Tags
Aristotle, Augustine, Confucius, Epicurus, Jeremy Bentham, John Rawls, Mahābhārata, Max Weber, Mozi, Plato, puruṣārthas, Stephen Walker, utilitarianism
In private messages, Stephen Walker recently came back to points he’d made before about the three basic ways of life I had identified before (asceticism, traditionalism and libertinism). He noted, correctly I think, that that scheme as it stands is Indo-Eurocentric; many Chinese thinkers (especially pre-Buddhist ones) do not fit it comfortably.
The problem is not merely a matter of some thinkers lying between ways of life – if, say, Mozi lies between traditionalism and libertinism, as Aquinas lies between traditionalism and asceticism. Schemes like this are (and probably must be) Weberian ideal types: the possibility that real-world examples will fall somewhere in between the categories is not just anticipated, it’s intended. The point is to have a universal heuristic to understand the particulars better, not to have a classification where one can file everything neatly into one folder or the other. (There is something rather Platonic about the ideal-type method, in that one never expects to encounter a perfect or exact manifestation of the category in the real world.)
No, the serious problem is more particular to the scheme, with its third category of “libertinism” encompassing those thinkers who do not embrace asceticism and whose critiques of tradition are relatively radical. Chinese tradition features many such thinkers – but, contrary to my category of “libertinism” as defined in the earlier post, almost none of them highlight pleasure as a (let alone the) central feature of a good life. The point ties back to a key feature of Chinese thought that I’ve noted before: subjectivity is not a major Chinese concern. And pleasure, whatever else it is, is a highly subjective feeling, especially to the extent it is taken as normative and valuable. A behaviourist could understand pleasure entirely in terms of neurons and pleasure-expressing reactions, but on such grounds it seems bizarre to take a utilitarian approach according to which pleasure is the good. If that’s all pleasure is, then why privilege this pattern of neurological movements over any other?
Mozi, the fierce critic of Confucianism, would seem like the most obvious example of such a thinker, going beyond these categories. Stephen noted that Mozi can be far more traditionalist than he appears, citing the ancient sage kings as justification just as the Confucians do – but he still criticizes the modes of life that people have lived in for generations. The Daoists, too, seem to advocate a worldly life that is neither traditional nor libertine.
I have very limited expertise in Daoism, so I asked Stephen what kind of life the Daoists endorse, if neither traditional nor libertine. He noted that they generally appeal to pragmatic efficacy, to sets of variously defined practical worldly goods, such as physical health or family relationships. And that point made me think I was right on track with my earlier response to him: we might just be better off classifying ways of life and even philosophies according to the classical Indian scheme of the four puruṣārthas!
Puruṣārtha means “human aim” or “human end.” There are traditionally said to be three, or four, puruṣārthas, and while they are referred to all over Indian literature, it is surprisingly rare for them to be theorized: one finds almost no discussion of why these are taken as the aims of human existence or what they add up to. They are probably discussed at greatest length in the Mahābhārata, but its accounts are not very systematic.
And yet I have often found the puruṣārthas to be a surprisingly robust account of the aims that humans seek, one that might even expand into a valuable cross-cultural classification of philosophies. In early texts the three puruṣārthas are: artha, worldly success at pragmatic aims such as statecraft and the acquisition of material goods; kāma or pleasure, especially but not only of a sexual kind; and dharma, adherence to norms of duty, especially as found in traditional texts like the Vedas. Later, in post-Buddhist times, is added the fourth aim of mokṣa, liberation or release from suffering.
If we apply this fourfold classification to the history of philosophy and the possible ways of life, we find mokṣa corresponding closely to what I have called asceticism: the quest for transcendence of the world, tied theoretically to the view that the world is a poorer or worse version of some higher and better reality. Augustine’s Christianity is a mokṣa philosophy. Dharma is traditionalism: the attempt to preserve the world as it is and has been, to “save the appearances” in theory and in practice, accepting common-sense ideas and carrying on the continuity of one’s community with children. Aristotle and Confucius are dharma philosophers.
