The limits of discursive thought

Perhaps at least since the neo-platonic influence on Christianity, the western world has hallowed discursive thought, treating it as more pure or perfect than this world. The Gospel of John begins in this way: "The Word was in the beginning, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (my literal translation of the Greek). Liddell and Scott, the most widely used ancient Greek lexicon, defines the Greek word λόγος (English: "word") as "1. the word by which the inward thought is expressed: also 2. the inward thought or reason itself." Literally, God is conceived-of as being not far from a Platonic Form -- an archetypal concept of existence, rationality, and love, from which all less-perfect worldly manifestations of those things come. The idea was popularized in the monistic portrayal of God in Dante's Divine Comedy (i.e., as a radiant light, with the worst hell involving not physical torment, but the absence of that light), a portrayal that is still very common in western Christianity. Many academians also identify the making of contributions to Knowledge, regardless of the knowledge's possible contexts of use, as being an inherently noble endeavor.

Buddhists, including monistic Mahayana Buddhists, think something different. In 9th century BCE India, a philosopher named Uddalaka, as Thanissaro Bhikkhu says: "posited a 'root': an abstract principle out of which all things emanated and which was immanent in all things. Philosophers who carried on this line of thinking offered a variety of theories, based on logic and meditative experience, about the nature of the ultimate root and about the hierarchy of the emanation. Many of their theories were recorded in the Upanishads and eventually developed into the classical Samkhya system around the time of the Buddha" (from commentary on the Mulapariyaya Sutta, MN 1). When confronted by several monks who held this view, the Buddha replied in this way: "The Tathagata [one of the Buddha's titles] — a worthy one, rightly self-awakened — directly knows Unbinding (i.e., Nibbana) as Unbinding, he does not conceive things about Unbinding, does not conceive things in Unbinding, does not conceive things coming out of Unbinding, does not conceive Unbinding as 'mine,' does not delight in Unbinding. Why is that? Because he has known that delight is the root of suffering & stress, that from coming-into-being there is birth, and that for what has come into being there is aging & death. Therefore, with the total ending, fading away, cessation, letting go, relinquishment of craving, the Tathagata has totally awakened to the unexcelled right self-awakening, I tell you" (ibid). The sutta ends: "That is what the Blessed One said. Displeased, the monks did not delight in the Blessed One's words."

Similar prioritizing of life-as-experienced over life-as-conceived can be seen throughout the Buddhist traditions. In Theravada, the first chapter of the Dhammapada scolds monks who merely recite teachings without putting them into practice (Dhp 1.19-20). More recently, Mahasi Sayadaw, a famous monk from Myanmar, taught that, though learning intellectually about Dhamma can make meditation easier, it is the act of meditating that produces spiritual results (Sayadaw, "Satipatthana Vipassana"). Zen's koans and wisdom-transmission gestures (e.g., Mahākāśyapa's flower) are perhaps the most extreme Mahayana example of experience taking precedent over concept. All the traditions value momentary awareness, mindfulness, and meditative practice highly. Finally, even a notable western academian, Pali scholar Caroline Rhys Davids, once called the Yamaka of the Abhidhamma Pitaka (the Yamaka contains ten chapters of logical summaries of concepts present in the other books of the Abhidhamma Pitaka) "ten valleys of dry bones" (Rhys Davids, 1914).

