Month: January 2011

The Dalai Lama’s introduction to the third chapter entitled “Emptiness, Relativity, and Quantum Physics” begins:

One of the most inspiring things about science is the change our understanding of the world undergoes in the light of new findings. The discipline of physics is still struggling with the implications of the paradigm shift it underwent as a result of the rise of relativity and quantum mechanics at the turn of the twentieth century. Scientists as well as philosophers have to live constantly with conflicting models of reality-the Newtonian model, assuming a mechanical and predictable universe, and relativity and quantum mechanics, assuming a more chaotic cosmos. The implications of the second model for our understanding of the world are still not entirely clear.

If the reader is willing to seriously consider what the Dalai Lama has to say, his understanding of the world may well change, too. At the very least, he will be reminded that how he sees the world is largely a construct determined by his environment and his culture,not an absolute reality.

In an extended metaphor, the Dalai Lama compares the common conception of self and the Buddhist “theory of emptiness” to classical physics and Quantum physics. He begins by describing the commonly accepted conception of self,

… if we examine our own conception of selfhood, we will find that we tend to believe in the presence of an essential core to our being, which characterizes our individuality and identity as a discrete ego, independent of the physical and mental elements that constitute our existence.

and then explains why, from a Buddhist perspective, that concept is wrong: “The philosophy of emptiness reveals that this is not only a fundamental error but also the basis for attachment, clinging, and the development of our numerous prejudices.” Though I’d never heard this concept referred to as the philosophy of emptiness, I had encountered the concept in earlier Buddhist readings.

The Dalai Lama does a good job of explaining the theory of emptiness:

According to the theory of emptiness, any belief in an objective reality grounded in the assumption of intrinsic, independent existence is untenable. All things and events, whether material, mental, or even abstract concepts like time, are devoid of objective, independent existence. To possess such independent, intrinsic existence would imply that things and events are somehow complete unto themselves and are therefore entirely self-contained. This would mean that nothing has the capacity to interact with and exert influence on other phenomena. But we know that there is cause and effect-turn a key in a starter, spark plugs ignite, the engine turns over, and gasoline and oil are burned. In a universe of self-contained, inherently existing things, these events would never occur. I would not be able to write on paper, and you would not be able to read the words on this page. So since we interact and change each other, we must assume that we are not independent-although we may feel or intuit that we are.

Effectively, the notion of intrinsic, independent existence is incompatible with causation. This is because causation implies contingency and dependence, while anything that possesses independent existence would be immutable and self-enclosed. Everything is composed of dependently related events, of continuously interacting phenomena with no fixed, immutable essence, which are themselves in constantly changing dynamic relations. Things and events are “empty” in that they do not possess
any immutable essence, intrinsic reality, or absolute “being” that affords independence. This fundamental truth of “the way things really are” is described in the Buddhist writings as emptiness,” or shunyata in Sanskrit.

and,

In our naïve or commonsense view of the world, we relate to things and events as if they possess an enduring intrinsic reality. We tend to believe that the world is composed of things and events, each of which has a discrete, independent reality of its own and it is these things with discrete identities and independence that interact with one another. We believe that intrinsically real seeds produce intrinsically real crops at an intrinsically real time in an intrinsically real place. Each member in this causal nexus-the seed, time, place, and effect-we take to have solid ontological status. This view of the world as made of solid objects and inherent properties is reinforced further by our language of subjects and predicates, which is structured with substantive nouns and adjectives on the one hand and active verbs on the other.

But everything is constituted by parts-a person is body and mind both. Furthermore, the very identity of things is contingent upon many factors, such as the names we give them, their functions, and the concepts we have about them.

I’m not entirely convinced by the Dalai Lama’s explanation, but it has opened my mind to the possibility of seeing the world this way. It wasn’t too long ago that I’d never heard the term ecosystem and tended to think of environmental problems as a particular problem instead of a series of interconnected problems. This concept, though more fundamental to our thinking, doesn’t seem too dissimilar.

