practical morality?

Interesting debate between Sam Harris and William Craig on the subject of moral truths and values:

 

Some tentative thoughts: I think Craig really trips himself up when he uses his own God = good tautology after criticizing Harris for playing semantic games and accusing him of using a tautology.

I also think it's interesting that Harris' reply at 1:50-52 is somewhat similar to the Buddha's reply to King Pasenadi in SN 3.8, which essentially gives the underlying basis for Buddhist morality (especially in regard to the principle of ahimsa or 'harmlessness').

This basis or argument for morality focuses on the moral character of the individual and revolves around seeing our desires for happiness and freedom from pain in all living creatures, particularly human beings. The essential premise here being that there's no one that's as dear to us as ourselves, that all sentient beings essentially want to be happy in their own way (according to their specific capacities), and that this is a fairly decent and logical reason to desire their happiness and well-being as well as our own. The reasoning is fairly simple. If our happiness and well-being comes at the expense of theirs, they'll do everything in their power to upset that happiness.

Conversely, if they were to infringe upon ours, wouldn't it follow that we'd do everything in our power to upset theirs? Looking at it from this perspective, where insecurity dominates the moral playing field (like never knowing if your doctor is going to cut you up in order to help five other patients), a world with moral security not only seems more desirable, but more conducive to the flourishing of conscious beings. Moreover, the former promotes a vicious circle of retribution, and one of the ways to break this circle is an ethical framework that takes the happiness and general well-being of others into consideration, which is one of the things that Harris seems to be promoting (although for slightly different reasons).

Of course, I don't think this presents an 'objective' basis for morality, but it certain seems like a practical one.

free will revisited: conventional vs. ultimate vs. pragmatic

The question of free will often comes up in Buddhism, and there appears to be a wide range of opinions on the matter. The majority of opinions, however, seem to boil down to two main positions based upon whether one takes a predominately Sutta-based approach — which some say is only valid from the standpoint of conventional or commonly accepted truths (sammuti-sacca) — or an Abhidhamma-based approach — which supposedly contains expositions valid from the standpoint of ultimate truths (paramattha-sacca) — to the question.

For example, from the conventional point of view, we definitely seem to have at least some level of functional choice via intention (cetana) operating within the broader framework of causality that conditions the choices available to us at any given point in 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.

This is somewhat similar to how many teachers approach the issue of free will, particularly from a predominately Sutta-based point of view, such as the Venerable Thanissaro, e.g.,:

In the course of his Awakening, the Buddha discovered that the experience of the present moment consists of three factors: results from past actions, present actions, and the results of present actions. This means that kamma acts in feedback loops, with the present moment being shaped both by past and by present actions; while present actions shape not only the present but also the future. This constant opening for present input into the causal processes shaping one's life makes free will possible. In fact, will — or intention — forms the essence of action. Furthermore, the quality of the intention determines the quality of the act and of its results. On the mundane level there are three types of intentions: skillful, leading to pleasant results; unskillful, leading to painful results; and mixed, leading to mixed results, all these results being experienced within the realm of space and time. However, the fact that the experience of space and time requires not only the results of past actions but also the input of present actions means that it is possible to unravel the experience of space and time by bringing the mind to a point of equilibrium where it contributes no intentions or actions to the present moment. The intentions that converge at this equilibrium are thus a fourth type of intention — transcendent skillful intentions — which lead to release from the results of mundane intentions, and ultimately to the ending of all action. (Introduction to the Itivuttaka)

For the early Buddhists, karma was non-linear. Other Indian schools believed that karma operated in a straight line, with actions from the past influencing the present, and present actions influencing the future. As a result, they saw little room for free will. Buddhists, however, saw that karma acts in feedback loops, with the present moment being shaped both by past and by present actions; present actions shape not only the future but also the present. This constant opening for present input into the causal process makes free will possible. This freedom is symbolized in the imagery the Buddhists used to explain the process: flowing water. Sometimes the flow from the past is so strong that little can be done except to stand fast, but there are also times when the flow is gentle enough to be diverted in almost any direction. ("Karma")

