Titian: Sacrifice of Isaac

First, a few words on Titian’s painting. His Isaac is a child and inexorably evokes our compassion and horror at what is going to be, in the absence of an intervention, a savage death in the hands of his own father.

Our eyes are either riveted at first by the intervening angel and then travel inexorably down to the poor boy who could be looking at us, or they are riveted at first by the kneeling boy in all his innocence and vulnerability and then travel upward along the line of the brutal restraining action of  Abraham’s muscular arm to his upraised sword and to the intervention of the angel.

In contrast to the paintings by Caravaggio and Rembrandt on the same subject, Titian’s Isaac does not seem to know what’s going on. Unlike Rembrandt’s Isaac, he has not been bound. We cannot see the face of Isaac in Rembrandt’s painting, but we can see it in Titian’s painting and this has a powerful impact on us. The impact of Rembrandt’s painting, however, is a function of its powerful depiction of the intervening angel and Abraham’s surprise and awe at this supernatural intervention at a critical moment.

In Caravaggio’s painting, Abraham brutally holds down Isaac by his neck, and we can see the agony in Isaac’s face.  We can also see the torment in Abraham’s face as he turns back to look at the intervening angel who has stayed his arm. Caravaggio’s work boils over with the tension of impending violence and the inner conflict in Abraham.

The face of Titian’s Isaac is not contorted with pain.  He is not struggling and seems to have no clue about the upraised sword about to come crashing down to end the life in his little body. The innocence and helplessness of Titian’s Isaac, whose condition truly resembles that of an unknowing little lamb about to be slaughtered, powerfully evokes our compassion for that child and horror and outrage at Abraham’s intended action.

I should point out here that in the Genesis (22:1-8) account of this attempted human sacrifice episode, Abraham never reveals his real intention to Isaac.

Bearing the burden of the wood on which he would be sacrificed and walking up the mountain, poor Isaac asks his father “Look, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”. Abraham adroitly avoids telling his son the horrible truth and says cryptically “My son, God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering.” Abraham’s deception here only accentuates his cruelty toward his son.

(Imagine how the Chinese moralist Confucius, with his overriding value of filial piety, would have responded to this story of a father planning to kill his own son!)

Second, a quick resolution of the issue of why Abraham’s action is an example of religious madness or irrationality.

Recall that I clarified the concept of irrationality in the previous post in terms of the violation of two common sense principles of rationality: a) a belief must be held if there is evidence for it, and b) a belief must be discarded if it is contradicted by evidence.

Abraham’s behavior is irrational because it is based on an irrational belief that God was speaking to him and commanding him to sacrifice his son. It is an irrational belief because he had no evidence to believe that it was God’s voice.

Indeed, the notion that there could be evidence which would show that it was actually God’s voice is untenable. Even if some miracles accompanied a voice, this would only show that there was a supernatural presence and not necessarily God’s presence. Therefore, there is no way Abraham could have known that God was speaking to him. He merely heard a voice and thought that it was God speaking to him.

And how could the writer of Genesis 22:1-8, who was certainly not Abraham himself, have possibly known that it was God speaking to Abraham given that even Abraham himself could not possibly have known it?

Abraham only believed that it was God speaking to him. And the writer of Genesis 22:1-8, in turn, mistakenly believed that Abraham knew that God was speaking to him. That’s all there is to it.

Since there is no evidence for Abraham’s belief that it was God who spoke to him and commanded him to sacrifice his son, his belief and his consequent behavior are deeply irrational. And since his irrational belief and behavior are a function of his religiousness, this is assuredly a case of religious madness or irrationality.

Third, a final demolition of Wittgenstein’s claim on religious madness: irreligiousness is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition of religious madness or irrationality. This is because irreligiousness  is consistent with the absence of religious madness or irrationality. We can adduce many examples in which there is irreligiousness, but no religious madness or irrationality.

Further, religious madness or irrationality is consistent with the absence of irreligiousness. We can adduce many examples in which there is religious madness or irrationality, but no irreligiousness. Therefore, religious madness or irrationality cannot possibly “spring from” irreligiousness.

Last, and moving on to the central claim of this post, I have shown in the previous post on religious madness that religiousness is a necessary condition of religious madness.

If irreligious tendencies, or lapses into irreligiousness, lead a religious person to descend into religious madness or irrationality, then this can happen only because his or her religiousness exacerbates the psychological and moral conflict over those irreligious tendencies.

There is no question of a non-religious person descending into religious madness or irrationality if there is no conversion at first to religiousness. Thus, religious madness or irrationality is dependent on religiousness.

I now want to show that religiousness is also a sufficient condition for religious madness or irrationality!

What am I saying?

I am saying that to go mad or irrational on religion, all you need is religiousness! If you are seriously religious, then you have already descended into religious irrationality. And the more religious you get, the greater the risk of religious madness as a clinical condition.

Does this shock you? It should!

Nevertheless, it is true.

The reason for my claim is simple: all religiousness is irrational!

Does this shock you? It should!

Nevertheless, it is true.

The essence of all religion is supernaturalism. Take that away and all these religions will collapse like houses of cards.

By “supernaturalism”, I mean the belief in processes, events, entities, and beings beyond the pale of nature as we know it through our senses and intellect. It also involves the belief that these supernatural processes or entities act on and control nature and its phenomena, processes, and entities.

