(This paper used to be published at the Oxford Philosopher website back in 2015, but that website is now gone, so I have put it again here.)
Soraj Hongladarom, Department of Philosophy, Faculty of Arts, Chulalongkorn University
The self has again become a fashionable topic in philosophy. This age-old philosophical problem has been given a boost through recent advances in cognitive science and neuroscience, which finds it intriguing that an entity as familiar to us as the self continues to elude full scientific investigation. To put it in rather formal terms, the problem we face is how to account for the referent of the first-person pronoun. When we say, for example, that I am typing this paper, who is this ‘I’ that is being described? The problem of the self has intimate connections with that of personal identity and the mind and body’s relationship, but they are not the same: what makes the self distinctive is its first-personal character, so to speak.
In this paper I would like to present a brief sketch of two philosophies on the topic of the self, namely Spinoza’s and the Buddhist’s.[1] A search through the literature on Spinoza and Buddhism provides only very scanty result;[2] this is rather surprising given the fact that Spinoza aims at giving an account of how to achieve the best life possible, which is clearly the same goal as that of Buddhism. Furthermore, the key to the best life possible is, for Spinoza, only achievable through intellectual understanding, which is comparable to the Buddhist’s view that it is wisdom, or paññā, that is necessary for realizing such life. The metaphysics are also quite similar: for Spinoza, all things are, it could be said, interconnected since they are modes of either the Attribute of body, if they are material things, or of the Attribute of the mind, if they are mental entities. In any case, all of these are parts of the one Substance, God. Thus, we could see Spinoza as showing that things, whether physical or mental, do not possess independent existence in themselves because the one and only thing that possesses such an existence is God. In Buddhism, rather similarly, things are also interconnected, and although it is well-known that Buddhist philosophy entertains no conception of the personal God, the Buddhist presumably finds it quite comfortable to live with Spinoza’s God. The fundamental law of nature for the Buddhist, such as the law of Karma and the law of cause and effect (idappaccayatā),[3] seems to fit nicely with Spinoza’s conception of things in nature, all of which must follow these Laws to such an extent that nothing in nature can happen by chance.
The problem of why there is such a dearth of studies comparing these philosophies aside, what I would like to do is compare and contrast them with regard to the self. There is a clear reason for this, apart from the fact that the self has become fashionable: Buddhist philosophy, as is well known, is distinctly skeptical about the self. It is, in fact, the hallmark of almost all schools of Buddhist philosophy that its inherent existence is denied. By ‘inherent existence’ it is meant that the self could, theoretically, exist without any relation to other factors. On the contrary, Buddhism maintains that the self as we know it—that thing to which we refer ourselves when we use the first-person pronoun—is only an illusion, albeit a very useful one. Spinoza does not talk much about the self in the Ethics, but he discusses the human mind and body, and we can thus infer how he would conceive of the self as referent of the first-person pronoun. The point I would like to make in this paper, then, is that there are more similarities between Spinoza and Buddhism than there are differences. Analyses of how the Buddhist view the conception of the self could shed light on Spinoza’s own view on the union of the mind and body, which is particularly difficult and obscure. Furthermore, a close look at how Spinoza formulates his view concerning the mind and body could provide insight on how Buddhist philosophy might approach the issue in general. Hence, the benefits go both ways.
More specifically, I would like to contend that for Spinoza, as well as for the Buddhist, the self does not strictly speaking exist. One cannot practically deny the reality of such a thing, however; and this apparent conflict and how it is to be resolved in both Spinoza and Buddhism will be discussed more extensively in the paper. One of the merits of comparative studies is that one not only gets points of similarities or differences between two systems, but one also receives philosophical purchase from the comparison. In this sense Spinoza’s view of the self as a union of individual mind and individual body,[4] and of bodies in general as objects of the mind, as well as his view of the mind as necessarily embodied, could function as a yardstick with which the Buddhist view of these things could be compared. In the same vein, the Buddhist analysis of the self might also benefit our understanding of Spinoza, as we shall see in this paper. All this has ultimately to do with Spinoza’s God and the Buddhist’s Dharma, or reality in the ultimate or absolute sense. I contend that an understanding of the nature of one can illuminate that of the other. That is, Spinoza’s God bears many interesting points of comparison with the Buddhist’s Ultimate Reality, and understanding these points is essential for grasping the concepts of self in both traditions.
