Meditation
as Ethical Activity
By Georges Dreyfus
Assistant Professor of Religious Studies,
Williams College Williamstown,
Massachusetts, USA
ISSN 1076-9005; Volume 2 1995
Abstract:
Despite the fact that the
various Tibetan Buddhist traditions developed substantive ethical systems on
the personal, interpersonal and social levels, they did not develop systematic
theoretical reflections on the nature and scope of ethics. Precisely because
very little attention is devoted to the nature of ethical concepts, problems
are created for modern scholars who are thus hindered in making comparisons
between Buddhist and Western ethics. This paper thus examines the continuity
between meditation and daily life in the context of understanding the ethical
character of meditation as practiced by Tibetan Buddhists. The discussion is
largely limited to the practice of meditation as taught in the lam rim (or
Gradual Stages of the Path).
OBJECT OF THE STUDY
Let me start by
expressing my concerns over the project I am about to engage in, a discussion
of the ethical framework implied by the practice of some basic meditations in
Tibetan Buddhism. Although this discussion is certainly interesting and is
perhaps important, it is also deeply problematic, for at least two reasons.
First, Tibetan Buddhist
traditions did not develop systematic theoretical reflections on the nature and
scope of ethics. This is not to say, as has been often misunderstood, that
these traditions are ethically weak. Like other rich traditions, Tibetan Buddhist
traditions have developed substantive ethical systems, at the personal,
interpersonal and social levels, while lacking a theoretical reflection on the
nature of their ethical beliefs and practices. This lack of theoretical ethics,
what we could call second degree ethics in opposition to substantive ethics,
affects not only Tibetan Buddhism, but Indian Buddhism and other related
traditions, and is quite remarkable given the richness of Indian Buddhist
philosophical reflection in general. Compared to domains such as the philosophy
of language and epistemology, Indian Buddhist traditions never developed a
similar systematic reflection on the nature of ethical concepts. This is not to
say that notions such as virtue or goodness are unknown in Indian Buddhist
traditions, but that they are not taken to be philosophically interesting.
Ethical concepts are studied, but they are not thought to warrant a theoretical
discussion. For example, in the Vinaya literature, which is often taken as the
main reference in ethical discussions in many Buddhist traditions, there are
extensive substantive discussions: what are the precepts, what is included in
them, what is excluded, etc. Very little attention is devoted, however, to the
nature of ethical concepts. Precepts are discussed practically, but their
status is not systematically theorized.
This situation creates
problems for modern scholars who want to describe Buddhist ethics. They cannot
proceed to a straightforward comparison between Buddhist and Western ethicists,
but must first construct the studied object. When studying other philosophical
topics such as Buddhist epistemology or metaphysics, scholars can discuss and
compare well formed theories. Ideas are interpreted, but this work is a task of
translation, which remains within a domain open to relatively unproblematic
validation. The situation is quite different in the domain of philosophical
ethics, where Indic Buddhist texts offer little theoretical reflection. Instead
of delineating and translating the structures of an articulated system,
scholars must pull together the often scattered elements of substantive ethics
found within the tradition, and construct the logic of the tradition's ethical
system, without getting much assistance from the tradition itself. This
situation creates obvious problems of validation and risks the imposition of an
alien scheme of thought. Nevertheless, running the risk seems preferable to
leaving the impression that the practice of meditation in Buddhist traditions
is ethically irrelevant.
The second source of my
discomfort concerns the object of my study. A study of the ethical nature of
certain Buddhist meditations is often in danger of blurring the line between
the descriptive and the normative. In examining the ethical nature of
meditation, I am not interested in extolling the value of meditation. My point
is not that meditation is good, but that ethical concepts are relevant to the
development of a theoretical understanding of meditation.
I believe the modern academic
study of Buddhism does not address meditation adequately. Whereas we seem to
find little problem to describe the myths, rituals, and narratives of Buddhist
tradition, we seem to find it much more difficult to explain meditation in
terms that are accessible to the educated public. When speaking about
meditation, our usual conceptual overflow dries up and we are reduced to using
either emic terms or general concepts such as mysticism or religious
experience.
These terms are not
necessarily false, but are certainly limited.[1] They tend to reinforce the
stereotypes of meditation as alien, oriental, and as a part of "eastern
religious practices." Even if meditation is not seen as alien, it is still
viewed as non- rational or irrational, and as a practice separate from normal
activities. Meditation may exist in Catholicism or Islam, but it is the
exclusive domain of the few interested in mysticism, outside fields such as
philosophy, or psychology. Viewing meditation as a mystical activity or a
"religious experience" removes meditation from the activities of
daily life, isolating it into a possibly glorious but unbreakable isolation.
Anyone who knows how meditation is actually practiced in Buddhist traditions,
which is the focus of this essay, will realize how unfortunate and inadequate
this understanding is.
I am not claiming that
this continuity between meditation and daily life is a particularity of
Buddhist practice. In fact, a similar understanding is reflected in the works
of Christian contemplatives such as Theresa of Avila and others. Modern
academic discourse has difficulty, however, in capturing this continuity. This
difficulty is not just due to the attrition of originally useful concepts such
as mysticism, but reflects the deeper problem of the way in which religion has
been constructed in modernity.[2] Rather than being a practice continuous with
other human activities, religion has become a separate domain of private
beliefs and experiences implemented in public rituals. As long as this picture
dominates our understanding, practices such as Buddhist meditation will be hard
to account for.
To overcome this limited
understanding of religious practices, and to explore a variety of new
theoretical approaches that emphasize a continuity with common experience rather
than reify distinctions into unbridgeable separations, we need to drop our
obsession with boundaries between disciplines. The study of meditation is, in
this respect, exemplary. Although there is no denying that meditation is a
religious activity, it is found also in secular traditions. For instance, forms
of meditation were widely practiced among the Greeks, in particular during the
Hellenistic period. In a book that has not received the attention it deserves,
the French classicist Pierre Hadot has written brilliantly on how Stoic,
Skeptic and Epicurean philosophical texts were in fact manuals for
contemplation.[3] These practices, which he calls spiritual exercises, were
forms of meditation. Thus, far from being limited to the practice of a few
"mystics", meditation can be seen as a much more widespread
phenomenon.
The approach which I adopt
here is philosophical. I analyze the ethical nature of meditation as carried
out in some Tibetan Buddhist traditions. Meditation is often viewed as an
activity irrelevant to ethics. This supposedly non-ethical character of
meditation is celebrated by some as going beyond the limited categories of good
and evil. Though I am referring here mostly to a popular misunderstanding of
meditation, this view is not absent from the scholarly literature, where the
goal of Buddhist traditions is sometime described as "beyond good and
evil".[4] Within the framework of these particular traditions, such a
description makes limited sense, but it does not represent a final theoretical statement
on the non-ethical nature of meditation and its goal. These statements, which
are mostly pragmatic and performative, should not be mistaken as meta-ethical
descriptions of the ethical nature or, rather, lack thereof, of the practices
of these traditions.
Others view this perceived
amorality with great suspicion, tying meditation to the modern culture of
self-discovery, which, for them, displays an exaggerated sense of
self-involvement and a narcissism deleterious to moral life. Whether they are right
or not, one thing needs to be emphasized: it is a serious mistake to assume
that the practice of meditation in modern culture reflects the
"nature" of meditation in general. Meditation cannot be understood as
being just a technique whose meaning remains independent of the cultural
context in which it is practiced. Meditation is a technique of the self, in the
sense that Foucault has delineated,[5] but this is quite different from the
crude instrumental understanding often displayed in modern culture.
Thus, I intend to set
this discussion on firm ground by looking at the way in which meditation is
practiced by Tibetan Buddhists and how this reveals its ethical character.
