises when it comes to how exactly this is done. My theory is that craving is a very subtle but powerful aspect of our psychology. It's there, latent in the mind, waiting to exert its influence through mental fabrications (sankhara) by directing or at the very least encouraging the mind to feed upon sensory experiences via the five clinging-aggregates (upadana-khandha) in an unhealthy way.

The problem is that these processes of subtle movement in the mind are so subtle that they are almost impossible to discern as they are taking place. That's where I believe meditation comes in: meditation helps to calm and still the mind so that these mental events become easier and easier to observe. One, in effect, uses conditionality in order to fabricate controlled states of mental absorption (jhana) until they're able to discern the presence of craving, its movement in the mind, and the fact that even these refined and subtle states of mental absorption are ultimately stressful and unsatisfactory. This leads one to develop dispassion (viraga), and dispassion leads one to cease fabrication thus opening the doors to the deathless (amata) by ending the chain of causation (paticca-samuppada).

As for how I've experienced meditation personally, that's difficult to describe. I've experienced states of clam, and occasionally feelings of pleasure that permeated my whole body when I was meditating regularly, but those experiences are rare and, sadly, I've let my meditation practice slide for some time.

When I was going through a really difficult time, though, I really looked forward to evening chanting and meditation at the Midwest Buddhist Meditation Center. It helped keep me sane and allowed me to deal with some things that I normally wouldn't have been able to deal with. For me, it was like a shelter in a storm. I also had a hard time eating because I was so upset and my stomach would just get so tight I couldn't eat anything. After meditation, however, my stomach would usually relax and I was able to go to my favourite Thai restaurant and eat. Lucky for me I just happened to start meditating before shit hit the fan, otherwise I'm not sure what I would've done. Probably would've just drank myself stupid or something.

L: Are their any popular misconceptions about Buddhism, or Buddhist practice that you would like to address?

Me: Heh, lots, (e.g., anatta, kamma, the idea that Buddhism teaches life is suffering, etc.)

L: What are your views on the various kinds of religious extremism that we see in the world?

What advice would you give to a religious extremist if you could?


Me: I have mixed ideas about this. On the one hand, religion is, among other things, a creative expression of our search for happiness, meaning and truth in a seemingly infinite universe. Religion can be a beautiful thing that brings communities together, as well as bring individuals closer to a happiness that transcends much of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness seemingly inherent in this fragile thing we call life.

On the other hand, religion is being used to justify and even instigate violence and oppression, and that's a real problem; although, I think that when you dig a little bit deeper, it becomes apparent that there's a lot more going on than meets the eye. For one thing, it's not just the religions themselves that need to be scrutinized, but also the cultures that are influenced by these religious traditions.

I think it's fair to say that certain people and cultures are more intolerant and prone to use religious teachings to justify violence, but I'm not sure it's fair to single out a specific religion, such as Islam, for example, because, they way I see it, it's not religion that makes people dangerous so much as it's people who make religion dangerous. And the same can be said about almost anything, especially political ideologies.

As for what I would say to a religious extremist, I don't know. The problem is, how can you talk to a person about this in a rational way when they're not necessarily in a rational states of mind? I doubt anything I could say would have any affect on someone unless they were at least somewhat open to hearing what I had to say; but when you're sure you have the Truth™, you're often not listening, I mean really listening, to what other people have to say.

I've heard people express their desire to "kill religion" (e.g., Dawkins et al.), and I can understand some of their reasoning for making such statements, especially when you have people using religion to justify suicide bombing and discrimination against gays, women, etc., but I also can't help but think that doing so would come at a great cost to humanity in that we'd be losing an important part of what makes us human.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

unanswered questions

How was the world created? Where did we come from? What is the nature of the universe? Is there a God? These are seemingly timeless questions, questions which most religions attempt to answer, even Buddhism to a certain extent it would seem. There does appears to be a type of creation myth in the Agganna Sutta of the Digha Nikaya, after all. Nevertheless, many people new to Buddhism may be surprised to hear that these questions are really a non-issue in Buddhism, especially in regard to the practice itself. In fact, the Buddha leaves most of them unanswered, and the ones he does answer, it's not always how we expect.