Spinoza’s Self as Mode of Union of Mind and Body
Spinoza discusses the mind and body in Book II of the Ethics. In Proposition 11, Spinoza says as follows: ‘The first thing that constitutes the actual being of a human Mind is nothing but the idea of a singular thing which actually exists.’[5] And he goes on to say that the particular thing that is actually existing is the body. An important proposition, Proposition 13, says: ‘The object of the idea constituting the human Mind is the Body, or a certain mode of Extension which actually exists, and nothing else.” Thus he seems to be saying that the mind is constituted by a thought, or an idea that one has, of a particular physical thing. Without such a relation that the mind has towards an object (which has to be existing physically) there can be no mind. To the extent that a mind has such a relation to an individual object, it thus becomes an individual mind. Spinoza sees a parallel between mind and body, a view known as parallelism. However, Spinoza’s own unique view is that both mind and body are Attributes of God, and there can be no body which is not accompanied by the mind, and vice versa. Every individual mind has to have a bodily object which it is related to, and every bodily object has to be accompanied by a mind also. In Proposition 3 of the same book Spinoza states: ‘In God there is necessarily an idea, both of his essence and of everything that necessarily follows from his essence.’ Given that literally every existing thing follows from God’s infinite essence in infinite ways, there is thus an idea of everything whatsoever. In other words, there is a one-to-one correspondence between every idea and every physical object, and the parallelism is established by the fact that all ideas and all bodies are modes of the two attributes of God, each attribute being an essence of God. To wit, both physical and mental objects are parts of the one and the same God. When considered one way (under one Attribute) God appears as physical, but considered another way, under another Attribute, God appears as mental. As physical and mental objects are only modes of the two Attributes, they are, collectively speaking, one and the same; and when considered as individual things, the physical and mental characters of the thing manifest themselves as such by constituting its very being. In other words, the mental and the physical are, deep down, one and the same. A physical object is also mental; a mental object is also physical. The parallelism is thus the strongest of its kind, as the two are in fact identical.
Spinoza does not specifically discuss the self in the Ethics, but he discusses both the human mind and the human body in Proposition 16: ‘The idea of any mode in which the human Body is affected by external bodies must involve the nature of the human Body and at the same time the nature of the external body.’ For him, the human mind is the idea of the human body. This follows from the discussion above. Thus, it is not possible for the human mind to exist without the corresponding body. Spinoza also states that the idea of the mind and body are one and the same, viz. Proposition 20: ‘There is also in God an idea, or knowledge, of the human Mind, which follows in God in the same way and is related to God in the same way as the idea, orknowledge, of the human Body;’ and Proposition 21: ‘This idea of the Mind is united to the Mind in the same way as the Mind is united to the Body.’ The latter proposition is very important in that it points to Spinoza’s view on self-consciousness, i.e. the act of the mind when directed back to itself. Put simply, what Proposition 21 suggests is that when the mind is directed to an object, the manner in which the direction takes place is the same whether it is directed outward, to an external object, or inward, back to itself. Coupled with the aforesaid consideration, it could be said then that the union of the mind and the body—the parallelism discussed earlier—is of the same type as the relation between the idea of the mind and mind itself. Thus, as there is a strong parallel between mind and body, there is also a parallel between the mind and the idea of the mind. Here is where we can get a glimpse of how Spinoza views the self: when the mind is directed toward itself, it establishes a union between the perceiver and the perceived; in other words, the subject and the object. The self, then, is this union between mind and body that is individual and limited only to a particular human being. The self is composed of both physical and mental elements and belongs to the body.
Does the self absolutely exist in Spinoza?