What I previously called “libertinism” is divided: a kāma philosophy continues to take pleasure as the highest good, as do Jeremy Bentham or Epicurus. But an artha philosophy, while refusing (as a pure kāma or even mokṣa philosophy would) to take established tradition as the ultimate authority, also avoids identifying pleasure as a central goal of life, instead urging success at particular worldly goals that – while often urged by tradition – may nevertheless be directly at odds with tradition. If this categorization works, then John Rawls would appear as an artha philosopher along with Mozi and the Daoists.
The trick with the puruṣārtha approach may be at the level of theoretical philosophy. Asceticism as I described it is not just a way of life, it’s also a view of a higher truth beyond this world. Traditionalism is also an epistemology that privileges common sense and the wisdom of the ancestors. And libertinism privileges empiricism, a focus on the evidence of the senses in our lives here and now. It is in this respect that artha and kāma philosophies do not seem so different from each other.
So I’m not yet sure whether I think this classification is better than the previous one. It has the advantage of noting that goals of artha are often closely linked with dharma, frequently more than they are with kāma, as in the case of Mozi. As a result, it does seem to make better sense of Chinese intellectual history than the “three ways” classification – and the fact that an Indic scheme of categories is useful for describing pre-Buddhist China is itself quite interesting.
JimWilton said:
Your analysis of asceticism as it applies to Buddhism seems “off” to me.
Buddhism is the “middle way”, meaning that the Buddha rejected traditional Hindu asceticism as well as pursuit of material pleasure. Furthermore, Buddhists do not distinguish between pursuit of pleasure in material things and pursuit of pleasure in spiritual things. Either reflects attachment and is a source of suffering.
The ideal of Buddhist practice is a disciplined external form and a carefree mental attitude. Because enlightenment is uncreated, it exists in the world as it is. Nothing needs to be done. Nothing needs to be rejected. There is no world other than this world of appearance — and this world just happens to lack intrinsic existence and to have qualities of an illusion. But there is no world other than this one.
Monastic life can be an aid at times on the path, but it is not a requirement.
Thill said:
Buddhism is an ascetic philosophy and religion. This is evident from the fact it was and still is predominantly monastic in its institutional forms or instantiations. All of the important texts in the Buddhist tradition mostly appeal to and presuppose the monastic way of life.
That the hallmark of Buddhism is a life-negating, life-sapping asceticism is evident from the fact that its highest goal or “Purushartha” is the extinction or elimination of desire, the constitutive force of all life! There is no “middle way” here!
JimWilton said:
Wow. “Life-negating, life-sapping asceticism.” Do you want to come over to my house and kick my dog, too?
Thill said:
I wouldn’t do that, even if I had an opportunity, for two reasons:
1. I love most dogs.
2. Your dog could be a future “Buddha”!
Thill said:
Any philosophy and practice which seeks to eliminate or “transcend” desire is certainly ascetic. However, this goal of eliminating or “transcending” desire is self-defeating because you’ve got to have at least a desire for that goal!
JimWilton said:
Your point is a good one. But because the Buddhist path is a process of “realization” it eventually transcends any goal orientation. As the Buddha said, once you cross the river, you don’t need to carry the boat.
There are actually parallels in the Christian tradition. The concept of “grace”, salvation that is not based on effort by the practitioner, can be analogized to this aspect of Buddhist teaching. It is best not to view aspects of different traditions as being the same. There are certainly differences, including that god isn’t important in Buddhism (Buddhists would view the concept of god as an obstacle at some point on the path). But I do believe that genuine traditions that go deep will have parallels — we are all humans and living in the same world.
Amod Lele said:
Jim, I think some of the issue here has to do with definitions of “asceticism.” The kind of austerities rejected by the Buddha tend to deliberate self-mortification, like those frequently practised by Jain monks: pulling out one’s hair by hand to enter the monkhood, starving oneself to death. Buddhist monasticism is indeed a “middle way” between such practices and the more sensual lifestyle of one following the other puruṣārthas; but to people who practise such a lifestyle (not only modern libertines but householders of any stripe), this middle way will still look extreme.
