I AM A FUCKING INTELLECTUALBuddhism - It’s just like nihilism, but sillier.
Or, Buddhism - Nihilism for the intellectually dishonest.
As the Dalai Lama calls it on the first page of The World of Tibetan Buddhism, Mahayana Buddhism is “universal salvation”. This tells us immediately that the focus of such practices will be on all people, not on the individual, as he later discusses in the book. Therefore, it should be no surprise to us that our actions towards others are critical in Buddhism. If we can be expected to help with the salvation of all, certainly we can be expected to treat people as we would wish to be treated.
The Dalai Lama then tells us “this yearning to have happiness and avoid pain and suffering is innate to all of us and needs no justification”[1]. If we take this precept at its face, we have an immediate justification for “right action” towards others, and this would provide a foundation for what we consider to be moral. He says shortly after that, that Buddhism can be summarized by “adopting a worldview that perceives the interdependent nature of phenomena…and based on that, leading a non-violent and non-harming way of life.”[2] He here is foreshadowing the idea of emptiness that is later discussed, and how it forms the basis for a moral life as I have earlier described it. Not only are all things dependent and empty, but because all things are dependent and empty, we are all responsible for the suffering of ourselves and others. He goes on, on page 18, to describe the various “non-virtues”, or general categories of actions that should not be taken, which can lead to internal suffering, or causing suffering in others. Morality is “the foundation of the Buddhist path.”[3]
The relationship between compassion and emptiness is intrinsically linked to the wisdom sutras, where, as the Dalai Lama states, we are “encouraged to expand the scope of…contemplation on the nature of suffering so as to encompass all other sentient beings.”[4] Suffering is explained in Buddhism as being directly linked to ignorant thoughts on the nature of reality and the dependence of phenomena, or lack of true “intrinsic-ness” of anything. If all are dependent, than naturally an “altruistic” compassion must arise.
The first chapter of Introduction to Emptiness elaborates on a similar point – that without understanding our connection to all things, we cannot possibly be happy. Since we do not exist independently, that is to say, there is no intrinsic I in the world, all happiness must be by definition dependent. We all affect each other, and therefore must take care in our actions, words, and thoughts.
The Dalai Lama takes a sort of matter-of-fact approach to these arguments which I feel can, at times, lack sophistication. For example, he explains the process of making friends, and what a real friend versus a false friend is, e.g. a friend who cares for you, versus a friend who is exploiting you for your money or other resources. [5] He goes on to say “it is impossible to make friends through hitting them and fighting with them”[6]. It is these sorts of justifications, which are often used to explain the idea of the Buddhist moral life, and are given with the intonation of prima facie truth that we are meant to “just get”. Certainly, many people might be inclined to agree with the Dalai Lama on points such as these. Unfortunately, this lacks rigor. I accept that it is prima facie true that phenomena are interdependent, and that, for example, we do not make friends by hitting people and fighting with them. But this does not then lead to an explanation of what is or is not moral or ethical. It leads, literally, to an explanation of how not to make friends, and that is all it leads to.
The Dalai Lama and Buddhist teachings in general seem to give a special weight to the inherent human desire to minimize their own suffering, that they do not give to other inherent aspects of humanity. If an “inherent desire” to minimize one’s suffering carries such moral weight, why not the inherent desire to see one’s self as intrinsic? Why are we acknowledging one inherent desire as important and morally significant, while denying the inherent-ness of all other things? I suppose here is where the idea of conventional existence might come in to play. It is laboriously explained throughout the text of The World of Tibetan Buddhism, that while things in general lack selfness, they still exist in the conventional sense. But again, we are lacking in rigor when we speak in such a manner. What is “conventional existence” exactly? At no point do I find this term to be adequately defined or explained. At no point do I find the term to be explained at all. If we take the term literally, and assume that it must mean what the dictionary tells us it does – agreement, or “the usual way of doing things” – then again, we have said not very much at all. What a Buddhist is effectively saying when he argues that something may exist conventionally but not intrinsically, is that it exists because we all agree that it exists. Of what use, intellectually, is such a term, “conventional existence”? If we all agree that there is a unicorn in my closet, there is still not a unicorn in my closet.