Take MN 63, for example. In this exchange, Malunkaputta demands that the Buddha answer ten questions concerning positions that are "undeclared, set aside, discarded by the Blessed One" — whether the cosmos is eternal or not eternal; whether the cosmos is finite or infinite; whether the soul and the body are the same or the soul is one thing and the body another; whether after death a Tathagata exists or does not exist, both exists and does not exist or neither exists nor does not exist — or else he will leave the Sangha.

The Buddha responds to this onslaught of questions by asking Malunkyaputta, "Did I ever say to you, 'Come, Malunkyaputta, live the holy life under me, and I will declare to you that 'The cosmos is eternal,' or 'The cosmos is not eternal,' or 'The cosmos is finite,' or 'The cosmos is infinite,' or 'The soul & the body are the same,' or 'The soul is one thing and the body another,' or 'After death a Tathagata exists,' or 'After death a Tathagata does not exist,' or 'After death a Tathagata both exists & does not exist,' or 'After death a Tathagata neither exists nor does not exist?'" Malunkaputta, of course, answers no. The Buddha further admonishes:

Malunkyaputta, if anyone were to say, 'I won't live the holy life under the Blessed One as long as he does not declare to me that "The cosmos is eternal,"... or that "After death a Tathagata neither exists nor does not exist,"' the man would die and those things would still remain undeclared by the Tathagata.


As for DN 27, the Buddha tells a story about the beginning of life on this world to two brahmins which, in the end, was used to illustrate how the way to liberation is beyond caste and lineage. So, in this regard, the Buddha does give what can be interpreted as a rough theory of evolution to the pair of brahmins in that the physical characteristics of the mythological beings in question change due to environmental changes and interactions, as well as a description the universe somewhat akin to the oscillating universe theory.

I think that, when taken literally, the creation myth in DN 27 can be seen as an attempt to give a naturalistic explanation of the origins of life and the universe, and Darwin's fairly well-proven theory of evolution certainly isn't inconsistent with this, which makes many new Buddhists breath a sigh of relief. That being said, I agree with Prof. Gombrich that, taking the context of DN 27 into account, this sutta is a lively and ingenious parody that's actually meant to make fun of the very need for a cosmology as a foundation for religious development (How Buddhism Began: The Conditioned Genesis of the Early Teachings, pg. 81-82).

Personally, I see Buddhism as dealing exclusively with mental stress and its cessation (i.e., psychology), not biology, or physics, etc. And while some people get excited when they discover that Buddhism contains teachings which seem to be in accord with modern science, I think they can often be misleading and shouldn't be taken too seriously, or at least, too literally. I think this is especially true of DN 27 considering that recent observations of cosmic background radiation indicate the universe is actually expanding at an accelerated rate, hence there may not be any contraction or 'Big Crunch.' (Lawrence Krauss mentions this in his talk at the 2009 AAI Conference; although it should also be noted that Roger Penrose recently challenged the commonly-held 'inflationary theory' of cosmology with his suggestion that analysis of cosmic microwave background shows echoes of previous Big Bang-like events.)

As for the question of God, that's also a non-issue in Buddhism. According to the texts, a beginning point to samsara (literally 'wandering on') isn't evident (SN 15.3). This can be interpreted two ways — that a beginning point to the continual cycle of death and rebirth of beings isn't evident, or that a beginning point to the continual cycle of death and rebirth of the conceit 'I am,' the self-identification that designates a being (satta), isn't evident — and they're not mutually exclusive. Either way, the point is the same: all that really matters in the here and now is whether suffering is present, and if so, how it can be overcome.

All in all, I think it's safe to say that Buddhism is essentially non-theistic in view. However, I also happen to be of the opinion that, if we dig a bit deeper, the idea of a creator God is incompatible with certain aspects and teachings that, if taken to their logical conclusion, seem to reject the idea of, or a need for, a creator God. For one thing, the logic of dependent co-arising negates the idea of a creator God in that it precludes a first cause or a causeless cause. Then there's this famous problem of evil passage from the Bhuridatta Jataka (although, to be fair, this is most likely a later addition that some date to the 13th century):

We see those rules enforced before our eyes,
None but the Brahmans offer sacrifice,
None but the Khattiya exercises sway,
The Vessas plough, the Suddas must obey.
These greedy liars propagate deceit,
And fools believe the fictions they repeat;
He who has eyes can see the sickening sight;
Why does not Brahma set his creatures right?
If his wide power no limits can restrain,
Why is his hand so rarely spread to bless?
Why are his creatures all condemned to pain?
Why does he not to all give happiness?