Although it might be possible to make a few general statements about meditation,
I hold that meditation is a practice that takes place in particular contexts
from which it can hardly be divorced. Meditation is not a disembodied
phenomenon that is identical regardless of how, when, where, and by whom it is
practiced. To avoid the fallacy of decontextualization, I will limit my
impressionistic comments to the practice of meditation as taught in the lam rim
(Gradual Stages of the Path) literature of Tibetan Buddhism.
This type of text was
introduced in an early form to Tibet
in the eleventh century by the Indian teacher Atī"sa. His work, The Lamp
of the Path to Enlightenment and its Explanation,[6] became the model for a
genre of Tibetan Buddhist literature, which later became known as lam rim,
describing a large range of meditations preliminary to the practice of Tantra.
This literature is particularly significant for our purpose. It represents a
basic view of Buddhist practice which is widely accepted in Tibet, both
among lay population and virtuosi. It is practiced by all the contemporary
schools of Tibetan Buddhism. Moreover, its views resonate with the
understanding of other Buddhist traditions, particularly Theravāda, which share
a similar gradualist approach. Although the lam rim literature is Mahāyānist,
its framework includes the practices found in Nikāya Buddhist traditions as
well.[7] Hence, several of our conclusions will be applicable to other Buddhist
traditions.
THREE OBSTACLES
Even when meditation is
seen as relevant to the ethical domain, the relation between meditation and
ethics remains external. In the Buddhist tradition, ethics, "sīla, is
mostly understood in terms of injunctions, such as the five precepts emphasized
by the Theravāda tradition, or the ten virtues emphasized by the Tibetan
tradition.[8] Many Buddhist writers have described how respecting moral rules
is basic to the practice of meditation.[9] More preoccupied by practical than
theoretical considerations, these authors have emphasized the preliminary and
instrumental or auxiliary value of "sīla with respect to meditation.[10]
Many modern scholars have recognized the fundamental role of "sīla within
the tradition. Following the statements of Buddhist thinkers, these scholars
have tended, however, to see the role of "sīla as preliminary. They have
concluded that ethics play only a limited role within the Buddhist tradition.
Why is meditation often
depicted as irrelevant or external to moral life? These assumptions come, I
believe, from the dominance of a certain picture of ethics in modern thought, a
picture that has a hold on our minds regardless of its limitations. Since
Buddhist meditation does not fit into this model, we automatically assume that
it is not directly relevant to moral life.
This picture of ethics
has been described by Iris Murdoch as the "visit to the shop" view of
morality. It compares the realm of moral life to a visit to a shop, where I
enter "in a condition of totally responsible freedom, I objectively
estimate the features of the goods, and I choose".[11] This picture is
very widespread in our culture, with an influence that goes well beyond the
explicit allegiance to a particular moral philosophy (such as Kantian
deontology or utilitarian consequentialism), and often determines the
assumptions made by modern scholars studying Buddhist ethics. To understand the
ethical nature of certain Buddhist practices, we must undo the hold of this picture.
We must become conscious of some of our key assumptions about ethics. Here, I
would like to identify three key related presuppositions.
The first assumption is
the idea that ethics primarily concerns the domain of rules and injunctions,
and is less concerned with the development of a good character than with what
is right. This emphasis is common to most of the important modern moral
theories. It is central to a utilitarian view of morality, which emphasizes the
importance of choosing the right course of action for the sake of the greater
happiness of the greater number. Notions of injunctions and righteousness are
also central to deontology, the approach that dominates modern ethical
reflection. This view of moral life, which is associated with the name of Kant,
holds that the moral character of a life must be appraised in terms of duty.
For Kant, the goodness of moral life does not consist of the development of
human qualities or a good heart, but consists of the ability to act according
to the universal moral law. To be moral is to decide to act upon certain agreed
rules of action, the maxims, which conform to the universal law.
The second, related
assumption about ethics is the opposition between reason and emotion and the
privileging of the former. This dualism is strongly marked in the Kantian
tradition. To greatly simplify, we cannot help what we feel but only what we
do. Hence, I cannot be said to have a duty to have certain emotions or to act
from certain emotions. Ethics is to be understood in terms of obligations.
Since emotions cannot be made objects of obligations, they are without moral
relevance. Their presence or absence cannot reflect on a person morally since
they lie outside of the scope of personal responsibility.
This opposition between
rationality and emotion goes well beyond the Kantian deontological tradition
and is assumed by most modern ethical thinkers. For them, character and
emotions are considered marginal to moral life, which centers around the notion
of rules. A person is moral not because she has a good character, and is kind
and patient, but because she manages to choose the right rule. Ethics is then
seen as being concerned with the exploration of the rationality of punctual and
limited decisions reached through weighting advantages and disadvantages of
alternatives, in isolation from global life projects and memberships in
traditions.
Finally, a third
assumption is the opposition between external agency and internal attitudes.
Here again, the Kantian tradition is representative of the widely shared view
that ethics concerns the domain of external activity, not the realm of internal
emotions, which are passive. Ethics is a matter of thinking clearly, and then
proceeding to outward dealings with other human beings. Hence, the attitudes
that we have and the feelings that we experience are morally irrelevant. To be
good does not mean to have good human qualities, as in most traditional
cultures, but to choose the right course of action.
This picture of ethics
as consisting of rational choices regarding external actions is very widespread
in our culture. Contemporary philosophers such as Simone Weil, Charles Taylor,
Iris Murdoch, Alasdair MacIntyre, Bernard Williams, Martha Nussbaum, and
others, have commented on its weaknesses.[12] To briefly summarize and greatly
simplify, these critics have insisted on the limited and even pernicious nature
of this view of morality. They have argued that such a model represents an
impoverishment of our understanding of moral life. Instead of being relevant to
the way in which we lead our lives at the most pedestrian level, ethics becomes
restricted to the discussion of limited and isolated situations. There is no
denying that moral choices concerning the death penalty or abortion are morally
important, but how often are we confronted with such choices, either personally
or even as citizens?
More relevantly for my
project, I would like to argue that as long as we are dominated by the picture
of ethics described above, we will not be able to understand the ethical nature
of meditation. For, if ethics primarily concerns the rationality of choices
regarding punctual issues and has little to do with internal emotions,
motivations, and moral perception, meditation can hardly be relevant to ethical
life. It is clear that meditation is not very helpful in making such decisions.
Thus, it must remain incidental to ethical life. It may help to make a
particularly difficult choice, but it remains external to ethical life. The
ethical moment is not constitutively involved in the practice of meditation.
To explore an
alternative view, we need other broader ethical models, in which ethics is not
reduced to a kind of informed consumer's choice, but includes both internal and
external domains of our lives. Internal emotions must be seen as fully relevant
to the moral character of a person. It is true that we cannot be obliged to
have certain attitudes towards our fellow human beings. It does not follow from
this that these attitudes are irrelevant to ethical life, but that ethical life
cannot be reduced to the domain of obligations and injunctions. In order to
appreciate the ethical character of meditation, we need ethical models that
transcend the dualism of most contemporary ethics, that overcome the divide
between reason and emotion, activity and passivity, and that include the whole
range of human endeavour, both internal and external, within the purview of
ethics.[13]
A MORE INCLUSIVE MODEL
As several contemporary
thinkers have emphasized, a richer picture of ethics can be found in the
ancient Greeks' views, particularly those of Aristotle and the eudaimonic
tradition. Following this tradition, our attention shifts away from the notions
of obligation and choice to that of goodness. Ethics is to be understood as
being about the good life, that is, the life oriented towards a good end. This
telos is eudaimonia, that is, human happiness and well-being, in which the good
is a whole made up of interlocking parts, forms of activity, internal and
external, in accordance with the practice of certain virtues.
