I'm a little confused about the point about the lack of rules. So if the point of Buddhist ethics is to answer the questions "How do I get out of this mess?" "What do I do now in this situation?" then it seems like rules are in order. If I am in a tornado and wonder what I should do, there are some rules that could help me: go to a low place like a basement, don't stand near glass, etc. These rules seem very helpful exactly because they help me decide how to act in a particular situation.
Of course, nobody said the rules of ethics would have to be simple; maybe they are like the rules that describe language. Rules of grammar are very very complex, but that doesn't mean there aren't any rules or that speaking is about personal communication and not about rules.
I guess I'm just wondering why reflecting on my own actions in practice and seeing what consequences came from a certain kind of action, and then deciding what is helpful and what is not isn't rule based. It sure sounds like I am taking data and refining a rule for how to behave ... aren't I?
Anyway, I love the blog. Thanks for the interesting posts.
Oh. I wrote a long reply and now I see it has not appeared in the comments. Funnily enough I was writing against the adoption of rules, and then today I came across this interview with Sangharakshita extolling rules: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKB4GHZ7CQw
Sangharakshita can certainly see the use for rules in the way that you suggest. I recall one of my preceptors suggesting that more people should treat the precepts and rules "and not break 'em!"
I'm a little wary of your suggestion though. You aren't a tornado you are a conscious being. You make willed decisions that are not simply the product of applying rules. To suggest that behaviour is rule-based is a kind of materialism - like behaviourist psychology - that seems to deny agency or will.
Take a look at the rules of grammar for instance. They aren't really rules, they are descriptions of common practices. They are useful as learning tools, but often fail to work in vernacular or idiomatic situations. Learning grammar one sees that rules are always limited and cannot fully describe a language - they do work better with dead languages, but even then one cannot rely on them. Learning the rules of grammar is not enough to be fluent language as it is used in daily life.
Like grammar, behaviour can be described by rules, but this does not equate with behaviour being governed by rules. In fact behaviour is quite often incomprehensible even with rules!
I suppose you could see the observation of action and consequence as resulting in a range of rules. You could even intentionally adopt rules of behaviour. But to be completely applicable there would have to be a rule for every action, since every experience and our response to it is unique and changing from moment to moment. This is impracticable so we create generalisations. But the generalisations don't always fit, and then what do we do? I'm greatful to the surgeon who removed my infected appendix but under other circumstances I would resist having my belly sliced open! And half killing me with anaesthetic was under the circumstances a kind thing to do, because I did not have to experience the pain of being sliced open.
In order to make sense of rules we need to understand the principles we are trying to put into the practice and how they can be applied. This emerges out of experience, though we can of course take on pre-packaged precepts and see how well they work for us.
So what I suggest is that it is useful to think in terms of principles and applications, rather than rules. Rules tend to be inflexible. They have to be constantly modified to meet the contingency of daily life. Principles do not.
Thanks for blogging on that tweet. (I'm now just catching up on favourite websites etc after a couple of weeks of travel). I would generally agree with the direction your argument has taken.
I don’t believe, however, there was anything in that tweet that suggested I knew and understood the intention of the person. Or whether there was any specific intention at all. The basic idea was that the same action (or actions) can lead to very different results, via a philosophical ‘thought experiment’.
A slightly different example, I do know of cases where people having driven drunk and came away relatively unscathed, without doing any apparent harm to themselves or others. Yet, in other cases we hear of, they might have killed some-one with a resultant devastating effect on their own lives.
It would seem that often the different outcomes might be the results of chance or haphazard events combined with such unskilful action (e.g. if there was a car in the wrong place at the wrong time). The web of causation is a complex beast with many different strands of events and actions woven into it.
Although terms like ‘moral consequences’ are often used in society by those around us; perhaps the tweet was a brief questioning (in 140 characters) of such an attitude. The tweet was not intended to think about making judgements on others. I think my conclusion would be very similar to the same one you have reached in this blog – to bring ethics down to a personal level, rather than grand philosophical theorising on it. That might be radical in some circles.
Thanks again for another thought-provoking update.
I mainly used the tweet as a starting point and didn't intend it as a direct critique - I meant to put something in to that effect but forgot in the end. Sorry. However when I questioned you on the intention thing you said (something like) that you were assuming that the intention was the same in both cases. And I thought: how could you know?
The Buddha is quoted as having said: cetanāhaṃ, bhikkhave, kammaṃ vadāmi I say, monks, that intention is action (AN vi.63)
I've mentioned this over and over on my blog. It is the intention that is morally significant. In order to understand 'moral consequences' one would *have* to understand intentions. And by intentions I mean all of those mental processes which set us in motion to act.
