Mudita and Individualism
Amod (whom I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting, and who did not leave an e-mail address to which I can reply) left the following comment in response to my explanation of the title of my blog:
Your site is a really interesting application of the idea of mudita, to say the least. I don’t entirely agree with it, but I salute your creativity. Having studied some Pali, I would like to point you to one technical detail: the A in “mudita” is long and the I isn’t, which means that (at least in Pali) it should be pronounced roughly with the accent on the last syllable and not the second (moo-dee-TAH, not moo-DEE-ta).
What’s interesting to me here is not the correction of the (fairly standard, Americanized) pronunciation, but rather what I interpret as a kind of amused discomfort with my application of the concept “mudita” to the American values of success, prosperity, and treating individuals as ends in themselves.
When I wrote about the relationship I perceive between mudita and individualism, I was aware that some Buddhists, who have something of a lien on the word “mudita” as one of the core practices in the Buddhist path, would likely be uncomfortable with my application of the word within the context of individualism.
At the same time, the notion of regarding “happiness at another’s success” or “sympathetic joy” as a virtue — while looking suspiciously upon those who achieve anything but the most ascetic forms of spiritual success — strikes me as a regrettable inconsistency, at best. It sounds more to me like the remnants of class-envy socialism than Buddhism. And, indeed, most American Buddhist practitioners appear more sympathetic to socialism than to a freedom-loving political philosophy such as libertarianism.
Certainly, some of the more superficial American ideals of success (rock stars and sports heroes both come to mind) can be vacuous and even spiritually harmful. But the basic notion of achieving financial success — through hard work and mutual exchange to mutual benefit — can be amazingly beneficial not only to the one who achieves such success, but to everyone with whom he trades.
And so I welcome further exploration of this topic by you, Amod, or anyone who wishes to elaborate on why mudita might not be compatible with the view that each individual’s life should be regarded as an end in itself. I listen with an open mind and heart, as this is an area in which I am very interested.
UPDATE (8/9/03) - Amod has been kind enough to post a response in the comments section below, and it’s worth reading. I look forward to replying after I’ve caught up on my Atlasphere workload.
I liked your comment concerning the dissonance between a distaste toward the appreciation of material values and the embracing of spiritual success. There is a psychological reason behind this which I find rather interesting. If we reflect on the times in our lives which we found to be most satisfying we would probably find one of two things to be true: either we were extremely focused on some external goal, conversation, or other outward construct or we were focused inward deep in thought or meditation.
In general, I’ve found that people, for whatever reason, tend to have a preference of one over the other. There is a greater activation energy, if you will, required to find value in the psychological tack for which we initially lack affinity. This lack of affinity distracts us from the orientation that seems to provide the most benefit, pleasure or reward.
I think that the tension between Eastern and Western societies is not a necessary intellectual one, but a probable psychological one.
Jim Heaps-Nelson
Of course, I didn’t say anything in the previous comment about WHY I disagreed with your application of the mudita concept. But let me fill in at least some of that void now:
First, the concept mudita is rarely discussed without reference to its partner concept of karuna, or compassion for the suffering. A typical metaphor is that mudita is the attitude of a mother watching her child happily at play, while karuna is the attitude of a mother whose child is sick or hurt. The socialism of contemporary Buddhists is surely tied to karuna, rather than an absence of mudita. The idea is to alleviate the suffering of the poor, not to envy the rich. (Ayn Rand, of course, thinks pure villainous envy is the real motivation behind socialism, but she doesn’t exactly have a deep understanding of the viewpoints that oppose hers.)
Second, as I think your comment (and James’s) suggest, classical Buddhism sees suffering as fundamentally rooted in craving and delusion, not in poverty or material deprivation. The wealthy can be, and frequently are, as miserable as the rest of us — they too will get old, they too will die, they too will watch their loved ones die, to say nothing of all the everyday frustrations they will undergo (managing their money, dealing with underlings and so on...) And striving after wealth is often (though not always) tied to a craving for that wealth. Wealth itself doesn’t alleviate your suffering, but trying to get more of it makes your suffering worse. One reason I think socialists are often accused of envy is a sense that their economic policies, in pursuit of equality, shrink the overall size of the economic pie — thus hurting the rich more than they help the poor. But according to this reasoning, the wealth of the rich doesn’t really matter a whole lot.
