The system of ontology that Arthur Schopenhauer proposes in The World as Will and Idea involves both the immanent and transcendental realms. It, like many other systems of the kind, is based on the assumption that the immanent realm where the speaking subject is located is imperfect and that true liberation lies in the transcendental realm. The paper recognises certain basic parallels between this system of ontology and the system proposed by Buddhism. Based on an analysis of the two systems, the paper argues that, while the trajectories of the liberatory progress presented in the two systems run parallel to each other, what Schopenhauer recognises as the ultimate reality is in fact part of the immanent realm, and that therefore, from a Buddhist philosophical perspective, there is no significant difference between the starting and end points of the liberatory progress proposed by Schopenhauer.
Schopenhauer situates his system of ontology in relation to those proposed by Plato and Kant (Schopenhauer 219-228). For Plato, what is found in the immanent realm is devoid of true being. What embody true being are what he calls the eternal Ideas. Everything located in the immanent realm are mere shadows of these eternal Ideas that are part of the transcendental realm. While the eternal Ideas, which exist for themselves, are permanent, their worldly manifestations are in a state of constant becoming. The eternal Ideas are not affected by what takes place in the immanent realm in any way. What Kant refers to as the thing-in-itself is somewhat parallel to the Platonic notion of the eternal Idea in the sense that the thing-in-itself is also external to the immanent realm and remains unaffected by what takes place in the immanent realm. The distinction between the noumenon and the phenomenon is fundamental to Kant’s scheme. According to Kant, the thing-in-itself, which is part of the noumenal state of existence, is essentially removed from human experience as the phenomenal world does not have any access to that state of existence.
The Schopenhauerian system of ontology could be seen as a synthesis of the Platonic and Kantian systems. Despite the apparent similarity between the Platonic notion of Idea and the Kantian notion of the thing-in-itself, Schopenhauer claims, “Idea and thing-in-itself are not entirely the one and the same,” (Schopenhauer 226) and he seems to base this claim on the idea that the thing-in-itself, unlike the Platonic Idea, cannot be known through human experience. He establishes a connection between the thing-in-itself and the Idea when he argues, “The Idea is for us rather the direct, and therefore adequate, objectivity of the thing-in-itself, which is, however, itself the will - the will as not yet objectified, not yet become idea” (Schopenhauer 226, emphasis in original). What humans experience are manifestations of this Idea mediated by what Schopenhauer calls sufficient reason, which he defines as “the form into which the Idea enters when it appears in the knowledge of the subject as individual” (Schopenhauer 227). The Schopenhauerian system, in this sense, consists of three levels of existence: the thing-in-itself, which itself is the will; the Idea, which is the direct objectivity of the thing-in-itself; and the idea (with a simple ‘i’), which is a manifestation of the Idea mediated by the principle of sufficient reason and which is an indirect, and also inadequate, objectivity of the thing-in-itself.
Schopenhauer’s claim that the thing-in-itself is nothing but the will is parallel to the fundamental Buddhist belief that desire (taņhā) is at the heart of existence.[1] According to Buddhism, every form of existence is defined by dukkha, which can loosely be translated as ‘dissatisfactoriness,’[2] and dukkha is caused by taņhā or desire. If dukkha (‘dissatisfactoriness’) is the true nature of all phenomena, taņhā, as the cause of dukkha, is the source of all phenomena. Taņhā is one of the twelve links of the Buddhist notion of paṭicca-samuppāda[3] (Dependent Origination), which refers to the system that keeps one locked in the vicious cycle of samsāra. Although taņhā is one of the twelve links of Dependent Origination, it is almost always highlighted as the central cause of dissatisfactoriness. Rahula defines taņhā as “the ‘principal thing’ and the ‘all-pervading thing’” (29). If taņhā or desire is the principal and all-pervading thing it has to be part of, if not itself is, what schopenhauer refers to as the thing-in-itself. At the same time, Schopenhauer’s claim that the will is the source of all phenomena (Schopenhauer 238) highlights the comparability of the will or the thing-in-itself to taņhā or desire.
What Schopenhauer has to say about knowledge can be explained in terms of the Buddhist concept of Dependent Origination. Schopenhauer argues, “Knowledge, now, as a rule, remains always subordinate to the service of the will, as indeed it originated for this service, and grew, so to speak, to the will, as the head to the body.” The knowledge that Schopenhauer refers to here is the knowledge of the phenomenal world, the knowledge that pertains to the worldly manifestations of the Platonic Idea. According to Buddhism, this kind of knowledge is called avidyā or avijjā, whose literal meaning is improper knowledge or ignorance. This kind of knowledge is improper because it fails to capture the true nature of existence. In the scheme of Dependent Origination, ignorance (avijjā) prompts one to take volitional actions, and that way, acquire karmic formations (saṃkhāra). These volitional actions or karmic formations condition the consciousness (viññāna) of the person. This consciousness determines the nature of the mental and physical phenomena (nāmarūpa), and they in turn condition the six faculties (salāyatana), which are the five physical sense-organs and the mind. These six faculties determine the nature of sensorial and mental contact (phassa), and contact leads to sensation (védanā). Sensation generates desire (taņhā), which in turn results in clinging (upādāna). Clinging conditions the process of becoming (bhava). As a result of becoming emerges birth (jāti), and birth leads to decay, death, lamentation, and pain (jarā marana sōka parideva).[4] In this scheme, one could see how ignorance leads to desire and, given the cyclical nature of the scheme, how desire, in turn, reinforces ignorance. This shows that ignorance and desire are mutually reinforcing.