Also I have mentioned that not everything that happens to you is a result of karma.
Sometimes things just happen. This is only problematic when seeking explanations for why things happen. It doesn't matter when using the idea of karma as a guide to present actions. Although I suppose one needs to establish some kind of faith in the idea - but again I suggest this emerges out of personal experience, and I take it mainly to derive from how we relate to other beings.
It would seem in your further example that you are still trying to explain why things happen (i.e. a 'rear-view mirror' approach to karma) and I don't think this is helpful. One must keep one's eyes on the road, with only occasional glances in the mirror (unless one is reversing). If one chooses to drive drunk or while texting, then one runs the risk of causing injury. If one doesn't cause an injury it sets up a negative view along the lines of "I can act reprehensibly with no consequences". The view informs intentions. This means that more and more unskilful actions are sanctioned and eventually someone gets hurt - usually to our surprise! So that sort of intention to flout the guidelines for safe driving tends to create the conditions for harm (even if that harm is not ultimately from the driving). Sometimes we take calculated risks, but we always bear the consequences of our intentions. Each time we "get away" with something leaves us more out of sync with reality.
If, on the other hand, we all decided not to drive drunk or over the recommended speed then there would be about a huge reduction in traffic fatalities. Somewhere in the order or 80-90% I would guess.
'Accidents' do happen, but seldom if we are mindful.
Thanks btw for stimulating these thoughts - I found it useful to work out in more detail and articulate my approach to ethics. Hope you're enjoying your summer holidays - it's above freezing here for the first time in many days!
Wishing you (and everyone) a fulfilling new year
Jayarava
Saturday, December 26, 2009
[Image]Recently a friend of mine tweeted this:Question. Are the moral consequences of texting while driving the same if (a) you accidentally kill someone or (b) you do not kill anyone? After initially engaging with the idea I realised that there was an underlying problem. Whenever I get into discussions on ethics I end up making the point that Buddhist ethics don't really work in the abstract or hypothetically.
In this example my friend was assuming that he could know and understand the intent of the person, as though the behaviour can be isolated from the life of the person and that intentions are a fixed entity rather than a process. Acts are not isolated - we 'will' and act in a massively cross-linked matrix. The idea that a single intention gives rise to a single act is simply erroneous. Behaviour is more complex than this, and if we don't take this into account then we can draw erroneous conclusions. Indeed driving and texting are both complex acts in themselves that extend over time with intention varying from moment to moment. There is no single intention, though like a story with many episodes there may be a kind of story-arc, an over-arching goal such as sending a text, but this can never be disentangled from the matrix of conscious and unconscious willing going on all of our waking hours.
We also need to be very cautious about thinking that we understand the intentions of other people. Social psychologists have determined that humans are actually quite bad at guessing motivations: we can empathise, that is experience the emotions of another, but when we assign reasons for behaviour we tend to grossly under-estimate the importance of environmental interactions (including the social). This is called the Fundamental Attribution Fallacy. We assume that the individual is an entirely free agent, as we imagine ourselves to be, and in order to understand how another person could act in a particular way we try to imagine what kind of internal state (ignoring the external) might motivate us to act that way. An example very commonly encountered in online communication is where there is a perceived slight, and our first assumption is not that we have misunderstood, or that the person has communicated poorly, or that they are having a difficult time; our first assumption is that they acted maliciously because we can only imagine slighting someone if we were doing it maliciously. Online communication is often characterised by what is known as flaming - hot headed remarks and insults.
So it is important not to over simplify human behaviour because this does not give meaningful insights into the way people act. But even more importantly we need to think about what question is Buddhist ethics is trying to answer. Typically we try to answer the question 'why is this happening to me?' The point of Buddhist ethics is to answer the question: 'given the circumstances, what should I do?'
Very often we approach ethics from the point of view of the Abrahamic (ie Jewish, Christian, and Islamic) morality which is concerned to determine guilt, apportion blame, and direct punishment. We need to know who is responsible for what so that we can inflict some harm on them to atone for their sin. The harm we inflict cancels out the sin; and not only deters the sinner from doing it again, but will deter others from doing the same thing since they see the painful consequences. This we call "justice". It's important to spell it out like this, because even though we have left behind "an eye for an eye" our thinking about ethics is often underpinned by this kind of model. It highlights amongst other things why societies rooted in Abrahamic values have never made any progress on anti-social or illegal behaviour. In fact it is irrational to confess to a crime in our society, because to acknowledge guilt is to invite harm upon oneself. Unless one is convinced that suffering will atone for the sin, and we do not now believe this either individually or collectively (if we ever did); then it is not rational to invite society to harm oneself by acknowledging guilt. Note that guilt and blame can be distinguished - sometimes the guilty are not blamed, and therefore not punished, due to extenuating circumstances or diminished responsibility for instance.
