Tag Archives: secular buddhism

Buddhism 2.0? Stephen Batchelor’s vision of Secular Buddhism

At the time I was writing ‘The Buddha’s Middle Way’ (published this year), in 2017, I was able to refer to Stephen Batchelor’s 2015 book ‘After Buddhism’ as its nearest forerunner, but I had not yet read Batchelor’s collection of essays ‘Secular Buddhism’, which was only published in 2017. Reading that further book, more recently, I don’t think it would have made a huge difference to any of the (largely positive) things I said about Batchelor’s work. However, its essay ‘A Secular Buddhism’ does seem to be the nearest thing to a manifesto Batchelor has produced, and I guess that it’s one of the most influential statements to date of what ‘secular Buddhism’ means. For that reason, if no other, I feel it’s worth engaging with and responding to.

The reason I’ve been increasingly interested in Batchelor’s work, and have also been very glad to meet him personally, is not because I identify myself with the label ‘secular Buddhist’ (though I have been through an earlier phase when I used the term). However, I continue to be interested in what lies behind it – namely a fruitful process of deep critical thinking about Buddhist tradition, parallel to the similar process that is going on in relation to many other traditions.

Batchelor’s other metaphor for what he means by ‘Secular Buddhism’, ‘Buddhism 2.0’ appeals to me a little more. Despite its IT connotations, and the danger that these connotations will be taken too literally or reductively, it does convey the key idea of changing the paradigm that creates key assumptions about Buddhist practice. To do ‘Buddhism 2.0’ you don’t have to change your “hardware” (i.e. your body and brain) nor your specific app (e.g. ethical or meditation practice), but you do need to change the “operating system” that gives a wider formatting to your practice. You need to do so because the old operating system is no longer well-adapted to a new set of conditions. That’s a metaphor that could just as easily be applied to the reform of other traditions: e.g. Christianity 2.0, Science 2.0, or Liberalism 2.0.

The switch from one operating system to another may also seem like a sudden one, because it involves a disengagement from one set of connected assumptions in order to re-engage with another. Batchelor captures this very well when he writes about a “gestalt switch” from a metaphysical interpretation of Buddhist doctrines to a pragmatic one. In the work of Robert Kegan on levels of adult psychological development, that switch can be seen as the one between level 4 (thinking based on paradigmatic rational rules) to level 5 (flexibly moving between paradigms with a practical justification).

When this switch occurs, how does the new ‘operating system’ differ from the old one? Here, the key point where I agree with Batchelor wholeheartedly is that the new operating system is pragmatic whilst the old is dogmatic. The question, however, is what exactly “pragmatic” means. The implications of pragmatism need to be simultaneously pursued both in theory and in practise if they are to provide a strong enough alternative to the dogmas people are used to relying on. The more long-term and universal one tries to make one’s pragmatism, the further one will need to look beyond one’s personal experience and one’s immediate audience, and thus the wider and more fruitful one’s pragmatism is likely to become. Batchelor’s strength is that of communicating new possible approaches to people who are interested in Buddhism in a way that can inspire them and is consistent with practical experience. However, his limitations lie more in the area of how much he critically examines the perspectives he offers, to make his pragmatism more universal.

This takes me to my concerns about the framing of ‘Buddhism 2.0’ as ‘Secular Buddhism’. In his essay ‘Secular Buddhism’, Batchelor starts off by trying to clarify exactly what he means by that term. Let’s start with ‘Secular’. Batchelor says that there are three senses of secularity he is using: (1) opposition to religion, (2) being concerned with this world, and (3) involving a transfer of authority from ‘church’ to ‘state’. If that is what ‘secular’ means, then identifying my approach with any of them would worry me, because they all seem to rely on a (thoroughly false, in my view) dichotomy between ‘secularity’ and ‘religion’. If we state that we are concerned with this world, that seems to imply that we are still avoiding concern with another one, and if we are transferring authority away from religious institutions, this also suggests that we are rejecting religious institutions as holders of power. Surely that is continuing with the old paradigm, but just flipping our priorities within that paradigm, rather than adopting a new one? To adopt a new pragmatic paradigm, surely we need to apply the same sorts of autonomous criteria to critique both ‘religious’ and ‘non-religious’ spheres, recognising that religion is a complex system embedded in human societies?