Why do fraud, lies, and ignorance prevail?
Why triumphs falsehood, truth and justice fail?
I count your Brahma one of the unjust among,
Who made a world in which to shelter wrong.
Those men are counted pure who only kill
Frogs, worms, bees, snakes or insects as they will,
These are your savage customs which I hate,
Such as Kamboja hordes might emulate.
If he who kills is counted innocent
And if the victim safe to heaven is sent,
Let Brahmans Brahmans kill so all were well
And those who listen to the words they tell.


At best, God would have be more like the impassive and impersonal God of Aristotle, existing outside of time and space, to find a place within Buddhist cosmology. Nevertheless, even in the earliest parts of the Pali Canon, there are references to devas or what we might call 'heavenly beings.' However, devas (literally 'radiant ones'), which are often seen as gods when taken literally, are simply non-human beings who are more powerful and long-lived than ordinary humans, and are by no means eternal, omnipresent, omnipotent, etc. But more importantly, they can also be viewed metaphorically as the indulgent and hedonistic aspects of our psychology (i.e., the parts that are addicted to sensual pleasures).

In addition, according to AN 3.61, the belief in a supreme being can be unskillful and interfere with Dhamma practice if it leads to the belief that everything a person experiences is due to such a supreme being, a denial of the efficacy of kamma (literally 'action') and a life of inaction:

Having approached the priests & contemplatives who hold that... 'Whatever a person experiences... is all caused by a supreme being's act of creation,' I said to them: 'Is it true that you hold that... "Whatever a person experiences... is all caused by a supreme being's act of creation?"' Thus asked by me, they admitted, 'Yes.' Then I said to them, 'Then in that case, a person is a killer of living beings because of a supreme being's act of creation. A person is a thief... unchaste... a liar... a divisive speaker... a harsh speaker... an idle chatterer... greedy... malicious... a holder of wrong views because of a supreme being's act of creation.' When one falls back on creation by a supreme being as being essential, monks, there is no desire, no effort [at the thought], 'This should be done. This shouldn't be done.' When one can't pin down as a truth or reality what should & shouldn't be done, one dwells bewildered & unprotected. One cannot righteously refer to oneself as a contemplative. This was my second righteous refutation of those priests & contemplatives who hold to such teachings, such views.


Furthermore, in relation to the four noble truths and the practice of the noble eightfold path, the matter of the existence of God is irrelevant and, soteriologically speaking, a distraction to be avoided. Of course, this doesn't mean that people can't believe in God and still practice the Dhamma, especially some of its more contemplative aspects, but it does mean that, at the very least, such views can negatively impact the practice when held inappropriately.

In my opinion, Buddhism has always been what we might call a type of 'transcendent psychology,' and it's only been relatively recently (at least in the West) that its more technical terms have been understood and translated in ways that make this clear. I think this shift is due in no small part to the decades of excellent scholarship that's been brought to bear on the texts and the religious-historical context in which they took shape. As I mentioned all the way back in my first post, regardless of how it's been popularized, at its core, Buddhism deals exclusively with one subject, that of human mental suffering. The Buddha himself made it clear that:

Both formerly and now, monks, I declare only stress and the cessation of stress.


That's not to say there aren't 'supernatural' concepts in Buddhism, or that local customs, deities and religious practices haven't found their way into Buddhism wherever it's been established. But rather than a pure system of thought or a strictly faith-based worship of the supernatural, a critical analysis of the earliest texts reveals a much more pragmatic and specialized method of mental training than most traditional Buddhists and Western converts realize—one that seeks to diminish and even eliminate suffering by radically changing the way the mind relates to experience.