Perhaps the boldest thing Spinoza has to say about an individual self is his idea on the conatus in Propositions 6 and 7 of Book III. Proposition 6 states: ‘Each thing, as far as it can by its own power, strives to persevere in its being;’ and Proposition 7: ‘The striving by which each thing strives to persevere in its being is nothing but the actual essence of the thing.’ The basic idea here is that for each individual thing there exists a force that strives to preserve its being. This does not sound traditionally Spinozistic because it sounds rather mystical: how could it be that such a force exists in each individual thing? The content of Proposition 6 follows from that of Proposition 4, which says: ‘No thing can be destroyed except through an external cause.’ Thus, for each thing to remain with itself, it has a natural tendency to remain so unless there is external force that destroys it. Proposition 5 says, furthermore: ‘Things are of a contrary nature, i.e. cannot be in the same subject, insofar as they can destroy the other.’ However, since a thing is an expression of God’s act and reason—namely of ‘God’s power, by which God is and acts’ (Proposition 6, Book III, Demonstration)—and since contrary things destroy themselves, a thing consequently persists within its being because to persist or ‘persevere’ in this way is simply a consequence of having no contrary nature within oneself. Thus the conatushappens as a logical result of there being a thing that persists in itself alone. What Proposition 5 says, in other words, is that if one thing can destroy the other, then the two are contrary and cannot inhere within the same subject. For example, love and hate are contrary to each other; love is the force that preserves things and hate the opposite. So love and hate are like contrary chemical compounds that destroy each other as soon as they come into contact. For Spinoza, the reason the world is still there is that the power of love is more than that of hate; and each thing, when left to itself, owes its being and persistence to that power, since love is ‘a Joy, accompanied by the idea of an external cause,’ and Joy is ‘a man’s passage from a lesser to a greater perfection’ (See Definitions 2 and 6, Proposition 59, Book III). As perfection cannot be achieved without more reality, sc. man’s ascent toward God, love then is a means by which joy is achieved. It is through love that one ascends to God. In Spinoza’s terms this actually entails that one achieves full understanding of reality through becoming absolutely in tune with the causality and rationality of nature.
So the picture is this: each of us contains a conatus, a natural tendency to preserve our beings which are in fact our very essence. The conatus strives to preserve our beings and by doing so realizes that it can do more, i.e. achieves its essential nature through striving to surpass itself in order to attain union with God. In less mystical term this means that the conatus strives to achieve a full union of the individual with God, or the ultimate reality, thereby erasing any substantive boundary between the individual and reality itself. All in all, then, can the conatus be considered the self? In one way it certainly can. As all things contain their conatus, so does an individual human being, whose essence is certainly her conatus. However, what is strange about the conatus of a human being is that it must always be absolutely the same: the conatus of each human being is nothing other than that striving there is in each human for persevering itself. Here the supposed essence of we human beings is no different from the essence of simple things like rocks and trees. But if this is the case, then all human beings must be exactly identical since they share the same type of essence. There can be no difference in a conatus of one human being and another, because the conatus is only that striving perseverance present within the being of each of us, and nothing more. Thus, the conatuscannot be one and the same as the self because the self of each individual must be unique. Nonetheless, the conatus appears to be the closest thing in Spinoza’s system to an individual self. This seems to lead to the conclusion that, for Spinoza, the individual self does not play much a role at all. That the individual self is not the same as the conatus does not necessarily imply that the self does not exist in Spinoza’s system: individual and unique traits of a human being may still be found, but it is particular in the same way as an individual object lying here is particular. The task of a human being for Spinoza is to achieve what he calls ‘the intellectual love of God’—the striving toward perfection which is achieved when one has full understanding and leads one’s life totally in accordance with reason. Here the uniqueness of one’s situation—that one is such-and-such human being located at this particular point on earth, and so on—does not play a role. Instead the idea is to forgo these traits of individuality in realizing the merging with the One, so to speak, through losing one’s unique individual traits.
The Buddhist Doctrine of the Non-Self
Let us look at how Buddhism views the self. The view of Buddhism is here a vast topic: unlike Spinoza’s discussion, the view on the self is central to the Buddhist philosophy and there is thus a vast amount of discussion within all traditions of Buddhist thought. In this short paper I shall be able to focus on only one aspect of the argument that is concerned with the division of the self into five khandhas, which are literally translated as ‘heaps’ or ‘aggregates.’ A basic tenet in Buddhist philosophy in both the Theravada and Mahayana traditions is that the self is regarded as being composed of form (rūpa), feelings (vedanā), perceptions (saññā), thought formations (sankhāra) and consciousness (viññāna).[6] These five elements can be grouped together into physical and mental entities whereby form belongs to the former and the other four aggregates to the latter. The argument is that, as the self is divisible into these five aggregates, it cannot be found as an inherently existing entity because the self dissolves itself by virtue of being so divisible. Any characteristic that is thought to belong to the self, such as having a certain personality, is not found to belong to any of these aggregates. The personality may be thought to belong to perceptions and memories, but these are fleeting and constituted by countless short episodes, so cannot be considered as a candidate for the self that is thought to endure as a source of personality. The same kind of analysis applies when the self is equated with the body. In short, the Buddhist takes up the usual way in which the self is conceived: as existing as a life-giving soul, and finds that it is nothing more nor less than a collection of these five aggregates. As none of them possess the characteristic that is necessary for their being a substantial self, the latter cannot exist. Note, however, that for the Buddhist the self does exist. To categorically deny this would be insupportable since we all refer to ourselves as a basic mode of communication. The problem, then, is the exact nature this thing which I refer to using the word ‘I.’