The praise of monasticism in Indian Buddhist texts is pretty unambiguous. While it may theoretically be possible to become liberated as a householder (and the texts can be ambiguous on that), it is much, much harder to do so. At best, the householder’s life is a second-best option for those who don’t have the stomach for monasticism.
JimWilton said:
This is accurate.
Even in the Tibetan mon-monastic yogic tradition, the practice discipline required is extraordinary (think of the stereotype New Yorker cartoon of a yogi in a cave at the top of a mountain).
It is actually a big topic in these modern times — particularly as Buddhist practice becomes available in the West. Very few Western practitioners are ever going to complete a traditional three year, three month, three day retreat.
Teachers are adapting. Dzongsar Khyentse R., for example, has introduced a program for some of his students to undertake the three year retreat curriculum with a two hour a day meditation practice commitment for ten years — while working and maintaining family life, etc. That itself may sound a little extreme — until you reflect that many people watch more than two hours a day of television.
My complaint about classifying Buddhism as an ascetic tradition probably is more of a language problem. There is an understandable tendency to view meditation as an effort to escape the world. But from the practitioner’s point of view, living with a mind that is imprisoned by habits of anger and desire is not really an engagement with the world — but its opposite — the object of desire is consumed, but never really experienced.
Thill said:
Amod: “Later, in post-Buddhist times, is added the fourth aim of mokṣa, liberation or release from suffering.”
But does the idea of “liberation or release from suffering” make sense as an ideal or goal of human life? Is it a reasonable ideal?
No human being, including those who have made tall claims about “transcending suffering”, has achieved this goal “release from suffering”, except, perhaps, by dying! Indeed, it is extremely improbable, given the neurophysiology of the human mammal and the psychological “superstructure” built on it, that any member of this species can achieve release from all suffering, physical and emotional.
If a Bodhisattva is a being who has great compassion for all sentient beings, then this being probably suffers maximally! The root meaning of “compassion” is “to suffer with”. So, there is no way the Bodhisattva can contemplate the sufferings of sentient beings with compassion without herself undergoing those sufferings vicariously!
The Buddha did not “transcend suffering”. He had a painful death by dysentery. He was grieved at dissension within the Sangha in just the way an ordinary human being would be grieved at dissension within her family. The disciples who were close to him for many years and had listened to many of his discourses on “transcending suffering” wept and suffered when he died!
Thus philosophies which posit moksha (understood in terms of “release from all suffering”) as an ideal for human life are chasing a chimera and should properly be classified as “chimerical philosophies” in contrast to those philosophies which posit achievable ends or goals in human life.
Thill said:
I would like to pose a fundamental question for Amod’s interesting attempts at classification of philosophical approaches.
Does it make sense to posit “Dharma”, “Artha”, or “Kama” as ends or goals of human life or effort?
These so-called “goals” are abstractions. They have been abstracted from the pursuit of a variety of specific goals in variety of human lives.
Take “Kama” for instance. We assume that it makes sense to suppose that some or all humans are pursuing “pleasure”. But is this true? Are they pursuing an abstraction called “pleasure”? Or are they pursuing specific pleasures derived from specific things or experiences or activities they desire or prefer?
I am not aware that I am pursuing “pleasure” as such. What I am aware of is that, among other pursuits, I am pursuing the pleasures of listening to Handel’s Concerti Grossi, or eating a good Indian vegetarian meal, or watching documentaries on famous conductors.
You may, in the typical fashion of a philosopher subject to the “craving for generality” (Wittgenstein’s memorable phrase), generalize from all that and say that I am pursuing “pleasure”, but I dare say that I, or any other human being, will never think of pursuing this dessicated abstraction shorn of specific objects from which we derive satisfaction or gratification.
Thill said:
In other words, pleasure, like knowledge or thought, is “intentional” in Husserl’s sense. It has an object.
When I derive pleasure from listening to Handel’s Concerti Grossi, this pleasure is inextricably connected to that work. That masterpiece gives me a distinct form of pleasure by virtue of its nature and the nature of a specific performance of that work.