Although the precise working out of the kammic process is somewhat unpredictable, it is not chaotic. The relationship between kammic causes and their effects is entirely regular: when an action is of the sort that it will be felt in such and such a way, that is how its result will be experienced [§13]. Skillful intentions lead to favorable results, unskillful ones to unfavorable results. Thus, when one participates in the kammic process, one is at the mercy of a pattern that one's actions put into motion, but that is not entirely under one's present control. Despite the power of the mind, one cannot reshape the basic laws of cosmic causality at whim. These laws include the physical laws, within which one's kamma must ripen and work itself out. This is the point of passage [§14], in which the Buddha explains that present pain can be explained not only by past kamma but also by a host of other factors; the list of alternative factors he gives comes straight from the various causes for pain that were recognized in the medical treatises of his time. If we compare this list with his definition of old kamma in [§15], we see that many if not all of the alternative causes are actually the result of past actions. The point here is that old kamma does not override other causal factors operating in the universe — such as those recognized by the physical sciences — but instead finds its expression within them.

However, the fact that the kammic process relies on input from the present moment means that it is not totally deterministic. Input from the past may place restrictions on what can be done and known in any particular moment, but the allowance for new input from the present provides some room for free will. This allowance also opens the possibility for escape from the cycle of kamma altogether by means of the fourth type of kamma: the development of heightened skillfulness through the pursuit of the seven factors for Awakening and the noble eightfold path — and, by extension, all of the Wings to Awakening [§§16-17].

The non-linearity of this/that conditionality explains why heightened skillfulness, when focused on the present moment, can succeed in leading to the end of the kamma that has formed the experience of the entire cosmos. All non-linear processes exhibit what is called scale invariance, which means that the behavior of the process on any one scale is similar to its behavior on smaller or larger scales. To understand, say, the large-scale pattern of a particular non-linear process, one need only focus on its behavior on a smaller scale that is easier to observe, and one will see the same pattern at work. In the case of kamma, one need only focus on the process of kamma in the immediate present, in the course of developing heightened skillfulness, and the large-scale issues over the expanses of space and time will become clear as one gains release from them. (Wings to Awakening)

This view is based on a very simplistic understanding of fabricated reality, seeing causality as linear and totally predictable: X causes Y which causes Z and so on, with no effects turning around to condition their causes, and no possible way of using causality to escape from the causal network. However, one of the many things the Buddha discovered in the course of his awakening was that causality is not linear. The experience of the present is shaped both by actions in the present and by actions in the past. Actions in the present shape both the present and the future. The results of past and present actions continually interact. Thus there is always room for new input into the system, which gives scope for free will. There is also room for the many feedback loops that make experience so thoroughly complex, and that are so intriguingly described in chaos theory. Reality doesn't resemble a simple line or circle. It's more like the bizarre trajectories of a strange attractor or a Mandelbrot set. ("Samsara Divided by Zero")

And I think this approach to the issue is especially helpful from a pragmatic standpoint when it comes to the practice itself, since it promotes an active attitude and gives the practitioner the idea that they have the ability to make skillful decisions over unskillful ones.

On a deeper, more theoretical level, however, one might ask how volition/intention/will/etc. is possible without a self, especially when it's argued that there must be some kind active agency for free will to exist. This, of course, conflicts with the Abhidhammic position, which labels volition (cetana) as one of the 52 mental factors "common to all classes of consciousness," but rejects the existence of any kind of self or independent agency whatsoever.

It seems like a paradox, but only from the Western philosophical idea of 'free will.' Classical Theravada, on the other hand, views free will more or less as an illusion, and instead takes a more casually determined view of volition.

Conventionally speaking, we appear to have functional choice via intention operating within a broader framework of causality that conditions the choices available to us at any given time. However, on a deeper level, intention itself is a product of the aggregate of mental formations (sankhara-khandha). Therefore, being a product or process within one of the aggregates, which themselves are types of processes and not-self (anatta), this type of internal decision maker or will-to-do, if you will, has its own requisite conditions and is also not-self, since whatever is conditioned and subject to change can't be said to have an unchanging essence or being.