I was struck that some of the Tibetan debates the Dalai Lama described reminded me of the debate between Aristotle and Plato:

This issue has long been a focus of discussion in Buddhist thought. On one extreme are the Buddhist “realists,” who believe that the material world is composed of indivisible particles which have an objective reality independent of the mind. On the other extreme are the “idealists,” the so-called Mind-only school, who reject any degree of objective reality in the external world. They perceive the external material world to be, in the final analysis, an extension of the observing mind. There is, however, a third standpoint, which is the position of the Prasangika school, a perspective held in the highest esteem by the Tibetan tradition. In this view, although the reality of the external world is not denied, it is understood to be relative. It is contingent upon our language, social conventions, and shared concepts. The notion of a pre-given, observer-independent reality is untenable. As in the new physics, matter cannot be objectively perceived or described apart from the observer — matter and mind are co-dependent.

Aristotle seems closest to the “realists” while Plato was roughly the equivalent of the “idealists.” When I first encountered the two in a college philosophy class, I was certain that I agreed with Aristotle, who’s concepts come closest to modern science. Over the years, though, I often found myself agreeing with literary critics and psychologists who seem tied to various forms of Platonism. I began to wonder if Plato’s “ideals” actually come from some place inside the human brain, if genes may determine how we see the world. If there are archetypes, could they be the result of the way the human brain perceives outside stimuli?

The Dalai Lama makes it clear that the Buddhist understanding of the world is different than the Western view:

This recognition of the fundamentally dependent nature of reality-called “dependent origination” in Buddhism- lies at the very heart of the Buddhist understanding of the world and the nature of our human existence. In brief, the principle of dependent origination can be understood in the following three ways. First, all conditioned things and events in the world come into being only as a result of the interaction of causes and conditions. They don’t just arise from nowhere, fully formed. Second, there is mutual dependence between parts and the whole; without parts there can be no whole, without a whole it makes no sense to speak of parts. This interdependence of parts and the whole applies in both spatial and temporal terms. Third, anything that exists and has an identity does so only within the total network of everything that has a possible or potential relation to it. No phenomenon exists with an independent or intrinsic identity.

And the world is made up of a network of complex interrelations. We cannot speak of the reality of a discrete entity outside the context of its range of interrelations with its environment and other phenomena, including language, concepts, and other conventions. Thus, there are no subjects without the objects by which they are defined, there are no objects without subjects to apprehend them, there are no doers without things done. There is no chair without legs, a seat, a back, wood, nails, the floor on which it rests, the walls that

The more I run this concept through my head, the more plausible it seems, though I wonder if it’s ever really possible to totally understand a major concept from another culture. A quick check on the internet reveals that, at best, I only have a superficial understanding of this concept.

The Dalai Lama points out that the difficulty Westerners have reconciling classic physics with Quantum physics is similar to the problem Buddhists have reconciling a commonsense view of the world with the philosophy of emptiness.

Somewhat parallel problems arose in Buddhist philosophy in relation to the disparity between our commonsense view of the world and the perspective suggested by Nagarjuna’s philosophy of emptiness. Nagarjuna invoked the notion of two truths, the “conventional” and the “ultimate,” relating respectively to the everyday world of experience and to things and events in their ultimate mode of being, that is, on the level of emptiness. On the conventional level, we can speak of a pluralistic world of things and events with distinct identities and causation. This is the realm where we can also expect the laws of cause and effect, and the laws of logic-such as the principles of identity, contradiction, and the law of the excluded middle-to operate without violation. This world of empirical experience is not an illusion, nor is it unreal. It is real in that we experience it. A grain of barley does produce a barley sprout, which can eventually yield a barley crop. Taking a poison can cause one’s death and, similarly, taking a medication can cure an illness. However, from the perspective of the ultimate truth, things and events do not possess discrete, independent realities. Their ultimate ontological status is “empty” in that nothing possesses any kind of essence or intrinsic being.

It’s tempting to dismiss theories that don’t conform to our everyday reality, but we can only do so at a cost. It’s impossible, though, to deny the benefits gained from those who can see the world through the lens of Quantum Physics rather than through the “laws” of Classical Physics.