Whatever else this radical transformation may open one up to, I can't say, but I suspect that Thanissaro Bhikkhu's right when he says that we're "not committing spiritual suicide." The allegory of the cave in Plato's Republic immediately comes to mind here, where he uses the image of the philosopher turning the soul (mind) away from the darkness of the visible realm (samsara) towards the light of the form of the Good (nibbana). So, from this perspective, being an atheist, or even a theist for that matter, doesn't preclude one from practicing Buddhism so long as one has an open mind and is willing to at least give some of these teachings a chance.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

sexual misconduct

The five precepts are the basic training rules all Buddhists are encouraged to observe to the best of their ability. They constitute the basic level of virtue the Buddha advises is necessary for the peace of mind conducive to a successful practice, especially in regard to meditation, and they are seen as gifts "that are not open to suspicion, will never be open to suspicion, and are unfaulted by knowledgeable contemplatives & priests" (AN 8.39). While most of them are fairly straightforward, the third needs a bit more explanation seeing as it's somewhat vague.

To begin with, it should be made clear that the precepts aren't equivalent to commandments in that they're training rules that are voluntarily undertaken rather than edicts or commands dictated by a higher power and/or authority. In essence, these precepts are undertaken to protect oneself, as well as others, from the results of unskillful actions. Actions are considered unskillful when they arise out of the mental defilements of greed, hatred, and delusion and lead to self-affliction, to the affliction of others, or to both (MN 61).

In regard to Buddhist sexual ethics, the third precept states: "I undertake the precept to refrain from sexual misconduct." This, of course, will naturally lead one to the question, What is the definition of sexual misconduct? To answer that question, however, we must take into account the other four precepts. The five precepts are an integrated whole, and each precept helps to support the others. The other four precepts are (1) to refrain from harming living beings, (2) to refrain from taking what's not given, (3) to refrain from false speech, and (4) to refrain from taking intoxicants that lead to carelessness.

Therefore, generally speaking, we can say that sexual misconduct consists of any sexual conduct that involves violence, manipulation, and/or deceit, and it specifically includes sex with "those who are protected by their mothers, their fathers, their brothers, their sisters, their relatives, or their Dhamma [i.e., monastics who have taken vows of celibacy]; those with husbands [or wives], those who entail punishments [i.e., those protected by law, such as if they're underage], or even those crowned with flowers by another man [i.e., engaged]" (MN 41). As the Ven. S. Dhammika elaborates:

If we use trickery, emotional blackmail or force to compel someone to have sex with us, then this is sexual misconduct. Adultery is also a form of sexual misconduct because when we marry we promise our spouse that we will be loyal to them. When we commit adultery we break that promise and betray that trust. Sex should be an expression of love and intimacy between two people and when it is it contributes to our mental and emotional well-being.


So, to summarize, from what I've been taught by my teachers, as well as from what I've read in the suttas, sexual misconduct includes any sexual activity that leads to self-affliction, to the affliction of others, or to both, or that involves any person who's already in a committed relationship (e.g., engaged, married, etc.), protected by law (e.g., under age, etc.), or under religious vows entailing celibacy (e.g., monks, nuns, etc.). Hence in Theravada, sex between consenting persons of legal age who aren't already in committed relationships and haven't taken vows of celibacy isn't considered misconduct.

In regard to anal and oral sex, there's a prohibition against sex concerning "inappropriate orifices" (i.e. anal and oral) that can be found in Vasubandhu's Abhidharmakosabhasyam, as well as a few other Sarvastivadin texts, but there's no such prohibition found in any Theravadin source. The same goes for masturbation. These were most likely introduced by later commentators such as Vasubandhu.

Personally, I think that a lot of the views concerning marriage and sex are influenced more by cultural, religious and social norms than by any universal constant. And regardless of what any tradition of Buddhism has to say about, I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with sex or masturbation; although I do think that strong sexual desires can cause discomfort in the mind when in deep states of concentration, and can actually make it difficult to develop more refined states of mind in the first place.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

desire

People new to Buddhism often conflate desire (chandha) and craving (tahna), and this is partially the fault of translators, but desire and craving are actually two different but closely related aspects of our psychology. Desire is a neutral term, and one generally has to have the desire to achieve a goal in order to achieve it, even nibbana (SN 51.15); whereas the Pali word for craving, tahna (literally 'thirst'), is something that's directly tied to suffering.