What makes these processes, events, and entities postulated by supernaturalism “beyond the pale of nature” is that they are not normally perceived through our senses in the way we perceive trees, rocks, animals, humans, etc. They are also not subject to the laws of nature.

It may seem as though Buddhism and Confucianism are exceptions to my claim that the essence of all religion is supernaturalism, but I don’t think so.

“Enlightenment”  in Buddhism is not an event subject to the chain of causality in nature. Therefore, it is essentially a supernatural event. Buddhism is also replete with beliefs concerning supernatural worlds or “lokas” and various sorts of supernatural entities such as “Asura” or demon, “Deva” or god, “Preta” or “hungry ghost” and so on.

Confucius believed in “the Mandate of Heaven”, a supernatural order governing the vagaries or vicissitudes of terrestrial life. Many of the rituals countenanced and advocated by Confucianism rest on supernaturalism, e.g., belief in ancestral spirits and the importance of honoring them.

Supernaturalism violates the two central principles of common sense rationality I described earlier. There is no evidence for supernaturalism and there is good evidence against it. Hence, supernaturalism, or the belief in supernatural forces, beings, etc.,  is irrational.

I will be examining  this topic in two subsequent posts. For now, I will say that the only convincing evidence for supernaturalism would be the occurrence of miracles, blatant violations of laws of nature in the absence of attenuating or extenuating conditions, in response to prayers or “petitions” seeking some sort of intervention in the natural course of events.

Since there are no such miracles, supernaturalism is false.

And, therefore, there is falsity or falsehood in the very essence of religion. To espouse false beliefs and practices based on such false beliefs in the face of available evidence clearly showing that falsity is irrational.

Hence, all religiousness is irrational.

It follows that the more religious you are, the more irrational you become. And the more this religiousness pervades your life, the more the scope or range of irrationality in your life. With this increase in the scope or range of irrationality in your life, the closer you get to insanity or lunacy.

Of course, you can live with a seriously divided rationality: common sense for money matters and religiousness on the weekend confined to the synagogue, church, mosque, temple, or “sangha”. But this division also carries its own risks of increasing the fissures in the mind.

Further, the imperatives of religiousness are imperialist in their nature. They inexorably tend to subsume more and more of one’s inner and outer life. Hence, it is but a matter of time before their scope or range extends to the whole of one’s life with the predictable consequence of increasing irrationality and the risk of impending insanity or lunacy.

Rembrandt: The Sacrifice of Isaac

Let us take another look at Wittgenstein’s arresting remark, in Culture and Value, that religion as madness, or religious madness (of which Abraham’s preparation to sacrifice his son Isaac is a paradigm example) springs from irreligiousness.

The obvious questions one must ask Wittgenstein are:  What do you mean by “religion as madness”? And what do you mean by “irreligiousness”?

“Religion as madness” can only mean “religious madness” or “religiousness gone mad”. And what do these expressions mean? That depends on what we mean by “madness” in the first place.

The word “mad” is ambiguous. It can mean a clinical condition of insanity or lunacy, or intense anger, or an intense desire for something, or pronounced or marked irrationality. “He is mad at her selfishness.”,  “She is mad about teas from Mariage Frères.”, and “Did you really go 100 mph on that freeway? That was madness!” express these different senses of “mad”.

Only the first and last senses of “mad” -  “mad” in the sense of a clinical condition of lunacy and “mad” in the sense of pronounced or marked irrationality -  are relevant in the context of Wittgenstein’s remark.

Religious madness can be or can become a clinical condition of insanity or lunacy, but usually it takes the form of pronounced or marked irrationality in belief, emotion, and behavior  in the guise or form of religiousness. Thus, I construe  “religious madness” as referring to a pronounced or marked condition of irrationality in belief, emotion, and behavior  in the forms of religiousness.

And what makes a belief, emotion, or behavior irrational?

I maintain that irrationality is in its essence a violation or abrogation of principles of common sense. There are two central principles of common sense which are at the core of rationality: a) A belief must be held only if there is evidence for it, and b) A belief must be rejected if there is evidence against it.

Irrationality, therefore, consists in the violation of these two basic principles of (common sense) rationality. An irrational belief is  a belief for which there is no evidence and/or against which there is evidence.  An irrational emotion is an emotion based on an irrational belief. And an irrational behavior is behavior based on an irrational belief directly, or indirectly by being driven by an irrational emotion.

Insanity or lunacy is characterized by a persistent state of  pronounced irrationality in belief, emotion, and behavior, but it is important to consider the fact that there are temporary or recurrent states or bouts of irrationality in belief, emotion, and behavior.

Irrationality is also a matter of extent or range. One’s irrationality can be confined to a specific domain or area of belief, emotion, and behavior, or it can extend to and encompass several domains of belief, emotion, and behavior.

The latter condition verges on clinical  lunacy or insanity, but it is a fact of human nature that one can be eminently rational in one area  or domain and succumb to irrationality in another domain.

Isaac Newton’s rationality in the realm of physics was unparalleled, but he was irrational in his approach to alchemy and the Bible and wasted his precious genius, time, and energy in pursuing his alchemical and Biblical “studies”. If this was true of Newton, one can only speculate on the condition of lesser mortals!