I’m not sure if I will ever be able to change the essential way I see the world, so it’s comforting when the Dalai Lama says:

The paradoxical nature of reality revealed in both the Buddhist philosophy of emptiness and modern physics represents a profound challenge to the limits of human knowledge. The essence of the problem is epistemological: How do we conceptualize and understand reality coherently? Not only have Buddhist philosophers of emptiness developed an entire understanding of the world based on the rejection of the deeply ingrained temptation to treat reality as if were composed of intrinsic real objective entities but they have also striven to live these insights in their day-to-day lives. The Buddhist solution to this seeming epistemological contradiction involves understanding reality in terms of the theory of two truths.

Though I doubt I could ever learn to see the world either through the Buddhist philosophy of emptiness or the concepts of Quantum Physics, it’s fascinating to see how others see the world quite differently than I, we, do. Keeping an “open mind” might well be the most important thing you accomplish from getting outside your comfort zone.

While reading Maslow’s Religion, Values, and Peak Experiences in November I began to wonder why the relationship between science and religion had become so acrimonious. Simultaneously, I was reading some short articles by the Dalai Lama and wondered which of his many books to start with. Browsing Amazon, I found his book The Universe in a Singe Atom: The Convergence of Science and Spirituality and decided I was destined to read that book, especially since it was available on the new Kindle I had just bought.

I’ve been interested in both science and the spiritual aspects of life as long as I can remember. Though I entered college as a Physics Major, I switched to an English major because I decided that science was too limiting, that I was more interested in other aspects of life than I was in pure science. I suspect that I began to turn away from some traditional religion, though, when they denied what seemed to me fairly obvious truths.

Needless to say, I was encouraged when I read this at the beginning of the Dalai Lama’s book:

My confidence in venturing into science lies in my basic belief that as in science so in Buddhism, understanding the nature of reality is pursued by means of critical investigation: if scientific analysis were conclusively to demonstrate certain claims in Buddhism to be false, then we must accept the findings of science and abandon those claims.

Nor could I help but agree with

The great benefit of science is that it can contribute tremendously to the alleviation of suffering at the physical level, but it is only through the cultivation of the qualities of the human heart and the transformation of our attitudes that we can begin to address and overcome our mental suffering. In other words, the enhancement of fundamental human values is indispensable to our basic quest for happiness. Therefore, from the perspective of human well-being, science and spirituality are not unrelated. We need both, since the alleviation of suffering must take place at both the physical and the psychological levels.

Amen! I’ve suffered enough poverty to know it’s hard to be happy when you don’t have enough money at the end of the month to buy food or can’t afford to go the dentist when you have a toothache. But I’m not foolish enough to believe that having things guarantees any kind of happiness, either. If scientific advances could suddenly give everyone all the material goods they desired, I have not doubt that many, if not most, people would still be unhappy because something was missing in their lives.

The Dalai Lama does not attempt to unite science and spirituality,

This book is not an attempt to unite science and spirituality (Buddhism being the example I know best) but an effort to examine two important human disciplines for the purpose of developing a more holistic and integrated way of understanding the world around us, one that explores deeply the seen and the unseen, through the discovery of evidence bolstered by reason.

but he hopes to find a way to unite them in understanding the world and in eliminating the suffering that afflicts all societies.

Not surprisingly, he doesn’t think that science alone can do that:

One of the principal problems with a radical scientific materialism is the narrowness of vision that results and the potential for nihilism that might ensue. Nihilism, materialism, and reductionism are above all problems from a philosophical and especially a human perspective, since they can potentially impoverish the way we see ourselves. For example, whether we see ourselves as random biological creatures or as special beings endowed with the dimension of consciousness and moral capacity will make an impact on how we feel about ourselves and treat others. In this view many dimensions of the full reality of what it is to be human—art, ethics, spirituality, goodness, beauty, and above all, consciousness—either are reduced to the chemical reactions of firing neurons or are seen as a matter of purely imaginary constructs. The danger then is that human beings may be reduced to nothing more than biological machines, the products of pure chance in the random combination of genes, with no purpose other than the biological imperative of reproduction.

This corresponds quite closely to what Maslow argued in his book. By denying peak experiences, science is impoverishing our existence. Of course, Rollo May also supports this argument with his emphasis on the importance of beauty in our lives.