One of the most important places in the canonical Scripture where the Buddha specifically discusses the Doctrine of the Non-Self is the Anatta-lakkhana Sutta, or the Discourse on the Not-Self Characteristics.[7] This is one of the earliest teachings of the Buddha. According to the standard story, the Buddha, having just attained Nirvana, turned to his original five disciples who had previously abandoned him. He approached and convinced them that he had indeed attained Liberation. After giving his very first teaching, one of the disciples started to understand the basics of his teaching, which resulted in all the five disciples attaining Liberation. The topic of the second teaching, Anatta-lakkhana Sutta, is precisely the nature of the Non-Self. Here is the beginning of the Discourse:
Thus it was heard by me. At one time the Blessed One was living in the deer park of Isipatana near Benares. There, indeed, the Blessed One addressed the group of five monks.
‘Form, O monks, is not-self; if form were self, then form would not lead to affliction and it should obtain regarding form: ‘May my form be thus, may my form not be thus;’ and indeed, O monks, since form is not-self, therefore form leads to affliction and it does not obtain regarding form: ‘May my form be thus, may my form not be thus.’
Feeling, O monks, is not-self; if feeling were self, then feeling would not lead to affliction and it should obtain regarding feeling: ‘May my feeling be thus, may my feeling not be thus;’ and indeed, O monks, since feeling is not-self, therefore feeling leads to affliction and it does not obtain regarding feeling: ‘May my feeling be thus, may my feeling not be thus.’[8]
The Buddha is referring to the five khandas that I mentioned earlier. The self is understood to be exhaustively divided into these five elements, and the Buddha’s strategy in the Sutta is to show that each of these five elements cannot function as the self of the person. ‘Form’ in the quote above is the traditional translation of Pali rūpa, meaning the body, i.e. whatever material form that makes up what is normally understood as either the part or the totality of the self. The Buddha points out that form cannot be identified with the self, because if it were, we must be able to control it with our will. We must, for example, be able to tell it not to age; however, that this is not possible demonstrates that form is in fact not to be identified with the self. When the body ages or otherwise follows its natural course in a way that we do not like, ‘suffering’ or ‘affliction’ is the result. The Pāli term for this is dukkha which roughly means that things do not go according to our wishes and hence engender dissatisfaction. The key point is that form does not follow our will, but if form is to be identified with the self, it must do so. Form is not therefore identifiable with the body. The Buddha then applies the same argument to all the other components of the self, with the very same result. The overall conclusion is that we cannot find the self anywhere; the self, in other words, is an illusion. That form or other khandas follow their own trajectory rather than submit to our will demonstrates that they are a part of the natural order and do not care, so to speak, whether or not we like it. Our aging hair will continue to turn white, for example, no matter how much we wish it not to; but it turns white as a part of the natural order of which humans are already a part.
If the argument depends on the claim that form does not follow the will, then is the will itself to be identified with the self? Here the will is part of the mental components of the khandas: recall that there are four mental khandas (the body is part of the solitarily physical khanda), namely feeling, perception, thought formation, and consciousness. The idea is that any mental act falls under either of these four elements, and none other. The will must thus be a part of either of these things. This entails that when we have a will or a desire—that I want my hair to be black, for example—it does not actually adhere to whatever we want it to be. The desire is like a thought—that I want my hair to be black—and according to the Sutta we cannot control it. Sometimes we have the desire or the thought, but sometimes we do not. Many have experienced this difficulty in controlling their thoughts. It seem that they are so unruly that we often have a hard time restraining them. It is possible that sometimes the thought or the desire that I want black hair arises, but some other times it does not. Those who practice meditation will always be familiar with such difficulties. We cannot focus upon a single thought for very long; and in this way our thoughts and desires follow the natural order the same as our bodies. It is in this sense that the Buddha argues that the self cannot be found anywhere, since even our will can elude our control.