Philosophically informed
Buddhist scholars have begun to realize the importance of virtue ethics (the
view of ethics as being about the good life in accordance with the practice of
virtues) and teleological models for the understanding of ethics in Buddhist
traditions. A particularly valuable attempt has been Damien Keown's study of
Buddhist ethics from an Aristotelean perspective,[14] which uses virtue ethics
as a model to describe Buddhist ethics in relation to other traditions. It is
tempting, however, to go too far in this assimilation of Buddhist ideas to
those of Aristotle. I believe that this is the danger that threatens Keown's
otherwise excellent work. There are certainly similarities between the two
sides, but there are also differences (a familiar picture). The problem with
the assimilation of Buddhist ethics to an Aristotelean model is that it
privileges the similarities, and relegate differences to the inessential,
leading to unwarranted assimilations.
An example in Keown's
work is the assimilation of the Buddhist concept of cetanā (usually translated
as volition) to Aristotle's notion of moral choice. In the Abhidharma, cetanā
is the direction that the mind takes when it is impelled to move toward its
object. Hence, it is certainly involved in moral choice, but does this warrant
their assimilation? For example, the Buddhist concept of cetanā does not imply
rational deliberation. Cetanā is present in non-reflective spontaneous mental
states. Choice takes place when we pause to reflect on the spontaneous
direction that the mind has already taken. I believe that Keown's translation
of cetanā as choice and his explicit assimilation of the two concepts is
inadequate to the Buddhist understanding. It forces an Aristotelean
understanding on a concept which is quite different.
Keown does a very good
job of unearthing some of the important resemblances between Aristotelean
psychology and Buddhist ideas. He is right to emphasize that it is simplistic to
describe Buddhism as advocating a complete eradication of desire.[15] Buddhism
distinguishes between attachment, that is, excessive desire, and other forms of
affectivity (such as the desire to help others), which are clearly recommended.
The similarity with Aristotle's thought has been hidden by the simplistic
descriptions of Buddhism as denying validity to any affective involvement. But,
while acknowledging similarities, large differences are also present, for much
of what Aristotle holds as healthy emotional involvement (desire for sense
objects, attachment to one's community, etc.) is, in the Buddhist view,
problematic. Aristotelean and Buddhist evaluations of the health of human
desires vary, for while Aristotle holds that human desires are basically sound
and just need education, Buddhists hold that most humans are dominated by
unhealthy desires.
Keown uses Aristotle's
binary opposition between the cognitive and the affective to explicate Buddhist
ideas.[16] Buddhists do recognize these aspects of mind, for instance, in the
concept that wisdom is cognitive whereas attachment and compassion are
affective. However, I would argue that applying a binary model to Buddhist
psychology is inappropriate, for it forces a number of mental factors such as
mindfulness, enthusiasm, and deliberation into one of the two sides of the
dichotomy. The Buddhist view emphasizes that these mental factors are common to
both affective and cognitive states. Any mental state in which the degree of
attention is sufficient is said to contain these mental factors. I would like
to argue that from a Buddhist perspective, these factors are neither strictly
affective nor cognitive in and of themselves, but are best described as
enabling either side. Buddhist models of the psyche do not conform to the
opposition cognitive-affective, and forcing them into this mode distorts the
picture.
My point here is not to
cast aspersion on Keown's work, which is an important contribution to the study
of Buddhist ethics. I wish to emphasize that the use of a virtue ethics model
does not necessarily imply an adherence to Neo-Aristoteleanism. There have been
many teleological systems that were not Aristotelean. The Hellenistic ethical
systems, for example, offer examples of virtue ethics that are teleological
without being Aristotelean.
Whereas Aristotle
emphasizes that the good (or, at least, one of the aspect of the good) is found
in common activities pursued within political communities, Hellenistic thinkers
such as Epicurus, Pyrrho or Seneca emphasize a more ascetic and individualist
ethics. The good is found less in conversations within human communities than
in the development of internal virtues that free oneself from the limitations
and faults of society. Human happiness is found in a state of equanimity
(ataraxia) achieved by removing the disturbances brought about by passions and
anxieties. The achievement of such a state is the goal of ethics, which is
intensely therapeutic. Not only is ethics practical, as Aristotle also
emphasizes, but it is transformative. [17] Epicurus says:
Empty is the philosopher's
argument by which no human suffering is therapeutically treated. For just as
there is no use in a medical art that does not cast out the sickness of bodies,
so too there is no use in a philosophy, if it does not throw out suffering from
the soul.[18]
The central motive of
Hellenistic philosophy is the urgency of human suffering and the commitment of
philosophy to help this condition. Hellenistic ethics is based on the practice
of certain virtues, such as trust or suspension of belief, that constitute the
good life. Although Hellenistic ethics is, like Aristotelean ethics,
teleological, it does not share the metaphysical presuppositions of
Aristotelean ethics, nor is its descriptions of the telos identical. Whereas
Aristotle emphasizes at one level the common life of the polis, optimistically
assuming that most of our attitudes and beliefs are essentially healthy,
Hellenistic philosophers believe this view is overly optimistic. Societies are
not healthy. Humans are not rational and their values are unsound. They need
philosophical therapy to become healthy.
The goal of the Buddhist
tradition, freedom from negative emotions, resemble that of many Hellenistic
philosophers, freedom from disturbance. Moreover, like Hellenistic
philosophies, Buddhist views emphasize the importance of certain virtues,
detachment and compassion, which are both therapeutic and constitutive of the
good. Buddhism is practical in the highest degree, holding that the value of
philosophy is not theoretical but lies in its ability to transform humans.
Virtues are not meant to just remedy some deficiency or resist some temptation,
but to achieve a transformation of the person. Hence, both these traditions
offer examples of teleological views that clearly differ from Aristoteleanism,
despite being virtue ethics.
Thus, my reference to
virtue ethics does not imply a commitment to some form of Neo-Aristoteleanism,
but is more minimal. In my view, virtue ethics implies that actions are
oriented towards certain ends that humans consider to be good. Ethics discusses
the nature of these ends, separating the positive from the negative goals in
relation to the values and ideals provided by a culture or a tradition, more
specifically by what is usually described as its ethos. The ethos of a people
is "the tone, character and quality of their life, its moral and aesthetic
style and mood; it is the underlying attitude towards themselves and their
world that life reflects."[19] Virtue ethics reflects on the nature of
these goals, and delineates the virtues that lead to and constitute these
ends.[20] A virtue ethics is not necessarily committed to more than this.[21]
The ethical views of the lam
rim tradition satisfy these minimal criteria. The lam rim tradition does not
provide a complete view of the "good",[22] but presents a broad model
of Buddhist goals and practices. Its literature describes Buddhist practice as
aiming at three types of "good". On a lower level is the attainment
of a good rebirth through the practice of moral precepts. This goal is
traditionally taken by laity in Buddhist societies, and is considered by the
lam rim to be limited. It is not seen as worthless or separated from other
Buddhist practices,[23] but as provisional, a way to move the mind away from
attachment to worldly concerns. On the middling level is Arhathood, the state
of a person liberated from the causes of suffering, the negative emotions (nyon
mongs, kle"sa), through the practice of the threefold training (bslab ba
gsum, tri"sikṣā) of
morality, concentration, and insight. The lam rim literature considers this
goal, which is taken by Nikāya traditions as central, to be valuable, but still
limited. On the highest level is Buddhahood, the state of a person having
reached the perfection of knowledge and compassionate activities. This is the
goal emphasized by the lam rim tradition, and which corresponds to its
Mahāyānist perspective.
It is clear from this
description that the lam rim tradition offers a teleological model. It posits certain
goals to Buddhist practice which are reached by the development of certain
excellencies that are constitutive of them. Although the goals posited are
different, they all share in certain fundamental virtues that constitute the
good life, summarized as being a life of compassionate detachment or detached
compassion, according to whether one pursues the first two levels or the third.