Given the similarity between the Schopenhauerian notion of ordinary knowledge (knowledge of particular things) and the Buddhist notion of ignorance, there is a certain parallel between the Schopenhauerian claim that ordinary knowledge is always subordinate to the service of the will and the Buddhist understanding that ignorance and desire are “realities” that are locked in a scheme of mutual reinforcement. Nevertheless, the two understandings differ significantly from each other in that the relationship is unidirectional in the former and bidirectional in the latter. The Schopenhauerian scheme is unidirectional in the sense that it stresses how ordinary knowledge is essentially subordinate to the will and how the former is always in the service of the latter. The discussion does not provide any insights into any possible impact of the latter on the former. This position contrasts with the Buddhist understanding that each is both the cause and the effect of the other in some way.
Schopenhauer recognises the Platonic notion of the Idea as the ultimate reality attainable to the human being. He views the attainment of the Idea as “possible, but yet to be regarded as only exceptional,” (230) and the one who has attained this reality as “pure, will-less, painless, timeless subject of knowledge” (231, emphasis in original). The claim that the attainment of the Platonic Idea is possible but exceptional projects the non-attainment of this goal as ordinary. At the same time, the claim that the one who attains this ultimate reality is pure, will-less, and painless projects the the Platonic Idea as a pure, will-less, and painless state. It also implies that the one who has not attained this ultimate reality is characterised by impurity, will, and pain. Schopenhauer also claims that the one who attains the Platonic Idea stops tracing relations in accordance with the principle of sufficient reason and also ceases to be merely individual (230). Schopenhauer does not describe in detail the nature of the interaction between the principle of sufficient reason and an ordinary individual; nor does he define the role that an ordinary individual plays in determining the nature of the idea or the version of the Platonic Idea that appears in the knowledge of that individual. However, the emphasis that the definition of the principle of sufficient reason places on the individuality of the (not)knowing subject implies Schopenhauer’s assumption that ordinary knowledge is always a subjective interpretation of the Platonic Idea by the individual. The direct access to the Platonic Idea that the individual gains in the event of attaining the ultimate reality indicates that she is free from any control of the principle of sufficient reason. Given that the principle of sufficient reason is the very condition of individuality,[5] this freedom from the principle of sufficient reason results in a diffusion of her individuality.
The conceptualisation of the Platonic Idea as the ultimate reality attainable to the human being makes it comparable to nirvāņa in Buddhism. Buddhism identifies nirvāņa as the ultimate reality that any being could hope to attain.[6] Like in the case of the Platonic Idea, the attainment of nirvāņa is possible, but given that the number of individuals who are committed to pursuing this ultimate reality is minimal, it is also exceptional. Rahula describes nirvāņa as “the cessation (Nirodha) of dukkha” (Rahula 40). This description of nirvāņa highlights the fundamental Buddhist teaching regarding the nature of existence. According to Buddhism, all phenomena are in a state of constant change; therefore, all forms of existence are impermanent. At the same time, every phenomenon is devoid of its own-being; there is nothing about a phenomenon that could be identified as the essence of that phenomenon that holds it together on a permanent basis. Ordinary beings operate under the illusion that phenomena are permanent and ‘self’ (in the sense that they possess some form of essence that establish them as identities distinguishable from each other). Driven by this illusion, they become ‘willing’ individuals and crave for existence that has the illusion of permanence and ‘self.’ Nevertheless, due to the fundamental mismatch between their convictions and the true nature of reality, they constantly run into situations of hopelessness, and this sense of hopelessness gives rise to suffering. This is the sense in which all forms of existence is dukkha. From this perspective, the cessation of dukkha is the attainment of nirvāņa.
The statement ‘The cessation of dukkha is the attainment of nirvāņa’ raises the question “What does the cessation of dukkha really mean?” If dukkha is the very condition of existence the cessation of dukkha, logically speaking, should result in an annihilation of existence. According to the dominant meaning of this statement, anyone who attains nirvāņa should cease to exist. However, most, if not all, of those who are known to have attained nirvāņa, including the Buddha himself, did not “cease to exist” as an immediate result of this attainment, in the dominant sense of the term. This shows that the existence that gets annihilated at the moment of the attainment of nirvāņa is an existence of a different kind, or rather, existence understood in a different way. What the attainment of nirvāņa signifies an annihilation of is the condition that perpetuates existence through the accumulation of karmic energy. The annihilation of this condition does not end existence immediately, as it does not affect what the condition had already brought into existence and the karmic energy that had already been accumulated before the moment of the annihilation; nevertheless, existence as we know it is bound to come to an end, as the condition that keeps it going is not in place. According to Buddhism, what brings about the annihilation of the condition that perpetuates existence is the realisation that everything is empty of its own-being.[7] This realisation indicates one’s conviction that everything that is conditioned is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and not-self. When one is convinced that everything about existence is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and not-self she realises the futility of any attempt to attach herself to any form of existence.
This understanding of nirvāņa shows that to attain nirvāņa is to realise it, know it, or to be convinced of it. Nirvāņa, in this sense, is a form of knowledge. It is knowing how, as well as the knowledge that certain propositions are true.[8] It is not a gift that is granted by a superior being for the meritorious deeds that one has done in her lifetime; nor is it a superior place that one wins the right to enter into or one is allowed into. The knowledge that nirvāņa represents indicates a shift of focus from what are perceived to be individual phenomena with fixed identities to the quality that is most fundamental to all phenomena, which is emptiness, or the absence of own-being.