In essence, volition itself isn't an illusion, it's simply not the result of an independent agent or self; and it, like everything else in the world, is ultimately the result causally determined processes. True free will requires an independent agent, and Buddhism effectively rejects such an agency. And while I tend to take a more moderate position myself, Buddhism is entirely compatible with causal determinism.

For example, Dhammanando Bhikkhu once gave me the example of a mosquito biting you on the nose: first you feel annoyed and want to squash it, but then you recall that you're a precept-observing Buddhist and so restrain yourself.

He explained that when this event is described in conventional terms, or according to the Sutta method, it might be said that you had a choice to kill the mosquito or to refrain, and that you chose the latter. But when it's described according to the Abhidhamma method, your abstention from killing wasn't due to choice but to the arising of kusala cetasikas (wholesome mental factors) such as moral shame and fear of wrong-doing (hiri & ottappa), and abstinence (virati), i.e., it was causally determined.

And then there are passages like this from the Dhammasangani (pp. 7-8):

What on that occasion is volition (cetana)? The volition, purpose, purposefulness, which is born of contact with the appropriate element of representative intellection - that is the volition that there then is.

And the Atthasalini, pp.147-148:

Volition is that which co-ordinates, that is, it binds closely (abhisandahati) to itself associated states as objects. This is its characteristic; its function is conation. There is no such thing as volition in the four planes of existence without the characteristic of co-ordinating; all volition has it. But the function of conation is only in moral and immoral states; as regards activity in moral and immoral acts, the remaining associated states play only a restricted part. But volition is exceedingly energetic. It makes double effort, double exertion. Hence the Ancients said: 'Volition is like the nature of a landowner, a cultivator who, taking fifty-five strong men, went down to the fields to reap. He was exceedingly energetic and exceedingly strenuous; he doubled his strength, he doubled his effort, and said, "Take your sickles," and so forth, pointed out the portion to be reaped, offered them drink, food, scent, flowers, etc., and took an equal share of the work.' Volition is like the cultivator; the fifty-five moral states which arise as factors of consciousness are like the fifty-five strong men; like the time of doubling strength, doubling effort by the cultivator is the doubled strength, double effort of volition as regards activity in moral and immoral acts. Thus should conation as its function be understood.

It has directing as manifestation. It arises directing associated states, like the chief disciple, the chief carpenter, etc., who fulfil their own and others' duties... even so, when volition starts work on its object, it sets associated states to do each its own work. For when it puts forth energy, they also put forth energy... It is also evident that it arises by causing associated states to be energetic in such things as recollecting an urgent work and so forth.

Incidentally, I think the Abhidhammic position accords well with what neuroscientist Sam Harris writes about the illusion of free will here, here and here. And even in the Suttas, there are teachings that evidence elements of casual determinism, lending support to the Abhidhammic position. I find AN 11.2 interesting, for example, in that it seems to show how certain wholesome mental factors (kusala cetasikas) condition certain wholesome qualities and experiences.

In the end, however, I don't feel that I'll ever have a satisfactory understanding of the issue; but I do see how each view can be useful depending upon where one is along the path, and what tools will be the most effective at that stage. Ultimately, the Buddha's approach to life's problems is pragmatic, serving a practical purpose that's subjectively beneficial regardless of their objective validity, and I think that point should always be kept in mind unless one becomes hopelessly lost within the proverbial 'thicket of views.'

do the five realms really exist?

Do the five (sometimes six) realms really exist? It's an interesting question. One reason is that the Buddhist idea of 'worlds' or 'realms' (loka) can be taken both literally (i.e., as external realms of existence) and metaphorically (i.e., as mental states).