Moreover, this tradition is eudaimonist, for it describes human beings as first
and foremost concerned with happiness (understood not as pleasure but as
well-being and flourishing). It further holds that ordinary life is unable to
provide such a happiness, which can only be reached through practices such as
meditation. Only then will we able to partake in the more developed forms of
what Buddhist traditions consider the good life.
In this broader picture
of ethics, the whole of Buddhist practice becomes ethically relevant.
Meditation in particular becomes central to ethical life, understood as the
development of the virtues or excellencies constitutive of human flourishing
that is the goal of the Buddhist tradition. It is in the practice of meditation
that the central virtues of the tradition, detachment and compassion, are
developed. Hence, far from being irrelevant to Buddhist ethics, meditation
turns out to be central.
This is obviously not to
say that the practice of Buddhist ethics requires that of meditation.
Meditation is usually reserved in traditional Buddhism to religious virtuosi
such as monks and nuns. Although the separation between these highly trained
specialists and laity is more blurred in modernity,[24] the average person in
Buddhist societies still never practices meditation. However, values central to
the life of many Buddhists, such as compassion and certain forms of detachment
manifested in giving, are related to the practice of meditation. According to
the understanding of many Buddhists, these virtues can be fully developed only
through the practice of meditation. Hence, meditation is central to a full
understanding of Buddhist ethics, even for the majority, who will never engage
personally in any meditation. Moreover, the importance of this practice is
understandable if we adopt the more inclusive perspective provided by the
standpoint of virtue ethics and distinguish the domain of prohibitions and
injunctions from ethics as understood in this broader sense.
This model of ethics is
strengthened by making a distinction between ethics and morality, which goes
back to Hegel and which has been developed by contemporary thinkers such as
Williams, Ricoeur, etc. Put briefly, the distinction between ethics and
morality marks two domains of ethical life. "Morality" refers to the
limited domain of rules and injunctions. "Ethics" entails an
appreciation of activities from the point of view of whether or not they are
good, and refers to a more global dimension of life lived in accordance with
the practice of virtues.
Such a distinction is
useful from several perspectives. It avoids reducing ethical life to punctual
rational choices of appropriate rules, but it also allows for an appreciation
of the integrity of both domains. Ethical life is not reduced to morality, but
morality is not eliminated either. To state that there is more to ethics that
prohibitions and injunctions could lead to the other extreme of dismissing
rules and obligations altogether.[25] This, I believe, is going too far. P.
Ricoeur is quite right to emphasize the importance of prohibitions and duties,
the domain of morality. Ethics avoid falling into a romantic effusion of good
sentiments only if it submits itself to the test of norms. Accepting norms
limits the dangers created by our almost unlimited capacity for self-deception,
by testing our ethical project against the norms provided by prohibitions and
injunctions. Norms are necessary to insure the ethical nature of a global
vision. Norms cannot, however, necessarily be expected to cohere, and, in fact,
lead to unavoidable conflicts as evidenced by complicated contemporary
bio-ethical issues. Thus, ethical life is not limited to the choice of the
right norms. We need to return to the overall ethical vision of our lives in
order to resolve the conflicts over competing norms. Norms are not
self-sufficient, but must be understood in the larger context of an ethical
vision concerning one's whole life.[26]
I find this model
particularly appropriate for the discussion of Buddhist ethics. The distinction
between ethics and morality is philosophically important. It broadens ethics to
include the realm of internal attitudes and emotions, without sacrificing the
necessary rigor. It also fits the study of ethics in the lam rim tradition,
where we find similar suggestions.
THE DOUBLE MEANING OF
"SĪLA
As argued above,
"sīla mostly concerns precepts and rules within the Buddhist tradition.
However, in the lam rim literature it is also suggested that the meaning of
"sīla should not be limited to the domain of injunctions. While discussing
the meaning of "sīla as one of the six perfections (phar phyin, pāramitā)
in the bodhisattva practice, Atī"sa distinguishes three meanings in the
Mahāyāna understanding of "sīla: "sīla as a prohibition of faults
(sdom pa'i tshul khrims), "sīla as a collection of virtuous factors (dge
ba chos bsdus pa'i tshul khrims), and "sīla as working for the sake of
sentient beings (sems can don byed pa'i tshul khrims).[27]
Roughly speaking,[28]
the first level of "sīla concerns the domain of injunctions, the keeping
of the precepts and rules to ward off faults. It resembles Ricoeur's morality,
although it is not yet clear to me whether this "sīla can be understood
deontologically or not. Atī"sa explains faults as being of two types:[29]
natural faults (rang bzhin gyi kha na ma mtho ba) and conventional faults (bcas
pa'i kha na ma mtho ba). This is a distinction, well discussed in the Vinaya
literature, which Atī"sa uses to flesh out what "sīla means qua
morality. Natural faults are actions such as killing. These actions are
negative in that they directly harm others. Everybody engaging in them would
incur a fault, and would engender a negative karma, regardless of who they are.
The second type of fault incurred by breaking a conventional rule. For example,
it is not non-virtuous to eat after noon. For monks, however, such an action constitutes
a fault because of the conventional rules they have accepted.[30] Among these
two types of fault, the former is far more important. Hence, morality is
defined in the lam rim tradition as the development of the resolution to
abstain (spong sems) from harming others.[31]
The second meaning of
"sīla concerns the more inclusive ethical moment.[32] It is the whole
range of virtuous practices in which a person engages after making a commitment
to reach Buddhahood for the sake of other sentient beings. Practices such as
patience, giving, contemplation, and meditation are then forms of "sīla.
For Atī"sa, this form of "sīla is identified with the practice of the
bodhisattva and does not concern other forms of practice. Implicitly, however, his
description broadens the meaning of "sīla and takes us beyond the domain
of injunctions. "sīla is not just keeping to precepts, but any virtuous
activity. This implicitly suggested view of "sīla corresponds to Ricoeur's
ethics, the good life in accordance with the practice of virtues.
Similarly, the third
level also goes beyond the domain of injunctions. Working for the sake of
sentient beings is described by Atī"sa as virtuous activity oriented to
the service of others: nursing the sick, leading the blind, helping the
downtrodden, feeding those who are hungry, providing lodging and clothing for
the needy, etc.[33] This third level of ethical practice is interesting in more
than one respect. First, it dispels the misrepresentation of Buddhism as
promoting self-involvement. Secondly and more importantly, this level of
ethical practice shows the importance of relations with others in Buddhist
tradition. The third level of ethical practice is more specifically Mahāyānist
than the second. Though intended for bodhisattvas, the ethics of collecting
virtues can be extended to other Buddhist practices. This is not the case with
the ethics of helping others, for this ethics is resolutely oriented towards
others. Although similar practices are recommended in Nikāya traditions, helping
others is seen by these traditions as subordinate to the attainment of
liberation for oneself. The Mahāyānist tradition differs in that it holds that
helping others is a goal in and of itself. The difference between these two
traditions, which are represented unequally in the lam rim as level two and
three, is clear in the presentations of the meditations on loving-kindness and
compassion. Whereas Nikāya tradition takes this type of meditation as a means
to self-development, the Mahāyāna tradition emphasizes that compassion is aimed
at helping others.[34] The goal is not just to develop a healthy concern for
others, but to actually help them.
The difference between
these two views of Buddhist practice does not entail a commitment to different
ethical models. In the Mahāyānist tradition helping others does not imply a
self-denial or ignore self-cultivation. Helping others is not a sacrifice of
one's self, but a fulfillment of one's capacity for generosity. All beings seek
happiness, and generosity does not contradict this search. Generosity is in
fact its supreme fulfillment. Thus, the ethics of helping others can be
integrated within a teleological model.[35] Helping others is a form of
developing oneself, though concern for oneself is not an adequate motivation
for helping others.