The realisation that all forms of existence are empty of their own-being indicates a rejection not only of the various categories in terms of which one understands existence, but also the very notion of categorisation. When something is empty of its own-being there is nothing about it that provides a basis for the construction of an identity for it. Such a phenomenon is always elusive, as it cannot have a fixed identity, and any identity given to such a phenomenon is illusive. The conviction that all forms of existence are empty of their own-being makes one realise that this truth applies not only to the phenomena that are external to her but also to her own self.[9] She perceives the emptiness of the distinction between the self and the other and the meaninglessness of the concept of “I.” This understanding results in a diffusion of her individuality.
The diffusion of one’s individuality that the realisation of all forms of existence as empty of their own-being brings about, however, does not mean that she immediately ceases to exist as an individual. Rahula describes the one who has come to this realisation, and thereby has attained nirvāņa, as someone who lives fully and happily in the present.[10] This shows that such an individual continues to exist as an individual until her life lasts. Nevertheless, her individuality differs from that of an ordinary person in that she does not respond to the phenomena around her in the same way an ordinary person does. The realisation that she has gained enables her to experience the world without attaching herself to it. Her individuality is no longer self-centric. This is the sense in which the diffusion of her individuality needs to be understood.
Based on a reading of the Schopenhauerian and Buddhist schemes of existence and liberation, especially with regard to the areas discussed above, one could come to the conclusion that the two schemes run parallel to each other. Both are based on the assumption that everyday existence is imperfect, and therefore, unsatisfactory; both argue that true liberation could be achieved by transcending this existence; both view liberation not as movement from a less desirable place to a more desirable place, but as a transition from one form of knowledge to another form of knowledge; both recognise the diffusion of individuality as a necessary consequence of the attainment of the ultimate reality. However, certain fundamental distinctions that exist between the two schemes show that such a conclusion is problematic.
The most fundamental distinction between the two schemes has to do with the attitude that each maintains towards the notion of the essence or thing-in-itself. According to Schopenhauer, the particular “things” found in the world are devoid of any essence. They are mere worldly manifestations of the Platonic Idea. Whatever the essence that we perceive them to possess are essences that we have imposed on them using our principle of sufficient reason. There is nothing that could be considered an essence that is located within worldly phenomena. However, this, for Schopenhauer, does not mean that there is no such thing as essence. For him, essence is located in the Platonic Idea. Since the Platonic Idea is permanent and unchanging, what is called the essence or the thing-in-itself is always a constant.
Buddhism rejects the idea of the essence or thing-in-itself. The fact that Buddhist philosophy is predicated on this rejection of the notion of the essence explains the attitude of Buddhism towards this notion. This rejection is discussed in detail in the Buddhist teaching of no-self (anatta). The religions and systems of belief that were dominant in India at the time Buddhism emerged believed in a permanent, everlasting, and absolute entity called the ātman, which is translated into English as the soul. They agreed that all forms of worldly existence were impermanent but argued that the ātman, which worldly phenomena were mere manifestations of, was permanent. Buddhism denied the existence of an ātman.[11] The common statement (which is attributed to the Buddha himself) that after a person’s death who or what is reborn is neither the same person who died nor a different person embodies the principle of no-self. Although one could argue that the sense of continuity suggested by this statement indicates the presence of a constant, to understand this sense of continuity as indicating the presence of a constant would be to misconceptualise the principle of no-self. According to Buddhism, a person, or what is perceived to be the ‘self’ of that person, is a particular combination of the five aggregates: form (rūpa), sensation (védanā), perception (saññā), mental formations (saṃkhāra), and consciousness (viññāna) [Mitchell and Jacoby 36-37]. Based on the Buddhist theory of karma (volitional actions), It could be argued that what determines the nature of this configuration is karma, which exists in the form of an energy. Given that karma itself is empty of its own-being and is subject to change, there is nothing about a being that could be identified as a constant self.[12]
According to Buddhism, not only worldly phenomena but also nirvāņa, which is the ultimate reality, is empty of its own-being. This is partly why it cannot be thought of as a blissful place or realm that those who have ceased dukkha enter and exist in. Nirvāņa cannot be conceptualised for the simple reason that there is nothing about nirvāņa that lends itself to any sort of conceptualisation. In Buddhism, a person who attains this ultimate reality is often likened to a flame that goes off. When the flame is out nobody can tell where the flame went. The flame does not go anywhere; it just ceases to be; and so does an awakened being. When someone achieves awakening she stops acquiring any more karma. She continues to be in existence as long as her previously acquired karmic energy fuels her existence. As soon as that energy is spent, which is the moment that ordinary language refers to as death, she ceases to exist, just like the flame, and there is no continuation of anything beyond that point.
Given that liberation in Buddhism could only be achieved through transcendence of all essence, Buddhism would not accept the Platonic Idea, which is imbued with essence, as an endpoint of a true liberatory process. According to Buddhism, the Platonic Idea, just like any other reality that is perceived to possess essence is essentially a worldly phenomenon. Therefore, despite the apparent parallels between the trajectories of the liberatory progress presented by Schopenhauer and Buddhism, what Schopenhauer recognises as the ultimate reality is in fact part of the immanent realm. Therefore, from a Buddhist philosophical perspective, there is no significant difference between the starting and end points of the liberatory progress proposed by Schopenhauer.