This reminds me somewhat of the argument that, even if god does not literally exist, we may say that he does because many people act as if he does. Therefore “god” affects the universe, and exists, even if not as a literal being. It is this kind of flawed reasoning that ideas such as “conventional existence” versus “real existence” can lead towards. The god argument is easy enough to debunk. You may say that the concept of god affects the universe under such an example. You may not say that god literally and directly has such an affect. This conceptual god can perform no miracles, no divine interventions, no resurrections. There is a qualitative difference between this conceptual god of “conventional existence”, and a real, actual god. My point here is not to go on a tangent, but to point out that such loose definitions of what is real, or definitions of any point of philosophical contention, can lead to wildly erroneous conclusions. This is incredibly problematic.
Ignoring these problems for the time being, we are asked to consider the “practical usefulness” of the teachings of emptiness and compassion, and their relation. Do I see a practical usefulness in them? Certainly I do. If we define a world as good through the minimization of suffering, which strikes me as a very utilitarian perspective, than yes, that is what makes a good world. But we have to at least accept the (admittedly non-practical) fact that we are merely asserting that these things are necessary or good. I agree with much of what Buddhism teaches, in term of how we should act, how we should think, and even the literal ideas surrounding emptiness, selflessness, or lack of intrinsic-ness.
I simply do not connect the three. I take a more practical-nihilistic approach. On the one hand, I do fall into the “trap of nihilism”, as the Dalai Lama effectively calls it, in that I see the selflessness of all things, and see that they, as is mentioned in Introduction to Emptiness, do not stand up to “ultimate scrutiny” or ultimate examination. Nothing is anything or means anything. Therefore, in the literal sense, there actual is no morality, and our actions do not matter.
That being said, I take a practical stance from the point of view of selfishness. I sort of apply the idea of the “invisible hand of the market” to my own morality. That is to say, although I do not ascribe meaning to actions, I personally care, at least instinctively and emotionally, about minimizing my own suffering, and maximizing my pleasure, in the utilitarian sense. Therefore, I do take the Dalai Lama’s sort of prima facie argument about the meaning of suffering to be true, but only in the context of myself and how I literally feel emotionally on a daily basis, not in any greater intellectual or moral sense. In other words, I, and others, must act according to ultimately meaningless moral and ethical standards in order to minimize the emotional affects of our own suffering, and maximize the emotional effects of our pleasure.
The end result of my practice and beliefs is the same as the end result of connecting emptiness with compassion. I simply take the shortcut towards selfishness. That is to say, if acting with compassion is somehow based on the idea that emptiness leads to a certain ethical and moral code, one that is necessary for attainment of Nirvana, we are in effect taking a selfish action. No matter how hard we may try, no matter how strongly we may believe otherwise, we by our very nature become Buddhists because we want to attain Nirvana for ourselves. There is no humanly possible way to avoid self-interest. Even the very act of minimizing our own caring for self-interest in becoming a Buddhist, is, because of this, simply another act in our own self-interest.
This argument may unfortunately boil down to mere difference of opinion. However, if human nature has taught us anything, it is that we care about our own self-interest. Entire economic systems have been founded not only on the truthfulness of this concept, but on the idea that so-called enlightened self-interest will lead towards what is best for us all.
I see Buddhist practice in this light. It is, combined with its particular moral code, at best, enlightened self-interest. Does that mean that it is impractical? On the contrary, this code, this compassion, is very practical. It’s every bit as practical as my particular brand of nihilism. The only difference, in my opinion, is that I choose not to lie to myself about the nature of my system or its ethical code. I have no choice but to operate a certain way, or suffer a terrible (but meaningless) fate in society. Buddhists face the same dilemma, and brand their code as “compassion” or “ethics”. I say this is self-deception.
