philosophical writings
It's Always Raining...(filosofia)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Universalism, utilitarianism in the context of Human Rights

-- I only ask questions, in hope that the truth may be revealed through the process of blowing away grains of sand from the surface. I do not 'seek' the truth, because that implies that I already know what I am looking for, and thus, what I dig up may not in fact be the truth. --

After a chat with Joana Abrisketa and Adriana today, I feel a little more convinced that I am NOT a universalist, even though Joana definitely is.

If we say that human rights are universal, it means that we are finding a zone where there are a priori principles that ALL cultures agree upon:



This excludes the logical possibility of there being a culture that wouldn't share this universal zone:



Before I continue - let me explain the distinction between a logical possibility and a physical possibility:

A physical possibility denotes the limits of a system: If I were to jump out the window right now, what would happen? I would fall to the ground.

A logical possibility denotes the limits of the imagination: Can you picture, in your mind, me jumping out the window and floating to the sky instead of falling to the ground? The answer should be "yes". However, if I ask you to imagine a triangle with 5 sides, or that 2 +2 = 18, you are unable to, because these are logical impossibilities.

But there you are - above you have a logical possibility of there being a culture that doesn't share that zone. You can visualize it - there it is. So, because it is not necessarily true, it is no longer universal in the classical sense.

Thus - the conclusion that we come to, is that Universalism is something relative. It only is true within the 'box' that is called "Universalism":



However, even if we are to accept the universality of humanitarian principles, within the physical boundaries of this world, surely we can't believe that they are applicable in every case? Thus, if the principles are universal, but their applicability in certain areas is almost impossible, this makes the argument for universal human rights very weak. This is not to say, of course, that we should be rejecting them all together - it is simply pointing out that what we call 'universal' is still, logically speaking, relative. And also, to pose the question of whether there is any utility for a right that cannot be applied?

Here, I have a quote by Socrates, from Republic 9:

"In heaven, I replied, there is laid up a pattern of it, methinks, which he who desires may behold, and beholding, may set his own house in order. But whether such an one exists, or ever will exist in fact, is no matter; for he will live after the manner of that city, having nothing to do with any other."

This poses a new question for the universalist: Do you want to live in that city? What does it mean, if you live according to those 'universal' principles?

So - on to relativism. For those of you who find universalism unsatisfying, we can examine the dichotomy.

Relativists accept that there are many points of view, and that each point of view is correct, and fully justifiable:



Which means that we have a big problem already, for the relativist:

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Universalism must be correct and fully justifiable if relativism is correct!



So where does this leave us? We have logically rejected both extremes of the dichotomy. Perhaps, we should, instead, be questioning the rigid framework that working with dichotomies imposes upon us? Accepting dichotomies, and defining the world in terms of yes/no, good/evil, black/white delegitimizes everything in between as somehow watered down versions of the two 'pure' extremes. However, it is us that create dichotomies. They are not created in juxtaposition to each other! We have drawn the boundaries ourselves. Thus, there really are a lot of solutions that we don't have to view as 'compromises'. They can have a strength of their own.

If you ask me, I subscribe to a utilitarian school of thought. I don't think that human rights exist a priori (for those of you not of a philosophical background - 'a priori' means 'first' - in other words, if something exists 'a priori', it's existence is not dependent on anything else, and so there is no question of whether or not it is true), and we are simply in a process of discovering them.

I think there are no a priori truths, ie, in this case, a priori human rights. What we have is social contract. There are certain compromises that we should all come to in order to maximize the benefit for all. There are certain individuals who would choose to ignore these agreements that we come to, and therefore we exclude them from our society, or, having strength in numbers, we punish them for not accepting our point of view. But they are not universal, a priori rights. There are always people who think differently, and within their society, if they have one, they are not wrong.

The weakness here is that I would thus have to accept in a society where it maximised the overall benefit to abuse women, ignore environmental degradation and trample over labour rights, that we should still act to maximise benefits.

I don't believe that such a society ever existed. All it means is that a handful of more powerful persons claimed that such a society existed in order to maintain the status quo. That's what I believe.