Bibliography
Collins, Steven. Nirvana: Concept, Imagery, Narrative. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
Droit, Roger-Pol. The Cult of Nothingness: The Philosophers and the Buddha. Translated by David Streight and Pamela Vohnson. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2003.
Mitchell, Donald W., and Sarah H. Jacoby. Buddhism: Introducing the Buddhist Experience. 3rd ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014.
Rahula, Walpola. What the Buddha Taught. 2nd ed. New York: Grove Press, 1974.
Schopenhauer, Arthur. The Word as Will and Idea. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons.
Notes
[1] Both the Oxford English Dictionary and the Merriam-Webster English Dictionary define ‘will’ as ‘desire.’ The following statement by the Buddha himself shows that the two terms refer to the same reality: “When one understands the nutriment of mental volition one understands the three forms of ‘thirst’ (taņhā). Thus the terms ‘thirst’, ‘volition’, ‘mental volition’ and ‘karma’ all denote the same thing: they denote the desire, the will to be, to exist, to re-exist to become more and more, to grow more and more, to accumulate more and more” (Rahula 31).
[2] As both Rahula (16) and Collins (33) point out, the common translation of dukkha as ‘suffering’ is both unsatisfactory and misleading. The translation of dukkha as ‘dissatisfactoriness,’ which is found in Mitchell and Jacoby (34) and also Collins (34), distances itself from this common and inaccurate translation of the term. Although the idea of ‘suffering’ is part of dukkha, to reduce the entire meaning of the term to ‘suffering’ is to misconceptualise this fundamental concept.
[3] Paṭicca-samuppāda is called Conditioned Genesis (Rahula), Dependent Arising (Mitchell and Jacoby), and Dependent Origination (Collins).
[4] These twelve steps should be understood as forming a cycle where each step is the effect of the previous step and the cause of the following step. This cyclical arrangement, on the one hand, renders the concepts of ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ invalid; on the other hand, it shows that each step has some sort of a bearing on the rest of the steps.
[5] Schopenhauer claims that, in the event of a person attaining the ultimate reality, “knowledge breaks free from the service of the will, by the subject ceasing to be merely individual, and thus becoming the pure will-less subject of knowledge, which no longer traces relations in accordance with the principle of sufficient reason” (230). His assumption that there is a correlative relationship between the extent to which one is bound by the principle of sufficient reason and her individuality is evident here. Considering the correlative nature of the relationship, it could be argued that each becomes the condition of the other.
[6] Buddhism talks about two types of nirvāņa: the nirvāņa attained during one’s life (nirvāņa) and the nirvāņa attained after death (parinirvāņa). [Please see Collins (39-47) for a discussion of the distinction between the two.] Collins argues “But there has been some confusion here, both because some scholars have conflated the two, either in order to argue a particular case or inadvertently, and because of the way the two words are used” (39). Nevertheless, the fact that the nirvāņa attained during one’s lifetime is signified by the unmarked term nirvāņa (as opposed to its marked counterpart parinirvāņa) indicates that any understanding of nirvāņa should be based on an analysis of the unmarked term. Therefore, the paper primarily focuses on this version of nirvāņa. This choice of focus is also based on the consideration that the Platonic Idea, which nirvāņa is being compared to, is also something attained during one’s lifetime.
[7] The fundamental Buddhist claim that everything is empty of its own-being is often used to argue that Buddhism is nihilistic. This, on the one hand, is the inevitable reduction that any attempt to assess Buddhism in terms of the specifically western concept of nihilism leads to. On the other hand, it indicates a misconceptualisation of both Buddhism and nihilism. See Droit for a detailed discussion of what appears to be the basis for this claim.
[8] Collins states, “Pali words for enlightened knowledge can thus be seen to donate various forms of knowing how, as well as the knowledge that certain propositions are true” (43). Given that Pali is the language of Buddhism, especially the Theravāda version of it, the Pali words of enlightened knowledge could be seen as adequate representations of what enlightened knowledge mean in Buddhism.
[9] Mitchell and Jacoby states, “Impermanence is not just a characteristic of the phenomena of the external world; it applies to oneself” (35).
[10] Rahula states: “He who has realized the Truth, Nirvāņa, is the happiest being in the world. He is free from all ‘complexes’ and obsessions, the worries and troubles that torment others. His mental health is perfect. He does not repent the past, nor does he brood over the future. He lives fully in the present. Therefore he appreciates and enjoys things in the purest sense without self-projections. He is joyful, exultant, enjoying the pure life, his faculties pleased, free from anxiety, serene and peaceful. As he is free from selfish desire, hatred, ignorance, conceit, pride, and all such ‘defilements’, he is pure and gentle, full of universal love, compassion, kindness, sympathy, understanding and tolerance. His service to others is of the purest, for he has no thought of self. He gains nothing, accumulates nothing, not even anything spiritual, because he is free from the illusion of Self, and the ‘thirst’ for becoming” (43).
[11] Rahula argues, “Buddhism stands unique in the history of human thought in denying the existence of such a Soul, Self, or Ātman. According to the teaching of the Buddha, the idea of a self is an imaginary, false belief which has no corresponding reality, and it produces harmful thoughts of ‘me’ and ‘mine’, selfish desire, craving, attachment, hatred, ill-will, conceit, pride, egoism, and other defilements, impurities and problems. It is the source of all the troubles in the world from personal conflicts to wars between nations. In short, this false view can be traced all the evil in the world” (51).