Think of all those Indian scientists who, at the end of a day’s rigorous scientific work in their prestigious institutions, took off their white coats and headed toward the ashram of the late “Satya” Sai Baba and fell for his standard repertoire of a magician’s tricks!

Think of some of the scientists in the West who suspended elementary standards of testing and  fell for Uri Geller’s stunts with bending metal through “mind power” alone!

What a curious division in a single mind between its application of  rigorous rationality in one domain and its abrogation of it in another domain!

Humans are prone to irrationality not only in the usual sense of doing something contrary to their knowledge, but also, and more dangerously, in the sense of believing something contrary to their knowledge.

What’s all this got to do with Wittgenstein’s remark?

It has a bearing on it in that it helps to dispel two errors pertaining to talk of “religion as madness” or religious madness: a) the error of thinking that “religion as madness” or “religious madness” invariably or essentially refers to the clinical condition of insanity or lunacy, and b) the error of thinking that “religion as madness”, or religious irrationality, implies irrationality in all other non-religious domains of one’s life, that to ascribe religious irrationality to someone implies that the person cannot hold any rational beliefs at all.

In talking of “religion as madness”, or religious madness, or religious irrationality, we are not talking, except in unusual cases, of madness or irrationality in the clinical terms of insanity or lunacy. We are simply talking of pronounced or marked irrationality of belief, emotion, and behavior manifested in the forms of religiousness.

Further,  in talking of “religion as madness” in the sense of pronounced or marked irrationality of belief, emotion, and behavior manifested in terms of religiousness, we are not suggesting that this form of  irrationality must necessarily permeate the whole of one’s life.

The commonplace  fact of division in the human mind and psyche between rigorous rationality in one domain or area and even egregious irrationality in another area blocks that suggestion. The same person can harbor or hold highly rational beliefs on some matters and highly irrational beliefs on other  matters. So, the fact that a person has succumbed to religious irrationality does not imply that they cannot harbor any rational beliefs at all about other matters.

It also works in the other direction. From the fact that a person holds rational beliefs in one domain, it certainly does not follow that he or she must be free from religious irrationality or irrational religious beliefs.

Given the universal propensity for “divided rationality”, the fact that a person holds rational beliefs in one domain does not even make it probable that he or she is free from religious irrationality.

Hence, any inference from the fact that a person is rational in some domain to the conclusion that  he or she is likely to be rational in another domain is illogical.

This throws out of the window an argument made on behalf of some claimants to religious experience: that we should consider their “verbal testimony” on their experiences, their claims on their religious experiences, to be reliable because those claimants are rational in some other, non-religious, domain. This argument is afflicted by non sequitur.

Religious irrationality can vary in its range or extent depending on the length of the leash of common sense with which an individual restrains his or her religiousness. The longer the length of that leash, the less constrained  one’s religiousness and, naturally, the greater the extent of religious irrationality. The greater the extent or reach of  religious irrationality, the greater the risk of “religion as madness” in the clinical terms of lunacy or insanity.

In other words, religious irrationality waxes or wanes in strength and begins to permeate one’s life in inverse proportion to the dominance of common sense. The more one regulates one’s life by common sense, the less the extent of one’s religious irrationality and the strength of its influence.

The second question pertaining to Wittgenstein’s remark was: What could he have meant by “irreligiousness”?

There is overwhelming evidence, on the basis of his published remarks and reported conversations with him by his close friends and students, that Wittgenstein held a view of religion which accorded central place in a religious life to an acute consciousness of the defects of one’s character (“People are religious to the extent that they believe themselves to be not so much imperfect, as ill. Any man who is half-way decent will think himself  extremely imperfect, but a religious man thinks himself wretched.” in Culture and Value), unwavering commitment to one’s religion, and ethical practice stemming from that commitment.

Therefore, he could have only meant by “irreligiousness” a lack of awareness of, or serious reflection on, the defects of one’s character, a lack of commitment to one’s religion,  and a lack of ethical practice stemming from that commitment.

Now, given my clarifications of “religion as madness” and “irreligiousness” in Wittgenstein’s remark, how could “religion as madness” or religious irrationality, i.e., irrationality in belief, emotion, and behavior  in the forms of religiousness, possibly spring from “irreligiousness” in Wittgenstein’s own sense of this term?

It is obvious that one would have to be religious in the first place to succumb to “religion as madness” or religious irrationality.  How then can there even be a possibility of “religion as madness” springing from “irreligiousness”?

One could attempt to render Wittgenstein’s remark coherent by saying something like this on its behalf: a person who is afflicted by “irreligiousness”, let’s say in the form of allowing some vices to go unchecked,  turns to religion to assuage a guilty conscience or alleviate her moral conflict. But she fails to resolve this moral conflict and turns increasingly to religion. Eventually, the lack of resolution of the moral conflict over her vices results in  “religion as madness”, or religious irrationality.

Does this make Wittgenstein’s remark coherent?

I don’t think so for the obvious reason that this person would already be “religious” in Wittgenstein’s sense of that word if she were to experience any significant moral conflict over her vices. To be in a state of moral conflict over one’s vices already involves an element of what Wittgenstein would consider to be essential to religiousness, i.e., an acute consciousness of the defects of one’s character, or one’s “illness” and “wretchedness”, to use Wittgenstein’s “Kierkegaardian” Christian vocabulary.