The whole point of the Sutta, then, is that whenever we gaze inside, where we normally expect to find our enduring selves, we in fact find nothing of the kind. Instead we find mere parts of the natural order that follow their own logic and cause-and-effect relations which bear no such significance to ourselves. Even the consciousness of ourselves follow the natural order in this way. The only means of conclusion from this is that what we normally conceive to be the self is only an illusion which does not have any existence in reality.
However, if the Buddha argues that there is no self, then what are we referring to when we use the first-person pronoun? When we flee from danger, for example, what exactly are we trying to preserve? The Buddha’s point is not that he wants to eliminate all discussion on the ego; instead he wants to point out that our normal conception of it is in fact illusory. It is quite similar to apprehending a rainbow, thinking that it is substantial and has enduring existence, while in fact it is only an mirage borne out of light and water droplets. In the same way we could say that the five khandhas are more basic in that the existence of the self depends upon them, just as the existence of the rainbow depends upon the light and water droplets in the air. However, saying that the rainbow is only an appearance does not mean that it does not exist at all, for we can obviously perceive it. In the same manner, the self exists even though it is, in basic reality, only an appearance. Hence, when we are running from danger, what we want to preserve is precisely ourselves, which consist of the mind and the body combined in a way that gives rise to a unique personality. The Buddha’s central message is that it is one’s attachment to this union of mind and body that gives rise to that unique personality—the self—which is the source of all humanity’s afflictions. Once we fully realize that the self is nothing but an appearance caused by our own misconceptions, the root of suffering dissipates and we are liberated at last.
Self and Ultimate Reality
The key to seeing whether Spinoza’s view on the self agrees with that of the Buddhist thus lies in Spinoza’s perspective. If he denies that it exists inherently, as something whose existence necessarily depends on that of others, then his view would on the whole agree with the Buddhist’s. Recall that, for Spinoza, modes are an attribute of substance considered as limited by their own kind (Definition 5 and Proposition 10, Book I. That is, a physical object is a piece of extended matter whose outer limit is defined by other objects. If that is the case, then it can be seen that the very being of the object depends crucially upon others. Without the other objects to provide its outer limit, how could the object even exist as an object at all? In the same vein, a self (that is a union of individual body and individual mind) is limited by its relations with other selves. It is certainly the case that its body is limited by other physical objects, and the mind is also delimited in the same way. And the self, seen from the first-person perspective as a union of mind and body pertaining to one particular person, is thus limited in the same way by other body-and-mind complexes, too. This points to rather a striking similarity between Spinoza and Buddhist philosophy.
Another point of similarity lies in the emphasis on the natural order present in both traditions. We have seen that, for the Buddhist, the khandhas are not to be considered as constituting a self because they follow this natural order—the cosmic law of cause and effect—and not the will of the subject. Spinoza also pays a great deal of attention to this: in Proposition 28, Book I he states unequivocally that everything that happens does so because of a cause, and this goes on to infinity. Even the conatus, the force of preserving the integrity of a particular thing, is not to be identified with the self as we have seen above. The reason for this is that, for Spinoza, every object has its own conatus, and not only a human being whose self we are concerned with in this paper. The conatus should, in fact, be viewed more as the force that is inherent everywhere in the cosmic order, and not anything that is capable of thinking and desiring in the way that we normally take to be the qualities of the self.