They're definitely real in the sense of various pleasant and unpleasant mental states that we mentally take birth into, which is something we can easily observe for ourselves. For example, BuddhaNet's introductory essay, "Introduction to Buddhism," gives a good explanation of the realms in this way:

If ego decides it likes the situation, it begins to churn up all sorts of ways to possess it. A craving to consume the situation arises and we long to satisfy that craving. Once we do, a ghost of that craving carries over and we look around for something else to consume. We get into the habitual pattern of becoming consumer oriented. Perhaps we order a piece of software for our computer. We play with it for awhile, until the novelty wears out, and then we look around for the next piece of software that has the magic glow of not being possessed yet. Soon we haven't even got the shrink wrap off the current package when we start looking for the next one. Owning the software and using it doesn't seem to be as important as wanting it, looking forward to its arrival. This is known as the hungry ghost realm where we have made an occupation out of craving. We can never find satisfaction, it is like drinking salt water to quench our thirst.

Another realm is the animal realm, or having the mind like that of an animal. Here we find security by making certain that everything is totally predictable. We only buy blue chip stock, never take a chance and never look at new possibilities. The thought of new possibilities frightens us and we look with scorn at anyone who suggests anything innovative. This realm is characterised by ignorance. We put on blinders and only look straight ahead, never to the right or left.

The hell realm is characterised by acute aggression. We build a wall of anger between ourselves and our experience. Everything irritates us, even the most innocuous, and innocent statement drives us mad with anger. The heat of our anger is reflected back on us and sends us into a frenzy to escape from our torture, which in turn causes us to fight even harder and get even angrier. The whole thing builds on itself until we don't even know if we're fighting with someone else or ourselves. We are so busy fighting that we can't find an alternative to fighting; the possibility of alternative never even occurs to us.

These are the three lower realms. One of the three higher realms is called the jealous god realm. This pattern of existence is characterised by acute paranoia. We are always concerned with "making it". Everything is seen from a competitive point of view. We are always trying to score points, and trying to prevent others from scoring on us. If someone achieves something special we become determined to out do them. We never trust anyone; we "know" they're trying to slip one past us. If someone tries to help us, we try to figure out their angle. If someone doesn't try to help us, they are being uncooperative, and we make a note to ourselves that we will get even later. "Don't get mad, get even," that's our motto.

At some point we might hear about spirituality. We might hear about the possibility of meditation techniques, imported from some eastern religion, or mystical western one, that will make our minds peaceful and absorb us into a universal harmony. We begin to meditate and perform certain rituals and we find ourselves absorbed into infinite space and blissful states of existence. Everything sparkles with love and light; we become godlike beings. We become proud of our godlike powers of meditative absorption. We might even dwell in the realm of infinite space where thoughts seldom arise to bother us. We ignore everything that doesn't confirm our godhood. We have manufactured the god realm, the highest of the six realms of existence. The problem is, that we have manufactured it. We begin to relax and no longer feel the need to maintain our exalted state. Eventually a small sliver of doubt occurs. Have we really made it? At first we are able to smooth over the question, but eventually the doubt begins to occur more and more frequently and soon we begin to struggle to regain our supreme confidence. As soon as we begin to struggle, we fall back into the lower realms and begin the whole process over and over; from god realm to jealous god realm to animal realm to hungry ghost realm to hell realm. At some point we begin to wonder if there isn't some sort of alternative to our habitual way of dealing with the world. This is the human realm.

The human realm is the only one in which liberation from the six states of existence is possible. The human realm is characterised by doubt and inquisitiveness and the longing for something better. We are not as absorbed by the all consuming preoccupations of the other states of being. We begin to wonder whether it is possible to relate to the world as simple, dignified human beings.

And this psychological interpretation is supported by the suttas themselves. For example, we find passages like these in AN 4.235 (notice the qualifier 'like'):

And what is kamma that is dark with dark result? There is the case where a certain person fabricates an injurious bodily fabrication, fabricates an injurious verbal fabrication, fabricates an injurious mental fabrication. Having fabricated an injurious bodily fabrication, having fabricated an injurious verbal fabrication, having fabricated an injurious mental fabrication, he rearises in an injurious world. On rearising in an injurious world, he is there touched by injurious contacts. Touched by injurious contacts, he experiences feelings that are exclusively painful, like those of the beings in hell. This is called kamma that is dark with dark result.