MEDITATION AND VIRTUE
Delineating some of the
obstacles towards the understanding of meditation and providing a model that
highlights the ethical character of meditation is a helpful first step. To
develop a richer picture of the ethical role of meditation, we will have to
analyze more closely the nature of meditation, and its relation to the
development of virtues.
In the Theravāda
tradition, meditation is described as bhāvanā, that is, cultivation or
development. In Tibetan Buddhism, meditation is called sgom, a word derived
from the verb goms, to become accustomed. Meditation is a practice that aims at
a process of self-transformation, in a cultivation of the desirable traits of
one's character. Certain nefarious habits due to the domination of negative
emotions, such as attachment, are transformed and gradually eliminated. Hence,
meditation can be described as a process of becoming accustomed to and
developing virtues such as concentration, mindfulness, detachment, compassion,
etc., as well as an attempt to uproot internal negative obstacles to the good
life.
At this juncture, two
questions arise: what is the nature of virtue developed by meditation, and what
are the particular virtues that meditation develops? There is no exact
equivalent to the word "virtue" in the lam rim literature. The
closest term is probably dge ba'i chos (ku"sala dharma), that is, virtuous
quality. Atī"sa gives the following explanation of the virtuous nature of
practices:
[My] teacher said that such a
threefold ethical training is virtuous because when it is properly taken and
protected it [fulfills] the goals of oneself and others and leads to happiness
and well-being.[36]
The three levels of ethical
practice delineated above are virtuous inasmuch as they lead the self and
others to happiness and well- being. This explanation, which emphasizes the
relation between virtue and eudaimonia, is vague enough. It becomes clearer if
we remember that, for Atī"sa and other Indian and Tibetan Buddhist thinkers,
virtue and happiness have to be understood in relation to the doctrine of karma
and its result. Actions and attitudes are defined as virtuous in relation to
their positive karmic results. The Indian teacher Vasubandhu makes explicit
this link between karma, i.e., action, and happiness when he says:
A good (ku"sala) act is
salvific because it brings about pleasant retribution and in consequence
protects from suffering for a certain time (this impure good act); or because
it leads to the attainment of Nirvāṇa,
and, in consequence, protects definitively from suffering (this is the pure
good act).[37]
Actions, including mental
attitudes, are virtuous because they correspond to the type of action that
produces a good result. This result can be of several types. It can be a good
rebirth, in the case of actions performed with what an inferior motivation as
described by the lam rim literature. It can also be Arhathood or Buddhahood, in
the case of middling or superior scopes. In all cases, the good result is
brought about by the virtuous action.
This definition of
virtue raises a number of problems. For, how are we supposed to evaluate the
result of a given action? In many cases, recognized Buddhist virtues fail to
bring immediate positive results, and the result described concerns the long
term. But in this case, how do we know which result is produced by which
action? The short answer to this complicated epistemological problem is that we
do not know. To decide which action produces positive effects, we must rely on
the testimony of an enlightened person as found in a scripture. Thus, in final
analysis, it is the scriptural tradition that decides what counts as virtuous.
This difficulty in defining virtue is typical of a virtue ethics system.
Aristotle's definition of virtues as the states that are the means, that is,
between extremes, is considered one of the most problematic parts of his
Ethics.
To define virtue in term
of karmic results raises complicated and difficult questions. I characterized
the overall ethical framework in the lam rim tradition as teleological, but
this definition seems to entail a consequentialist view, not to say a
utilitarian one, since practices are determined as ethical in relation to their
results. My greatly simplified epistemological discussion shows that the
description of virtue in terms of results is deceptive, since we must rely on a
scriptural tradition to decide what the karmic consequences of a given action
are. The scripture will help us not by explaining the particular results of a
particular action, but by delineating the type of action which in general
brings positive results. The question then becomes: how is the relation between
certain types of action and their results in the lam rim tradition?
To respond, we must go
back to our separation between morality and ethics. Our discussion of Buddhist
virtue ethics does not concern the limited realm of injunctions. It concerns
the overall ethical framework of the tradition as well as a limited range of
important virtues involved in the practice of meditation, which are central to
the tradition. The way in which injunctions are understood in Buddhist
traditions is a topic which will require further inquiry. The virtues involved
in the practice of meditation (in terms of the lam rim, principally the virtues
of the middling and higher scopes) are understood by the tradition not
consequentially, but teleologically.
The difference between
the two is not always obvious. Like consequentialism, teleology understands
ethical actions from the point of view of their consequences. An action is
ethical in relation to a goal, a telos, which is defined in terms of happiness
and human flourishing. The goodness of such an action depends on its relation
to that end and, hence, is defined in relation to its consequences. The crucial
difference between consequentialism and teleology concerns the relation between
one's actions and the end that they pursue. Consequentialism sees the relation
as instrumental: an action is good because it brings about the right result.
Teleology sees the relation as constitutive: an attitude is good because it
constitutes the desired end. This is where teleology is closer to deontology
than to consequentialism. Virtuous actions are chosen for their own sake, not
for their instrumental values. This is clearly the case of the virtues involved
in the practice of meditation. Buddhist meditation is not, at least
normatively, a technique that can be mechanically applied, and will lead
automatically to greater happiness. The practice that constitutes virtue
inasmuch as it is practiced according to the norms of the tradition. Thus, our
definition of virtue is compatible with our assertion that meditation is best
understood as a practice central to and constitutive of the good life.
The second question
concerns the list of virtues that are relevant to the practice of meditation.
In the Theravāda tradition, the Abhidharma provides lists of virtuous
qualities, such as the five faculties (indriya, dbang po), which are: faith,
energy, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom. They are mental faculties to be
developed by the practitioner, which lead to the development of liberating
insight. The lam rim literature also refers to this type of list. Its central
classification of virtue is different, however, for it emphasizes the central
importance of the six perfections. The list is divided into two types of
virtues. The first group constitutes virtues such as giving, ethics, and
patience, which are described by the tradition as belonging to the method
(thabs, upāya) aspect of the path, directed by compassion toward the welfare of
others and leading to the development of the embodied aspect of Buddhahood.
These virtues, which are part of the collection of merits (puṇya, bsod nams), are
other-regarding. They concern our relations with other beings. The second group
is constituted by the self-oriented virtues, such as wisdom. These virtues,
which take part in the collection of gnosis (jñāna, ye shes), concern our way
of apprehending reality and lead to the development of the cognitive aspect of
Buddhahood.
These two types of
virtue resemble the usual distinction between emotional and cognitive virtues.
The first three virtues are driven by compassion and imply a positive
altruistic attitude toward other beings. Wisdom, on the other hand, is more
cognitive. It brings about insight into the selfless nature of things, thus
removing obstacles such as selfishness and attachment. Wisdom is not only
insight into the selfless nature of reality, it is also the practical
intelligence that is required by the practice of other virtues. It would be a
mistake, however, to think of these two aspects as being separate. As
emphasized in this essay, emotions and cognitions are not separate. Emotions
are cognitive and, vice versa, cognitions are emotional. For example,
compassion in the lam rim tradition is not just a feeling of sympathy for
others, but an attitude that needs to be cognitively enriched. Although
compassion exists in all of us, it is usually shallow and narrow. We are
sometimes compassionate towards a small number of beings. To become the basis
for a practice of larger scope, compassion must be deepened and extended so
that it can include all sentient beings. This enlargement is emotional (the
ability to generate positive feelings towards the people one usually dislikes),
as well as cognitive (the ability to perceive the suffering that is often
hidden by apparent happiness). Similarly, giving is not just a sentimental
thrust of generosity, but is to be cultivated into an intelligent attitude of
sharing with others. It is to be practiced in combination with other virtues:
with respect to morality, patience, energy, concentration, and discrimination.