[12] The common question, “If there is no permanent self what is it that gets carried over to the next birth?” indicates the assumption on the part of the questioner that ‘life,’ ‘death,’ and ‘rebirth’ are independent and meaningful categories. Such a question does not arise when these concepts are understood to be empty of their own-being.
Schopenhauer situates his system of ontology in relation to those proposed by Plato and Kant (Schopenhauer 219-228). For Plato, what is found in the immanent realm is devoid of true being. What embody true being are what he calls the eternal Ideas. Everything located in the immanent realm are mere shadows of these eternal Ideas that are part of the transcendental realm. While the eternal Ideas, which exist for themselves, are permanent, their worldly manifestations are in a state of constant becoming. The eternal Ideas are not affected by what takes place in the immanent realm in any way. What Kant refers to as the thing-in-itself is somewhat parallel to the Platonic notion of the eternal Idea in the sense that the thing-in-itself is also external to the immanent realm and remains unaffected by what takes place in the immanent realm. The distinction between the noumenon and the phenomenon is fundamental to Kant’s scheme. According to Kant, the thing-in-itself, which is part of the noumenal state of existence, is essentially removed from human experience as the phenomenal world does not have any access to that state of existence.
The Schopenhauerian system of ontology could be seen as a synthesis of the Platonic and Kantian systems. Despite the apparent similarity between the Platonic notion of Idea and the Kantian notion of the thing-in-itself, Schopenhauer claims, “Idea and thing-in-itself are not entirely the one and the same,” (Schopenhauer 226) and he seems to base this claim on the idea that the thing-in-itself, unlike the Platonic Idea, cannot be known through human experience. He establishes a connection between the thing-in-itself and the Idea when he argues, “The Idea is for us rather the direct, and therefore adequate, objectivity of the thing-in-itself, which is, however, itself the will - the will as not yet objectified, not yet become idea” (Schopenhauer 226, emphasis in original). What humans experience are manifestations of this Idea mediated by what Schopenhauer calls sufficient reason, which he defines as “the form into which the Idea enters when it appears in the knowledge of the subject as individual” (Schopenhauer 227). The Schopenhauerian system, in this sense, consists of three levels of existence: the thing-in-itself, which itself is the will; the Idea, which is the direct objectivity of the thing-in-itself; and the idea (with a simple ‘i’), which is a manifestation of the Idea mediated by the principle of sufficient reason and which is an indirect, and also inadequate, objectivity of the thing-in-itself.
Schopenhauer’s claim that the thing-in-itself is nothing but the will is parallel to the fundamental Buddhist belief that desire (taņhā) is at the heart of existence.[1] According to Buddhism, every form of existence is defined by dukkha, which can loosely be translated as ‘dissatisfactoriness,’[2] and dukkha is caused by taņhā or desire. If dukkha (‘dissatisfactoriness’) is the true nature of all phenomena, taņhā, as the cause of dukkha, is the source of all phenomena. Taņhā is one of the twelve links of the Buddhist notion of paṭicca-samuppāda[3] (Dependent Origination), which refers to the system that keeps one locked in the vicious cycle of samsāra. Although taņhā is one of the twelve links of Dependent Origination, it is almost always highlighted as the central cause of dissatisfactoriness. Rahula defines taņhā as “the ‘principal thing’ and the ‘all-pervading thing’” (29). If taņhā or desire is the principal and all-pervading thing it has to be part of, if not itself is, what schopenhauer refers to as the thing-in-itself. At the same time, Schopenhauer’s claim that the will is the source of all phenomena (Schopenhauer 238) highlights the comparability of the will or the thing-in-itself to taņhā or desire.
What Schopenhauer has to say about knowledge can be explained in terms of the Buddhist concept of Dependent Origination. Schopenhauer argues, “Knowledge, now, as a rule, remains always subordinate to the service of the will, as indeed it originated for this service, and grew, so to speak, to the will, as the head to the body.” The knowledge that Schopenhauer refers to here is the knowledge of the phenomenal world, the knowledge that pertains to the worldly manifestations of the Platonic Idea. According to Buddhism, this kind of knowledge is called avidyā or avijjā, whose literal meaning is improper knowledge or ignorance. This kind of knowledge is improper because it fails to capture the true nature of existence. In the scheme of Dependent Origination, ignorance (avijjā) prompts one to take volitional actions, and that way, acquire karmic formations (saṃkhāra). These volitional actions or karmic formations condition the consciousness (viññāna) of the person. This consciousness determines the nature of the mental and physical phenomena (nāmarūpa), and they in turn condition the six faculties (salāyatana), which are the five physical sense-organs and the mind. These six faculties determine the nature of sensorial and mental contact (phassa), and contact leads to sensation (védanā). Sensation generates desire (taņhā), which in turn results in clinging (upādāna). Clinging conditions the process of becoming (bhava). As a result of becoming emerges birth (jāti), and birth leads to decay, death, lamentation, and pain (jarā marana sōka parideva).[4] In this scheme, one could see how ignorance leads to desire and, given the cyclical nature of the scheme, how desire, in turn, reinforces ignorance. This shows that ignorance and desire are mutually reinforcing.
