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Executive Times |
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2006 Book Reviews |
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The
Universe in a Single Atom by Bstan-dzin-rgya-mtsho,
Dalai Lama XIV |
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Rating: |
** |
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(Mildly Recommended) |
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Click on
title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Collaboration During a time when the conflicts
between religion and science seem to be growing, it’s refreshing to read a
sane voice calling for increased collaboration between science and religion.
The Dalai Lama’s new book, The Universe
in a Single Atom, explores the similarities between science and religion,
and proposes ways in which each can benefit the other. Here’s an excerpt,
from Chapter 3, “Emptiness, Relativity, and Quantum Physics,” pp. 46-53: One of the most important
philosophical insights in Buddhism comes from what is known as the theory of
emptiness. At its heart is the deep recognition that there is a fundamental
disparity between the way we perceive the world, including our own existence
in it, and the way things actually are. In our day-to-day experience, we tend
to relate to the world and to ourselves as if these entities possess
self-enclosed, definable, discrete, and enduring reality. For instance, if we
examine our own conception of selfhood, we will find that we tend to believe
iii the presence of an essential core to our being, which characterizes our
individuality and identity as a discrete ego, independent of the physical
arid mental elements that constitute our existence. The philosophy of
emptiness reveals that this is not only a fundamental error but also the basis for
attachment, clinging, and the development of our numerous prejudices. According to the theory
of emptiness, any belief in an objective reality grounded in the assumption
of intrinsic, independent existence is untenable. All things and events,
whether material, mental, or even abstract concepts like time, are devoid of
objective, independent existence. To possess such independent, intrinsic existence
would imply that things and events are somehow complete unto themselves and are therefore entirely self-contained. This
would mean that nothing has the capacity to interact with arid exert
influence on other phenomena. But we know that there is cause and effect—turn
a key in a starter, spark plugs ignite, the engine turns over, and gasoline
and oil are burned. In a universe of self-contained, inherently existing
things, these events would never occur. I would not be able to write on
paper, arid you would not be able to read the words on this page. So since we
interact and change each other, we must assume that we are riot independent—
although we may feel or intuit that we are. Effectively, the notion of intrinsic,
independent existence is incompatible with causation. This is because
causation implies contingency and dependence, while anything that possesses
independent existence would be immutable and self-enclosed. Everything is
composed of dependently related events, of continuously interacting phenomena
with no fixed, immutable essence, which are themselves
in constantly changing dynamic relations. Things and events are “empty” in
that they do not possess any immutable essence, intrinsic reality, or
absolute “being” that affords independence. This fundamental truth of “the way
things really are” is described in the Buddhist writings as “emptiness,” or sliunyata in Sanskrit. In our naïve or commonsense view of the
world, we relate to things and events as if they possess an enduring
intrinsic reality. We tend to believe that the world is composed of things
and events, each of which has a discrete, independent reality of its own and
it is these things with discrete identities and independence that interact
with one another. We believe that intrinsically real seeds produce intrinsically
real crops at an intrinsically real time in an intrinsically real place. Each
member in this causal nexus—the seed, time, place, amid effect---- we take to
have solid ontological status. This view of the world as made of solid
objects and inherent properties is reinforced further by our language of
subjects and predicates, which is structured with substantive nouns and adjectives
on the one hand and active verbs on the other. But everything is constituted
by parts —a person is body and mind both. Furthermore,
the very identity of things is contingent upon many factors, such as the
names we give them, their functions, and the concepts we have about them. Although grounded in the interpretation
of ancient scriptures which are attributed to the historical Buddha, this
theory of emptiness was first systematically expounded by the great Buddhist
philosopher Nagarjuna (c. second century C.E.).
Little is known of his personal life, but he came from Southern India and he
was— after the Buddha himself— the single most important figure for the
formulation of Buddhism in I spent much time in detailed study of
the issues raised in this text, debating it with my teachers and colleagues.
In the 1960s, during the first decade of my life as an exile in I also had teachings from a humble but
gifted Tibetan scholar by the name of Nyima Gyaltseni. Affectionately known as Gen Nyima, he was one of those rare individuals with a gift
for articulating profound philosophical insights in terms that are most accessible.