The good life can be reached, according to this tradition, only if the
emotional and cognitive aspects of our personality are brought together.
THE PLACE OF MEDITATION
IN ETHICS
But what is the role of
meditation in the development of these virtues? The lam rim tradition
distinguishes two types of meditation: meditation of stabilization ('jog sgom)
and meditation of investigation (dpyad sgom). This distinction is broader than
the distinction made by most Buddhist traditions (Tibetan included), that
between tranquility ("samatha, gzhi gnas) and insight (vipa"syanā,
lhag mthong).[38] Meditation of stabilization involves a fixation of the
attention on a single object, often one's breath or a visualized object. When
the mind has reached a minimal level of calm and focus, the meditator has the
choice between continuing to keep her attention on a single object, or opening
the focus of her attention onto more than one object. The first type is a
practice of concentration that leads to the development of tranquility. The
second category, investigative meditation, is extremely broad, for it includes
all the meditative exercises that are not single-pointed. As soon as the
practitioner considers more than one single aspect of any given object, as soon
as, for example, she starts to let her mind notice the difference in length of
the breaths, her meditation has become investigative. In the case of a
meditation on the breath, such meditation would be also a form of practice
leading to insight. Not all investigative meditations are forms of insight,
however. For example, a visualization in which more than one aspect is
considered is a meditation of investigation, but not a practice of insight.
Similarly, the meditation on loving kindness, the recollection of the Buddha's
virtues, or the meditation on death are investigative, but not insight
practices.
Among the two types of
meditation, the lam rim tradition emphasizes the latter type. Investigative
meditation, such as meditation on compassion or selflessness, is more
important, because it is directly relevant to the practice of the path. In
ethical terms, such a practice contributes directly to the development of
virtues. When well practiced, it is in and of itself a virtue. In the lam rim
tradition, meditation on compassion is not just developed for one's own spiritual
comfort, but is thought to lead to caring for and helping others (as
illustrated by the third level of ethics described above). The increased
ability to help others is the measure of the success of one's practice.
Compassion is an excellence that prefigures and constitutes the final goal of
the path, Buddhahood.
But what about wisdom? A
convincing answer to this question would require a lengthy discussion of the
doctrine of selflessness and its relation to ethics. The following sketchy
remarks will have to suffice within this limited essay. For the Buddhist
tradition,[39] wisdom is a lived insight into the selfless nature of reality.
This insight brings about a transformation of one's self-understanding that
constitutes a virtue. When the meditator realizes selflessness, she loses her
self-centered attitude and attachment to herself. This in turn leads to the
abandonment of negative emotions such as attachment, hatred, and pride, which
are all based on ignorance, that is, a self-grasping attitude. In the
perspective of the middling scope, which corresponds to the views of Nikāya
tradition such as Theravāda, such a wisdom is the central virtue. Its
development constitutes the goal, the ideal of Arhat, the person who is
detached, and thereby equanimous and compassionate.[40] Other virtues are meant
to facilitate the development of such a wisdom. In the perspective of the
larger scope, which is privileged by the lam rim tradition and reflects the
Mahāyānist perspective, insight must be combined with the other-regarding
virtues, such as giving to lead to the goal of Buddhahood. In both
perspectives, however, wisdom is a virtue in and of itself. It constitutes a
good, a detached self- understanding which, according to the tradition, leads
towards greater care for others. It is eudaimonia.
The other type of
meditation, stabilization or concentration, is not considered by the tradition
as a virtue in and of itself, though it is an indispensable preparation for the
practice of more ethically relevant types of meditation. Concentration and
energy, the fifth and fourth virtues, play a role which could be described as
enabling. They are virtues inasmuch as they enable the practice of other
virtues, particularly wisdom, which grows out of the practice of special insight.
To reach insight, the practitioner must first develop a high level of
concentration. Only when the mind is powerfully focused, can she develop the
sharp vision of reality that is required to develop wisdom.
The relation between
concentration and the other emotional virtues brings us to attention and its
importance for the development of virtues. Attention is in fact what all the
different forms of meditation developed by the lam rim tradition have in
common. They are all activities that require and lead to the development of
attention. In the practice of stabilization, attention is focused on a single
point. In the practice of investigation, attention is more open, considering
the different aspects of a phenomenon. In all cases, the practice of meditation
consists of a development of attention. It is here that the relevance of
meditation as an ethical practice appears more clearly.
Attention is an
essential factor in ethics. Its importance can be understood at several levels.
At the simplest level, a person needs to be attentive in order to be ethical. A
distracted person fails to see that a situation requires a particular course of
action. The contribution of attention to the practice of ethics, however, goes
much further than this simple requirement that one not be absent-minded. As
Simone Weil claims, the role of attention in ethics is central. She says:
The poet produces the
beautiful by fixing his attention on something real. It is the same with the
act of love. To know that this man who is hungry and thirsty really exists as
much as I do--that is enough, the rest follows of itself.[41]
For Weil, the role of
attention is not limited to the mere fact of paying attention. It is the
central element of the good life which allows a person to develop the virtues
that constitute the good. To understand this, we must go back to the beginning
of our discussion where we emphasized the limitations of modern ethical models.
There we critiqued the dominance of intellectualism over Western ethics and the
dualism between emotion and cognition.
Both these views seem to
me quite inadequate to account for ethical life, for they overly privilege
activity over passivity and the intellect over emotions. The point here is not
to do the opposite and present an emotivist view of ethics. Buddhist traditions
are quite remarkable in that they emphasize the cognitive side of ethical life.
One of the main obstacles to the development of an ethical behaviour is
cognitive (ignorance), and so is the means (wisdom) to address these obstacles.
This cognitive factor, however, profoundly differs from modern cognitivism. For
the Buddhist tradition, the cognitive nature of ethics is not divorced from the
emotional side. When Buddhists speak of the importance of cognition in ethical
life, they are not speaking about a disincarnated computer-like rationality.
Rather, they are referring to the development of insight through the practice
of meditation. Such insight is an embodied cognitive faculty, bound with
emotional factors. Thus, the point here is not to emphasize emotion at the
expense of cognition, passivity over activity, but to overcome this duality to
restore a balance to ethical life.
ATTENTION AND THE GOOD LIFE
It is here that the role
of attention becomes central to the good life. For, in most cases, our
difficulty in behaving ethically does not come from cognitive difficulties, at
least understood in the ordinary sense of the word. The cases in which we are
genuinely puzzled do exist, but they are relatively rare. In most cases, our
problem does not come from a lack of information, but from an emotional
inability to see the ethically relevant features of a situation.[42] For
example, I see a homeless person. I know that this person is in trouble. I also
know that I could help this person, but that would involve some trouble. I
decide to remain uninvolved. This decision is not due to a cognitive deficit,
but an emotional inability to overcome my fear, as well as an inability to feel
strongly enough for the person. This fear and indifference lock me into a
certain vision in which I focus on the aspects of the situation that threaten
me. This prevents me from considering other perspectives, particularly the
ethically salient aspects of the situation, the fact that a fellow human being requires
help that I can provide. In particular, this precludes me from engaging in what
Strawson describes as "the range of reactive feelings and attitudes that
belong to involvement or participation with others in interpersonal human
relationships".[43]
It is here that the type
of attention developed by meditation becomes particularly relevant. Most forms
of Buddhist meditation rest on the development of a form of attention usually
described as mindfulness (dran pa, smṛti).