Given the similarity between the Schopenhauerian notion of ordinary knowledge (knowledge of particular things) and the Buddhist notion of ignorance, there is a certain parallel between the Schopenhauerian claim that ordinary knowledge is always subordinate to the service of the will and the Buddhist understanding that ignorance and desire are “realities” that are locked in a scheme of mutual reinforcement. Nevertheless, the two understandings differ significantly from each other in that the relationship is unidirectional in the former and bidirectional in the latter. The Schopenhauerian scheme is unidirectional in the sense that it stresses how ordinary knowledge is essentially subordinate to the will and how the former is always in the service of the latter. The discussion does not provide any insights into any possible impact of the latter on the former. This position contrasts with the Buddhist understanding that each is both the cause and the effect of the other in some way.
Schopenhauer recognises the Platonic notion of the Idea as the ultimate reality attainable to the human being. He views the attainment of the Idea as “possible, but yet to be regarded as only exceptional,” (230) and the one who has attained this reality as “pure, will-less, painless, timeless subject of knowledge” (231, emphasis in original). The claim that the attainment of the Platonic Idea is possible but exceptional projects the non-attainment of this goal as ordinary. At the same time, the claim that the one who attains this ultimate reality is pure, will-less, and painless projects the the Platonic Idea as a pure, will-less, and painless state. It also implies that the one who has not attained this ultimate reality is characterised by impurity, will, and pain. Schopenhauer also claims that the one who attains the Platonic Idea stops tracing relations in accordance with the principle of sufficient reason and also ceases to be merely individual (230). Schopenhauer does not describe in detail the nature of the interaction between the principle of sufficient reason and an ordinary individual; nor does he define the role that an ordinary individual plays in determining the nature of the idea or the version of the Platonic Idea that appears in the knowledge of that individual. However, the emphasis that the definition of the principle of sufficient reason places on the individuality of the (not)knowing subject implies Schopenhauer’s assumption that ordinary knowledge is always a subjective interpretation of the Platonic Idea by the individual. The direct access to the Platonic Idea that the individual gains in the event of attaining the ultimate reality indicates that she is free from any control of the principle of sufficient reason. Given that the principle of sufficient reason is the very condition of individuality,[5] this freedom from the principle of sufficient reason results in a diffusion of her individuality.
The conceptualisation of the Platonic Idea as the ultimate reality attainable to the human being makes it comparable to nirvāņa in Buddhism. Buddhism identifies nirvāņa as the ultimate reality that any being could hope to attain.[6] Like in the case of the Platonic Idea, the attainment of nirvāņa is possible, but given that the number of individuals who are committed to pursuing this ultimate reality is minimal, it is also exceptional. Rahula describes nirvāņa as “the cessation (Nirodha) of dukkha” (Rahula 40). This description of nirvāņa highlights the fundamental Buddhist teaching regarding the nature of existence. According to Buddhism, all phenomena are in a state of constant change; therefore, all forms of existence are impermanent. At the same time, every phenomenon is devoid of its own-being; there is nothing about a phenomenon that could be identified as the essence of that phenomenon that holds it together on a permanent basis. Ordinary beings operate under the illusion that phenomena are permanent and ‘self’ (in the sense that they possess some form of essence that establish them as identities distinguishable from each other). Driven by this illusion, they become ‘willing’ individuals and crave for existence that has the illusion of permanence and ‘self.’ Nevertheless, due to the fundamental mismatch between their convictions and the true nature of reality, they constantly run into situations of hopelessness, and this sense of hopelessness gives rise to suffering. This is the sense in which all forms of existence is dukkha. From this perspective, the cessation of dukkha is the attainment of nirvāņa.
The statement ‘The cessation of dukkha is the attainment of nirvāņa’ raises the question “What does the cessation of dukkha really mean?” If dukkha is the very condition of existence the cessation of dukkha, logically speaking, should result in an annihilation of existence. According to the dominant meaning of this statement, anyone who attains nirvāņa should cease to exist. However, most, if not all, of those who are known to have attained nirvāņa, including the Buddha himself, did not “cease to exist” as an immediate result of this attainment, in the dominant sense of the term. This shows that the existence that gets annihilated at the moment of the attainment of nirvāņa is an existence of a different kind, or rather, existence understood in a different way. What the attainment of nirvāņa signifies an annihilation of is the condition that perpetuates existence through the accumulation of karmic energy. The annihilation of this condition does not end existence immediately, as it does not affect what the condition had already brought into existence and the karmic energy that had already been accumulated before the moment of the annihilation; nevertheless, existence as we know it is bound to come to an end, as the condition that keeps it going is not in place. According to Buddhism, what brings about the annihilation of the condition that perpetuates existence is the realisation that everything is empty of its own-being.[7] This realisation indicates one’s conviction that everything that is conditioned is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and not-self. When one is convinced that everything about existence is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and not-self she realises the futility of any attempt to attach herself to any form of existence.
This understanding of nirvāņa shows that to attain nirvāņa is to realise it, know it, or to be convinced of it. Nirvāņa, in this sense, is a form of knowledge. It is knowing how, as well as the knowledge that certain propositions are true.[8] It is not a gift that is granted by a superior being for the meritorious deeds that one has done in her lifetime; nor is it a superior place that one wins the right to enter into or one is allowed into. The knowledge that nirvāņa represents indicates a shift of focus from what are perceived to be individual phenomena with fixed identities to the quality that is most fundamental to all phenomena, which is emptiness, or the absence of own-being.