The second noble truth states that the origination of suffering is "the craving 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].


Desire, on the other hand, can be skillful (kusala) or unskillful (akusala) depending on the context. The desire for happiness, especially long-term welfare and happiness, is actually an important part of the Buddhist path. Moreover, desire is listed as one of the four bases of power (iddhipada), which themselves are included in the seven sets of qualities that lead to the end of suffering (MN 103). The four qualities listed in the bases of power are desire, persistence, intent and discrimination. In Wings to Awakening, Thanissaro Bhikkhu points to this passage:

There is the case where a monk develops the base of power endowed with concentration founded on desire & the fabrications of exertion, thinking, 'This desire of mine will be neither overly sluggish nor overly active, neither inwardly restricted nor outwardly scattered.' (Similarly with concentration founded on persistence, intent, and discrimination.)


He goes on to explain that, "This passage shows that the problem lies not in the desire, effort, intent or discrimination, but in the fact that these qualities can be unskillfully applied or improperly tuned to their task." If we take a look at the exchange between Ananda and the brahmin Unnabha in SN 51.15, for example, we can see that the attainment of the goal is indeed achieved through desire, even though paradoxically, the goal is said to be the abandoning of desire. That's because at the end of the path desire, as well as the other three bases of power, subside on their own. As Ananda explains at the end of SN 51.15:

He earlier had the desire for the attainment of arahantship, and when he attained arahantship, the corresponding desire subsided. He earlier had aroused energy for the attainment of arahantship, and when he attained arahantship, the corresponding energy subsided. He earlier had made up his mind to attain arahantship, and when he attained arahantship, the corresponding resolution subsided. He earlier had made an investigation for the attainment of arahantship, and when he attained arahantship, the corresponding investigation subsided. (Bodhi)


So, in essence, desire can be beneficial in certain contexts, and one shouldn't be worried about the desire to do skillful things. Craving, on the other hand, is something that, by its very nature, conditions suffering through the way it encourages the mind to feed upon sensory experiences and either causes it to intensely cling to pleasant experiences or violently push away unpleasant ones. It may have helped us at some point in our evolution, but now it tends to do more harm than good.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

existentialism, stoicism and buddhism

Before reading this edited version of something I wrote a while back, please be forewarned that what you're about to read is undoubtedly flawed. I have a very limited understanding of Western philosophy in general, and I fully realize that what I present here isn't complete and probably incorrect in many respects. It is, more than anything, just a collection of thoughts that were inspired by a day of reading about Existentialism, Stoicism and Buddhism in relation to one particular paragraph. This was written for fun, and not intended to be taken as any sort of authority on the matter.

Until recently, Western philosophy wasn't one of my major interests, mainly because I didn't find much of it very interesting or useful. But lately, I've found myself increasingly drawn towards it, and that interest has grown out of my initial curiosity about the various 'isms' that people often compare to Buddhism. Out of these various philosophies and systems of thought, two have especially caught my attention—Stoicism and existentialism. These more than any of the others have elements that closely resemble ideas and concepts found within the Buddha's teachings.

Stoicism, for example, focuses on self-control, detachment, virtue, reason and finding inner peace by mastering human passion and emotions. Seneca's warning regarding "snares" in Moral Epistles closely parallels that of the Buddha in MN 26, and his admonishment regarding food, clothing and shelter closely parallels that of the Buddha in MN 2. From this, it's easy to see the resemblance and why people new to Buddhism often compare the two. When it comes to explanations of what Existentialism focuses on, however, I've found it difficult to find any consensus, and opinions on this seem to vary from person to person. This is a notoriously hard philosophy to pin down, apparently. Even so, I decided to do my best, and while I was researching existentialism in order to gain a better understanding of it, I came across this paragraph from The Existential Primer:

Siddharta Gautama was appalled by suffering and chaos in the world. So much so, he left his wife and son to meditate on the meaning of everything. Unfortunately, he didn’t find answers among the gurus. There were no easy answers. In some ways, yes, Siddharta experienced an "existential" discovery: life is suffering.