It is the type of attention that we use when we focus on whatever appears to
our mental or physical senses. When we are mindful, we are alive to the
situation that unfolds in us and outside of us. In our example, a mindful
person notices the homeless person as well as a reluctance to help him. The lam
rim tradition insists on the centrality of this quality, which is not
reflective, but allows us to be aware of our attitudes and emotions. Attention
is not introspection. Being mindful does not imply an active search of one's
feeling, but, rather, a receptiveness to them. We are ready to notice events,
both outside and inside us, but we are not searching for anything in
particular.[44]
Mindfulness is central
to the development of a good life within the Buddhist tradition. It is the
basic attitude that allows the practitioner to develop other forms of
meditation, which as we have seen lead to the development of emotional and
cognitive virtues. Mindfulness is also particularly significant in that it links
categories usually considered apart. For example, mindfulness binds body and
mind together. Although mental, it is embodied, intertwined with the physical
sensations. It is mindfulness that makes one realize the embodied nature of
one's being and brings the meditator a sense of being grounded. More
relevantly, mindfulness bridges the gap between domains that are often kept
apart in modern ethics, such as activity and passivity. As both a state of
heightened receptivity as well as a starting point for further action,
mindfulness is both active and passive. Mindfulness also brings together
emotion and cognition, acting as the basis of both, and thereby enabling and
keeping together these aspects of the human psyche.
Mindfulness is also
directly relevant to the development of basic moral sensitivity. If we go back
to our example, we can see that the development of mindfulness would have
helped me to deal with the situation more appropriately. It would have given me
the awareness of the emotional obstacles, here fear and indifference, that
prevented me from helping a fellow human being. It would have allowed me to
notice the limitations of my perception, and shift to another more
compassionate perspective.[45] Being mindless, however, I was carried away by
my emotions. I was led to act unethically, not because I did not know what
needed to be done, but because I was unable to resist my impulses. I walked
away from the homeless person displeased with my inability to help and yet
unable to do anything else.
Buddhist meditation is
meant to address this type of problem. At a higher level, it is meant to modify
these powerful emotions by eradicating self-grasping, their root. More
immediately, though, the practice of meditation is meant to develop
mindfulness. This basic virtue, which enables us to develop wisdom, is
ethically relevant, for it helps us to gain some awarenesss and freedom from
our emotions. This increases our ability to deal more effectively with negative
emotions and develop positive ones. When it is well developed, mindfulness
brings our emotions into focus very quickly, we become almost immediately aware
of our responses. This is quite important, for emotions such as fear develop
gradually in our minds. Because we usually lack attention, we do not notice
this process until these emotions dominate our minds. At this stage, it is
often too late to do very much, for we are trapped by these emotions. The more
we try to overcome them, the more we become entangled in them. Attention helps
us, because it brings these emotions into focus right from the start. At this
point, they are still weak patterns that are starting to set the tone without
yet being dominant. Being attentive, we notice them and this may enable us to
bring about other emotional responses. For example, instead of feeling fear and
indifference, I become sympathetic to the plight of the homeless person. This
in turn, allows me to open myself to this person.
A FEW MISUNDERSTANDINGS
Although attention is
essential to the development of a good life in the Buddhist tradition, it would
be a great mistake to consider it as some kind of panacea. The development of
attention does not ensure that our attitudes and actions will be ethical.
Attention brings about a certain connectedness to the object. We relate to the
object and often seem to become absorbed in it, especially in concentration.
But this connection is not inherently good. We can become engaged in an object
that we are about to destroy. The ethical character of attention cannot be
appraised in isolation from the overall framework of the practice in which we
are involved.[46] In my example, attention becomes good only because it allows
me to develop a more ethically informed attitude. Such an attitude is not just
the result of attention, but depends on the moral education provided by
traditions. It is because I have been made aware that helping is good that I
can develop the appropriate virtues.
Another misperception is
to see attention as providing an immediate and certain access to our mental
states. This is again a mistake. The point in developing attention is not that
by being mindful we unfailingly understand our emotions. The understanding of
mental life gained through attention is not a direct knowledge by acquaintance.
Knowledge of the workings of our minds does not proceed in insolation from our
understanding of external reality. For example, we do not become aware of anger
just by mere acquaintance with our mental states. The awareness that we are
angry at somebody depends on a number of concepts and information that we have
about that person. Thus, when I become aware of my anger, I am not directly
noticing some kind of autonomous mental factor going on in my mind, like a fish
swimming in a pond. Rather, I become aware of an emotional aspect of the global
situation. This in turn allows to pay some attention to this aspect, rather
than being driven blindly by it.
Thus, it is clear that
the ethical quality of attention or mindfulness is not intrinsic, but depends
on its integration into a larger ethical framework. There is nothing, I would
claim, in attention that guarantees the ethical nature of my attitudes or
actions. Attention becomes an enabling virtue only in relation to other
virtues. Simone Weil's insistence on attention clearly refers to a particular
quality of attention. It is not any attention that "is enough", but a
loving and just attitude. In the Christian framework, such an attention is in
and of itself a sufficient condition for the good life. Similarly, in a Buddhist
tradition, not any form of attention is virtuous. Only the forms of attention
that enable us to develop emotional virtues, such as compassion, and cognitive
virtues, such as wisdom are virtuous. Attention is sufficient in the Buddhist
tradition only when it becomes detached and compassionate. Then, it does embody
the central virtues that make for the good life. It is only within the larger
framework of a tradition that meditation is an ethical practice.
NOTES
[1] These remarks address the
common understanding of mysticism and leave out the more sophisticated views.
See, for example, M. de Certeau, La Fable Mystique (Paris: Gallimard, 1982).
Return
[2] See, for example, Talal
Asad, Genealogies of Religion (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press,
1993). Return
[3] P. Hadot, Exercises
Spirituels et Philosophie Antique (Paris: Etudes Augustiniennes, 1987). Return
[4] See, for example, I.B.
Horner, The Basic Position of Sīla (Colombo: Baudha Sahitya Sabha, 1950), 11.
Quoted in D. Keown, The Nature of Buddhist Ethics (New York: St. Martins,
1992), 15. Return
[5] M. Foucault,
"Technologies of the Self", in L. Martin, H. Gutman and P. Hutton,
eds., Technologies of the Self (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press,
1988), 16-49. We will come back to this point. Return
[6] byang chub lam gyi sgron
me dan de'i bka' 'grel (Dharamsala: The Tibetan Publishing House, 1969). Return
[7] The term "Nikāya Buddhism"
is meant to designate the traditions such as Theravāda which are depicted by
Mahāyāna traditions as Hīnayāna, while avoiding the loaded connotation of this
term. Return
[8] The five precepts are an
undertaking to abstain from: killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying,
taking intoxicants. The ten virtues are: the former first four, plus abstention
from slanderous, harsh or frivolous speech, abstention from covetousness,
malevolence and false views. Keown, The Nature of Buddhist Ethics, 29-32. Return
[9] The importance of this
type of morality for the overall tradition is well illustrated by the anecdotal
fact that Radio Sri Lanka starts every day with the taking of the five lay
precepts. Return
[10] H. Saddhatissa's
statement that " the precepts were never ends in themselves, confined to
the mundane level, but were the essential preliminaries, as also the permanent
accompaniments, to the attaining to the Highest State" is fairly typical
of the limited view of ethics in Buddhism. Buddhist Ethics: Essence of Buddhism
(London: Allen & Unwin, 1970), 113. Return
[11] I. Murdoch, The
Sovereignty of the Good (London: Ark, 1970), 8. Return
[12] See more particularly A.
MacIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame, 1981),
M. Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1986), and B. Williams who rejects morality, calling it "this peculiar
institution", Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1985). Return
[13] This is well argued by L.