Another aspect of Judeo-Christian morality is that it is rule based. As moral agents, in this view, we can only be moral if we can understand the rules and obey them - this is the fundamental teaching of Christianity especially. Over and above the basic rules which God has etched in stone, we know that society imposes a large number of subtle, often unspoken rules on us, and in order to avoid guilt, blame and punishment we have to conform to them - though there is always leeway. Additionally if one is suffering one wants to know "what did I do to deserve this" (i.e. what rule did I break?) because from the Judeo-Christian point of view there is no punishment without guilt and blame. We want to know how to avoid punishment - we do so by avoiding guilt and/or avoiding blame. But we also consider ordinary suffering to be a (divine) punishment, and therefore look for the rule that we have broken to deserve it.
Many people when they hear about the Buddhist doctrine of karma/vipāka assume that it reflects a cosmic retribution for evil acts. This is not helped by Tibetan versions of the doctrine which insist, contra the explicit early Buddhist position, that everything that happens to you is a result of something you have intentionally done - i.e. you do deserve to suffer! (NB: I do not believe this) The original intent of the doctrine was to focus our minds on the way the actions have consequences, particularly for how able we are to still our minds to meditate and seek wisdom. It is about deciding how to act. It is not about explaining how we got into this mess, but how we go about getting out of it. If we impose rules then we start to focus on avoiding guilt and blame all over again.
For these reasons it is important to bring ethics down to the experiential, to the personal. Buddhist ethics is not about laying down rules and judging other people. It is far more valuable to reflect on our own actions in practice and see what consequences came from what kinds of actions, to see for ourselves in actual experience, what is helpful and what is not. In this situation what should I do? What helps us to live harmoniously what helps us to achieve the calm state that we need in order to meditate and seek wisdom successfully? We do not need to concoct tricky intellectual exercises because these only lead to more theories and theorising. We need to observe ourselves in action. We need to be able to make broad brush stroke equations like: when I'm angry it's very difficult to communicate or get my point across to others. When I'm generous I receive more appreciation and kindness in return. When I serve others in some way I feel more content with my life. When I avoid gross stimulation it's easier to calm my mind for meditation. It's not rocket science.
5 Comments
Close this window Jump to comment formI'm a little confused about the point about the lack of rules. So if the point of Buddhist ethics is to answer the questions "How do I get out of this mess?" "What do I do now in this situation?" then it seems like rules are in order. If I am in a tornado and wonder what I should do, there are some rules that could help me: go to a low place like a basement, don't stand near glass, etc. These rules seem very helpful exactly because they help me decide how to act in a particular situation.
Of course, nobody said the rules of ethics would have to be simple; maybe they are like the rules that describe language. Rules of grammar are very very complex, but that doesn't mean there aren't any rules or that speaking is about personal communication and not about rules.
I guess I'm just wondering why reflecting on my own actions in practice and seeing what consequences came from a certain kind of action, and then deciding what is helpful and what is not isn't rule based. It sure sounds like I am taking data and refining a rule for how to behave ... aren't I?
Anyway, I love the blog. Thanks for the interesting posts.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Oh. I wrote a long reply and now I see it has not appeared in the comments. Funnily enough I was writing against the adoption of rules, and then today I came across this interview with Sangharakshita extolling rules: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKB4GHZ7CQw
Sangharakshita can certainly see the use for rules in the way that you suggest. I recall one of my preceptors suggesting that more people should treat the precepts and rules "and not break 'em!"
I'm a little wary of your suggestion though. You aren't a tornado you are a conscious being. You make willed decisions that are not simply the product of applying rules. To suggest that behaviour is rule-based is a kind of materialism - like behaviourist psychology - that seems to deny agency or will.
Take a look at the rules of grammar for instance. They aren't really rules, they are descriptions of common practices. They are useful as learning tools, but often fail to work in vernacular or idiomatic situations. Learning grammar one sees that rules are always limited and cannot fully describe a language - they do work better with dead languages, but even then one cannot rely on them. Learning the rules of grammar is not enough to be fluent language as it is used in daily life.
Like grammar, behaviour can be described by rules, but this does not equate with behaviour being governed by rules. In fact behaviour is quite often incomprehensible even with rules!