Note also that her turn toward religiousness is what exacerbates her moral conflict, her sense of  her own “sin”, “illness”, and “wretchedness”. Without her turn toward religiousness, the vices would not be interpreted by her as evidence of her “illness” and “wretchedness”.

Hence, if this person were to succumb to “religion as madness” or religious irrationality, it would actually be an instance of “religion as madness” springing from religiousness!

Alternatively, one could  attempt to render Wittgenstein’s remark coherent by saying that a religious person can suffer acutely from any lapses  into “irreligiousness” and that this can eventually lead him or her into the condition of “religion as madness” or religious irrationality. Thus, irreligiousness can lead to “religion as madness” or religious irrationality.

But, clearly, this is really a case of “religion as madness” springing from religiousness rather than irreligiousness. It is her preexisting religiousness which exacerbates her conflict and suffering at any lapse into irreligiousness. The notion that one has “lapsed into irreligiousness” can only arise in a religious person.  She would not even be conscious of her “lapses into irreligiousness” if she wasn’t very religious in the first place.  And to suffer acutely from one’s perception that one has lapsed into “irreligiousness” implies a very high degree of religiousness.

Since these attempts fail to render coherent Wittgenstein’s remark that “Religion as madness is a madness springing from irreligiousness.“, I conclude, again, that it is a piece of baloney and that we should adhere to the plain truth that the roots of religion as madness or religious irrationality lie squarely and deeply in the bog of religiousness itself.

Caravaggio: The Sacrifice of Isaac

As I have argued in the previous post “The Familiar Faces of  Faith”, contrary to Wittgenstein who remarked that “Religion as madness is a madness springing from irreligiousness.” (“Religion als Wahnsinn ist Wahnsinn aus Irreligiosität ” in Culture and Value), the truth is that religion as madness, or religious madness, is a madness which springs from religiousness itself, the inherently conflicted, tormented, and inwardly and outwardly violent striving to be truly religious.

I will repeat here my main criticism of Wittgenstein’s remark: “In fact, not only is Wittgenstein’s suggestion that irreligiousness is the cause of religious madness implausible, it is also a piece of baloney because it contradicts an obvious truth! It is obvious that if we have a case of religion as madness, or religious madness, or religiousness gone mad, it must have something essentially to do with religiousness. Otherwise, it would simply be madness and not particularly a case of religious madness. So, in its very nature, religion as madness, or religious madness,  must have its roots in religiousness.”

I am very far from suggesting or implying that it was Caravaggio’s intention to do so (But it is correct to say that he wanted to communicate a truth about the violence of Abraham’s action. Representations of acts of violence are an integral part of his art,  and, perhaps, have something to do with his temperamental propensity for violence.), but nothing shows this truth better than his masterpiece The Sacrifice of Isaac.

The self-inflicted torment, springing squarely from his religious madness, in the visage of a father determined to savagely sacrifice his beloved son should give us more than a pause for reflection on religious madness.

And I am not really impressed with the intervening Angel.  He is no paragon of compassion since he points to the equally innocent ram as the alternative sacrificial victim!

Goya: Pilgrimage To San Isidro

I can think of no other picture than this, one of the 14 “black paintings” Goya created in his mid-seventies, the “Pilgrimage to San Isidro” depicting a procession of the faithful pilgrims to the hermitage of St. Isidore in Madrid, Spain, which shows the true face of religious faith.

“The face is the index of the soul.” Indeed!

In a remarkable set of remarks from the notebooks of the twentieth century Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, collected together and posthumously published with the title “Culture and Value“, we find an entry in 1931:  “Religion as madness is a madness springing from irreligiousness.” (“Religion als Wahnsinn ist Wahnsinn aus Irreligiosität”)

This remark suggests that religious madness, or madness manifested in religious forms, is a madness which springs really from an absence of religiousness, from the lack of a truly religious spirit,  and probably from a life marred by vices cloaked in the mantle of religiousness.

But there is an obvious problem in Wittgenstein’s remark. If the cause is “irreligiousness” or lack of religiousness, how can the effect take the specific form of religious madness? How can “irreligiousness” lead to religious madness? Rather, it would make sense to think that religious madness must be traced back to its religious roots, to religiousness itself.

In fact, not only is Wittgenstein’s suggestion that irreligiousness is the cause of religious madness implausible, it is also a piece of baloney because it contradicts an obvious truth!

It is obvious that if we have a case of religion as madness, or religious madness, or religiousness gone mad, it must have something essentially to do with religiousness. Otherwise, it would simply be madness and not particularly a case of religious madness. So, in its very nature, religion as madness, or religious madness,  must have its roots in religiousness.

If one’s religiousness is merely a matter of paying lip service to religious dogmas, or armchair philosophizing about its imagined merits, then there is really no threat to one’s sanity. But there is an upheaval the moment one takes religiousness seriously and strives earnestly to be religious.