But, otherwise - just a small thought to keep in mind: Most western nations did not sign many, if any at all, treaties or conventions affirming the inviolability of 'universal' rights for workers, women, children or humans until they had built up a strong capital base.

So, a couple more questions:

Is it fair to demand of developing nations certain standards that developed nations never themselves applied whilst they were themselves developing?

Or is it, in reality, a mechanism that developed nations have developed in order to maintain their status quo of global economic disparity?

fon @ 10:04 AM link to post * *

Sunday, November 18, 2007
Alcibiades on love and a chat on vulnerability...

So, here's the story: Phaedrus, a humanist scholar; Pausanias, a sophist; Euriyximachus, a physician; and Aristophanes, a comic playwright; and Socrates, the philosopher are having dinner.

Socrates opens the theme of debate amongst the men, and it is the theme of love. Keep in mind, though, that this is ancient Greece. So, by way of analogy: People get together nowadays, and have heated debates about sex whilst drunk or high or just generally socialising. Back then it was love. And so Socrates poses the question, "What is love?"

And this has several responses.

Phaedrus argues that love is a part of human nature, and it is something beautiful, to be admired. His is the classical notion of romantic love, highly idealised:
"Love is the oldest of all gods, the benefactor of humankind, the inspiration of honor (a man would rather die than appear as a coward in the eyes of his beloved) and the spirit of self-sacrifice."

Pausanias distinguishes between base and noble love, whilst Euriyximachus, the physician sanitises love and gives it a very mechanical spin. Aristophanes reckons that we were split apart by angry gods, and we are wandering around looking for our other half (to which Socrates asks whether one would REALLY want to joined with the 'other half', physically and mentally, inseperably) if we were to find them. Then, finally, Agathon makes a few comments on the essential nature of love, at times agreeing, at times contradicting Phaedrus.

But then, in crashes Alcibiades, perhaps the only one actually IN love (with Socrates), completely drunk, and shares what he feels about the topic. And in it, he encompasses the rage, the desire, the admiration and frustration that no amount of theorising can capture.

"When we hear any other speaker, even very good one, he produces absolutely no effect upon us, or not much, whereas the mere fragments of you and your words, even at second-hand, and however imperfectly repeated, amaze and possess the souls of every man, woman, and child who comes within hearing of them. And if I were not, afraid that you would think me hopelessly drunk, I would have sworn as well as spoken to the influence which they have always had and still have over me. For my heart leaps within me more than that of any Corybantian reveller, and my eyes rain tears when I hear them. And I observe that many others are affected in the same manner. I have heard Pericles and other great orators, and I thought that they spoke well, but I never had any similar feeling; my soul was not stirred by them, nor was I angry at the thought of my own slavish state. But this Marsyas has often brought me to such pass, that I have felt as if I could hardly endure the life which I am leading (this, Socrates, you will admit); and I am conscious that if I did not shut my ears against him, and fly as from the voice of the siren, my fate would be like that of others,-he would transfix me, and I should grow old sitting at his feet. For he makes me confess that I ought not to live as I do, neglecting the wants of my own soul, and busying myself with the concerns of the Athenians; therefore I hold my ears and tear myself away from him. And he is the only person who ever made me ashamed, which you might think not to be in my nature, and there is no one else who does the same. For I know that I cannot answer him or say that I ought not to do as he bids, but when I leave his presence the love of popularity gets the better of me. And therefore I run away and fly from him, and when I see him I am ashamed of what I have confessed to him. Many a time have I wished that he were dead, and yet I know that I should be much more sorry than glad, if he were to die: so that am at my wit's end."