And what is kamma that is bright with bright result? There is the case where a certain person fabricates a non-injurious bodily fabrication ... a non-injurious verbal fabrication ... a non-injurious mental fabrication ... He rearises in a non-injurious world ... There he is touched by non-injurious contacts ... He experiences feelings that are exclusively pleasant, like those of the Beautiful Black Devas. This is called kamma that is bright with bright result.

As for the literal existence of these realms, I can't say. It's certainly possible, and it's often fun to speculate about them (I've even heard stories of people who could see beings from these others realms); but I think it's more useful to focus on what we can experience for ourselves in the here and now, and use our practice to try and transcend these mental realms in order to find a true and lasting happiness inside.

self vs. volition: the illusion of free will

It's often asked how volition/intention/will/etc. is possible without a self, especially, they argue, when there must be some kind active agency for free will to exist. This, of course, conflicts with the Theravadin Abhidhamma, which labels volition (cetana) as one of the 52 mental factors that are "common to all classes of consciousness," but rejects the existence of any kind of self or independent agency.

It seems like a paradox, but only from the Western philosophical idea of 'free will.' Classical Theravada, on the other hand, views free will more or less as an illusion, and instead takes a more casually determined view of volition.

Conventionally speaking, we appear to have functional choice via intention operating within a broader framework of causality that conditions the choices available to us at any given time. However, on a deeper level, intention itself is a product of the aggregate of mental formations (sankharakhandha). Therefore, being a product or process within one of the aggregates, which themselves are types of processes and not-self (anatta), this type of internal decision maker or will-to-do, if you will, has its own requisite conditions and is also not-self, since whatever is conditioned and subject to change can't be said to have an unchanging essence or being.

In essence, volition itself isn't an illusion, it's simply not the result of an independent agent or self; and it, like everything else in the world, is ultimately the result causally determined processes. True free will requires an independent agent, and Buddhism effectively rejects such an agency. And while I tend to take a more moderate position myself, Buddhism is entirely compatible with causal determinism.

For example, Dhammanando Bhikkhu once gave me the example of a mosquito biting you on the nose: first you feel annoyed and want to squash it, but then you recall that you're a precept-observing Buddhist and so restrain yourself.

He explained that when this event is described in conventional terms, or according to the Sutta method, it might be said that you had a choice to kill the mosquito or to refrain, and that you chose the latter. But when it's described according to the Abhidhamma method, your abstention from killing wasn't due to choice but to the arising of kusala cetasikas (wholesome mental factors) such as moral shame and fear of wrong-doing (hiri & ottappa), and abstinence (virati), i.e., it was causally determined.

And then there are passages like this from the Dhammasangani (pp. 7-8):

What on that occasion is volition (cetana)? The volition, purpose, purposefulness, which is born of contact with the appropriate element of representative intellection - that is the volition that there then is.

And the Atthasalini, pp.147-148:

Volition is that which co-ordinates, that is, it binds closely (abhisandahati) to itself associated states as objects. This is its characteristic; its function is conation. There is no such thing as volition in the four planes of existence without the characteristic of co-ordinating; all volition has it. But the function of conation is only in moral and immoral states; as regards activity in moral and immoral acts, the remaining associated states play only a restricted part. But volition is exceedingly energetic. It makes double effort, double exertion. Hence the Ancients said: 'Volition is like the nature of a landowner, a cultivator who, taking fifty-five strong men, went down to the fields to reap. He was exceedingly energetic and exceedingly strenuous; he doubled his strength, he doubled his effort, and said, "Take your sickles," and so forth, pointed out the portion to be reaped, offered them drink, food, scent, flowers, etc., and took an equal share of the work.' Volition is like the cultivator; the fifty-five moral states which arise as factors of consciousness are like the fifty-five strong men; like the time of doubling strength, doubling effort by the cultivator is the doubled strength, double effort of volition as regards activity in moral and immoral acts. Thus should conation as its function be understood.

It has directing as manifestation. It arises directing associated states, like the chief disciple, the chief carpenter, etc., who fulfil their own and others' duties... even so, when volition starts work on its object, it sets associated states to do each its own work. For when it puts forth energy, they also put forth energy... It is also evident that it arises by causing associated states to be energetic in such things as recollecting an urgent work and so forth.

