Einstein talks about “spirit.” But not in a religious sense.
Buddhism without supernaturalism leaves reality
For me, giving up religious addiction isn't done "cold turkey," all at once. It's a gradual process. I discarded the most ridiculous notions early on, but afterwards I find myself letting go of faith-based beliefs bit by bit.
Buddhism and Taoism are examples of this.
I've given away quite a few of my books in these genres that I couldn't bear to read any more. Even Zen books. Just because spirituality comes in an "Eastern" guise doesn't mean it is free of the dogmatism and supernaturalism that infects Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.
So now I'm only able to enjoy Buddhist and Taoist writings that make scientific sense. Or at least aren't opposed to a rational, experiential understanding of everyday reality.
Which explains why I've started reading "Buddhist Biology: Ancient Eastern Wisdom meets Modern Western Science." I read a review of David Barash's book in New Scientist.
(In case the review disappears from the New Scientist web site, I'll include it as a continuation to this post.)
Here's some excerpts from the first chapter that I resonate with.
Full disclosure: I have been a practicing biologist for more than four decades and an aspiring Buddhist (or "Buddhist sympathizer") for about as long, but I am definitely more the former than the latter. I have no religious "faith," if faith is taken to mean belief without evidence.
Indeed, I have a powerful distrust of organized religion and a deep aversion to anything — anything — that smacks of the supernatural. Give me the natural, the real, the material, every time.
…I am a Buddhist atheist, a phrase that may seem contradictory but that has legitimacy not only in my case, but as a description of many others, of whom the former Buddhist monk and current scholar and author Stephen Bachelor is best-known.
…By contrast, it is hard to imagine a Muslim or Christian atheist, since the terms are oxymoronic: they contradict each other.
…a "Christian" who doesn't believe in the divinity of Jesus would seem not only a poor Christian but no Christian at all. Interestingly, Jewish atheists are comparatively abundant, probably because unlike Islam and Christianity, whose followers are defined as those who espouse the tenets of their religion, Jews are defined as much by their ethnicity as their religious beliefs. There are also many "Jew-Boos," people who identify both as Jewish and as Buddhist.
…High on the list of Buddhist absurdities are the phenomenon of iddhi, supernatural events that are supposed to be generated by extremely skillful and committed meditation. They appear often in Buddhist texts and I don't believe a word of them.
…The traditional Buddhist cosmology is, however, very specific, and more than a little weird, with the world composed of thirty-one levels.
…A final example in which I (and many other Buddhist sympathizers) part company with traditional Buddhist beliefs concerns the doctrine of reincarnation…. For those of us interested in reconciling Buddhism with science in general and biology in particular, traditional reincarnation remains a pronounced and irreconcilable outlier.
…the present book will likely trouble those otherwise gentle Buddhist souls who so revere Tenzin Gyatso that they append to his name the honorific "HH," His Holiness. "The Dalai Lama" is okay with me, since that is how this particular gentleman is widely known, but even though I greatly admire him for his kindness as well as his wisdom, I cannot swallow the notion that he is any holier than thou, or me, or Charles Darwin, or anyone else. Either we are all holy (whatever that means), or no one is.
…I hold to the position that Buddhism in its most useful, user-friendly, and indeed meaningful form is not in fact a religion in the standard Western sense of the term. Rather, it is a perspective, a philosophical tradition of inquiry and wisdom, a way of looking at the world that is often perverted into a kind of "sky-god" faith complete with other nonsensical rigamarole, but, in its more genuine form, is anything but that.
Here's the New Scientist review:
Science isn’t separate from the rest of human rationality
Brains are us: a fresh thought for a New Year
The unconscious hugely influences our conscious life
Benefits of realizing you’re just a brain
Being religious or non-religious isn't an on-off, binary, this-or-that state of mind. It's a continuum. Much the same as drinking or non-drinking is.
If someone once was a serious alcoholic, changing to only drink a couple of beers a day will seem like a huge difference. He or she will think, "I'm barely drinking." But to someone who doesn't drink at all, that person will appear to still be wedded to alcohol.
These sorts of attitudes are reflected in both comments and posts on this blog. What seems non-religious to some, will look like raging religiosity to others. It all depends on where you are on a continuum. This can be called the Spectrum of Theistic Probability.
Richard Dawkins puts it this way:
- Strong Theist: I do not question the existence of God, I KNOW he exists.
- De-facto Theist: I cannot know for certain but I strongly believe in God and I live my life on the assumption that he is there.
- Weak Theist: I am very uncertain, but I am inclined to believe in God.
- Pure Agnostic: God’s existence and non-existence are exactly equiprobable.
- Weak Atheist: I do not know whether God exists but I’m inclined to be skeptical.
- De-facto Atheist: I cannot know for certain but I think God is very improbable and I live my life under the assumption that he is not there.
- Strong Atheist: I am 100% sure that there is no God.
But there is more to spiritual belief than God. Many people don't believe in God, but do believe in supernatural phenomena. They've given up a Father figure who resides in an ethereal heaven, yet hold on to other sorts of other-worldly entities.
Such as consciousness separate from the brain.
After heading down the churchless path, for quite a while I carried along this belief, or at least a "weak theist" version of it (I am very uncertain that consciousness exists separate from the brain, but I am inclined to believe that it does).
Now, though, I'm much more on level 6 of the continuum above. I live my life under that assumption that when I die, that's it. No more me. When my brain dies, so does my existence as a conscious entity. I can't be certain of this, but it seems like by far the most likely possibility.
A blurb on the cover of the most recent issue of New Scientist said, "Meaning of life. Learning to live with the reality of existence." Ooh… that sounded intriguing. It was the first story that I read.
Which turned out to be an interview with neurophilosopher Patricia Churchland called At peace with my brain. Or in the online version, The benefits of realising you're just a brain.
Here's some excerpts. I'll include the entire piece as a continuation to this post.
Why is it so difficult for us to see the reality of what we actually are?
Part of the answer has to do with the evolution of nervous systems. Is there any reason for a brain to know about itself? We can get along without knowing, just as we can get along without knowing that the liver is in there filtering out toxins. The wonderful thing, of course, is that science allows us to know.
Are there any implications of neuroscience that you feel unsettled by?
I'd have to say no. It takes some getting used to, but I'm not freaked out by it. I certainly understand the ambivalence people have. On one hand, they're fascinated because it helps explain their mother's Alzheimer's, but on the other, they think, 'Gosh, the love that I feel for my child is really just neural chemistry?' Well, actually, yes, it is. But that doesn't bother me.
By and large I find neuroscience liberating because it allows us to see our connections to other biological things, and because it's not full of metaphysical junk about preparing your life for the great beyond. Of course it's possible we're wrong. But it doesn't seem very likely, and that lack of likelihood is sufficient for me to not want to organise my life around this possibility. I want to enjoy it now. I don't want to make useless and meaningless sacrifices, and I don't want to trash this planet because I think a better one awaits me.
…Some might say the idea that you are just your brain makes life bleak, unforgiving and ultimately futile. How do you respond to that?
It's not at all bleak. I don't see how the existence of a god or a soul confers any meaning on my life. How does that work, exactly? Nobody has ever given an adequate answer. My life is meaningful because I have family, meaningful work, because I love to play, I have dogs, I love to dig in the garden. That's what makes my life meaningful, and I think that's true for most people.
Now, at the end of it, what's going to happen? I will die and that's it. And I like that idea, in a crazy sort of way.