But, Siddharta did not follow the existential notion of rebelling or fighting to establish a meaning. He did not openly challenge people and political leaders. Instead, he took a different approach:

When he met his first disciples at Benares after his enlightenment, the Buddha outlines his system, which was based on one essential fact: all existence was dukkha. It consisted entirely of suffering; life was wholly awry. Things come and go in meaningless flux. Nothing has permanent significance. Religion starts with the perception that something is wrong. […] The Buddha taught that is was possible to gain release from dukkha by living a life of compassion for all living beings, speaking and behaving gently, kindly and accurately, and refraining from anything like drugs or intoxicants that cloud the mind. - A History of God; Armstrong, p. 32


Unlike the existentialists, Siddharta is a stoic in nature: accept things as they are, don’t try to change them or control them. Curiously, this is rebellious in that it rejects social norms. Siddharta was rejecting the Hindu teachings of his time, much as Kierkegaard challenged the ritualized nature of Christianity. But, Siddharta was not an active rebel. He was, in many ways, teaching a passive resistance that the existentialists would reject.


In regard to this paragraph, I don't think it's fair to say that the Buddha wasn't existential because he was stoic—simply accepting things as they are, not trying to change them or control them in any way. In fact, this might not even be a fair characterization of the Stoics. While it's difficult to put the goal of the Buddha's path into words — as the limits of human language fail to express what's beyond conceptualization and conditions — I don't think Buddhism is accurately describe as stoic as described above, although the two certainly share similar elements between them. For one thing, the Buddha taught that the end of suffering was attainable, that nibbana — the cessation of greed, hatred and delusions — could be experienced here and now, provided that one put forth the right effort in the right direction by following what called the noble eightfold path.

The problem of suffering as seen in Buddhism is that when we suffer, we become bewildered as to why we are suffering, and then we look for a way out—except we look in all the wrong places because we're confused about what suffering is, as well as what true happiness is. That's why the Buddha developed the four noble truths and formulated them in the same way that ancient Indian physicians formulated medical diagnoses (i.e., disease, cause, prognosis and treatment), so that we're able to comprehend suffering, abandon its cause, realize its cessation and develop the path to that cessation. Contrary to what C. S. Wyatt writes above, the Buddha was very much trying to change things via a process of self-transformation, going against the stream of craving in the form of renunciation (Iti 114).

From the Buddhist perspective, many of the assumptions we make about ourselves and our experience of the world, particularly our attachment to views and doctrines of self, keep us rooted in "perceptions and categories of objectification" that continually assail us and our mental well-being (MN 18), and passive acceptance of these faulty assumptions only serves to perpetuate them. The Buddha termed this mental process of conditionality by which suffering arises dependent co-arising (paticca-samuppada), and it's intimately tied into our sense of self, or ego if you prefer.

In fact, when looked at closely, the teachings on dependent co-arising, the five clinging-aggregates (panca-upadana-khandha) and not-self (anatta) are quite insightful in that they're the parts of Buddhism that correspond to parts of modern psychology. For one thing, they basically detail the process by which we construct our sense of self and, ultimately, how to utilize that process in more skillful ways.

The aggregates themselves, for example, aren't simply descriptions of what constitutes a human being as some people mistakenly think—they're one of the many ways of looking at and dividing up experience that we find throughout the Pali Canon (e.g., aggregates, elements, six sense-media, etc.). But more importantly, they represent the most discernible aspects of our experience on top of which we construct our sense of self in a process of, as the Buddha called it, "I-making" and "my-making" (e.g., MN 109).

The first noble truth states that, in short, the five clinging-aggregate are dukkha (SN 56.11), i.e., it's the clinging in reference to the aggregates that's dukkha, not the aggregates themselves. But what does this really mean? To start with, according to the commentaries, dukkha is defined as 'that which is hard to bear.' In MN 9, clinging is defined as:

"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.


In addition, the Buddha said that the five clinging-aggregates are not-self. He called them a burden, the taking up of which is "the craving that makes for further becoming" and the casting off of which is "the remainderless fading & cessation, renunciation, relinquishment, release, & letting go of that very craving" (SN 22.22). The way I understand it, becoming (bhava) is a mental process, which arises due to the presence of clinging (upadana) in the mind with regard to the five-clinging aggregates, and acts as a condition for the birth (jati) of the conceit 'I am,' the self-identification that designates a being (satta).