Incidentally, I think the Abhidhammic position accords well with what neuroscientist Sam Harris writes about the illusion of free will here, here and here.

buddhism: ontology or process philosophy?

From my reading of the Pali Canon, it seems to me that the Buddha's teachings generally tend to avoid metaphysics, including ontology, in favour of a pragmatic approach to understanding mental stress and suffering (dukkha) and removing its causes (e.g., see MN 63). If anything, I'd say Buddhism is closer to something like process philosophy in Western philosophical terminology, where the focus is on processes or becoming rather than unchanging being or essence, e.g., Heraclitus vs. Plato; anicca + anatta vs. atman; or anything else that looks at change vs. essence.

Essentially (for those less familiar with these concepts), if something is impermanent, it means that it's subject to change, whereas that which has a permanent being or essence isn't. In other words, becoming (or any process of change) is only possible within the context of impermanence. In the examples I gave above, the former are examples of things dealing with processes or becoming, while the latter are things dealing with unchanging being or essence.

For example, Heraclitus, if we're to believe Plato, is famous for his idea that "everything flows," whereas Plato is famous for his idea of eternal forms. In the second example, the Buddha taught that what we mistakenly cling to as 'self' is really only impermanent phenomena subject to arising, changing, and passing away, whereas the Vedas and Upanishads are general understood to teach that our self is something real and eternal, something that is.

So strict ontology deals more with what inherently is or exists from its own side (i.e., being or essence), whereas the basic idea behind process philosophy is that what 'exists' is best understood in terms of processes rather than things or substances, and that change — whether physical, organic or psychological — "is the pervasive and predominant feature of the real." As such, it's sometimes called 'ontology of becoming.'

Of course, in Buddhism, becoming (bhava) refers more to the sense of identity that arises when there's clinging to one or more of the aggregates, but the basic idea is that our sense of self is a process of 'I-making' and 'my-making,' which I think can be classified as a type of process philosophy. The only area of metaphysics the Buddha does engage in is causality; but even here, he doesn't offer proofs so much as suggests that adopting these views in a pragmatic, common sense manner is empirically useful in the quest to end suffering. Hence, Buddhism avoids many of the metaphysical quandaries, including questions of ontology, that seem to plague other philosophical/religious traditions.

a new perspective on the middle way?

Most people know Buddhism as the middle way between the two extremes of self-mortification and self-indulgence, but I think David Kalupahana offers an interesting perspective when he concludes in A History of Buddhist Philosophy that:

"Whereas Sanjaya [a skeptic and original teacher of Sariputta and Maha-Mogallana] was reluctant to make any positive pronouncements through fear of falling into error, the Buddha was willing to recognize the limitations of human knowledge and provide a reasonable description of truth and reality without reaching out for ultimate objectivity. This approach allowed him to avoid any ontological or metaphysical commitments and deal with language in a more meaningful way. For these reasons, he refrained from either raising or answering questions relating to ultimate origins or destinies, questions that had haunted Indian philosophers for centuries...
"If Absolutism is the result of reaching out for ultimate objectivity in philosophical discourse, and if extreme skepticism is the reason for the failure of such an enterprise, the Buddha, in his explanation of human experience, seems to have renounced the search for such objectivity and confined himself to a middle way, thereby renouncing both Absolutism and extreme skepticism." (21)

This idea is explained in more detail later on when he discusses (1) sense experiences and (2) yogic experiences:

"Fourth, his realization that ultimate regarding the object itself cannot be achieved and that the human perspective is unavoidable is underscored by his statement regarding the initial stage of sense experience, that is to say, "depending upon the visual organ and the visible object arises visual consciousness." Where can a philosopher go to determine the nature of the object while avoiding the consciousness of the object? If consciousness is not a tabula rasa but part of the psychophysical personality and hence conditioned by previous experiences, there are many other elements that will enter the scene when a decision is made regarding the object. It is to explain the complex nature of consciousness, while at the same time allowing for the retention of some measure of objectivity of the object, that the Buddha underscores the dependence of consciousness on the sense organ and the object. Furthermore, there is no suggestion of epi-phenomenalism, that is, that consciousness is a byproduct of matter, and therefore generated at each moment as a result of the contact between the sense and the object." (33)

