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/
Update: 01-12-2004