The realisation that all forms of existence are empty of their own-being indicates a rejection not only of the various categories in terms of which one understands existence, but also the very notion of categorisation. When something is empty of its own-being there is nothing about it that provides a basis for the construction of an identity for it. Such a phenomenon is always elusive, as it cannot have a fixed identity, and any identity given to such a phenomenon is illusive. The conviction that all forms of existence are empty of their own-being makes one realise that this truth applies not only to the phenomena that are external to her but also to her own self.[9] She perceives the emptiness of the distinction between the self and the other and the meaninglessness of the concept of “I.” This understanding results in a diffusion of her individuality.
The diffusion of one’s individuality that the realisation of all forms of existence as empty of their own-being brings about, however, does not mean that she immediately ceases to exist as an individual. Rahula describes the one who has come to this realisation, and thereby has attained nirvāņa, as someone who lives fully and happily in the present.[10] This shows that such an individual continues to exist as an individual until her life lasts. Nevertheless, her individuality differs from that of an ordinary person in that she does not respond to the phenomena around her in the same way an ordinary person does. The realisation that she has gained enables her to experience the world without attaching herself to it. Her individuality is no longer self-centric. This is the sense in which the diffusion of her individuality needs to be understood.
Based on a reading of the Schopenhauerian and Buddhist schemes of existence and liberation, especially with regard to the areas discussed above, one could come to the conclusion that the two schemes run parallel to each other. Both are based on the assumption that everyday existence is imperfect, and therefore, unsatisfactory; both argue that true liberation could be achieved by transcending this existence; both view liberation not as movement from a less desirable place to a more desirable place, but as a transition from one form of knowledge to another form of knowledge; both recognise the diffusion of individuality as a necessary consequence of the attainment of the ultimate reality. However, certain fundamental distinctions that exist between the two schemes show that such a conclusion is problematic.
The most fundamental distinction between the two schemes has to do with the attitude that each maintains towards the notion of the essence or thing-in-itself. According to Schopenhauer, the particular “things” found in the world are devoid of any essence. They are mere worldly manifestations of the Platonic Idea. Whatever the essence that we perceive them to possess are essences that we have imposed on them using our principle of sufficient reason. There is nothing that could be considered an essence that is located within worldly phenomena. However, this, for Schopenhauer, does not mean that there is no such thing as essence. For him, essence is located in the Platonic Idea. Since the Platonic Idea is permanent and unchanging, what is called the essence or the thing-in-itself is always a constant.
Buddhism rejects the idea of the essence or thing-in-itself. The fact that Buddhist philosophy is predicated on this rejection of the notion of the essence explains the attitude of Buddhism towards this notion. This rejection is discussed in detail in the Buddhist teaching of no-self (anatta). The religions and systems of belief that were dominant in India at the time Buddhism emerged believed in a permanent, everlasting, and absolute entity called the ātman, which is translated into English as the soul. They agreed that all forms of worldly existence were impermanent but argued that the ātman, which worldly phenomena were mere manifestations of, was permanent. Buddhism denied the existence of an ātman.[11] The common statement (which is attributed to the Buddha himself) that after a person’s death who or what is reborn is neither the same person who died nor a different person embodies the principle of no-self. Although one could argue that the sense of continuity suggested by this statement indicates the presence of a constant, to understand this sense of continuity as indicating the presence of a constant would be to misconceptualise the principle of no-self. According to Buddhism, a person, or what is perceived to be the ‘self’ of that person, is a particular combination of the five aggregates: form (rūpa), sensation (védanā), perception (saññā), mental formations (saṃkhāra), and consciousness (viññāna) [Mitchell and Jacoby 36-37]. Based on the Buddhist theory of karma (volitional actions), It could be argued that what determines the nature of this configuration is karma, which exists in the form of an energy. Given that karma itself is empty of its own-being and is subject to change, there is nothing about a being that could be identified as a constant self.[12]
According to Buddhism, not only worldly phenomena but also nirvāņa, which is the ultimate reality, is empty of its own-being. This is partly why it cannot be thought of as a blissful place or realm that those who have ceased dukkha enter and exist in. Nirvāņa cannot be conceptualised for the simple reason that there is nothing about nirvāņa that lends itself to any sort of conceptualisation. In Buddhism, a person who attains this ultimate reality is often likened to a flame that goes off. When the flame is out nobody can tell where the flame went. The flame does not go anywhere; it just ceases to be; and so does an awakened being. When someone achieves awakening she stops acquiring any more karma. She continues to be in existence as long as her previously acquired karmic energy fuels her existence. As soon as that energy is spent, which is the moment that ordinary language refers to as death, she ceases to exist, just like the flame, and there is no continuation of anything beyond that point.
Given that liberation in Buddhism could only be achieved through transcendence of all essence, Buddhism would not accept the Platonic Idea, which is imbued with essence, as an endpoint of a true liberatory process. According to Buddhism, the Platonic Idea, just like any other reality that is perceived to possess essence is essentially a worldly phenomenon. Therefore, despite the apparent parallels between the trajectories of the liberatory progress presented by Schopenhauer and Buddhism, what Schopenhauer recognises as the ultimate reality is in fact part of the immanent realm. Therefore, from a Buddhist philosophical perspective, there is no significant difference between the starting and end points of the liberatory progress proposed by Schopenhauer.
Bibliography
Collins, Steven. Nirvana: Concept, Imagery, Narrative. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
Droit, Roger-Pol. The Cult of Nothingness: The Philosophers and the Buddha. Translated by David Streight and Pamela Vohnson. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2003.