"This is an extremely important reflection [referring to the passage in DN 2 concerning "insight knowledge"], following immediately after the fourth preliminary stage of contemplation (jhana), which, as mentioned earlier, has been wrongly interpreted as a state where all discursive and initial thought are abandoned. It is an unequivocal statement that some of the so-called higher forms of knowledge pertain to the nature of the physical body, the inalienable part of the human personality. It refers not only to the source and nature of the physical personality but also to the fact that there is consciousness associated with it, which makes it a complete person.
"Against the background of the theories of the six heterodox teachers referred to in Chapter 1, this description of the human person is significant. While the heterodox teachers attempted to provide an objective explanation of the human personality by focusing on either the physical body or physical actions, which they felt to be easily and objectively identifiable, the Buddha here introduced consciousness as an inalienable part of the human personality, even though it is not so objectively identified and analyzed. Thus he rejected the purely physical explanation of human personality as well as human behavior." (39)

And regarding the five higher knowledges (psychokinesis, clairaudience, telepathy, retrocognition and clairvoyance):

"The fifth higher knowledge is clairvoyance (dibbacakkhu). As defined by the Buddha, it does not involve knowledge of the future. While clairvoyance is sometimes used in the sense of perceiving events taking place at a distance, and is comparable to clairaudience, more often it refers to knowledge of the evolution of other human beings as they are conditioned by their karma. The recognition of such a form of knowledge appears to be extremely arbitrary on the par of anyone claiming to be an empiricist. The question is often raised as to how an empiricist can explain knowledge of other-minds, let alone their evolution through several existences. It seems that doubts about the existence of other-minds are generated more by philosophers who attempt to reach ultimate objectivity in their explanations. In the Indian context, the Materialists, the Ajivikas, and even the Jainas seem to have been confronted with such problems. In the case of the Buddha, the issue was to a great extent dissolved by his adoption of a philosophical standpoint the simply avoids generating such problems. When subsequent Buddhist philosophers adopted such objective standpoints, they were compelled to compile treatises justifying the existence of other-minds, as exemplified by Vinitadeva's Santanantarasiddhi (Establishment of Other-minds).
"It is possible to adopt two extreme attitudes about the five forms of knowledge referred to above. The skeptic who looks for an objective explanation can insist on the meaninglessness of such knowledge-claims, for they are not compatible with his notion of verifiability, which is confined mostly to the physical. The spiritualist, in contrast, believes that such knowledge is mystical and has nothing to do with ordinary experiences. The middle path adopted by the Buddha avoids both these extremes. Without being unduly skeptical or excessively enamored with them, he was willing to accept whatever information was available through such means as long as it possessed any pragmatic value. Karma and rebirth, two doctrines that the Buddha came to accept on the basis of some of these experiences, were justified not only on empirical grounds but also on pragmatic ones, the latter being highlighted for the benefit of the skeptic." (41-2)

In essence, Kalupahana seems to be making an interesting case for Buddhism being a middle way between Absolutism and extreme skepticism, as well as between the more well-known extremes of sever asceticism/self-mortification and excessive self-indulgence.

some rambling thoughts on nietzsche's ego and will to power, part 2

There was an interesting discussion on freeratio.org about culturally conditioned morality, particularly religiously influenced ideas such as the Buddhist concept of kamma, and being completely free of their oppressive weight. The OP commented, "Imagine how freeing it would be to know that we could intentionally harm another without any interpretations of right and wrong at all, just because we felt like it." They qualified this statement with, "I'm not saying that I want to do that, but I have seen those that do, and who seem to feel no restraints of a metaphysical nature, or indeed any nature, upon them. Indeed it can be a somewhat joyous process to witness," and then invoked the name of Nietzsche.

Personally, I've always found the concept of kamma (literally 'action') to be quite pragmatic, and not terribly heavy at all. The way I see it, we simply experience the results of our intentional actions in ways that are interpreted to be right or wrong based upon a myriad of factors, some of which may be unique to our species (i.e., kamma is psychological in nature); and we become free of kamma once we get ourselves to the point where we'll never intentional harm another, nor ourselves, and free our mind of clinging (to sensual pleasures, views, rites and rituals, and doctrines of self).

