Buddhism, investigation and dogma

Some of us, when we start to delve into Buddhism, are surprised to find that, apparently, the Buddha encouraged his followers not to undertake practices because of “authority, logic, train of thought,” etc. Instead, they were encouraged to follow practices that “they know for themselves as skillful, blameless, praised by sensible people,” etc. I have added the relevant quote below as translated by Bhikkhu Sujato (Kesamuttisutta, AN 3.65).

So, Kālāmas, when I said: ‘Please, don’t go by oral transmission, don’t go by lineage, don’t go by testament, don’t go by canonical authority, don’t rely on logic, don’t rely on inference, don’t go by reasoned train of thought, don’t go by the acceptance of a view after deliberation, don’t go by the appearance of competence, and don’t think “The ascetic is our respected teacher.” But when you know for yourselves:

“These things are skillful, blameless, praised by sensible people, and when you undertake them, they lead to welfare and happiness”, then you should acquire them and keep them.’ That’s what I said, and this is why I said it.

This sutta is loved and praised by many modern Buddhists who see in it proof that Buddhism is not about doctrine, dogma, or faith but about free inquiry and finding the truth for ourselves. In these times when reason and science have largely replaced faith and religions, to many of us Buddhism is much easier to digest after hearing that it urges us to try and test things ourselves instead of taking them in blindly.

I was also glad to hear this the first time. Then, as I kept attending retreats and reading, the amount of information about Buddhism, including practices, types of meditation and theories of mind started to feel overwhelming and way beyond my “testing capacity”. How are we supposed to inquire and find out by ourselves when there are dozens of Buddhist lineages, thousands of teachers, and a vast amount of different practices? And especially when practice starts to bear visible fruits after a period of practice which can be short (as in a few months) but also quite long (years or even decades).

I often think that truly testing and “knowing for myself” would require much more than a lifetime, and I find myself following this or that teacher based on how their teachings, explanations, and ways of behaving resonate with me. How they resonate with my intuition, my character, my views of the world and the spiritual path, my current moment and life situation. And then, yes, trust is gained when I see that a given approach or practice correlates with lower levels of suffering in my life and more sense of meaning, connection to others, love, compassion, etc. Yet this effect can arise from several causes beyond our spiritual practice: different life moments maturing through time and life experiences (not necessarily due to practicing), different social circles, a sense of belonging and connectedness through having a spiritual community, etc.

Growth and liberation from suffering can come from a variety of causes. When we have a spiritual practice, we tend to attribute it to that. But can we be sure about this? What are the consequences for us of not questioning the efficacy of our practice?

Another issue I want to address is how we can, from our meditative experiences, draw conclusions that align with previously existing theories. On one occasion, I was exploring the process of dis-identifying from inner experiences that I automatically perceived as “Me” and observing the effects of such dis-identification. One significant outcome was a noticeable reduction or even disappearance of pains that had been troubling me during this retreat. There was a temporal correlation between dis-identifying from inner experiences and the alleviation of pain.

From the previous experience, my mind quickly constructed an explanation that aligned with my views on Self, craving, identification:

• De-identifying from inner experiences allowed for a state with less fabrication of a sense of Self.
• The sense of Self correlates with craving (pulling/pushing at experiences).
• The unpleasant feeling of pain is fabricated through craving. Without aversion towards the physical experiences behind pain, there would be no unpleasantness.

A teacher pointed out to me (or I understood this) that the experience of “Self” not only correlates with the pulling/pushing of experiences, but it is the same thing. The sense of Self is an identification with and a pull/push regarding particular experiences.

During this retreat and subsequent meditations, I was truly delighted to be “discovering” key elements of how experience and Self unfold. There was a great deal of joy in viewing meditation as a beautiful investigative process that unveiled the complexities of experience and perception. However, another teacher challenged the “theory” I had constructed based on input from the other teacher. This made me doubt myself, question teachers, theories, and my inquiry process. As a result, I came to realize the following:

• From a single experience, I had assumed a correlation between two phenomena (selfing and craving). A serious inquiry should examine these aspects over time, verifying their reproducibility. Drawing conclusions from a single experience is very risky.
• I was buying into a theory (Self is the same as the pull/push of experience) for which I did not have enough data. I had a data point that could fit into this theory, and I was using it to quickly accept the whole of it. This made me feel reassured in two ways: “Yay! My experience is proving the theory, so I’m not blindly following this teacher!” and “Look how smart I am; I’m having insight on what teachers are talking about.”
• Once we buy into a theory, it is easy to see only evidence that corroborates it and discard evidence that challenges it. This cognitive bias reinforces our belief in the theory, and we truly feel like we are seeing evidence for it everywhere. We enter a spiral of confirmation biases and start assuming that the world obviously works in a certain way.

All this is to say that we can very easily fool ourselves into fabricating theories or into falsely “proving” existing ones. There are powerful psychological and social mechanisms that impel us to do this. While this might be unavoidable to some extent, I think it is useful to at least acknowledge that this might be happening.

Many Buddhists rejoice in the fact that Buddha rejected dogma and encouraged free inquiry. However, we can foolishly assume that, because of this, our practice automatically involves a “scientific investigation of reality.” Without questioning this assumption, we leave our inquiry vulnerable to biases and influences that can very easily lead us astray.