I suppose you could see the observation of action and consequence as resulting in a range of rules. You could even intentionally adopt rules of behaviour. But to be completely applicable there would have to be a rule for every action, since every experience and our response to it is unique and changing from moment to moment. This is impracticable so we create generalisations. But the generalisations don't always fit, and then what do we do? I'm greatful to the surgeon who removed my infected appendix but under other circumstances I would resist having my belly sliced open! And half killing me with anaesthetic was under the circumstances a kind thing to do, because I did not have to experience the pain of being sliced open.
In order to make sense of rules we need to understand the principles we are trying to put into the practice and how they can be applied. This emerges out of experience, though we can of course take on pre-packaged precepts and see how well they work for us.
So what I suggest is that it is useful to think in terms of principles and applications, rather than rules. Rules tend to be inflexible. They have to be constantly modified to meet the contingency of daily life. Principles do not.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Good question!
Mettāya mayā
Jayarava
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Whoops. Can't edit comments. Here is a clickable link to YouTube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKB4GHZ7CQw
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Thanks for blogging on that tweet. (I'm now just catching up on favourite websites etc after a couple of weeks of travel). I would generally agree with the direction your argument has taken.
I don’t believe, however, there was anything in that tweet that suggested I knew and understood the intention of the person. Or whether there was any specific intention at all. The basic idea was that the same action (or actions) can lead to very different results, via a philosophical ‘thought experiment’.
A slightly different example, I do know of cases where people having driven drunk and came away relatively unscathed, without doing any apparent harm to themselves or others. Yet, in other cases we hear of, they might have killed some-one with a resultant devastating effect on their own lives.
It would seem that often the different outcomes might be the results of chance or haphazard events combined with such unskilful action (e.g. if there was a car in the wrong place at the wrong time). The web of causation is a complex beast with many different strands of events and actions woven into it.
Although terms like ‘moral consequences’ are often used in society by those around us; perhaps the tweet was a brief questioning (in 140 characters) of such an attitude. The tweet was not intended to think about making judgements on others. I think my conclusion would be very similar to the same one you have reached in this blog – to bring ethics down to a personal level, rather than grand philosophical theorising on it. That might be radical in some circles.
Thanks again for another thought-provoking update.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Kia ora Michael,
I mainly used the tweet as a starting point and didn't intend it as a direct critique - I meant to put something in to that effect but forgot in the end. Sorry. However when I questioned you on the intention thing you said (something like) that you were assuming that the intention was the same in both cases. And I thought: how could you know?
The Buddha is quoted as having said:
cetanāhaṃ, bhikkhave, kammaṃ vadāmi
I say, monks, that intention is action (AN vi.63)
I've mentioned this over and over on my blog. It is the intention that is morally significant. In order to understand 'moral consequences' one would *have* to understand intentions. And by intentions I mean all of those mental processes which set us in motion to act.
Also I have mentioned that not everything that happens to you is a result of karma.
Sometimes things just happen. This is only problematic when seeking explanations for why things happen. It doesn't matter when using the idea of karma as a guide to present actions. Although I suppose one needs to establish some kind of faith in the idea - but again I suggest this emerges out of personal experience, and I take it mainly to derive from how we relate to other beings.
It would seem in your further example that you are still trying to explain why things happen (i.e. a 'rear-view mirror' approach to karma) and I don't think this is helpful. One must keep one's eyes on the road, with only occasional glances in the mirror (unless one is reversing). If one chooses to drive drunk or while texting, then one runs the risk of causing injury. If one doesn't cause an injury it sets up a negative view along the lines of "I can act reprehensibly with no consequences". The view informs intentions. This means that more and more unskilful actions are sanctioned and eventually someone gets hurt - usually to our surprise! So that sort of intention to flout the guidelines for safe driving tends to create the conditions for harm (even if that harm is not ultimately from the driving). Sometimes we take calculated risks, but we always bear the consequences of our intentions. Each time we "get away" with something leaves us more out of sync with reality.
If, on the other hand, we all decided not to drive drunk or over the recommended speed then there would be about a huge reduction in traffic fatalities. Somewhere in the order or 80-90% I would guess.
'Accidents' do happen, but seldom if we are mindful.
Thanks btw for stimulating these thoughts - I found it useful to work out in more detail and articulate my approach to ethics. Hope you're enjoying your summer holidays - it's above freezing here for the first time in many days!
Wishing you (and everyone) a fulfilling new year
Jayarava
Saturday, December 26, 2009