There are, indeed, other possible uses of the term ‘secularism’, that I think may get a bit closer to what I take Batchelor to mean. Charles Taylor, in his big book ‘A Secular Age’ offers another alternative sense of secularity, as a transition “from a society in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is one human possibility among others”. The phenomenon of secular thinking has given us options that were not there before: to follow the church, to think oppositely to the church, and potentially, also, to break the dichotomous paradigm on which the popular view of religion as absolute belief depends. That’s a type of secularism I would personally find it much easier to sign up to: both individually and socio-politically, I think it’s very important to maintain those options. But secularists would need to be a great deal clearer about this as the prime reason for secularism than they tend to be for me to sign on the dotted line. Batchelor’s account of it does not suggest that it’s this kind of definition that he has in mind.

The other side of Batchelor’s account of ‘Secular Buddhism’ is the ‘Buddhist’ part. Here it may be helpful to quote him at some length.

On what grounds would such a Buddhism 2.0 be able to claim that it is “Buddhism” rather than something else altogether? Clearly, it would need to be founded on canonical source texts, be able to offer a convincing interpretation of key practices, doctrines, and ethical precepts, and to provide a sufficiently rich and integrated theoretical model of the dharma to serve as the basis for a flourishing human existence. (p.80)

Firstly, here, I wonder why he is so concerned as to whether ‘Secular Buddhism’ could possibly be mistaken for “something else altogether”. It’s a worry I’ve also encountered amongst many other Buddhists when discussing these issues, to such an extent that when I asked one Buddhist scholar why he was so narrowly focused on the Buddhist tradition, he answered “because I’m a Buddhist” – as though that answered the question! It should hardly be necessary to point out to Buddhists that essentialism is not part of their brief. Surely, if the practices work, it matters not in the least whether they are thought of as ‘Buddhism’? What matters practically, in relation to the Buddhist tradition, is whether it is a source of inspiration and practical support for spiritual progress, not what we call it. Its practical function as a tradition does depend on continuity, but not on essentiality, and helpful continuity can be maintained without essential identity.

Charitably assuming, then, that what Batchelor wants here more deeply is an effective practical relationship to Buddhist tradition rather than ultimate grounds for claiming that it is not ‘something else’, we can then find three criteria for it in the quotation above, only two of which are obviously pragmatic. A convincing interpretation of all the elements of the tradition is undoubtedly needed to maintain helpful continuity with it, and “a sufficiently rich and integrated model of it” to be practically helpful is also a pragmatic criterion. Why ever, though, does it need to be “founded on canonical source texts”?
There seems to be a contradiction between this criterion and Batchelor’s approach on the very next page:

The more I am seduced by the force of my own arguments, the more I am tempted to imagine that my secular version of Buddhism is what the Buddha originally taught, which the traditional schools have either lost sight of or distorted. This would be a mistake, or it is impossible to read the historical Buddha’s mind in order to know what he “really” meant or intended. (p.81)

Why does secular Buddhism need to be “founded on canonical source texts” if these very source texts have such a highly debatable relationship to the Buddha? Even if the scholarly lines of transmission were clearer than they are, would there not also be a basic issue of responsibility here? If we have responsibility for our practice, surely we cannot take any “canonical source text” as a complete account of it? Once we take responsibility for an idea, its source becomes irrelevant.

However, responsibility needs to be exercised in interpreting Batchelor as well as in interpreting scriptures. I’m fairly sure, having met him and discussed some of these issues, that he would deny that he intended “canonical source texts” to be an absolute source of authority. Nevertheless, I think there is a major issue about what one implies when one argues about such texts. In my own book ‘The Buddha’s Middle Way’, I have tried to make it extremely clear that I am using source texts from the Pali Canon as a source of inspiration rather than as a source of ‘truth’. Even then I found that some early readers of my draft book did not understand this approach, assuming that any reference to the texts was effectively an appeal to authority, and any changed interpretation must be based on a rival historical or textual claim of some kind. Appealing to authority is such an engrained habit in every sphere of religion, that one has to make a supreme effort even to open the Overton Window to other possibilities. People will still read in what they are used to even when you try to make it very explicit. In the absence of an extremely explicit statement about how one is using texts, then, I think it is very difficult to avoid the presumption, in readers if not in the writer, that one is offering a new version of what the Buddha “really” meant. For that reason I would like Batchelor to be very much more explicit on this point.

I think Batchelor’s concern with the dating and origin of texts also leaves him open to this interpretation. Sometimes the fact that one text is earlier or later than another is an informative part of the total story it offers and its significance. For example, knowing that ‘The Tempest’ is a late play of Shakespeare’s does make a difference to our appreciation of it, as we can understand the echoes of Shakespeare himself in the character of Prospero. In a similar way, awareness that the ‘Chapter of Eights’ in the Sutta Nipata is probably a very early text may help us to interpret it contextually. However, the dating of religious texts is very often part of an authority game in which the earlier text is taken to ‘win’ as the reward for a convincing (but unavoidably fallible) scholarly argument. In such cases, it has nothing much to do with the meaning of the text. Claims about dating may become hostages to fortune, and the practical meaning of the text very quickly becomes submerged in scholarly competitiveness. I very much feel that serious pragmatism demands agnosticism about claims that are heavily associated with the authority of texts, at least as the default option.