Symposium is just two pages long, but enough to give us something to think about: http://www.ellopos.net/elpenor/greek-texts/ancient-Greece/plato/plato-symposium.asp


So leading on from that, the topic of cruelty - well... I see an obvious link, anyhow... Getting into the head of Alcibiades (if you read Symposium, you'll understand, I think)

Anyhow, perhaps this conversation does start out on the topic of the causes of cruelty. However, it moves on to show that perhaps, the unfortunate fact is that there is no sincerity in the world, or if there is, it's in very negligible amounts. Here, Fon the undying optimist is shown that her 'leaps of good faith' in people are, in fact, not good things as she would like to believe they are...

fon: why are some people so cruel when they are hurt?

p: cos they are afraid

fon: of?

p: and they need to make themselves feel better
p: afraid of looking vunerable

fon: and what's wrong with looking vulnerable?

p: it's not an attractive atribute in this world
p: look at me

fon: what do you mean?

p: well i am indecisive . . .as u know, that means I have a weakness, which can be expolited, if someone chooses to . . .
p: so out of fear I may try to hurt someone elses feelings to make them feel no better than me
p: hypothetically of course

fon: and you think that is attractive?

p: no I think it is unattractive

fon: Here's what I think: Someone who is vulnerable can be either attractive or unattractive.

p: oooh I see

fon: By being honest, they are attractive

p: ooooh, so that is good for me, now i know why ur in love with me . . .:D
p: haha

fon: By trying to look strong, when they really aren't, they become very unattractive - especially if they do that by being cruel to others

p: i see

fon: What do you think?

p: i think people will always try to appear better than what they are and attack people who aren't - it's human nature
p: it's not a question of attractive or unattractive
p: it's a fact of life

fon: All people?

p: i am very surprised that u have problems - u seem to be sooo . . . strong and assured
p: yes, most people in my experience

fon: Well, I do tend to be quite 'strong and assured' as you put it - but i don't have a problem admitting if i feel weak

p: well . . .be careful who u admit this too
p: if u admit it to the wrong person . . . it can be a very bad thing

fon: I'd rather be honest with everyone... and if somebody wants to abuse that trust, well, what can i say... at least i am not the one living with secrets

p: very noble

fon:is it?
fon: it seems logical to me

p: yes, ur like a prince in a fairytale

fon: by harbouring negative feelings, am i not just making life more difficult for myself?

[after some random banter, a return to the topic]

fon: i value the kind of people who like to find out the truth for themselves

p: very noble

fon: stop saying that!
fon: it's just logical!

p: like i said u live like a olden day knight
p: unfortunately this logic may not serve u soo well in this day and age

fon: if you look at the big picture, it makes more sense to have principles that guide you than live in sordid self-interest!

p: sordid self interest?
p: wow
p: very profound

fon: ok, maybe you are right.... i live in my own fantasy world with principles in it

p: i think people like you, are the type that are usually describes as "taking the high road"
p: do u understand?

fon: high road?
fon: oh shit

p: it means moral high ground
p: unfortunately this is "the road less travelled"
p: haha, wow, I am very philosophical too eh?

fon: so i'm screwed in other words

p: no ur not, as long as u only associate with people on the same road as you

fon: hehe.... well, you get philosophical, talking to someone somewhat bent on philosophy

p: u got me talking in metaphors tonite
p: :D
p: philosphy is good, but don't get caught up in it too much

fon: lol... but there's no fun in associating with moral people

p: ooooh i see, so u want someone different? someone exciting?
p: then ur setting yourself up to for a "big fall"

fon: oh, i've taken that big fall many a times

p: and u'll probably take it many times again I think

fon: it's like bunjee jumping though
fon: you don't really fall, and there's no limit, really, on how many times you can do it

p:yes but u know what happens with bunjee jumping?

fon: what?

p: after u go down u get quite as high as what u originally were, and over time the stress slowly damages ur joints and muscles
p: from the strain

[more banter]

fon: well, let's call it a strength, to be able to be open about weaknesses then!

p: oooh haven't u listened to anything I said

fon: nope, i'm really stubborn
fon: aren't i?

p: i know i know

fon: haha

p: even what u told me can now be used against u
p: if i choose to

fon: yeah, but i trust you

p: don't u understand?
p: u can't trust me, that's the point

fon: but i DO

p: got it?
p: but u can't, what if I turn around and betray ur trust?