Now, according to that second view, you wouldn’t think Buddhists would be socialists either, just quietists — if wealth doesn’t help, why bother trying to get it redistributed? Surely they would just keep their noses out of politics, as indeed many Buddhists have done through the ages). Still, I think Buddhists have often recognized (and contemporary Buddhists are especially apt to recognize) that some bare minimum of wealth is necessary, or at least extremely helpful, for alleviating craving. If you eliminated your craving for food to the point of not eating at all, you’d probably die before you got to your other cravings. And in terms of point #1 I think one can make a strong case that taking care of everyone’s most basic physical needs will help lead them to a point where they can take care of their spiritual needs — and that spending money on doing so will be more helpful than keeping it in the hands of the rich.
I hope that will go some way as to explaining why, even though class envy is not particularly Buddhist, socialism (at least in the weak sense of social democracy and government programs to provide for the poor) can be. (I’d briefly add that individual envy can drive capitalism as much as class envy does socialism.) Having said all that, I will add that Buddhism isn’t necessarily suspicious of wealth as such. Classical Buddhist thought includes something like the recognition that wealth needs to be there for it to be redistributed; after all, the earliest Buddhist monks, including the Buddha himself, often depended on wealthy merchants! Great generosity is widely praised — the kind of great generosity that requires great wealth to exist in the first place. So there is some ambiguity here.
Finally, though I wasn’t thinking of individualism previously here, I would also add that there is a very strong tension between Buddhism and individualism (in the sense of “the view that each individual’s life should be regarded as an end in itself,” as you put it) because Buddhists (usually) don’t believe there is such a thing as an individual self in the first place. Indeed attachment to one’s own illusory self, treating that self as the supreme end, is often considered to be the paradigm form of delusional craving.
I enjoyed Amod’s thoughtful comments, but found his theory of wealth wanting. For example, his thesis that redistribution of wealth is necessary to provide a minimum amount to everyone so that they may get on with the pursuit of spiritual goals seems to contradict the empirical evidence. Here in the US, for example, the upper class is also the most slender class, on average. The next most slender class is the middle class, again, on average. The fattest class is the welfare recipient class, which on average is the class with the fattest asses. (Perhaps residents of lands with more traditional economic and caloric limitations will find this simple modern American fact hard to believe.)
And America’s poor neighborhoods prior to the imposition of welfare were virtually free of violent crime by modern standards. And literacy rates at all levels have plummetted during the same interval, while illegitimacy, previously very low to non-existent even among poor blacks, has skyrocketed among all classes, but primarily for poor blacks.
So directing mental effort towards work seems to be spiritually rewarding, just as Ayn Rand said it is. And having one’s livelihood just handed to one from the fruits of another’s labor seems to be spiritually impoverishing. It promotes crass cravings for food, alcohol, gambling, truancy, cheap uncommitted sex, rap music, expensive sneakers, noisy overpowered cars, long baggy short pants, teenage pregnancy, prostitution, drugs, domestic abuse, gang violence, daytime television, and the remaining litany of ills of modern inner-city life.
While Amod says Buddhists seem to appreciate wealth for the opportunity it provides for generosity, he says that otherwise the wealth of the wealthy doesn’t matter a lot. Well to the contrary, the wealth of the wealthy is vital for investing in the economy so that the the whole pie gets bigger and so that there are opportunites for the poor to support themselves with work rather than with handouts or muggings. As radio personality Larry Elder’s father used to tell him, “he never got a job from a poor person.”
And I would like to elucidate one point of Ayn Rand’s background that Amod apparently is unaware of: Surviving the Bolshevik Putsch and subsequent Russian Civil War of 1918-21 provided her with a golden opportunity to be confronted with “viewpoints that oppose hers” good and hard, and in great profusion. Her deep understanding of them is presented in her works such as _We the Living_, _Atlas Shrugged_, and the essays “The Lessons of Vietnam”, parts I and II.
Buddhists believe in the doctrine of _ahimsa_, or non-violence. Ayn Rand was the first person to have the insight and courage to develop and promote a philosophy making possible an entire society based on non-violence. Let us hope that in the future Buddhists and Objectivists may continue to have fruitful exchanges.