Mitchell, Donald W., and Sarah H. Jacoby. Buddhism: Introducing the Buddhist Experience. 3rd ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014.
Rahula, Walpola. What the Buddha Taught. 2nd ed. New York: Grove Press, 1974.
Schopenhauer, Arthur. The Word as Will and Idea. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons.
Notes
[1] Both the Oxford English Dictionary and the Merriam-Webster English Dictionary define ‘will’ as ‘desire.’ The following statement by the Buddha himself shows that the two terms refer to the same reality: “When one understands the nutriment of mental volition one understands the three forms of ‘thirst’ (taņhā). Thus the terms ‘thirst’, ‘volition’, ‘mental volition’ and ‘karma’ all denote the same thing: they denote the desire, the will to be, to exist, to re-exist to become more and more, to grow more and more, to accumulate more and more” (Rahula 31).
[2] As both Rahula (16) and Collins (33) point out, the common translation of dukkha as ‘suffering’ is both unsatisfactory and misleading. The translation of dukkha as ‘dissatisfactoriness,’ which is found in Mitchell and Jacoby (34) and also Collins (34), distances itself from this common and inaccurate translation of the term. Although the idea of ‘suffering’ is part of dukkha, to reduce the entire meaning of the term to ‘suffering’ is to misconceptualise this fundamental concept.
[3] Paṭicca-samuppāda is called Conditioned Genesis (Rahula), Dependent Arising (Mitchell and Jacoby), and Dependent Origination (Collins).
[4] These twelve steps should be understood as forming a cycle where each step is the effect of the previous step and the cause of the following step. This cyclical arrangement, on the one hand, renders the concepts of ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ invalid; on the other hand, it shows that each step has some sort of a bearing on the rest of the steps.
[5] Schopenhauer claims that, in the event of a person attaining the ultimate reality, “knowledge breaks free from the service of the will, by the subject ceasing to be merely individual, and thus becoming the pure will-less subject of knowledge, which no longer traces relations in accordance with the principle of sufficient reason” (230). His assumption that there is a correlative relationship between the extent to which one is bound by the principle of sufficient reason and her individuality is evident here. Considering the correlative nature of the relationship, it could be argued that each becomes the condition of the other.
[6] Buddhism talks about two types of nirvāņa: the nirvāņa attained during one’s life (nirvāņa) and the nirvāņa attained after death (parinirvāņa). [Please see Collins (39-47) for a discussion of the distinction between the two.] Collins argues “But there has been some confusion here, both because some scholars have conflated the two, either in order to argue a particular case or inadvertently, and because of the way the two words are used” (39). Nevertheless, the fact that the nirvāņa attained during one’s lifetime is signified by the unmarked term nirvāņa (as opposed to its marked counterpart parinirvāņa) indicates that any understanding of nirvāņa should be based on an analysis of the unmarked term. Therefore, the paper primarily focuses on this version of nirvāņa. This choice of focus is also based on the consideration that the Platonic Idea, which nirvāņa is being compared to, is also something attained during one’s lifetime.
[7] The fundamental Buddhist claim that everything is empty of its own-being is often used to argue that Buddhism is nihilistic. This, on the one hand, is the inevitable reduction that any attempt to assess Buddhism in terms of the specifically western concept of nihilism leads to. On the other hand, it indicates a misconceptualisation of both Buddhism and nihilism. See Droit for a detailed discussion of what appears to be the basis for this claim.
[8] Collins states, “Pali words for enlightened knowledge can thus be seen to donate various forms of knowing how, as well as the knowledge that certain propositions are true” (43). Given that Pali is the language of Buddhism, especially the Theravāda version of it, the Pali words of enlightened knowledge could be seen as adequate representations of what enlightened knowledge mean in Buddhism.
[9] Mitchell and Jacoby states, “Impermanence is not just a characteristic of the phenomena of the external world; it applies to oneself” (35).
[10] Rahula states: “He who has realized the Truth, Nirvāņa, is the happiest being in the world. He is free from all ‘complexes’ and obsessions, the worries and troubles that torment others. His mental health is perfect. He does not repent the past, nor does he brood over the future. He lives fully in the present. Therefore he appreciates and enjoys things in the purest sense without self-projections. He is joyful, exultant, enjoying the pure life, his faculties pleased, free from anxiety, serene and peaceful. As he is free from selfish desire, hatred, ignorance, conceit, pride, and all such ‘defilements’, he is pure and gentle, full of universal love, compassion, kindness, sympathy, understanding and tolerance. His service to others is of the purest, for he has no thought of self. He gains nothing, accumulates nothing, not even anything spiritual, because he is free from the illusion of Self, and the ‘thirst’ for becoming” (43).
[11] Rahula argues, “Buddhism stands unique in the history of human thought in denying the existence of such a Soul, Self, or Ātman. According to the teaching of the Buddha, the idea of a self is an imaginary, false belief which has no corresponding reality, and it produces harmful thoughts of ‘me’ and ‘mine’, selfish desire, craving, attachment, hatred, ill-will, conceit, pride, egoism, and other defilements, impurities and problems. It is the source of all the troubles in the world from personal conflicts to wars between nations. In short, this false view can be traced all the evil in the world” (51).
[12] The common question, “If there is no permanent self what is it that gets carried over to the next birth?” indicates the assumption on the part of the questioner that ‘life,’ ‘death,’ and ‘rebirth’ are independent and meaningful categories. Such a question does not arise when these concepts are understood to be empty of their own-being.