All pleasures are like this. They are inseparable from the objects or activities which give us those pleasures.
Hence, I don’t think it makes sense to say that we are pursuing “pleasure” in itself.
One could extend this line of argument to Dharma and Artha.
Thill said:
How, if at all, does the pursuit of scientific knowledge (Newton, Einstein, S. Chandrasekhar, etc) or aesthetic perfection (Beethoven, Hokusai, etc) fit into this scheme?
Thill said:
Is someone who pursues worldly resources such power or money because the possession of these things gives her pleasure, in contrast to someone for whom their possession is a means to other pleasures, pursuing Artha or Kama or both?
In any case, it is obvious that, assuming the coherence of positing them as “ends or goals of life”, Dharma, Artha, and Kama are interdependent. For example, you can’t pursue some pleasures without Artha and the social norms constitutive of Dharma. Hence, it doesn’t make sense to speak of someone pursuing one of them to the exclusion of the other.
This means that dharma-philosophies, artha-philosophies, and kama-philosophies cannot be independent of each other.
If Dharma, Artha, and Kama are permeable (i.e., one becomes a constitutive factor in the pursuit of the other) instead of being interdependent, then this poses a serious problem of distinction among dharma-philosophies, artha-philosophies, and kama-philosophies.
skholiast said:
Amod, under artha, I suppose you would also include pragmatism and “ordinary language” philosophies like Moore’s common-sensism, and (some readings of) the late Wittgenstein.
@ Jim: I agree that the Buddha attained his awakening after he had left off being a “renouncer,” but I think in Amod’s sense, mokṣa includes both a good deal of Buddhism as well as of Christianity, which likewise has an elaborate monastic culture but which also does not think of monasticism as necessary. What was “middle” about what the Buddha taught in ancient India is now apt to look relatively extreme (as Thill’s characterization perhaps illustrates), at least to those of us who are not used to seeing begging seers, or starving children, on the sides of the road. (I am not, however, trying to intimate that Thill’s position is an accident of what he does or doesn’t see by the roadside!) Of course this does not mean that Buddhism has not made significant inroads in American culture, but my sense is that its appeal is to those who are weary of a kind of glut or surfeit of gratification, not those who are turned off by “too much asceticism.” I know my analysis here is lopsided and even shallow. But I think both Buddhist and Christian teachings about the human being can be roughly deemed ‘ascetic.’ Of course there’s also the culture of these, which is complicated and vast. In the case of Christianity, I would certainly conceded that it does not always give a very ascetic impression. But go to the desert fathers or Dorothy Day, and you get the sense that a good dose of asceticism is never far from it, albeit a “world-affirming” sort of asceticism.
@ Thill: I am with you on this: there is no sense in rigorously separating these ends, as though one excluded all the others. Insofar as I understand it, the distinction between the various yogas (jnana, bhakti, karma) also acknowledges this. Indian thought is nothing if not subtle. It is a question of emphasis, not obsession.
Thill said:
S: “a “world-affirming” sort of asceticism.”
I don’t understand this phrase. Asceticism, whether Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, or Jain, is characterized by a contempt for and withdrawal from so-called “worldly” pursuits and pleasures (as if there were any pursuit or pleasure not of this world!).
In the early Christian appropriation and transformation of the Greek root word “askesis” of asceticism, it meant “austerity” or self-denial, denial of “worldly” desires. The practitioner of “askesis” was the “asketes” or the ascetic, invariably a monk or hermit. And an “asketerion”, or abode of practice of “askesis”, was a monastery.
JimWilton said:
The problem with self-denial is that there has to be a “self” that is acting to deny the itself pleasure. So while austerity can be helpful in seeing and loosening attachment — if one has habits of gluttony for example — it is possible to become as attached to virtue as to a sixty-four ounce porterhouse steak. And attachment is the cause of suffering (in the Buddhist view).
So Buddhism can’t be viewed as ascetic — at least not in a conventional sense.
Thill said:
JW: “And attachment is the cause of suffering (in the Buddhist view). So Buddhism can’t be viewed as ascetic — at least not in a conventional sense.”