Blum, "Compassion", in A. Rorty, Explaining Emotions (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1980). Return
[14] Keown, The Nature of
Buddhist Ethics. Return
[15] Keown, The Nature of
Buddhist Ethics, 222. Return
[16] Keown, The Nature of
Buddhist Ethics, 210. Return
[17] M. Nussbaum, The Therapy
of Desire (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994). Return
[18] Quoted in Nussbaum, The
Therapy of Desire, 102. The author elaborates a complex model of therapeutic
ethics. She notices the similarity with certain Asian traditions (312), but
does not discuss this comparison. In general, Western philosophers have
resisted the comparison between Hellenistic philosophies and so called
"Eastern philosophies", afraid of the assumed irrationality and
mystical character of such traditions. I believe that it is time to drop such
assumptions (I am not sure what are the essential characteristics common to
Theravāda Buddhism and Confucianism that justify their being "Eastern
philosophies"!). They are far from innocent, stemming from a desire to
keep these traditions in marginal isolation. Moreover, what scholarly sense
does it make to compare the thought of a single Western author with the many
traditions of an entire continent? Return
[19] C. Geertz, The
Interpretation of Culture (New York: Basic, 1973), 127. Return
[20] A further determination,
which we may want to add to the concept of virtue ethics is that such a view
holds that the good for humans is eudaimonia, happiness in the large sense of
the word. This eudaimonist requirement does not seem, however, strictly
necessary to virtue ethics. For example, Mencius' ethics is not directly
eudaimonic and yet still presumably qualifies as virtue ethics. The notion of
eudaimonia is important, however, in the Buddhist context, for this tradition
emphasizes the centrality of happiness, understood in the large sense of the
word. It also emphasizes the similarities between Greek and Buddhist ethics, a
point generally lost to those who remain happy with empty labels such as
"Eastern philosophy". Return
[21] I leave aside another
important point usually associated with teleological models, that is, the
question of whether or not such a model needs to imply a normative idea of
human nature. Virtue ethics is committed to the idea that the goals that humans
pursue are not infinite, but constrained by human nature. Human nature does not
need, however, to be understood essentially, but as implying certain
constraints on the range of activities that are good. Thus, a virtue ethics can
be committed to a minimal view of human nature. In particular, it does not need
to hold that certain naturally found conditions (toddlers, animals, etc.)
exemplify human nature. There is nothing further from a Buddhist view than a fascination
for the non-reflective lives of babies or animals. Return
[22] The lam rim leaves out
goals in the domains that are not explicitly connected with Buddhist
soteriological goals, such as economico-political life (artha) and the life of
sensuous and artistic enjoyment (kāma), which are described in traditional
Indian culture as possible goals of a healthy human life. Hindu tradition
describe four goals, the other two being the domains of norms and behaviour
(dharma in the Hindu sense), and liberation (mokṣa).
See W. de Bary, Sources of Indian Tradition (New York: Columbia University
Press, 1958), 206-294. Return
[23] As M. Spiro, who
separates kammatic Buddhism, i.e., folk Buddhism, which is not seriously
soteriological but merely interested in good rebirth, and Nibbanic Buddhism,
true original Buddhism, in which morality is superseded by wisdom. Buddhism and
Society (New York: Harper, 1970). The view of the lam rim is here much closer
to R. Gombrich, who argues for the continuity of the village and elite forms of
practice. See Precept and Practice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971).
Return
[24] See G. Bond, The Buddhist
Revival in Sri Lanka (University of South Carolina Press, 1988). Return
[25] For example, Williams
calls morality "this peculiar institution". Ethics and the Limits of
Philosophy, 174-196. Return
[26] P. Ricoeur, Soi-Meme
Comme un Autre (Paris: Seuil, 1990). Return
[27] Atī"sa, The Lamp to
the Path of Enlightenment and Its Explanation, 125-7. Return
[28] The correspondence is
less than perfect because there are injunctions in the second and third types
of "sīla. Nevertheless, this level of practice is less concerned with
injunctions than with motivations and attitudes. Return
[29] Atī"sa, The Lamp to
the Path of Enlightenment and Its Explanation, 125. Return
[30] The issue of knowing
whether every fault is a negative karma is an interesting issue I cannot go
into now. Vinaya commentators seem to hold that this is not the case. A fault
is not necessarily karmically consequential. Return
[31] See, for example, Tsong
kha pa's discussion in his Extensive Gradual Stages of the Path to
Enlightenment (byang chub lam rim chen mo, Dharamsala: Shes rig par khang,
Block), 254. Return
[32] Atī"sa, The
Lamp to the Path of Enlightenment and Its Explanation, 127. Return
[33] Atī"sa, The Lamp to
the Path of Enlightenment and Its Explanation , 127-8. Return
[34] H. Aronson, Love and
Sympathy in Theravāda Buddhism (Delhi: Motilal, 1980). As Aronson makes clear,
meditations on loving kindness in the Theravāda tradition are not meant to
promote active sympathy towards others, but greater concentration, and balance
of mind. This does not mean that sympathy is not actively promoted, as, for
example, in the Vinaya literature where monks are enjoined to help each other,
care for sick brothers, etc. Return
[35] I am quite aware of
moving rather quickly over difficult issues involved in the ethics of the gift,
but such an issue is quite obviously beyond the purview of this essay. Return
[36] bla ma'i zhal nas de lta
bu'i tshul khrims kyi bslab ba gsum ni yang dag par blangs pa dang rjes su
bsrubs (bsrungs?) pas bdag dang gzhan gyi don dang phan pa dang be bde bar
'gyur ba'i phyir dge ba'o. Atī"sa, The Lamp to the Path of Enlightenment
and Its Explanation , 129-30. Return
[37] L. de La Vallee Poussin,
trans., L' Abhidharmako"sa de Vasubandhu (Bruxelles: Institut Belge des
Hautes Etudes Chinoises, 1971), ĪI.106. Return
[38] I find it puzzling that
many Theravāda scholars insist that insight is a specialty of this tradition.
Insight is widely discussed and practiced in Tibetan Buddhist traditions as
well as in several schools of East-Asian Buddhism. Return
[39] My description of
"the selfless nature of reality" reflects the Buddhist tradition's
own understanding, not the epistemological status of its insights. Return
[40] Another topic into which
I cannot go is the differences between equanimity and indifference. Whereas the
latter is thought by Buddhist traditions to be an obstacle, the former is a
quality which allows the person who has developed it to be equal towards all
beings. This does not mean to ignore them, as has often been misunderstood, but
to be equally compassionate towards them. Return
[41] S. Weil, Gravity and
Grace (London: Ark, 1952, 1987), 108. Return
[42] R. de Souza, "The
Rationality of Emotions", in Rorty, Explaining Emotions, 127-151. Return
[43] P. Strawson, Freedom and
Resentment (London: Meuthen, 1974), 9. Return
[44] Introspection is shown by
some studies to negatively influence decisions. When asked to examine their
reasons for making certain choices, people often become confused and change
their decisions. See, for example, T. Wilson, D. Dunn, D. Kraft and D. Lisle,
"Introspection, Attitude Change, and Attitude Behaviour Consistency: The
Disruptive Effects of Explaining Why We Feel The Way We Do", Advances in
Experimental Psychology (1989), 287-343. It should be clear that mindfulness is
quite different from introspection in that it is not reflective. It does not
objectify mental states but attempts to keep with them in a quasi-liminal way.
Return
[45] E. Langer contrasts
mindlessness, a capacity-fixing ability that tends to be rigid and inflexible,
and mindfulness, a creative and capacity-increasing faculty that enables us to
see the limitations of categories and contexts. "Minding Matters: The
Consequences of Mindlessness-Mindfulness", Advances in Experimental
Psychology (1989), 137-173. Return
[46] A related point is well
made R. Gimello, "Mysticism in its Contexts", S. Katz, Mysticism and
Religious Traditions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), 61-88. Return
Copyright 1995
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Source: http://jbe.gold.ac.uk/