Put more simply, 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.

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, 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.

These attachments, particularly our attachment to views and doctrines of self, keep us rooted in "perceptions and categories of objectification" that continually assail our mental well-being. Thus, with the presence of clinging, the aggregates have the potential to become suffering (i.e., 'difficult to bear') when our sense of self encounters inconstancy. That's why the Buddha taught that whatever is inconstant is stressful, and whatever is stressful is not-self:

"What do you think, monks — Is form [same with feeling, perception, fabrications and consciousness] constant or inconstant?"

"Inconstant, lord."

"And is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful?"

"Stressful, lord."

"And is it fitting to regard what is inconstant, stressful, subject to change as: 'This is mine. This is my self. This is what I am'?"

"No, lord."

Thus, monks, any form [same with feeling, perception, fabrications and consciousness] whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near: every form is to be seen as it actually is with right discernment as: 'This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am.'


In order to break down the conceptual idea of a self (i.e., that which is satisfactory, permanent and completely subject to our control) in relation to the various aspects of our experience that we falsely cling to as 'me' or 'mine,' we must essentially take this [analytical] knowledge, along with a specific set of practices such as meditation, as a stepping stone to what I can only describe as a profound psychological event that radically changes the way the mind relates to experience.

This may be a bit of nonsense, but in one of the ways I like to look at it, the conventional viewpoint (sammuti sacca) explains things through subject, verb and object whereas the ultimate viewpoint (paramattha sacca) explains things through verb alone. In essence, things are being viewed from the perspective of activities and processes. This, I think, is incredibly difficult to see, but perhaps what happens here is that once self-identity view (sakkaya-ditthi) is removed, the duality of subject and object is also removed, thereby revealing the level of mere conditional phenomena, i.e., dependent co-arising in action.

This mental process is 'seen,' ignorance is replaced by knowledge and vision of things as they are (yatha-bhuta-nana-dassana), and nibbana, then, would be the 'letting go' of what isn't self through the dispassion (viraga) invoked in seeing the inconstant (anicca) and stressful (dukkha) nature of clinging to false refuges that are neither fixed nor stable (anatta). And without the presence of clinging in regard to the aggregates, they cease to be 'difficult to bear.'

Stoicism, on the other hand, has similar teachings, such as the development of self-control can lead to the overcoming of destructive/violent emotions. It also shares with Buddhism a strong focus on ethics, ethics that have their basis in 'natural laws' or patterns. At first glance, there seems to be little to distinguish the two until we come to the seemingly inherent contradiction between determinism and free will in the Stoic's doctrine of virtue (see Bertrand Russell's A History of Western Philosophy, pg. 254-255), and this is where I think Buddhism really distances itself from Stoicism.

The Buddha essentially took the position that we, as sentient beings, have functional choice via intention (cetana) operating within a broader framework of causality that conditions the choices available to us at any given time. As one erudite poster from dhammawheel.com put it:

Functional choice isn't independent of other causes and conditions — it operates within the same conditioned mind-stream. But it does operate, and it does so in consort with desire and attention, etc. Hence there is no need for Cartesian notions of free will or Upanisadic notions of a permanent, unchanging Self for there to be functional choice. In fact, these non-Buddhist systems are not sustainable precisely because of the interdependence of phenomena: i.e. an unchanging agent cannot engage in actions, etc.


Nevertheless, the Buddha taught that one can actively transcend this process of conditionality — that one can 'touch the deathless' in an experience that's unable to be satisfactorily expressed in words — and this is directly opposed to the idea that Buddhism simply boils down to the sheer acceptance of things as they are. The same can possibly be argued of Stoicism as well.

While a complete overview of Buddhist philosophy isn't possible to explain in such a brief comparison — as it'd have to include such time consuming topics as kamma, rebirth, emptiness, nibbana and what they mean in relation to suffering and the end of suffering — I think it's clear from this short description that the Buddha wasn't 'stoic' in the sense that he taught one should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief by being passive and submissive to these natural laws or patterns of conditionality, but that one can and should transcend them altogether.