Attachment springs from desire. So, if one foolishly proffers the goal of overcoming attachment, one can’t do it without, again foolishly, setting out to overcome desire.
This silly business of setting out to overcome attachment and its root, desire, is all squarely within the ambit of asceticism.
Attachment and desire are woven into the fabric of our nature and it’s a form of pathology to pursue their elimination. Sanity requires that we focus on the things it would be good to desire or get attached to instead of trying to eliminate all attachment or desire.
By the way, how do you make a commitment to anything, or be dedicated to something, without attachment to the object of your commitment and dedication?
“Self-denial” has always been understood to involve the overcoming of attachment and desire. It is the hallmark of the ascetic outlook.
So, Buddhism is advocating a form of self-denial in setting up as an ideal the overcoming of attachment and desire. It is, for this very reason, a type of asceticism and a foolish one at that.
JimWilton said:
Thill, your mind seems to be made up — but it is made up based on an incorrect view of Buddhist thought.
You remind me quite a lot of the type of dogmatic atheist that you see frequently these days — the kind who loves to fix on a simplistic view of Christianity, like a straw man, and then tear it down. This type of atheist thinker has no sense of how to address any deep form of Christianity such as Carmelites or other contemplative orders with a genuine spiritual practice. And I say this not to denigrate atheists generally — or to endorse Christian thought.
Buddhist thought teaches that desire and attachment are the cause of suffering. But the practical approach is aimed at understanding suffering and how the mind works — rather than cultivating austerity or deprivation.
Specifically, there are three general approaches. The best approach depends on what is most effective in the situation — rather than one approach being superior to another.
The hinayana approach comes at a stage in the Buddhist path when one is focused on personal liberation. At this stage, there is a focus on reducing crude levels of desire. So this is perhaps the closest to your model of an ascetic approach. But even here, the orientation is toward seeing desire clearly — there is a basic difference from the approach of the more extreme Hindu sadhus. I think it can be analogized more to Alcoholics Anonymous — sometimes when desire is particularly strong, it is best to work in a situation where you are distanced from the object of desire.
The Mahayana approach is an evolution from this. Here desire and aggression and other conflicting emotions are used as fuel for developing compassion (the traditional metaphor is that kleshas are “manure on the field of bodhi”). The Mahayana approach at the stage of aspiration (conceptual approach) is based on a view of shunyata — an intellectual understanding of emptiness or egolessness. A practitioner at this stage might contemplate aggression and “exchange self for other” — contemplate wishing that another’s aggression of unhappiness would become ones’ own and one’s own happiness would be experienced by others. This develops with practice into the stage of “entering” an experience of emptiness — which generates confidence in the practice. The experience of emptiness is inseparable from compassion — in the way, as the texts say, that fire is inseparable from heat or water is inseparable from wetness.
The vajrayana approach is a further refinement. Here, desire, aggression and other negative emotions are not rejected — but are looked at directly and incorporated in practice. The approach very much depends on an understanding of shunyata and egolessness.
You don’t have to accept that the Buddhist path is worth pursuing — as a philosphy or as a practice. But when you equate it to a rejection of the world, it just shows that you haven’t given it much thought — or that you have approached it with a closed mind.
Thill said:
JW,
It appears that you have effectively insulated yourself against the possibility of any revision or elimination of Buddhist dogmas from your mind. Curiously, you seem to have become, contrary to the Buddha’s advice not to cling to views or doctrines, deeply atatched to these dogmas! LOL
Why not first start with the attempt to “see clearly” what these dogmas mean, their coherence, and their plausibility?
For instance, you write that “Buddhist thought teaches that desire and attachment are the cause of suffering. But the practical approach is aimed at understanding suffering and how the mind works — rather than cultivating austerity or deprivation.”
But if desire and attachment are the “cause” of suffering and the goal of Buddhism is liberation from suffering (I will ignore the fact that this is practically impossible.), it follows logically that if you accept that Buddhist goal, you must seek liberation from desire and attachment and this puts you right in the middle of the ascetic alley!