He was slightly bald and wore large, round, tinted spectacles. He had an
involuntary twitch in his right eye, which led to frequent blinking. But his
powers of concentration, especially when following a complex train of
thought and delving ever deeper into a point, were astounding— indeed,
legendary. He could become totally oblivious to what was happening around
him when lie was in one of these states. The fact that the philosophy of
emptiness was a particular specialty of Gen Nyima
made my hours of exchange with him all the more rewarding. One of the most
extraordinary and exciting things about modern physics is the way the
microscopic world of quantum mechanics challenges our common sense
understanding. The facts that light earn be seen as either a particle or a
wave, and that the uncertainty principle tells us we can never know at the
same time what an electron does and where it is, and the quantum notion of
superposition all suggest an entirely different way of understanding the
world from that of classical physics, in which objects behave in a deterministic
and predictable manner. For instance, in the well-known example of
Schrödinger’s cat, in which a cat is placed inside a box containing a
radioactive source that has a 50 percent chance of releasing a deadly toxin,
we are forced to accept that, until the lid is opened, this cat is both dead
and alive, seemingly defying the law of contradiction. To a Mahayana Buddhist exposed to Nagarjuna’s thought, there is an unmistakable resonance
between the notion of emptiness and the new physics. If on the quantum
level, matter is revealed to be less solid amid definable than it appears,
then it seems to me that science is coming closer to the Buddhist
contemplative insights of emptiness and interdependence. At a conference in One may ask, Apart from misrepresenting
reality, what is wrong with believing in the independent, intrinsic existence
of things? For Nagarjuna, this belief has serious
negative consequences. Nagarjuna argues that it is
the belief in intrinsic existence that sustains the basis for a
self-perpetuating dysfunction in our engagement with the world and with our
fellow sentient beings. By according intrinsic properties of attractiveness,
we react to certain objects and events with deluded attachment, while toward others,
to which we accord intrinsic properties of unattractiveness, we react with
deluded aversion. In other words, Nagarjuna argues
that grasping at the independent existence of things leads to affliction,
which in turn gives rise to a chain of destructive actions, reactions, and
suffering. In the final analysis, for Nagarjuna,
the theory of emptiness is not a question of the mere conceptual
understanding of’ reality. It bias profound psychological and ethical
implications. I once asked my physicist friend David
Bohm this question: From the perspective of modern science, apart from the
question of misrepresentation, what is wrong with the belief in the independent
existence of things? His response was telling. He said that if we examine the
various ideologies that tend to divide humanity, such as racism, extreme
nationalism, and the Marxist. class struggle, one of
the key factors of their origin is the tendency to perceive things as
inherently divided amid disconnected. Frotn this
misconception springs the belief that each of these divisions is essentially
independent amid self-existent. Bohm’s response,
grounded in his work in quantum physics, echoes the ethical concern about harboring
such beliefs that had worried Nagarjuna, who wrote
nearly two thousand years before. Granted, strictly speaking, science does
not deal with questions of ethics and value judgments, but the fact remains
that science, being a human endeavor, is still connected to the basic
question of the well-being of humanity. So in a sense, there is nothing
surprising about Bohm’s response. I wish there were
more scientists with his understanding of the interconnectedness of science,
its conceptual frameworks, amid humanity. As I understand it, modern science
faced a crisis in the beginning of the twentieth century. The great edifice
of classical physics developed by Isaac Newton, James Maxwell, arid so many
others, which provided such seemingly effective explanations for the perceived
realities of the world and fitted so well with common sense, was undermined
by the discovery of relativity and the strange behavior of matter at the
subatomic level, which is explored in quantum mechanics. As Carl von Weizsäcker once explained it to me, classical physics
accepted a mechanistic worldview in which certain universal physical laws,
including gravity amid tine laws of mechanics, effectively determined the
pattern of natural actions. In this model, there were four objective
realities — bodies, forces,
space, and time — and there was
always a clear differentiation between the object as known and the subject
who knows. But relativity and quantum mechanics, as von Weizsäcker
put it, suggest that we must abolish as a matter of principle the separability of subject and object, and with this all our
certainties about thus objectifiability of our
empirical data. Yet—amid this is something von Weizsäcker
insisted upon—the only terms we have for describing quantum mechanics amid
the experiments which verify its new picture of reality are those of classical
physics, which quantum theory has disproved. Despite these problems, von Weizsäcker argued that we constantly need to search for
the coherence in nature and for an understanding of reality, science, and the
place of humanity that is more correct according to the latest scientific
knowledge. In the light of such scientific
discoveries, I feel that Buddhism too must be willing to adapt the
rudimentary physics of’ its early atomic theories, despite their
long-established authority within the tradition. For example, the early
Buddhist theory of atoms, which has not undergone any major revision,
proposes that matter is constituted by a collection of eight so-called
atomic substances: earth, water, fire, amid air, which are
the four elements, and form, smell, taste, and tactility, which are the four
so-called derivative substances. The earth element sustains, water coheres,
fire enhances, and air enables movement. An “atom” is seen as a composite of
these eight substances, and on the basis of the
aggregation of such composite “atoms,” the existence of the objects in the
macroscopic world is explained. According to one of the earliest Buddhist
schools, Vaibhashika, these individual atomic
substances are the smallest constituents of matter, indivisible and therefore
without parts. When such “atoms” aggregate to form objects, Vaibhashika theorists assert that the individual atoms do
not touch each other. Support from the air element amid other forces in
nature help the constitutive elements cohere into a system rather than
collapsing inward or expanding indefinitely. Needless to say, such theories must
have developed through critical engagement with other Indian philosophical
schools, especially the logical systems of Nyaya
and Vaisheshika. If one examines Indian
philosophical writings from antiquity, one senses a highly stimulating
culture of debate, dialogue, amid conversation between the adherents of
different schools and systems. These classical Indian schools — such as Buddhism, Nyaya,
Vaisheshika, Mimamsa, Samkhya, and Aidvaidavedamuta — share basic interests and methods of
analysis. This kind of intense debate between schools of thought has been a
primary factor in the development of knowledge and the refinement of
philosophical ideas, from the earliest period of Indian Buddhism to medieval
and modern The Dalai
Lama’s interest in science has been lifelong, and The
Universe in a Single Atom reflects his personal assimilation of Buddhist
and scientific thinking and practice. Readers frustrated by divisive rhetoric
about science and religion will find relief here. Steve Hopkins,
December 22, 2005 |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the January 2006
issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/The
Universe in a Single Atom.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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