Just think of the travails of taking seriously the command of Jesus of Nazareth to abandon everything and follow his course or path! Ponder the praxis of becoming “like unto children” to qualify for entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven! Reflect on the ramifications of striving to overcome all desires in order to attain Nirvana! Contemplate the consequences of cultivating total detachment to attain the goal of liberation in Hindu yoga! Do this and you will understand why I hold that religious madness springs actually  from the striving to be truly religious.

Religion as madness is invariably a madness springing from an excess of religiousness,  from an excess of “enthusiasm”, as the Scottish philosopher David Hume would have called it, which the struggle for authentic religiousness always breeds in one form or another,  from the self-inflicted tortures of trying to live in accordance with the irrational imperatives or ideals of  one’s “faith”, and from the atrophy of reason and discernment such obedience to the dictates of  one’s “faith” invariably engenders in human beings.

You only need to look at the faces of the pilgrims to San Isidro in Goya’s dark masterpiece to know this truth!

Goya: Aquellos Polvos

Do you see what happens when the real dunces, the ones doing the “judging” in this print from Goya’s Los Caprichos series, rule the day?

“El sueño de la razón produce monstruos”

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters!

And, I would add, they often wear “baloney masks”!

I disagree. Among the many stupid views  in the history of philosophy, skepticism strikes me as particularly deserving  an exposé.

Skepticism in philosophy has taken two absurd forms: (A) We cannot know anything at all,  and (B) We cannot know anything about an “external world”. (B) follows if we accept  (A), but one can reject (A) and still subscribe to (B).

The absurdity of (A) is evident from the obvious fact that the skeptic uses a language to think or articulate the thesis. This clearly has the fatal implication that the skeptic knows the language he uses to think and articulate the thesis that we cannot know anything!

Consider also the skeptic’s ludicrous attempt to argue for (A). If we cannot know anything, how can we possibly know that there are  reasons for (A), not to mention knowing that there are good reasons for (A)? If we cannot know anything, how can we possibly know that a given statement is a reason, not to mention knowing that it is a good reason,  for  skepticism?

So, in attempting to argue for (A), the skeptic shows that he knows that a statement can be justifiably proffered as a reason for (A). This means that the skeptic knows how to identify relations of logical support between a statement and his thesis that we cannot know anything. And this makes any argument the skeptic can offer for (A) inconsistent, and, hence, incoherent.

Let us now turn to the other  kind of skeptical absurdity, (B), the view that we cannot know anything about an “external world”.

The term “external world” is a curious philosophical abstraction. There is no such thing. The world we know is not the  dessicated, sterile, meaningless, and vacuous “external world” of obtuse philosophical parlance. It is a world teeming with life, with a plurality of objects, living beings, and conscious persons, in all the bewildering diversity of their properties or qualities.

So, what is it, this “external world” that the skeptic denies we can have any knowledge of? If it is just a vacuous philosophical abstraction, it would follow trivially that we cannot know anything about it other than the fact that it is a vacuous philosophical abstraction! But this would still refute the skeptic’s claim that we cannot know anything about it.

The onus is on the skeptic to clarify the meaning of the claim “We cannot know anything about the external world.” Is the “external world” a peculiar philosophical shorthand form of referring to particular trees, dogs, birds, mountains, rivers, etc? Is the skeptic, then, talking about the world of trees, dogs, rocks, pennies, etc? If so, his claim would tantamount to a denial that we can know anything about dogs, rocks, pennies, etc. In fact, this skeptical thesis implies that we cannot know anything about any object, attribute, event, or process in the world, including rocks, birds, dogs, cats, people, colors, rain, death, etc.

However, knowledge that an object exists, or that a process or event occurs, is an important and basic form of knowledge. The skeptical thesis that we cannot know anything about any object, attribute, event, or process in the world must imply that we cannot know that any object or entity exists, that any object or entity has any attribute or quality,  and that any event or process occurs in the world.

This implies that the skeptic must also claim that she does not know and cannot know that she has a body, or that her body exists, and/ or that she is able to articulate the skeptical thesis only by moving her lips, tongue, etc.

What could one possibly say to a person who talks about skepticism by moving her lips, tongue, etc., and yet denies that she knows this to be the case, or worse, that anyone can possibly know this to be the case?

What could one possibly say to a person who is obviously producing, in speech and/or writing,  the words which make up the thesis of skepticism by virtue of having a body, a brain, eyes, mouth, vocal chords, hands, fingers, etc., and yet denies that she knows this to be the case, or worse, that anyone can know this to be the case?

What else can one do but imitate the acute philosopher G.E. Moore’s characteristic response to bizarre metaphysical denials of the reality of the world, time, plurality of objects, etc?  That is, we can only look at this skeptic with “an expression of face as if to hear such a thing reduced (us) to a state of… imbecility” and we would be perfectly justified in doing so.

In fact, we can and ought to go beyond the scrupulous and urbane Moore to call into question the sanity and/or the sincerity of the skeptic.”You are either insane or insincere.” is a perfectly justified response to the skeptic.

For a grown person or adult to pretend not to know things which are evident even to children is either an act of comedy, duplicity, or mental disorder. The standard we use in everyday life leads us to justifiably consider a person who waves to us and says “I have no hands.”, or says to us in English “I have no language.”, or talks about her thoughts, experiences, preferences, decisions, etc., and says “I have no self.”, or scratches her leg and says “I have no legs.”, or worse, “I have no body.”, as one who is either joking or suffering from a serious mental disorder. Philosophical garb(age) provides no exception to this standard. “But I am a philosopher.” or “I am doing philosophy.” provides no immunity to the application of this obviously rational or sensible standard.