Overall, then, I think Batchelor’s account of secular Buddhism, though it has the great virtue of engaging many people in a pragmatic critique of Buddhist tradition, leaves a great deal that is of importance still unresolved or unnecessarily open to unhelpful interpretations. One reason for this is that it tries to use the concept of ‘secularism’ for a purpose for which it is ill-equipped. The other is that it remains unclear in practice how committed Batchelor is to a pragmatic interpretation, rather than one that continues (at least implicitly) to rely on tradition through the historical appeal to canonical sources.

Of course, I also think that one underlying reason for these limitations in Batchelor’s account is his neglect of the Middle Way, which really only gets passing mentions here and there, and is never really highlighted as important, despite all Batchelor’s discussion of the character and teachings of the Buddha. As Batchelor was kind enough to write an appreciative foreword for ‘The Buddha’s Middle Way’, I hope this may change in future. The key point missing here so far, though, is that, although Batchelor recognises that metaphysics is a problem, he doesn’t show any recognition that negative metaphysics is just as much of a problem as positive. As negative metaphysics in reaction to positive is such a feature of many interpretations of secularism, this is obviously a crucial reason for being cautious about identifying oneself with it.

Second class practitioners? Kegan’s stages, Eternalism, and Secular Buddhism

In recent months I’ve been stimulated into a lot of new thoughts by reading Robert Kegan’s ‘The Evolving Self’. Kegan draws on the tradition of psychology that goes back to Jean Piaget, who first studied the cognitive and moral development of children and was able to isolate distinct stages in that development. But Kegan continues that development model into adulthood, isolating 5 relatively clear (though of course not totally distinct) stages. In each of these stages, it is a new level of awareness that makes the difference from the previous stage, by making what was previously taken for granted a new object of awareness. Using Kegan’s labels, the stages are as follows:

Infancy:  Objects not clearly differentiated

Stage 1: Impulsive Stage: Objects differentiated from each other, but not from self (early childhood)

Stage 2: Imperial Stage: Self recognised as acting in the world, and others as like me. Peer relations are bargains (late childhood, plus 6% of adults).

Stage 3: Interpersonal Stage: Others recognised as having perspectives different from oneself, and view of oneself is dependent on their acknowledgement (usually reached in adolescence). According to Natalie Morad, 58% of the adult population stay at this stage.

Stage 4: Institutional Stage: Truth believed to be formed by the self through reason, and to lie beyond the limitations of relationships, but nevertheless dependent on certain limited sources of knowledge (usually reached in adulthood – by about 36% of the population, often through university education or career demands).

Stage 5: Interindividual Stage: A recognition of differing sources of justification whilst recognising one’s own role in using them. ‘Genuine intimacy’ reached in relationships where independent judgement of each is secure (only reached by about 1% of the population, usually in later adulthood).

What is wonderful about this theoretical model is that it combines psychology, epistemology and ethics in a thoroughly convincing way. It is based on plenty of psychological evidence, and takes into account the complexity and vagueness of our transitions between stages, but nevertheless is able to identify the points of developmental stability that create each of the stages. It’s an immensely rich model, and I expect to be writing a lot more about it in the future. I will put links to some more resources about Kegan’s model at the bottom of this article.

What I’m interested in exploring here, though, is some thoughts about the relationship between the stages in this model, the Middle Way, and Buddhism. The relationship between stage 5 and the Middle Way should be obvious to anyone who explores them both. The Middle Way avoids absolutisations, and absolutisations usually mean taking for granted a particular source of information and its assumptions, whether those assumptions are positive or negative and whether they are found in a religious, political, philosophical, scientific, or whatever other context. At the same time, the Middle Way is not relativistic or nihilistic: it doesn’t assume that all sources of information are equally true. Rather, it’s the responsibility of each of us to make our own judgements about the justification of differing beliefs from different sources. At stage 5, people will start looking beyond the specific set of assumptions that are taken for granted in their starting culture, and look for value in very different approaches. They are thus more likely to be able to break down polarising assumptions (e.g. those of a specific religious tradition or scientific training) and move beyond the limitations of over-specialised experience. Nevertheless, if they’re securely in stage 5, that won’t make them feel hopelessly adrift. Their sense of confidence will be based on bodily experience rather than the absolute authority of particular sources.