So, why do Buddhists have the view that discursive thought is ultimately/spiritually inadequate? It is because consciousness is seen as being dependent upon more material aggregates (Pali: khandhas). Namely, dependent upon physical matter, the capability for raw sensation arises. Without sensation, perception would not be possible. Without perception, volitions and impulses (e.g., habits, preferences, etc.) would be impossible. Finally, without volition/intention, abstract cognition would be impossible. This is rather similar to Lakoff and Johnson's (1980) work on metaphor, wherein they argue that most-if-not-all cognitive function is situated within the lived experience and physical capabilities of human beings on Earth. For example, there would not be the notions of "up" or "down" if we were not standing on a planet with gravity pulling us towards the ground. Similarly, most Buddhists see human cognition as a fragile thing, not a cosmic universal, and as being fairly peculiar to humans. Other beings very likely have developed/evolved different forms of cognition, dependent on their different capabilities. For example, Varela et al (2000) showed that some birds' brains have the capability to combine color and motion in a way that humans cannot, which they called "rapid-pink" (p. 183). Similarly, one might imagine that beings with echo-location/sonar capabilities (e.g., dolphins and bats) might be able to construct thoughts of which we are incapable. Literally, imagination is constrained to thinking in terms of the things it has known through experience, even if it can re-arrange those things in unrealistic combinations.

For fathoming ontological bases of reality, then, human cognition is simply not equipped to conceive of reality from non-human perspectives. Hence, despite their occasional claims of universality, science and math are firmly rooted within human perspectives. Humans discern what objects and variables exist to be measured; humans design experiments, instruments, and analysis methods; humans interpret the results; and humans use the knowledge gained to achieve human ends in human-constructed contexts. Is this necessarily bad/wrong? No; science has achieved some great things for humanity (and some terrible things). However, it should not be exalted above the ultimately human endeavor that it is.

To reach an understanding of things that are non-human, one must learn to slow thought and to mentally detach oneself from automatic/subconscious volitional, perceptual, and sensory reactions. Not being entrapped/manipulated by natural tendencies/cravings, as most people are, is perhaps the central point of most Buddhist meditations. Once one is undistracted by those things which are peculiar to humans, one might be able to discern more basic things, such as the bhavanga/clear-light state of mind, which may be more cross-species. However, even so, Buddhists think that Nibbana is something entirely different from any form/level of existence in this world. Theravada monks often say that, once one can see the most basic levels of the mind in this world, it is fairly easy to see a different, more permanent way of being, which is nibbanic. Also, as the Buddha said, "Both formerly & now, it is only dukkha [i.e., suffering/stress] that I describe, and the cessation of dukkha" (SN, 22.86). Despite many philosophers and lay people's trying to extrapolate metaphysics and cosmologies from Buddhism, the Buddha did not only seek to contribute to human conceptual knowledge, but also to showing people how to become/transform-into beings that exist in an eternally stable and suffering-free state. As it turns out, cognition (as we know it) does not exist in such a state, though most Buddhist schools agree that nibbanic existence is not mindless. It can't accurately be described in human words, because human consciousness doesn't aggregate/arise in that state. It's just different.

How have I incorporated these things, in my vocational and personal lives? As also found by western constructivists and phenomenologists, I have become determined to remain mindful of the contexts in which knowledge is created and used, and to try to act skillfully and responsibly in context. For example, unless I am convinced that my work will probably benefit whoever reads it (as is the case with the Dhamma, and this blog), and is unlikely to be used for very destructive ends by malicious people (which my academic research could be), I am becoming increasingly reluctant to publish research for the general academic public (i.e., a-contextually). I would prefer to work within confined organizations or communities, where I can target the work for specific ethical purposes, and be fairly certain about its likely outcomes and repercussions. I also prefer speaking either one-on-one with people, or in small groups, where I can tailor my words to the audience (i.e., make my point in a way that the other person(s) is likely to hear and not find offensive). Regarding personal life, I try to remain momentarily aware and mindful of my thoughts and feelings throughout the day, to resist being controlled by cravings, and to set aside time to cultivate basic/fundamental experiences (e.g., wilderness perception). These choices are tending me towards seeking social service-oriented jobs (e.g., in non-profit and governmental organizations), to keeping my daily life fairly simple, and to making sure that wilderness is not too far away.

Print references

• Lakoff, G. & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors we live by.
• Rhys Davids, C.A.F. (1914). Buddhist psychology: An inquiry into the analysis and theory of mind in Pali literature. G. Bell: London.
• Varela, F., Thompson, E., & Rosch, E. (2000). The embodied mind: Cognitive science and human experience.