But if the skeptic acknowledges, on pain of the charge of insincerity and/or cognitive disorder, that she has a body and is able to talk and/or write about skepticism by virtue of having a body, then this is sufficient to show the reality of an external world. The existence of one object, a body, is sufficient for the reality of the external world because it entails a set of necessary conditions for the existence of a body, conditions which constitute the reality of  the “external world”.

I will conclude this post with a  reductio ad absurdum against taking skepticism seriously.

If skepticism is worth taking seriously, then it would be sensible to take seriously the claim  that we cannot know whether the music Bach and Mozart composed really exists, or worse, that it would be sensible to take seriously the claim that Bach and Mozart could not possibly have known  how to compose music! (If we cannot know the “external world”, then we also cannot know musical notes and their relations!)

And this absurd consequence of skepticism is sufficient to justify consigning it to the garbage dump of stupid philosophical views.

Aurobindo made a number of extraordinary and supernatural claims in his writings, letters, and conversations with his largely credulous disciples. You will find claims on “occult worlds”, “hostile forces”, alleged Blackmagic and his efforts to counteract it, alleged poltergeist phenomena in his ashram, healing or cure of even chronic diseases by “yogic force”,  the possibility of conquering death by harnessing the “supramental force”, his avowed role in using his “yogic force” to turn the tide of World War II in favor of the Allied forces, and so on. In this series of pieces, I intend to examine and uncover the baloney in these claims.

Let’s start with his claim that during his stay in the Alipore jail (May 1908- 1909) he heard the voice of Vivekananda (1863 – 1902) giving him information on “higher planes of consciousness”, particularly the so-called “intuitive mentality”.  Since Vivekananda died in 1902, this alleged event happened six years or so after Vivekananda’s death. Obviously, Aurobindo is claiming that Vivekananda visited him in the Alipore jail in the form of a “spirit” or disembodied presence and spoke to him.

“It is a fact that I was hearing constantly the voice of Vivekananda speaking to me for a fortnight in the jail in my solitary meditation and felt his presence [.] The voice spoke only on a special and limited but very important field of spiritual experience and it ceased as soon as it had finished saying all that it had to say on that subject.” (Aurobindo, On Himself)

How did he recognize the voice of Vivekananda? Although Aurobindo was thirty years old when Vivekananda died suddenly at age thirty-nine  in 1902, he had never met Vivekananda. Nor had he heard any recording of Vivekananda’s voice at that time. In fact, contrary to rumors, no such recording of Vivekananda’s voice has been found. So, Aurobindo could not possibly have heard any recording of Vivekananda’s voice.  Indeed, Aurobindo never stated that he heard any such recording ever in his life. Therefore, there is no doubt that Aurobindo never had any knowledge of Vivekananda’s voice prior to his incarceration in the Alipore jail.

One can only recognize something if one has had knowledge of it in the past. I cannot recognize a face as the face of my mother if I have never seen my mother’s face. I cannot recognize the voice of a person I have never heard.

So, how did Aurobindo know that it was Vivekananda’s voice, particularly since the experience did not involve any vision of Vivekananda?

There are only two possibilities: a)  he imagined that he had heard Vivekananda’s voice, or b) the voice introduced itself as Vivekananda, e.g., “Namaste, Aurobindo, this is Vivekananda speaking to you.”!

If he had imagined that he had heard the voice of Vivekananda, this obviously implies, at least, that he could not be sure or certain that it was the voice of Vivekananda. But this also implies something more. He had a delusive experience! Hence, his claim that it was the voice of Vivekananda has no basis in reality.

On the other hand, if the voice introduced itself as Vivekananda, and Aurobindo trusted it, how can he or anyone be sure or certain that it was trustworthy, that it was really Vivekananda’s voice? The fact that Aurobindo trusted or believed the voice does not imply or support the claim that it was indeed Vivekananda’s voice. He could have been deceived by any of the very “hostile forces”, i.e., the demons or  “evil spirits” of religious lore,  he claims really exist and afflict human beings.

In fact, Aurobindo’s account of the experience does not mention anything about whether the voice identified itself. Thus, all we have is Aurobindo’s mere belief, but conflated by him with certain knowledge,  that it was the voice of Vivekananda speaking to him.

Further, in which language did the voice communicate? The native language of Aurobindo and Vivekananda was Bengali and both were also extremely fluent in English. So, did “Vivekananda’s voice” use Bengali or English as its medium of communication?

Aurobindo remained mysteriously silent on this issue. He never disclosed the language employed by the “voice of Vivekananda”. But how likely is it that a person who claims to hear a voice giving him “information” on “higher planes of consciousness” can forget the language in which such information was communicated? It’s virtually impossible.

What exactly did the voice communicate?

Aurobindo is vague on this issue. He is reported to have said years later that the voice gave him critical information on the “higher plane” of  “intuitive mentality” but he never explained the nature of this information.  In later years, in one of his letters to a disciple, he wrote, again vaguely,  that the voice gave him information on a “very important field of spiritual experience” , but he did not provide any  explanation of  which “field of spiritual experience”  this was and the nature of the information on it.

