The Heart Sutra, Compassion and Thought

The Heart Sutra is one of the most important pieces of Buddhist literature. In a relatively short space it conveys the critical idea that enlightenment requires that our skandhas be empty. The Buddha taught that an individual is made up of a combination of five skandhas---form, sensation, perception, mental formulations, and consciousness. In very simple terms, they may be seen collectively as representing our ego. Once the latter has been “destroyed,” enlightenment is possible and compassion may flourish.

Compassion is often seen as a sensation of concern about those in need, which it certainly is. But it is much more than that. In simple terms again, compassion is a comprehensive sense of appreciation of and concern for the well-being all people at all times. They do not have to be in need for this sense to exist. In fact, if that is the only time it is manifest, we are likely to misbehave. The reason is our normal responses to conflict, situations in which others disagree with us or appear to obstruct a goal we have. Conflict often brings out the worst in us as we attempt to force the universe, in the form of the human obstacle in front of us, to do as we wish. That usually means unpleasantness in the form of hostile emotions coupled with facts, pseudo-facts, misrepresentations, and outright lies. We will do anything to prevail in this contest, because we live in fear that what we want we may not get. Compassion is absent.

Back to the Sutra. Buddhist masters teach that as the ego becomes less and less a force (as its components move toward “destruction”), compassion increases. A person may not believe the Buddhist masters or stories about the challenging role of our egos. But it is clear that we cannot have much compassion when our ego is active, when the self is the main focus. Over the last 30 years or so we have seen considerable growth in narcissistic behavior---“this is all about me.” For many people, instead of the ego receding, it has actually grown to the point where their needs prevail over everything and everyone in all circumstances. Naturally, the more focus on me, the less on you. Morality, fairness, and appropriateness are irrelevant. Is it any wonder then that compassion has also diminished and incivility increased?

Now to thinking. In the grip of narcissism or fear of loss we act out automatically to protect our needs and goals, events to which we are often completely oblivious. We are emoting, but not thinking at all. Thinking asks that we attend to incoming information in a fair and objective manner, even (especially) if we do not like it---the essence of intellectual honesty. Selfcenteredness and fear cause us to act in harmful ways towards others, as our needs must prevail no matter what. I am not referring so much to big harm, but mainly to the “little” harms we do day to day when differing with others. Imagining that our view of the world (especially and most damagingly so in political aspects) is correct and the other person’s is wrong practically guarantees the disappearance of compassion and presence of harmful interactions. The need for certainty in our views is the kiss of death to compassion and to constructive thought.

Many people I know, fine folks all, imagine with great sincerity that they are compassionate in the broad sense that I am using it, and that they do in fact think clearly when under interpersonal stress. Sadly, their behavior, often dogmatic and rigid as the need for their views to prevail asserts itself, belies that. Political “discussions” are among the most damaging and useless events I can imagine. Embedded in their litany of belief, people can be very intolerant, often engaging, as I mentioned in the last post, in derogatory labeling of those whose political views differ from theirs. Even if they refrain from this particularly unfortunate brand of anti-compassionateness, they are so convinced of the rightness of their view that they cannot contain their negativity. It now finds its path a in constant and grinding refutation of the other’s views, and absolutely no self-examination of the weaknesses of their own. Their dogmatism goes unquestioned because they have told themselves a (at least partially) false story that they are open-minded, tolerant and compassionate. The story is inviolate because it rests on the ego’s own weakness. If the story is understood as false, the ego "collapses." Fear of that occurring keeps this sad system in place.

We cannot be compassionate until we have given up the need to be right or prevail, and when we have lost the fear that drives us to be certain, to protect and defend our views at all costs. When we can accept difference with equanimity, with no need to attack or defend, we move towards compassion. In my mind the Dalai Lama, to the very limited degree that I understand him, embodies compassion. Imagine a conversation in which I am talking to His Holiness, keeping in mind that he is the world-wide spiritual leader of those following Tibetan Buddhism.

Larry:  I really love all your books and writings and have gained a great deal from them.

DL:      Thank you.

Larry:  However, I think that all this stuff in Tibetan Buddhism is bunk.

DL:      You may be right.

Self-Interest and Labeling

Self-interest is a fascinating topic for me, given as it is often in bad odor with some folks. Yet, self-interest is a necessary component of human existence. Like many other human characteristics, it is neither a purely good thing nor a purely bad thing. Self-interest is most helpfully seen as a continuum, with absolutes at each end. At one end is total self-interest, in which others’ needs are irrelevant. At the other end is total non-self-interest (or total other interest), in which my needs are irrelevant. Nearly all of us are somewhere between the two end points, separated by degrees of difference.

But I am actually doing a disservice to self-interest’s complexity. While we fall at some arbitrarily defined spot on the continuum, we may move around depending on the issues, our age, emotional condition, preferences, etc. One continuum is insufficient to explain the complexities, but the image suffices for understanding that conversing about such a difficult issue demands flexible and open thinking.

Such thinking is tough enough to come by under normal conditions, but things can get very unpleasant when people sense that others have different views. This applies especially because  self-interest is often equated with selfishness, seen by many as even more negative than self-interest. We have a distinct penchant for lauding ourselves and our friends for our moral uprightness, and an opposite penchant for demeaning those who do not think as we do. We may label a person as selfish, and with a word and a flourish we have condemned him completely. Such labeling ignores any differences that are explained in a much more subtle fashion by degrees of separation. But when our need to be right is at stake, in our world we get to do whatever we want---a sad moral failure.

There is also the issue of motives, and the often wrong stories we tell ourselves about how good we are. People who think of themselves as compassionate and sensitive to the feelings and experiences of others, especially those who are troubled, see themselves as unselfish and their motives as positive---not unreasonably. However, they also tend to see those without the same level of other interest as less moral or less humanely sensitive, a bit of moral superiority. It is this hubris, and the need to be right that often goes along with it, that leads us to categorical condemnation, to negative labeling. There is no gray, only good (me) and bad (him). Regardless of complicating factors (recall multiple continua), he is judged as completely uncaring of others, and must be punished. Surely some people are largely selfish, but that is not the issue. When we negatively categorize others we actually demean ourselves and add to the societal challenges of incivility.

And motives are often complicated things. One can have a conscious motive to want to help the disadvantaged, or at least be sensitive to their need for help. But because much of what we think, feel and do arises from our unconscious, a person with a laudable conscious motive may also (not necessarily does) have a less laudable unconscious motive at the same time---wanting to be perceived by others as especially sensitive and morally upright. The problem, as we know, is that the less laudable motive is invisible and thus deniable. This allows the person to feel morally superior and avoid the complications of potential hypocrisy, or at least of a perceived lowered moral condition.

In addition to avoiding hypocrisy, labeling a person as selfish allows the labeler to avoid any thinking. As we know from my earlier blogs, assessments of those deemed selfish, as just one negative labeling example, are driven primarily by emotions, with carefully selected “facts” added later. Labelers also ignore the complications of their own situations, which in the normal human condition are exemplified by degrees of difference in almost everything. Labelers tend to see many aspects of the world in black and white terms---what I have referred to as two-valued reasoning, which is hardly reasoning at all.

Making our society a better and more thoughtful place is certainly a positive goal, especially being sensitive to the challenges facing those in difficulty. Negative labeling accomplishes nothing in this vein. But it does make people more hostile to each other, thereby contributing paradoxically to making our society overall less humane rather than more.

Appreciating the dangers of labeling, particularly regarding selfishness, provides us opportunities for real thinking and conversing. This leads to uplifting conversations which assist us in addressing the misfortunes impacting others, and in making our society overall more compassionate and tolerant.