Kegan’s stages make it clear why the Middle Way is valuable, and why its use is such an important element of the general human capacity to operate adequately in our changing environments, but also why so relatively few people seem ready to engage with it. If the figure of 1% at stage 5 is correct (which I have taken from Natalie Morad – she does not give a source), then we should not be surprised that most people are simply puzzled by the Middle Way and cannot see the point of it. For those not ready to move on from stage 4, it may seem flakey and over-vague, too reminiscent of the lack of rigour they associate with stage 3. For those still in stage 3, it will probably seem cold and impersonal, just a further puzzling stage 4 phenomenon.

I have recently been thinking about the role these stages play in the Buddhist tradition, where the idea of Middle Way has been preserved and passed down, even if it’s also been mixed with other assumptions. One of the things that’s always puzzled me in the Buddhist presentation of the Middle Way is the lack of even-handedness between the ‘eternalism’ and ‘nihilism’ that Buddhism identifies as the absolutes to be avoided. Eternalism is considered better, because it is closely associated with the role of lay as opposed to monastic Buddhism. The lay Buddhist, traditionally, aims not to practice the Middle Way but rather to conform to the absolutes of the law of karma, working to achieve merit within the just world-view created by belief in karma and rebirth, so as to gain a better rebirth in the future. Lay Buddhists are second-class practitioners, not generally considered capable of working towards nirvana just yet. But do Kegan’s stages provide a practical justification for this? Is it just that lay-people, caught up at levels 3 and 4, are simply not ready for the subtleties and insecurities of the Middle Way?

Only to some limited extent, I think. For one thing, we cannot assume that most monks or nuns are at level 5: many of them will have similar limitations. Nor can we assume that all lay people are not at level 5: there may be many reasons why they cannot ordain. For another, ordination can offer at best a very crude and discontinuous reflection of psychological stages. If one was to devise a social system that was optimally geared to helping people develop best at the stage they are at, it would not be one that separates people into first and second class practitioners for life, but something much more continuous, more flexible and less subject to potential abuses of power.

These thoughts about eternalism and the division between monastic and lay Buddhism have also led me onto another area of puzzlement in recent years – Secular Buddhism. The Middle Way Society originally arose from a group of people who met in a Secular Buddhist context, but Secular Buddhism is only sometimes, and somewhat incidentally, about the Middle Way (even though there are practical overlaps such as the use of meditation).  For a long time I used to engage in rather fruitless online debates with Secular Buddhists (at least those from the US-based Secular Buddhist Association) in continuing disbelief that they weren’t interested in the Middle Way, which seems to me such an obvious way of combining the strengths of both scientific/ secular and traditional Buddhist outlooks. But I’ve gradually been getting the message that most Secular Buddhists just aren’t interested, and usually won’t even get into discussion about what the Middle Way means, despite its prominence in Buddhist scriptures.

Kegan is beginning to give me a bit more of a general psychological explanation as to why this might be the case. With a few exceptions, most Secular Buddhists seem to be very much in a stage 4 way of thinking. In this case, it is stage 4, not based on traditional Buddhist ideology, but on naturalistic thinking that appeals to the results (rather than the methods) of science.  Many of them also seem to be trained in STEM subjects (sciences, maths, computing) where the basis of education often seems to be heavy on rigorous ways of proving presumed facts but light on imagining other possible perspectives. The chief intellectual publicist of the Secular Buddhist Association, Douglas Smith, is an analytic philosopher, with no evident interest in the ways that Buddhism might offer resources for questioning naturalism. The parallels with lay Buddhism are thus clear. Instead of karma and rebirth, Secular Buddhists of this kind rely on scientific results: but these provide a similar level of relatable security, and thus a basis of mass participation, for the latest generation of Westerners who do not want to accept supernatural beliefs but want an acceptable version of Buddhism.

So, if one concentrates instead on the Middle Way, is this hopelessly limiting oneself to a tiny elite? Well, I don’t think so, for several reasons – even though I can also see why people find the Middle Way a difficult concept to engage with. One reason is that the Middle Way provides a universality of perspective that is missing for those concentrating on stage 4. Stage 4 thinking is typically coherent, but polarised. Stage 4 religious thinkers are polarised against stage 4 secular ones, socialist or ‘liberal’ ones against conservative ones, and so on. It’s vital to encourage as many people as possible to move on to stage 5 for that reason, because it creates the conditions for a dialectical process in which people are able to reconsider their assumptions more profoundly. It’s not about being elitist, because it’s not about aggregating or using power, but rather about encouraging wider awareness. That’s where the critical universalism offered by the Middle Way becomes vital.