Buddhist metaphysics denies that there is any entity to refer to by “mind”. There are only processes, or not even processes if you subscribe to “Kshanikavada” or the theory of momentariness. And so the big puzzle for Buddhism arises here: Who is the recipient of the injunction to “understand how the mind works”?
I hope you “see clearly” that this injunction is directed at a recipient, a conscious subject, or agent, or entity. But then this is like saying “People, there ain’t no people!”!!! If there are only mental processes, how can an injunction or precept be given at all? To whom can it be directed? Who is there to “understand the mind”?
And it gets worse if you accept the doctrine of “momentariness”.
JimWilton said:
I think we are both quite stubborn. But maybe my objection to charactizing Buddhism as asceticism is a small point. It is grounded in the fact that Buddha rejected Hindu austerities as a path — just as he rejected pursuit of “worldly” pleasures.
What strikes me as most inaccurate in your earlier responses is the equating of rejection of desire with rejection of the world (“if you have no desire to see the marvels of nature or for the enjoyment of the varied experiences and activities of human existence, those things will be insipid for you”). It is demonstrable (using your treasured common sense) that this is not the case. Have you ever seen a child taste his first ice cream? Have you ever listened to beautiful music that you have never heard before? These are experiences without desire — because there is no past and there are no preconceptions obscuring the experience. It would not be accurate to describe these fresh experiences as “insipid”.
What Buddhists have discovered are methods for experiencing the world without the overlay of preconceptions. From a Buddhist point of view, the compartmentalization of experience into what it means to a solid, concept of “me” — experiencing a fine car as status symbol, to use an obvious example — is an escape from experiencing the world as it is. Non-attachment is engagement with the world in a direct way.
So that is why I say that, to my mind, Amod’s classification of Buddhism as an ascetic philosphy is a little “off”. That and the fact that Buddhist approach to desire itself as a human experience is more based on understanding and seeing clearly than suppression — even at the hinayana level — as explained above.
However, if the classification is simply meant to identify philosophies that have a concept of path, then I have no quarrel with the approach.
Thill said:
JW,
It is clear that you assume that asceticism is confined to self-mortification, e.g., extreme fasting, long hair, long nails, to all appearances a skeleton, and such. But the spectrum of asceticism encompasses more than these extreme forms.
Abstention from “worldly” pursuits, relations, and pleasures has always been a characteristic of the ascetic outlook and life. Since desires and attachments propel us into the matrix of “worldly” life, the ascetic tries to eliminate or overcome them, much to the detriment of her sanity.
If you look at this facet of asceticism, you will see clearly that Buddhism is ascetic in its outlook and practice even if it makes concessions for householders who have always been at the margins of its edifice.
“What strikes me as most inaccurate in your earlier responses is the equating of rejection of desire with rejection of the world…It is demonstrable (using your treasured common sense) that this is not the case. Have you ever seen a child taste his first ice cream? Have you ever listened to beautiful music that you have never heard before? These are experiences without desire — because there is no past and there are no preconceptions obscuring the experience. It would not be accurate to describe these fresh experiences as “insipid”.”
Would that our existence in this world were a continuous series of fresh or new experiences of the sort we had when we were babies or children! But, alas, it isn’t!
In any case, the examples you give plainly involve desires! How do you get a child to eat ice cream for the first time? You give it a small sample and then with the pleasurable taste comes a desire for more. That’s how we develop our habit of eating ice cream and other foods. In other words, the initial pleasure calls forth desire which is its twin. Pleasure and desire have a symbiotic relation.
You enjoy a new work of music only because its initial notes give you pleasure and then you form a desire to hear more of it.
Have you not heard a piece of music for the first time and turned it off because you didn’t like it? What happened then? You simply did not have the desire to listen to it. You had an aversion to it.
Thus, desire or aversion enters into all experience, the new and the familiar. Desire is the cement of experience. Without it you will not give continuity to your experiences.
Thill said:
JW: “The experience of emptiness is inseparable from compassion — in the way, as the texts say, that fire is inseparable from heat or water is inseparable from wetness.”