The Dalai Lama devotes a chapter to discussing the similarities and differences between scientific thinking and Buddhist thinking. He begins by emphasizing similarities:

… the Buddha advises that people should test the truth of what he has said through reasoned examination and personal experiment. Therefore, when it comes to validating the truth of a claim, Buddhism accords greatest authority to experience, with reason second and scripture last.

I suspect that reason actually comes first in science since the hardest scientific truths to learn were those that seemed to go against personal experience, but this reminds me why I’ve increasingly found myself aligned with Buddhism, at least philosophically.

The Dalai Lama says Buddhism, like science, accepts change when proven wrong:

So one fundamental attitude shared by Buddhism and science is the commitment to keep searching for reality by empirical means and to be willing to discard accepted or long-held positions if our search finds that the truth is different.

The Dalai Lama suggests there is, however, one fundamental difference in the forms of reasoning between science and Buddhism:

In this final example, Buddhism and science clearly part company, since science, at least in principle, does not acknowledge any form of scriptural authority. But in the first two domains-the application of empirical experience and reason-there is a great methodological convergence between the two investigative traditions. In our day-to-day life, however, we regularly and habitually use the third method of testing claims about reality. For example, we accept the date of our birth on the verbal testimony of our relatives and in relation to the written testimony of a birth certificate. Even in science, we accept the results published by experimenters in peer- reviewed journals without ourselves repeating their experiments.

The greatest difference between Buddhism and science, though, is what they focus on,

Although the basic emphases on empiricism and reason are similar in Buddhism and science, there are profound differences concerning what constitutes empirical experience and the forms of reasoning employed by the two systems. When Buddhism speaks of empirical experience, it has a broader understanding of empiricism, which includes meditative states as well as the evidence of the senses. Because of the development of technology in the last two hundred years, science has been able to extend the capacity of the senses to degrees unimaginable in earlier times. Hence scientists can use the naked eye, admittedly with the help of powerful instruments like microscopes and telescopes, to observe both remarkably minute phenomena, like cells and complex atomic structures, and the vast structures of the cosmos. On the basis of the expanded horizons of the senses, science has been able to push the limits of inference further than human knowledge has ever reached. Now, in response to traces left in bubble chambers, physicists can infer the existence of the constitutive particles of atoms, including even the elements within the neutron, such as quarks and gluons.

but even here he seems to argue that the two modes of thinking can complement each other, rather than oppose each other as is far too often suggested by some religions.

Ultimately, though, Buddhism does not limit itself to explaining just “objective reality:”

Another of the differences between science and Buddhism as I see them lies in what constitutes a valid hypothesis. Here too Popper’s delineation of the scope of a strictly scientific question represents a great insight. This is the Popperian falsifiabilitv thesis, which states that any scientific theory must contain within it the conditions under which it may be shown to be false. For example, the theory that God created the world can never be a scientific one because it cannot contain an explanation of the conditions under which the theory could be proven false. If we take this criterion seriously, then many questions that pertain to our human existence, such as ethics, aesthetics, and spirituality, remain outside the domain of science. By contrast, the domain of inquiry in Buddhism is not limited to the objective. It also encompasses the subjective world of experience as well as the question of values. In other words, science deals with empirical facts but not with metaphysics and ethics, whereas for Buddhism, critical inquiry into all three is essential.

This seems to reflect Maslow’s criticism of science. In fact, it seems precisely like the kind of critical inquiry that Maslow was trying to promote for peak experiences.

In the end the Dalai Lama criticizes scientists for precisely the same kind of narrowness that Maslow was critical of:

In addition to the objective world of matter, which science is masterful at exploring, there exists the subjective world of feelings, emotions, thoughts, and the values and spiritual aspirations based on them. If we treat this realm as though it had no constitutive role in our understanding of reality, we lose the richness of our own existence and our understanding cannot be comprehensive. Reality, including our own existence, is so much more complex than objective scientific materialism allows.

Ideally, science and religion are not diametrically opposed to each other but complement each other, combining to give us a truer vision of who we are and who we can become.