Another reason that I’m not too discouraged is that, even if Morad’s figures are correct, I can’t accept that the proportion of stage 5 thinkers is fixed, nor that the boundaries are particularly clear. I would imagine (but can’t demonstrate) that the numbers of stage 5 people are probably on an upward trend, due to rising levels of education, cultural diversity, religious experimentation etc. in the world as a whole. There may be many more stage 4 people around who can be coaxed on to stage 5 than 1% of the population.

A third reason why I think the Middle Way is not simply an idea for an elite is that it also forms a necessary part of our transition from any of Kegan’s stages to the next one. In the tricky transition stage, we cannot absolutise either the previous stage or the next one, but have to remain content with a messy in-between state for a while in order to actually make the transition. We have to let go of an old view of ourselves and others without grasping too hastily at the new one. In a wider sense, the Middle Way is simply a description of how people make progress and address conditions better, whether morally, epistemologically, scientifically, politically, artistically or psychologically. I suspect, then, that there are also ways of communicating it helpfully to people who are transitioning between earlier stages, even if they are not ready to engage with it so fully.

 

Some sources of further information on Robert Kegan’s psychological stages:

Natalie Morad’s article in Medium, part 1 and part 2

A very useful paper by Karen Eriksen giving more detail than Morad

David Chapman’s summary of Kegan’s model (it was from Chapman that I was first alerted to Kegan)

Video of Robert Kegan’s talk to the RSA (highly recommended):

 

Pictures: (1) Robert Kegan by US Navy (public domain). (2) Newari girls (lay Buddhists) by Krish Dulal CCBYSA3.0

The MWS Podcast: Episode 26, Martine Batchelor on Ethics from a Buddhist perspective

In this episode Martine Batchelor, a Buddhist teacher and author talks about ethics from a Buddhist perspective and to what extent it differs from more rule based ethical positions. We also explore topics such as absolutism versus relativism, karma, ‘engaged’ Buddhism, the precept of non-harming, laying people off, prisons and her understanding of the Middle Way.


MWS Podcast 26: Martine Batchelor as audio only:
Download audio: MWS_Podcast_26_Martine_Batchelor

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The MWS Podcast: Episode 16, Vishvapani Blomfield

In this episode the broadcaster, writer and mindfulness trainer Vishvapani Blomfield talks to us about mindfulness and the Middle Way both in terms of how he sees them being approached from a more secular or a more religious perspective. He also talks about enlightenment, Jung and integration, the relationship of the Middle Way with the arts, incrementality and his agnostic position on karma and rebirth.


MWS Podcast 16: Vishvapani Blomfield as audio only:
Download audio: MWS_Podcast_16_Vishvapani_Blomfield

Previous podcasts:

Episode 15: Lesley Jeffries and Jim O’Driscoll, the founders of Language in Conflict
Episode 14: The writer and journalist Mark Vernon on agnosticism.
Episode 13: Robert M. Ellis on his life and why he formed the Middle Way Society.
Episode 12: Paul Gilbert on Compassion Focused Therapy
Episode 11: Monica Garvey on Family Mediation
Episode 10: Emilie Åberg on horticultural therapy, agnosticism, the Quakers and awe.
Episode 9: T’ai Chi instructor John Bolwell gives an overview of this popular martial art.
Episode 8: Peter Goble on his career as a nurse and his work as a Buddhist Chaplain.
Episode 7: The author Stephen Batchelor on his work with photography and collage.
Episode 6: Iain McGilchrist, author of the Master and his Emissary.
Episode 5: Julian Adkins on introducing MWP to his meditation group in Edinburgh
Episode 4: Daren Dewitt on Nonviolent communiction.
Episode 3: Vidyamala Burch on her new book “Mindfulness for Health”.
Episode 2: Norma Smith on why she joined the society, art, agnosticism and metaphor.
Episode 1: Robert M. Ellis on critical thinking.

The MWS Podcast: Episode 7, Stephen Batchelor

In this episode, the secular Buddhist author Stephen Batchelor talks about his interest in photography and collage, how he sees art as an integrative practice and how he feels it relates to the Middle Way.

The Youtube version of the talk is illustrated with pictures from Stephen’s ‘Imperfect Mirrors’ series.


MWS Podcast 7: Stephen Batchelor as audio only:
Download audio: MWS_Podcast_7_Stephen Batchelor

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