The big trouble with religious belief, I have come to realize, is that it effectively undermines the “nonsense sensors” in our brains. But when we begin to accept absurdities and delude ourselves that they are instances of profound wisdom, we are opening the door to great dangers. As Voltaire said, if you can persuade someone to accept an absurdity, you can also persuade her to accept an atrocity.
Th experience of emptiness is inseparable form compassion? This is the mother of all absurd statements and I don’t care how many alleged Buddhas or Bodhisattvas have repeated it. LOL
Compassion can arise only if you contemplate the suffering of another being, empathize with that suffering, understand that it is bad for that being to suffer in that way, and have the DESIRE to remove or alleviate that suffering. If you disagree with this, you are in some other universe than mine. LOL
But in your much-vaunted “experience of emptiness” there is no subject and there are no others. Even the reality of suffering is in doubt. And, of course, there is no desire, not to mention a specific kind of desire.
You should “see clearly” now that it is logically impossible for compassion to arise in this “experience of emptiness”!
Thill said:
JW: “The vajrayana approach is a further refinement. Here, desire, aggression and other negative emotions are not rejected — but are looked at directly and incorporated in practice.”
What does “looking at directly” and “incorporated in practice” mean in this context? They are just red herring! Do you or do you not fulfill your desires or express your aggression? If you do, you are not an ascetic. If you don’t, you are an ascetic!
JimWilton said:
I don’t expect you to accept the answer since you don’t accept the concept of shunyata or experience that is non-dualistic.
However, nevertheless the answer is that desire and other negative emotions are experiences that are themselves empty. So in the vajrayana there is not a need to do anything with negative emotions — to not act on the emotion as might be recommended in the hinayana or to apply an antidote to the emotion (applying patience to anger, for example) as you might in the mahayana. Instead, the emotion experienced directly with awareness is “self-liberated”.
At least that is the theory. Maybe not so easy to put into practice.
But it illustrates that the concept of asceticism is a little “off” in the context of Buddhism — since a vajrayana practitioner would likely say that you do “fulfill your desires and express your aggression”.
Thill said:
Well, could you blame for not accepting that you are writing the biography of a son of a infertile woman?
JW: “However, nevertheless the answer is that desire and other negative emotions are experiences that are themselves empty.”
No, they are certainly not “empty”! They have objects or something they are directed toward. They have an intrinsic nature or Svabhava(Thus I refute the dogma of Sunyata! LOL). You can’t even identify and distinguish them if you don’t think they have an intrinsic nature or Svabhava.
JW: “So in the vajrayana there is not a need to do anything with negative emotions — to not act on the emotion as might be recommended in the hinayana or to apply an antidote to the emotion (applying patience to anger, for example) as you might in the mahayana. Instead, the emotion experienced directly with awareness is “self-liberated”.”
Why do you call them “negative emotions”? You must think that they are “negative” because they lead to delusion and suffering. That’s the standard Buddhist line. If so, you are logically bound to go to the Hinayana track particularly if you accept, as you must, the goal of liberation from suffering.
Th emotions either continue and exhaust themselves in some way or subside quickly. There is no such thing as “self-liberation” of emotions if you mean by that something different from these two mutually exhaustive alternatives. The main issue is whether you are abstaining from or consummating them. If you abstain consistently, that’s asceticism. If you consummate them consistently, that’s not asceticism, but then you are on D & S alley (delusion and suffering) according to Buddhism.
So the legitimation of consummation of desire in Vajrayana, if that is true, is at odds with the second and third “noble truths”.
But it illustrates that the concept of asceticism is a little “off” in the context of Buddhism — since a vajrayana practitioner would likely say that you do “fulfill your desires and express your aggression”.
skholiast said:
One can indeed affirm the world and still believe that it is neither all that there is, nor, in some senses, the most important thing. It really need not be one way or the other. But the dialectical is neglected nowadays.
When the Christian spiritual athletes fought tooth and nail against the gnostics (and this at the same time that they were still subject to periodic persecutions), they were not fighting for the soul, but for the body. Their insistence was — against their opponents — that the created world, in all its sensual manifoldness, was good.