fon: I trust everyone until they prove otherwise, and even then, I prefer to give them another chance

fon: so what?
fon: I won't die if you betray my trust
fon: I'll get over it and live another day, and I'll try to understand why you wanted to betray my trust

p: NO!
p: u don't let people make mistakes, cos oneday u lose something more important than what u experienced before

fon: There's nothing wrong with losing things

p: oooh fon fon


But if anyone would like to be encouraging, please defend my argument for trust!! I believe that there is no reason to distrust anyone until they prove that they are really not worth trusting - and that by trusting people, they will, in most cases, live up to that trust. But if you start off not trusting them, you are not giving that person an opportunity to show that they are trustworthy either... My "naive" conclusion: As a general rule, trust people.

This is my own version of rule utilitarianism.

Quick rundown: Utilitarian philosphy: "maximise overall benefits"

This means, in principle, that if I borrow $20 from you, and on my way to return it to you, I see a starving beggar, I should give it to the beggar. And then, I should tell you that the beggar needed it more than you, and therefore, I didn't return your money.

So, there's something wrong with that, no?

Thus, I should extract myself from everyday situations and look at general rules that maximise benefits, instead. So now I have a rule that says, "Always return what you borrow"

Thus, when in doubt, I have a rule to fall back on (thus, rule utilitarianism).

So now I do return you the money, if I live by those principles.

Ok... so in this case, trust. I don't know whether or not to trust you - but because I have a rule that says that the best way to maximize benefit is by trusting people (if you don't trust them, you'll never ask them for anything, and thus, never benefit), now I will trust you. Obviously, this doesn't mean that I ALWAYS have to trust everyone, but at least, now I have a guiding principle. Good, no?

fon @ 9:33 PM link to post * *

Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Elephants recognise themselves

I just read an article in the guardian about the ability of elephants to recognise themselves in a mirror.

That's great! Another animal added to the list of 'self-aware beings'. But is a test of self-recognition in the mirror the only way to test this? I mean, vanity can't be the only factor in deciding that a creature is able to know itself, is it?

What would happen if it was discovered that cows, sheep, chickens, etc, had an ability to recognise themselves as a 'person' with future plans, past memories, etc? How can we KNOW that they don't? Peter Singer argues that they probably don't - and even humans up to the age of 2 don't. But we certainly don't eat 2 year old infants.

And why? Well... a desire not to suffer plays a huge role. So how is it that humans continue to justify eating meat, given that we know that all sentient beings have a desire atleast not to suffer? Are we really so selfish that we can continue to kill pigs, milk cows by attaching them to machines all their lives, coop up chickens so that they cannot move?

How can we treat creatures that all have a desire to not suffer as means to our own dietary ends, which, might I add, are not even necessary dietary ends?

What I wish for humanity: That one day, we'll all be kinder.

fon @ 9:20 PM link to post * *

Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Morality, Happiness and Freedom: The Role of a Monarch in a Modern Nation-State

The proposal of any new law or regulation of commerce which comes from ... [dealers] … ought always to be listened to with great precaution, and ought never to be adopted till after having been long and carefully examined ... [because they] ... have generally an interest to deceive and even to oppress the public.
Adam Smith


In order to discuss the concept of freedom, it is important to ask first what it is that an individual would be free to do. One view of freedom is that it means being able to do what one wants to do. This is the "primitive" view of freedom, or negative freedom as proposed by writers such as Mills and Locke: "Liberty, 'tis plain, consists in a power to do or not to do; to do or forbear doing as we will."

read more...

fon @ 12:59 AM link to post * *

Thursday, June 15, 2006
Doctrine of Annatta and Eliminativism

Introduction__________________________________________________________


For the Western reader, it may be useful to begin exploration of the concept of Anatta by comparison to a Western philosopher. Much of what is contained in Buddhist teachings are argued by Derek Parfit in "Personal Identity" (1971) and in "Divided Minds and the Nature of Persons" (1987). By comparing Buddhism to Reductionism, of which Parfit is a champion, we can contextualise the Buddhist doctrines. Parfit likens himself to Buddhist philosophy – in fact, it is said that he considers it anticipatory of his own views (Siderits, 1997, 455). However, I believe that he is wrong to interpret the Buddhist texts as containing any reference to continuity.