Aurobindo had probably read by this time, or even prior to his incarceration in the Alipore jail, Vivekananda’s remarks on “intuition” in his well-known work on “Raja Yoga”. If so,  what rules out the explanation that he was hallucinating and projecting his existing knowledge of Vivekananda’s ideas on intuition, gleaned from his writings, onto the voice? 

What a pity that Vivekananda did not choose this one-time opportunity (he never again communicated with Aurobindo!) to communicate information as to his (Vivekananda’s) whereabouts in the beyond, or how, contrary to Shakespeare’s description of the beyond as “that undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns“, he had managed to return ? And why did he fail to explain the means by which a “spirit” can still “speak” intelligibly using an earthly language? This would have been a precious contribution to knowledge!

One can also think of any number of critical issues facing India or Aurobindo on that day and on which Vivekananda could have given valuable “information”, accessible from the vantage point of an elite denizen of the beyond, to Aurobindo. How odd that he didn’t!

Isn’t it also very strange that he never again communicated with Aurobindo even after the latter allegedly scaled the “higher planes consciousness” including the “plane of intuitive mentality” and explored many important “fields of spiritual experience”?

One would have expected that Vivekananda would have done a “follow-up” voice communication from the beyond in later years at least to congratulate Aurobindo on his accomplishments in the “very important field of spiritual experience” he had divagated about in the Alipore jail. But Aurobindo’s accounts of his spiritual experiences in later years never once mention any further communication from Vivekananda.

So, I ask: Which is the plausible explanation of Aurobindo’s experience of “hearing the voice of Vivekananda”  in the Alipore jail? (A) That he had a delusive auditory experience, akin to hypnagogic and hypnopompic auditory hallucinations everyone has, which also involved a projection of his existing knowledge of the writings of Vivekananda on intuition, yoga, etc., or (B) that Vivekananda who had died six or more years ago really spoke to Aurobindo, once and only once in the latter’s entire lifetime allegedly encompassing several levels of “spiritual attainment”, in an unspecified language, and gave vague “information” on an equally obscure “intuitive mentality” and “field of spiritual experience”?

The baloney compass clearly points to (A) as the best explanation.

Reflection on the four noble truths raises an important question: What’s reality got to do with all this? What must the fundamental aspects of reality be like if both suffering and liberation from suffering can occur within its folds?

Since suffering is caused by desire, and, we must add, this usually requires the thwarting of desire,  reality must be such that there is no “pre-established harmony” between our desires and reality. The thwarting of our desires implies that reality can be, and often is, incompatible with our desires.  And this, in its turn, implies that reality must be independent of our desires.

Thought, memory, feeling, and volition are constitutive elements of desire. To have a desire for an ice cream is to think about it, have feelings of pleasure anticipating having an ice cream, or remembering the enjoyment of an ice cream in the past, to have a volition or will in the direction of fulfillment of the desire, etc.

So, if reality is independent of desire, it must also be independent of the constitutive elements of desire such as thought, memory, feeling, and volition. Let’s put this point in simple terms: reality must be independent of our minds!

Thus, the first and second noble truths imply and echo commonsense realism, i.e., that reality is independent of our minds, or our desires, thoughts, and feelings. So, any form of subjectivism, or “subjective  idealism”, which makes reality dependent on our minds, or our desires, thoughts, and feelings is inconsistent with the first and second noble truths! And in terms of the criterion of compatibility with the four noble truths, we must hold that subjective idealism is not a truly Buddhist teaching!

The second,third, and the fourth noble truths suggest that reality must have an underlying causal and dependence-relations structure which can be understood by human reason and that this understanding can be applied to bring about freedom from suffering. If suffering can be understood and overcome, then the reality within whose folds this occurs must be intelligible or comprehensible to human reason.

This import of the four noble truths resonates well with Einstein’s avowed astonishment that even the complex structures of reality are intelligible to or comprehensible by human reason.

So, as I have pointed out in other posts, skepticism and any denigration of the ability of human reason to comprehend reality are inconsistent with the four noble truths.

Thus, the four noble truths and science converge in on this most important feature of reality and the relation of human reason to it.

In light of these arguments, I have expanded the list of claims a truly Buddhist teaching cannot contain or countenance:

1.    Things have no inherent or essential nature.

2.    Causality or causal relations have no reality.

3.    We cannot know anything.

4.    The subject or self does not exist.

5.    Common sense is never reliable.

6.    There are no real distinctions, i.e., “non-dualism”.

7.  Rationality has no value and cannot facilitate enlightenment.

8.  There are supernatural beings.

9.  Suffering is caused by supernatural beings.

10. We can overcome suffering only with the aid of supernatural beings.

11. We have an innate, enlightened, “Buddha Nature” not subject to ignorance, desire, and suffering.

12. Reality cannot be known by human reason.

13. Reality is dependent on our minds, or our desires, thoughts, and feelings.

What are these core claims of Buddhism?