Thill said:
S: “One can indeed affirm the world and still believe that it is neither all that there is, nor, in some senses, the most important thing.”
I agree, but asceticism does not “affirm” or approve the worldly life. It is a withdrawal from the life of the world and a pathological attempt to destroy the links to that life, in the forms of desire and attachment, in oneself.
“Their insistence was — against their opponents — that the created world, in all its sensual manifoldness, was good.”
By the “created world” do you mean nature? And does this nature also include human nature? If so, you have a serious problem in your hands in the form of both the doctrine of the “Fall” and the doctrine of “original sin”?
Since the “Garden of Eden” had the tempting serpent, it couldn’t have been good. Since “original sin” taints all human nature, nature which encompasses the tempting serpent and the “fallen” human nature can’t be good.
JimWilton said:
Thill, why would you equate rejecting desire as rejecting the world? Desire, by definition, is a fixation on the past projected into the future. It has little to do with experiencing the world as it exists.
If you have ever had the experience of being depressed and sitting down and eating a tub of ice cream — you will appreciate that the desire for the ice cream is not much connected with the sensual experience of eating the ice cream.
It is possible to have appreciation and delight in the world without desire — without reducing every experience to “what it means to me”.
Thill said:
JW: “Why would you equate rejecting desire as rejecting the world? Desire, by definition, is a fixation on the past projected into the future. It has little to do with experiencing the world as it exists.”
I don’t know what your definition means! Desire is simply a powerful need or craving for something. It brings attachment to the object in its wake. Why muddle it up unnecessarily?
If you have no desire to see the marvels of nature or for the enjoyment of the varied experiences and activities of human existence, those things will be insipid for you. Desire and aversion hook you up to the world and its delights and pains. No desire, no delight. No aversion, no pain.
You take an interest in understanding the world because you desire that knowledge. If you give up desire, you cannot have any interest in the world.
But it is not logically possible to become free of all desire. As I pointed in another post, to pursue the goal of desirelessness, you must have a desire for achieving a state free from all desires and this also entails a desire for everything which is a necessary means to attaining that state. So, it’s self-defeating.
The wise thing to do is to give up this absurd goal of attaining a desireless state. The same applies to attachment, an offspring of desire.
Thill said:
I would add, in response to JW on desire, that desire always has an object. There is no such thing as desire without any object.
This means that desire is not purely subjective or internal. It is always projected outward and toward something or the other. Hence, any account of specific desires must refer to the objects of those desires and the unique relations between the desires and their particular objects.
And assuming that the elimination of desire is logically possible and feasible, what sort of a relationship could you then possibly have to the world?
Appreciation and delight are a function of desire. If you have no desires, what would you appreciate and take delight in the world for?
Thill said:
Not to mention the Flood. If the Lord thought that the world was good, why would he try to destroy it with a flood? And if he thought that it was so bad, why would he try to save Noah and the Dinosaurs? LOL
Thill said:
I am responding to Skholiast’s point that the Early Christians celebrated the goodness of the created world.
skholiast said:
As to the Fall, I refer you back to my previous comments. In a sense, I suppose you could say that I concede the difficulty, but not the case. If you like, of course, you can just skip to your own responses to my comments.
michael reidy said:
The broad categories of Dharma, Artha, Kama, Moksha can be generalised but in the culture from which they are taken they are holistic i.e. each part is a whole with parts which in turn are wholes with parts (holons in Koestler’s terminology). There is general cosmic Dharma which has a Tao like aspect, then the dharma of all basic particulars. At the human level, there is varna (caste) dharma, stage of life dharma i.e. student, householder, forest dweller and renunciate. These dharmas will break down further. Similarly for the other Categories. The point is that in that *Hindu culture the individual can find his position readily both horizontally and vertically and even temporally by the phase of the moon.
Euro-American culture is less boxed. Is there an intelligentsia whose dharma it is to chatter? Are we left to our own devices in the matter of self-definition. We all know people who say – I’m the kind of guy who…… .