In this paper, I shall first explain the doctrine of Anatta as contained within the context of Buddhist discourse, then I shall examine the ways in which Parfit can be said to hold identical views, and in which ways he has differing views or purpose to Buddhism. I will not be discussing the application of Anatta across lifetimes in any detail, as that is a topic that would exclude discussion on Parfit. I will argue that where Buddhism and Parfit diverge is on the matter of psychological continuity. Also, while the Buddhist account of Reductionism leads to the incoherence of even conventional wisdom, Parfit encounters difficulties in reducing experiences further after a point, and retains conventional thought as a useful discursive tool. While the Buddhist can explain the smallest units of existence in terms of causal relations to each other, Parfit cannot, given that he places special emphasis on the importance of psychological continuity.

...download the rest from here

fon @ 6:32 PM link to post * *

Saturday, May 13, 2006
Anatta - the rejection of self

1. Continuity of the self and the doctrine of Anatta

The Buddhist doctrine of Anatta denies the existence of the ‘self’ or the soul. What is perceived to be ‘the self’ is but a combination of matter and states of mind – the five ‘skandhas’ – aligned temporally in rapid succession, so as to give an illusion of continuity. The term ‘I’ is but a convenient designation for the five skandhas (also known as name and form) – form, feelings, perceptions, predispositions, and consciousness. (2006(1) Chadha, 2004 Chadha, p. 125).

This may seem counter-intuitive, as generally speaking, one feels that they are the same person at this time as they were the previous day, or ten days ago. However, Bhante Nagasena claims that “…the duration of the life of a living being is exceedingly brief, lasting only while a thought lasts” (2004 Chadha, p. 123). Without the soul, or any continuous element, some explanation is required for the intuition that the self at t1 and at t5 are still the same.

The doctrine of dependent origination may shed some light on this. When Bhante Nagasena says “…neither as the same nor as a different person do you arrive at your latest aggregation of consciousness,” (ibid) he is referring to the aforementioned doctrine (ibid, p. 124). One combination of name and form is directly causally responsible for the next combination, in the same way in which milk is causally related to cream, which is then causally related to butter (ibid, p. 123). One does not equate the butter to the milk, but also cannot deny that it is because of that milk that the butter came to be. Thus, when he says that they are ‘neither the same’, he means they are not qualitatively or numerically identical to each other. Just as the milk and the butter are not the same thing, the person is no longer the same person from one moment to the next. When he says ‘nor are they different’, he means that they are nonetheless causally dependent on each other, and that one could not come into being without the existence of the previous stage (2006(1) Chadha).

2. Mimamsa view: Continuity of the self over time

The Nyaya/Vaisesika arguments for the self refer to ‘the best possible explanation’. They infer that since there is activity, there must be a ‘self’ that causes this activity. Also, if there are properties, there must be a self that bears these properties. Since one uses ‘I’, there must be a referent – the self. Finally, there is memory, and this is evidence of a persisting self over time (2004 Chadha, p.200-1)

The Buddhists, however, disagreed with the Nyaya arguments. For each of those four factors, they claimed, could be explained by person-stages causally succeeding each other, and that therefore, the self is not necessary as an explanation (2006(4) Chadha).

The Mimamsa arguments are an attempt at defending Hinduism against Buddhist thought. They considered the Buddhist objections to the Nyaya arguments to be valid, and therefore expanded on the Nyaya argument from memory. They agree with the Buddhists is saying that memory can be explained by means of causal relations. However, instead of saying that this is evidence for a continuously existing self, they say that this reveals the self, because in each of those stages, there is an ‘I’ that has experiences and perceives (1992 Taber, p. 203). It is not merely the perception of my laptop on an orange meditation cushion, but the knowledge that it is ‘I’ that has this experience. It is this recognition of the self as the perceiver that reveals the self in any given moment.