As for Existentialism, I think Buddhism is actually quite similar to that as well. As one person aptly put it:

"Enlightenment" is to eventually realize that all conceptions of the Self are simply that, mere conceptions, illusory, not the "Thing in Itself". In order to find the Self, one must give up being attached to any particular concept of the Self. In other words, its a way to see Reality as it is, without being attached to concepts of Reality.

This is why Buddhism is essentially Non-theistic, but in an Agnostic manner. It was basically an historical reaction to Hinduism which had developed very complex conceptions of the Self, but it is also complementary to Hinduism (or, as [Jason] points out, other local religions).

Some might suggest that Buddhism says that there is no Self, but I see it more as stating that there is no Ultimate Model of the Self. Thus it becomes a sort of philosophical dialectic, not merely in opposition to conceptualization, but in balance with it.


I think that out of the underlying concepts of Existentialism, or at least those that are put forward by C. S. Wyatt in the above article, one of the main reasons Buddhism shouldn't be considered 'existentialist' is the fact that the Buddha taught there are 'universal' (as in applying to all equally) guidelines for most decisions. This forms the basis of his teachings on kamma, the basic premise being there's a cause and effect relationship between our actions and how they're experienced. As Thanissaro Bhikkhu puts it, "It's simply the fact of action—you do something unskillful, it's going to come back in an unpleasant way." In the same way, if you do something skillful, it's going to come back in a pleasant way.

In the Suttas, the Buddha defines kamma as intentional actions of body, speech and mind (AN 6.63) that have the potential to produce certain results, which, in turn, have the potential to produce pleasant, painful or neutral feelings (AN 4.235). The word itself simply means 'action.'

Pragmatically speaking, actions are deemed 'unskillful' (akusala) if they lead to to self-affliction, to the affliction of others or to both. Actions that don't lead to self-affliction, to the affliction of others or to both are deemed 'skillful' (kusala) (MN 61). Therefore, the distinction between skillful and unskillful actions is based upon how their results are experienced—not only by us, but by others as well. (This emphasis on the consequential aspect of actions is similar to Jeremy Bentham's teleological utilitarianism, with John Stuart Mill's idea of higher and lower happiness being similar to the Buddha's distinction between long-term and short-term welfare and happiness.)

Psychologically speaking, however, the quality of the intentions behind the actions is what ultimately determines whether they're unskillful or skillful. (This aspect is closer to Kant's deontological categorical imperative when combined with the Buddhist principle of ahimsa or harmlessness.) Intentional actions rooted in greed, hatred or delusion produce painful mental feelings "like those of the beings in hell," while intentional actions rooted in non-greed, non-hatred and non-delusion produce the opposite ("like those of the Beautiful Black Devas"). Then there are acts rooted in both that bring mixed results "like those of human beings, some devas, and some beings in the lower realms" (AN 4.235). By bringing kamma to an end, however, the mind is said to become free and undisturbed. This, I think, is also the essence of the famous passage from Leo Tolstoy's letter, "To the Working People":

People fare badly only because they themselves live badly. And there is no more injurious thought for people than that the causes of the wretchedness of their position is not in themselves, but in external conditions. A man or a society of men need but imagine that the evil experienced by them is due to external conditions and to direct their attention and efforts to the change of these external conditions, and the evil will be increased. But a man or a society of men need but sincerely direct their attention to themselves, and in themselves and their lives look for the causes of that evil from which they suffer, in order that these causes may be at once found and destroyed.


In conclusion, while I think there are valid reasons why the Buddha shouldn't be considered stoic or existential in nature, even though there are many similarities between them, it's unfair to say that the Buddha wasn't an active rebel, or that he was passive by any means. The Buddha actively rebelled against craving, against the assumptions we make about ourselves and our experience of the world and against the natural flow of worldly life itself. Instead of merely accepting things as they are, he gave up everything he was supposed to hold dear in order to discover a cure for what he believed to be the ultimate disease, human mental suffering.

In that search, he challenged everything from his assumptions, experiences and those of his companions, to society's ideas of what's truly valuable. He challenged everything until he was finally able to find a cure for this suffering, and then out of compassion, taught what he had discovered to those who were willing to listen. While the Buddha may not have openly challenged political leaders, he certainly didn't accept things as they are—he simply sought to change them from within.