Bill Nevin
Houston, Texas
I’m quite aware of Ayn Rand’s Russian refugee background. I think that’s very likely the reason why she has no understanding of her foes, why her fictional villains are caricatures and her journalistic descriptions of her foes are juvenile. Her terrible experiences filled her with the venom, bitterness and hatred that fill nearly every seething page of her writings (at least those that deal with the left). “Deep understanding” of her foes? Up there with Rush Limbaugh and Al Sharpton. Socialism is no more motivated by envy than libertarianism is by hatred of the poor.
Terror and hatred — in which Rand’s childhood was bathed — are antithetical to understanding. The mouse does not understand the cat; it merely avoids it.
As for making possible an entire society based on non-violence: preposterous. Every society uses violence to enforce its laws, and Rand’s would be no exception. Thieves would be punished in such a society, just as they (and tax cheats) are now. A brief survey of Objectivist web sites today will confirm how comfortable they are with violence, especially in war. (Yes, I’m quite aware of the old libertarian saw about “initiatory” force, but retaliatory force is still force no matter how you slice it. Non-violent, no way. Sure, an Objectivist society could be non-violent IF everybody followed the rules voluntarily. But so could socialism.)
Buddhism requires compassion. While compassion is the central value of Mahayana Buddhism, it is vital to other strains as well. I think compassion may be compatible with libertarianism, given certain factual beliefs about the ways economies run. I think you’ve done a decent job of demonstrating that fact. I disagree with several of your economic claims, but I will let them stand because I don’t have time to get into a sustained debate on those issues; my interest here is specifically in Buddhist ethics.
Compassion is, however, utterly incompatible with Objectivism, a philosophy devoted to attacking it in all its forms. Your point makes a strong case why you can (with some difficulty, I think) be a Buddhist libertarian. But a Buddhist Objectivist is as absurd as a square circle. (For the record, that last is one of the very few points on which Rand and I would surely agree.)
Amod: Just briefly, I certainly agree that the idea of a “Buddhist Objectivist” is as absurd as a square circle. The two philosophies are utterly incompatible.
I see the philosophy of Objectivism, however, as lacking many of the practices that best facilitate its own standards of happiness and conscious development.
Similarly, I see Buddhism as (essentially) a beautiful set of practices for raising consciousness, but which are accompanied by an often incoherent set of philosophical suppositions.
Buddhism is psychology raised to the level of philosophy, and that strategy simply never works when you rise to the level of axioms and epistemology. Or politics.
So when you see me combining elements of Objectivism and Buddhism in one way or another — such as my application of the concept “mudita” to an individualist context — I am aware that I am very much picking and choosing.
Some people would call this blasphemy. I call it the fruits of a willingness to think independently, rather than getting locked into restrictive mind-sets.
Interesting discussion.
I don’t have a problem with the phrase “Buddhist Objectivist,” but maybe that’s because I’m speaking from “inside” of the label (meaning I live that reality), as opposed to from “outside” of it. From the outside, both philosophies look incompatible and irreconcilable, but at the same time, it depends on whose definition of Objectivism you’re using and whose definition of Buddhism you’re using. Many people think of the Dalai Lama when they think of Buddhism and so reduce the rich, widely-varying character and spirit of Buddhism to the Tibetan variety, which as I’m sure you know is the most heavily saturated with supernatural beliefs and religious rituals. Or they think of American New Agers that call themselves Buddhists. Almost invariably people know nothing of Theravadan Buddhism (Buddhism in its original form, of which supernatural beliefs are largely irrelevant. This is astounding considering the time period.) An exception to this would perhaps be the poorly-translated portrayal of life as “suffering” and the cause of this suffering as “desire.” Many people don’t even know the Buddha was of Indian descent. “Isn’t he that fat chinese guy?” Let me go out on a limb and suggest that the average Objectivist has a similar perspective on Buddhism.
What seems to complicates things most, as you said, is that Buddhism is *primarily* a system of practices. Buddhism is not a philosophy (in the loosest definition of the word) that can ever be understood or tested by a person without them being on the inside. You can’t know *any* truths of Buddhism if you can’t sit still or stop thinking. Particularly troubling are those that wonder, “Why would I ever want to sit still or stop thinking in the first place? Life is goal-oriented action and man is a rational being that must constantly discriminate amongst different courses of action and make choices, employing logic to achieve his values and judge right and wrong in order to fight off destructive anti-life forces that seek to invade one’s mind!”