The next stage of this argument is dependent on the first. If it is ‘I’ that does the experiencing at any given moment, then it must be the same ‘I’ that remembers it now. If I say ‘I remember I have been sick for the past two days’, then it is ‘I’ at this moment which is equivalent to the ‘I’ of two days ago and the ‘I’ of yesterday. To reach the ‘I’ of yesterday, one could say, ‘I remember that yesterday I remembered having been sick for a day.’ Thus, the Mimamsa argument reveals a self that experiences at different stages and equates them to one another.

3. Regressive self

As already apparent from the aforementioned ‘I remember that yesterday I remembered having been sick for a day’, there is here a possibility for an infinite regress. I can say ‘I know that I know that right now I remember… etc’. It is because of this infinite possibility for regress that the Buddhist would say that the experience was not of recognising oneself as being sick, but merely of the sensation of sickness as a cognitive state, and thus, the recollection is of that cognitive state (2004 Chadha, p. 238).

There is a proposed thought experiment that could possibly help to overcome this difficulty of regress. This is to first “imagine being an elephant” and then to “imagine you yourself being an elephant” (2006(4) Chadha). If there is no phenomenological difference between these to imaginings, then this is victory for the Mimamsa. The regress problem is but a linguistic one, and not a philosophical one, if this is the case.

However, both of these experiences are entirely fictional. I can imagine being an elephant or myself being an elephant, but there are no phenomenological differences between them simply because this is not a physical possibility. If I were to imagine ‘cooking dinner’ and ‘I myself cooking dinner’ the picture becomes different. In fact, I can easily understand cooking dinner, but the addition of ‘I myself’ makes the concept more difficult to comprehend, as I must then ask ‘How do I imagine an ‘I myself’?’

Of course, only my experience is not enough to discount the Mimamsa argument. It is worth noting that the Mimamsa argument is still an account that offers inferential evidence for ‘the self’ and can not provide empirical evidence. It is saying that what is revealed through these experiences is a ‘self’ (1992 Taber, p. 204). This view is troublesome for the Buddhist view, as Buddhist philosophy can not provide a more plausible alternative, yet neither is the Mimamsa argument more plausible than the Buddhist. The Mimamsa requires one to accept the ‘self’ as being ‘revealed’, whereas the Buddhist will argue that it is not the ‘self’ that is revealed, but a ‘person-stage’ consisting of name and form.

References

  1. Chadha, M. 2006, ‘Topics in Indian Philosophy 2006 – Lecture 9: Buddhist View: The Doctrine of Anatta (No-Self), Monash University
  2. Chadha, M. 2004, PHL2850/3850 Topics in Indian Philosophy – Study Guide and Readings, Churchill, Monash Distance Education Centre
  3. Taber, J. A. 1992, ‘The Mimamsa theory of self-recognition’ reprinted in PHL2850/3850 Topics in Indian Philosophy – Study Guide and Readings, Churchill, Monash Distance Education Centre
  4. Chadha, M. 2006, ‘Topics in Indian Philosophy 2006 – Lecture 8: Mimamsa argument for the Persisting Self’, Monash University

fon @ 8:50 AM link to post * *

Friday, March 24, 2006
Hinduism and Buddhism

What does one know upon being born? According to the Yoga sutras of Patanjali, nothing is known, except for the fear of death. “For even a child just born trembles at the sight of a murderous thing” says the verse, and this suggests that this fear of death comes from a previous life-time. Just as one can only fear fire if one has once been burned, so one can only fear death if one has once before died. This suggests that the fear of death is deeply embedded in soul of one who has just recently died and been reborn.

Why is it, then, that no other fears or memories reside in the soul of the one reborn? Is it only “murderous things” that make children tremble, or is it perhaps simply anything loud and/or unfamiliar? In fact, most children under about two seem to not bat an eyelid at death, blood and gore, seemingly not recognizing it as anything out of the ordinary. The argument seems opportunistic. One could equally argue that due to the proximity of the experience of death, the soul is familiar with and therefore not scared of death until it forms an attachment to life. The underlying assumption is that going through the experience of death will leave one fearful. By analogy, though, if one is afraid of jumping into dark water, once one leaps in and dives under, will that fear not subside? Thus, going through death should cause a cessation in the fear of death, not vice versa.