The way they described this freedom from moral conventions, however, immediately reminded me of a psychopath, and I found the thought of purposefully wanting to become like that quite frightening. While I agree that it sounds freeing to a certain extent, even if all psychological restraints are removed from the individual, there are still societal consequences involved in harming others that aren't what I'd describe as 'freeing' or 'joyous.' Moreover, this kind of freedom sounds more appropriate in the Wild West than a modern, civilized society. I suppose this is one of the reasons I've never been a big fan of Nietzsche or Rand, whose philosophies I find somewhat similar in that they seem to exhibit strong psychopathic elements/influences.

In fact, as I've said before, I'd even go so far as to say that Nietzsche's philosophy and type of ego-development leads to an unhealthy type of individual who 'transcends' the world in order to lord over it (a hero who's the antithesis of Buddhism's spiritual egalitarianism). For example, in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, he calls the 'lust to rule' a "gift-giving virtue"; proclaims that selfishness is blessed, wholesome and healthy; and suggests suffering can be drowned out by continuously creating and overcoming oneself; in The Dawn, he writes, "The striving for excellence is the striving to overwhelm one's neighbor, even if only very indirectly or only in one's own feelings or even dreams"; etc. (Compare the last line to this entry from one of Rand's personal journals: "One puts oneself above all and crushes everything in one's way to get the best for oneself. Fine!")

I think this issue arises mainly from his unbalanced view of morality, i.e., his focus on the 'strong-willed individual' and his rejection of what he calls 'slave morality,' which values actions according to their good or evil (i.e., skillful or unskillful) intentions, for 'master-morality,' which values actions according to their good or bad (i.e., pleasant or painful) consequences. This view is unbalanced in that it either overlooks, or completely denies, the efficacy of the intentions underlying our actions (not to mention its blatant disregard for others) (whereas Buddhist concept of kamma recognizes both actions and their intentions as contributing to the experience of mental well-being and/or suffering, for ourselves as well as others).

Nietzsche was undoubtedly a great and original thinker, Rand a little bit less so, in my opinion; nevertheless, I find in his writings evidence that he was also somewhat of a self-absorbed individual with little-to-no conscience or empathy for others, and for whom social rules and conventions had little-to-no meaning, which may have been one of the reasons he seemed so keen on subverting them. At least, that's the impression I get from what little of Nietzsche I've read. The same applies to Rand; maybe even more so since she seems to have admired a likely psychopath named William Hickman, going so far as to model a character named Danny Renahan on him for a novel that was never finished. In one journal entry, for example, she writes of Renahan (emphasis hers):

He is born with a wonderful, free, light consciousness—[resulting from] the absolute lack of social instinct or herd feeling. He does not understand, because he has no organ for understanding, the necessity, meaning, or importance of other people. (One instance when it is blessed not to have an organ of understanding. Other people do not exist for him and he does not understand why they should. He knows himself—and that is enough. Other people have no right, no hold, no interest or influence on him. And this is not affect or chosen—it's inborn, absolute, it can't be changed, he has "no organ" to be otherwise. In this respect, he has the true, innate psychology of a Superman. He can never realize and feel "other people."

Of course, some might say that this is a crude misunderstanding of Nietzsche's Ubermensch, and that he most certainly doesn't advocate psychopathy—that he simply acknowledges the 'will-to-power' is inherently sadistic, and his program is to turn that inward in an effort to transcend and overcome various social conditionings, becoming as one wills and not otherwise. And while I'm sympathetic to that view, I believe that his ideas are essentially the perfect ethical foundation/justification for a psychopath when taken to their logical conclusion, and Rand's more explicitly so. At the very least, I find them to be self-indulgent in the extreme as they seem to completely neglect others except as stepping stones. If their idea of joy is reveling in one's power and freedom to the exclusion, even detriment, of others, then it's a kind of joy and freedom I can live without.