Your comment on Buddhism as psychology raised to the level of philosophy is right on, but I don’t agree with the contention that it never works. If you wanted to, you could make a good case for Ayn Rand having plagiarized Buddhism when it came to ethics. Honesty, independence, integrity, pride, rationality, self-esteem, productiveness, non-intiation of force and even objective reality and selfishness in general. Remember, the Buddha was the ultimate individual, leaving his wife and kids and kingdom to selfishly pursue his values (much like Galt’s Gulch). I’m really not trying to equate the two philosophies; rather, I am pointing out their shared currents: Both philosophies root their ethics in the functioninig of the human mind. The standard of value in Objectivism is a man’s own happiness, and Buddhism shares that value (albeit with a much greater understanding of the nature of happiness). Neither of them are mistaken for this — To me, it seems an inescapable fact of human existence that you can’t discuss ethics without psychology. Furthermore, Buddhism offers a far more expansive system of ethics that transcends Objectivist ethics because of its superior grasp on the human mind. Virtues that stand out in my mind are non-attachment (mistakenly labeled “eliminating desire”) and non-resistance (the *practice* of “A is A”).
If someone were to ask for my philosophic orientation, they would most likely be looking for a concise label (ya know, for unit economy) and the most succinct way for me to communicate that might be “Buddhist Objectivist.” (Of course, then I’d have to explain myself...) At the same time, I have no attachment to the label... it’s just something I pull out of my toolbox to rapidly facilitate understanding.
Just wanted to chime in “briefly.” Thanks for facilitating these discussions!
Three years, Josh - that must have been quite the workload!!
Josh: I’m cautious with claims about Buddhism being primarily a set of psychological practices, especially when meditation is taken as preeminent among those practices. Most Buddhists in history never meditated. This is, of course, no reason for an Objectivist (or someone who adheres to any other philosophy) to avoid adopting Buddhist-developed practices; but I do think there is a great deal to be learned from Buddhism beyond those practices.
I certainly don’t have any objection to mixing traditions, as such. I do worry if the mixing produces contradictions (like, say, if an Objectivist thought he believed in karuna).
Marshall: There’s more supernaturalism in Theravada Buddhism than you’d think. The most obvious place it comes into Theravada thought is the idea of rebirth; but beyond that, visit any Theravada country and you’ll see plenty of the kind of magical practices you might associate more with, say, Mexican Catholicism. Some of those practices have been around for thousands of years, too.
Why do you object to the translation of duhkha as “suffering”?
Amod,
Here’s a brief answer to your various arguments:
All the empirical evidence I have seen suggests that socialism create more suffering than it alleviates, despite the (sometimes) best intentions of its proponents.
I’m aware there are Buddhists who don’t meditate, but in my judgment they have discarded the essential teachings of Buddhism. A cursory review of the original Suttas will show that the Buddha saw meditation as central to the path of awakening.
I guess the reason I’ve not responded to your arguments in three years is that they seem like relatively unoriginal ways of thinking through these issues.
You’re advocating a very traditional perspective, and that’s fine, but it’s just not very interesting to me.
Sorry,
Joshua
Well, the suttas do claim that meditation was central to the Buddha’s own awakening, and it is one part of the path that’s advocated in the suttas. But it is only one part, rarely emphasized over ethical conduct and philosophical understanding. (The suttas that emphasize meditation, like the Satipatthana and Samannaphala, are the exception and not the rule.) Indeed, even for the Buddha himself, what meditation did above all was bring him a philosophical understanding of the way that the world works.
And I wouldn’t actually say I’m advocating a “traditional” perspective myself. As I said, I don’t have objections to mixing traditions - I do it myself. But I will say that the most important thing I’ve learned from Buddhism is an ethical or psychological claim - that suffering comes in large part from craving - and I didn’t get that from meditating. I’ve done a Goenka vipassana course (and my parents swear by it), but it didn’t do much for me. So I do find it important to stick up for non-meditative aspects of Buddhist tradition. If they’re not what you’re interested in exploring at the moment, that’s fine; we all have our priorities. But I would at least urge you to keep an open mind to those other sides of the tradition. You might someday come to find them equally valuable.
Amod,
Thanks for these clarifications. Some of your points touch on a broader topic I have been thinking about, which I’ve just outlined in a new post called Buddhist Psychology vs Buddhist Philosophy.
I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
Joshua