If we accept transmigration, then we must ask why all beings do not fear death. Transmigration requires all beings, from a cooking pot[1] to a priest to fear death, as the knowledge is stored in the soul, and even the cooking pot has a soul. On the assumption that a cooking pot does not fear death, we then have to limit this theory to all sentient beings, thus bringing us to the Buddhist thesis.

Buddhist tradition rejects the soul. The physical and the mental are all lumped together as being purely matter. In the Buddhist view, every second matter changes and particles are in motion. The theory suggests that a person is not a stable entity, not even in one lifetime, and that can not see the same person twice. Just as the saying goes “You can’t step into the same river twice” – so the Buddhist philosophy views the world. When analyzing the theory of self, this seems problematic. The people around a person do not become unrecognizable from one moment to the next.

However, this philosophy asks one to think of oneself as being composed of particles that affect each other, just like billiard balls bouncing against each other on a table. This applies to both physical as well as mental matter.

Since the particles of the psyche and body are constantly in a state of flux, it is as though one dies every moment and is reborn in every moment. This may seem disturbing and lacking in continuity. However, the Milindapanha explains that although a fire passing from one torch to the next may not be same fire, the two flames are still necessarily causally linked. As long as nothing drastic happens, the particles of matter that form a person will not have been greatly affected so as to render a person unrecognisable

However, in certain circumstances, drastic circumstances do happen. Perhaps the person’s consciousness is destroyed, and the matter of the psyche is propelled to the mind of a developing foetus. Perhaps the leg is amputated, and this deteriorates, causing plants to grow, food to be consumed, and another person being nourished. No soul is needed in this chain of causality, and thus, causality without a soul. Everything is intrinsically connected, and thus, there is no need for a soul to be the carrier of karma – whether good or bad. Looking back to the billiard ball analogy – the angle at which one ball hits another determines the course that next ball will take.

This analogy of billiard balls may support a criticism of the theory of karma, though. It seems that if we are nothing but billiard balls, be it in the Hindu or Buddhist account, then this is terribly deterministic, and we really have no control over our own lives and futures. It may seem that life and all that will come to occur is all pre-decided by events that we no longer remember or connect ourselves with.

In either account, unless one is conscious, one truly is like that billiard ball. However, an unconscious being cannot accumulate karma, but only burn it off precisely by being bounced around like that billiard ball. Once there is sentience, the only thing that Karma can control is circumstance. Perhaps a person can not control the gust of wind blowing a window open, causing the house to flood with rainwater. However, a person can determine whether to stand and watch one’s possessions swept away, or to take a bucket and scoop away the water. A sentient being, then, in both accounts, has the power to propel itself in any direction, with the weight of past Karma as a springboard only.

It is the decisions that a sentient being makes, then, that cause positive or negative turns in this and future lives. It can then be argued that in fact, the theory of Karma does not take away one’s control of a lifetime, but rather, that it means that control is not only present in this lifetime, but extends to consequent lifetimes. It means that one can perform actions in this lifetime as to influence the outcome of a future life. In a famous Thai television series, a man is reborn homosexual as a result of inadvertently (through his actions) causing the death of his wife and two mistresses in a previous lifetime. His rebirth is a result of having caused so much suffering due to lust for women. Instead, he is born with no desire for them. In this lifetime, he has accounts to settle with the people who surrounded him in the previous lifetime. How he chooses to move from here is his decision and will determine his next life.



[1] On another note: The cooking pot also ‘suffers on flames’ for its negative karma. However, fire does not in any way damage a cooking pot, the way fire damages a human being. If water is the element of a fish, then is not fire the element of the cooking pot? If the fish is not suffering from being under water, then I don’t see why the cooking pot is suffering for being on the fire.


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