The early Buddhist texts are unanimous that the Buddha’s first discourse after his enlightenment was on the four noble truths. There is virtually no significant disagreement on the basic content of the four noble truths. The first noble truth is a complex claim, but its central assertion is that suffering is a real and universal feature of the human condition. The second noble truth affirms that suffering has a cause and that this cause is craving or desire. The third noble truth affirms that suffering can be ended. And the fourth noble truth describes the way to end suffering, the eightfold path.

My thesis is that any claim, or doctrine, or theory, or precept  inconsistent with these four noble truths, their presuppositions or assumptions, and their implications or logical consequences is not properly or genuinely a Buddhist claim, or doctrine, or theory. Obviously, this also means that a genuine Buddhist outlook, doctrine, or view, or theory, must accept the four noble truths, their assumptions or presuppositions, and their implications or logical consequences.

If this is accepted, then it follows that any “teaching” which holds that there is no essential or inherent nature to anything cannot be a “Buddhist teaching” since it is inconsistent with the central assumption of the Four Noble Truths that suffering has an inherent or essential nature, i.e., of being the inevitable consequence of desire.

It also follows that skepticism, or the view that we cannot know anything, cannot be a “Buddhist teaching” since it is also inconsistent with the central assumption of the Four Noble Truths that the inherent nature of suffering can be known and that this knowledge is essential for  liberation from suffering. Thus, it is absurd to even ask whether a Buddhist can be a skeptic, given that a Buddhist must believe that there are truths, at least four of them, which can be known.

In terms of my criterion of Buddhist teaching, the denial of causality is inconsistent with the Second Noble Truth which affirms that suffering is caused by desire and the Fourth Noble Truth which claims that the Eightfold Path leads to the overcoming of suffering. Hence, a denial of causality or causal relations cannot be a legitimate element of any Buddhist teaching.

The denial of the existence of a subject or self (a mutant of the original anatta teaching, the denial of the Atman, a denial not only consistent with the four noble truths but also required by them since the Atman is not subject to ignorance, desire, and suffering ) is also inconsistent with the Four Noble Truths.

Suffering presupposes a subject or self who undergoes it; desire presupposes a subject or self who has it; the possibility of attainment of the goal of nirvana, or the overcoming of suffering, presupposes a subject or self who attains that goal; and the advocacy of the means of the Eightfold Path to attain the goal of Nirvana presupposes a subject or self who follows that means. Hence, the denial of the existence of a subject or self cannot be a legitimate element of any Buddhist teaching.

The notion advanced by some schools of “Buddhism” that we have an innate, enlightened, “Buddha Nature” or pure self undefiled by ignorance, desire, and suffering is also inconsistent with the four noble truths, particularly the first and second noble truths which acknowledge that we are subject to suffering as a consequence of our subjection to desire, and the fourth noble truth which implies that we are not already enlightened or liberated from suffering and must follow a way, the eightfold path, to become enlightened or liberated from suffering.

Common sense is the only legitimate court of appeal for the First, Second (particularly its assumption of causality), and the Third Noble Truths. The reality of suffering is a truth of common sense. The reality of causation or causal relations, including the causation of suffering, is also a truth of common sense. The notion that by eliminating a cause we can also eliminate its effect is also a truth of common sense. Hence, any denial of common sense as a legitimate court of appeal cannot be an element of a Buddhist teaching.

Since “dualistic distinctions” of cause and effect, means and end, subject or self and its conditions, states, or experiences, e.g., conditions, states, or experiences such as suffering, desire, and the overcoming of suffering, suffering and the overcoming of suffering, and desire and the freedom from desire, are a part and parcel of the Four Noble Truths, any form of “non-dualism” which denies, or implies the denial of these “dualistic distinctions”, cannot be an element of a Buddhist teaching.

Rationality – inclusive of the use of common sense and reason in ascertaining the universal features of the human condition, the analysis of causal relations, assessment of the proper means to achieving a goal or end, etc., – is also explicit in the formulation of the Four Noble Truths. Thus, any form of irrationality or anti-rationality cannot be an element or feature of a Buddhist teaching since it is inconsistent with the Four Noble Truths.

Further, if the Buddha had believed that a supernatural agency or being can attempt to produce, often successfully, desire-laden states of mind in us, and thereby bring about our suffering, he would have affirmed it in the second noble truth. But there is no reference to any supernatural agency or being in the four noble truths, not to mention supernatural beings bringing about our suffering directly or indirectly. Hence, it is highly likely that the Buddha did not believe in supernatural agencies or beings.

Thus, a truly Buddhist teaching cannot contain any of the following ten claims:

1.    Things have no inherent or essential nature.

2.    Causality or causal relations have no reality.

3.    We cannot know anything.

4.    The subject or self does not exist.

5.    Common sense is never reliable.

6.    There are no real distinctions, i.e., “non-dualism”.

7.  Rationality has no value and cannot facilitate enlightenment.

8.  There are supernatural agencies or beings.

9.  Suffering is caused by supernatural agencies or beings.

10. We have an innate, enlightened, “Buddha Nature” not subject to ignorance, desire, and suffering.

All this would result in an austere and minimalist Buddhism, but I think it is very much in accordance with the Buddha’s own austere and minimalist approach  exemplified in the four noble truths.

However, it is Buddhism without baloney, or at least, without the sort of  baloney I have targeted in the earlier post.

And it is a Buddhism, I must confess, I find very appealing.