What about the actual metaphysical status of the self? According to Spinoza, it is something that is both physical and mental at the same time, just as substance itself can be seen as constituted essentially by mind or matter, the difference being that while substance is only one, the selves are parts of substance, just as modes are. This is clear from the fact that there is only one Substance which is both mental and physical since it cannot be divided (Proposition 13, Book I), and from Proposition 10 of Book II, where Spinoza states that the essence of man is not the same as that of Substance, because the former is limited as a mode. Furthermore, Propositions 11 and 12 in Book II confirm that there is a strict parallelism between the mind and the body. What goes on with the substances at a cosmic level also occurs at the more modest level of the human being. There is, however, one difference between Spinoza and the Buddhist: for Spinoza the self is both mental and physical; but this is not necessarily the case within certain Buddhist traditions. According to the Abhidhamma, which is one of the early philosophical schools in the Theravada tradition, the mind and the body are classified as two distinct and incompatible fundamental categories of basic reality, which consists of mind (citta), mental formations or mental states (cetasika), form (i.e., physical matter—rūpa), and Nirvana.[9] The Mahayana tradition, however, following Nagarjuna, claim instead that mind and matter are not in the end strictly separated one from the other, as both belong ultimately to Emptiness itself, which is characterized as nature insofar as it is considered to be devoid of any inherently existent characteristics. A short way to characterize this point is that for the Mahayana, all things are empty of their inherent nature. That is, they are what they are only to the extent that causes and conditions apply to them. They cannot exist on their own without these causes and conditions. Nagarjuna explains this thoroughly in Chapter IV of his Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way, which basically argues that each of the five khandhas (or aggregates in Garfield’s translation) cannot be considered in such a way as existing independently or objectively in any way.[10] No assertion regarding the khandhas is tenable since no substantive statement can be made of them, since their existence depends upon other factors; and to make any substantive statement, for Nagarjuna, demands that each of the khandhas stay still, so to speak, so that assertions or theorizations can be made of them. This is a hugely complex matter, but suffice to say that, according to the Mahayana, mind and matter could be regarded as belonging to the same category of being, which is not unlike Spinoza’s view about the relation between God and individual modes.[11] This claim is dependent on whether it is possible to talk of emptiness itself as a category of being at all, something that is a topic of debate in Buddhist philosophical circles. The import of this discussion is that, if emptiness could be considered as being in some way, then there is a straightforward means by which it can be compared to Spinoza’s God. Another strand in Buddhist philosophy says that ‘emptiness’ is only a word that designates a condition whereby all without exception is interdependent with other things, and since everything—the totality of all things—possesses this characteristic, it is only a semantic device to speak of emptiness as if it were an entity. In reality, however, there are only individual objects which are always interdependent of one another.[12] In any case, however, I would like only to show that there is at least one strand of Buddhist thought that appears to equate mind and matter together, thus making it rather amenable to Spinoza’s thought. This point requires much further elaboration and analysis, however. I will need to consider both emptiness in Mahayana thought and Spinoza’s God in order to discover points of comparison. A study of the conception of the self in both Spinoza and Buddhist philosophy cannot fail to look at how each view ultimate reality and how comparisons might thus be made.
A discussion of the conceptions of the self in either Buddhism or Spinoza would not be complete without a discussion of the highest possible perfection in either view. If there is ultimately no self, as the Buddhist argues, then who is liberated when they reach Nirvana? And to Spinoza, who is it that possesses the intellectual love of God? Who achieves blessedness, which is for him the highest human perfection? The Buddhist’s rejoinder is that, ultimately speaking, the question is not well formed, because the question presupposes that there is somebody who obtains the quality of ‘having so attained Nirvana.’ To him, however, there is no such person (or any person whatsoever) to attain Nirvana in the first place.[13] Nirvana is attaining the realization that there is in the last analysis no self as an inherently existing entity. The standard Buddhist explanation of this problem is that one realizes that what one has been mistaken for the extent of one’s life. One has, for example, long mistaken a rope for a snake, and once this realization dawns upon mind of the subject, he or she is ‘liberated’ from the fear of a snake that was never there. One has mistaken the five khandhas as one’s own self, but after practising and traveling along the Buddhist path, one gains the realization that what has been taken to be the self is in fact not so, but something else. As a result, one is ‘liberated’ from all the afflictions and problems that accompany the belief in the existence of the self. By so realizing, one is said to have attained Nirvana (in fact Nirvana has its etymological root in Sanskrit meaning ‘to be put out’ or ‘to be extinguished,’ as in ‘the fire is put out’).
For Spinoza, the highest possible human perfection is achieved through the ‘intellectual love of God’ (Proposition 33, Book V). Spinoza defines this very important concept in Proposition 33 of Book V: ‘The intellectual love of God, which arises from the third kind of knowledge, is eternal,’ and also, more substantively, in Proposition 36: ‘The Mind’s intellectual love of God is the very Love of God by which God loves himself, not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he can be explained by the human Mind’s essence, considered under a species of eternity; i.e., the Mind’s intellectual love of God is part of the infinite Love by which God loves himself.’ The idea is that blessedness is achieved through what Spinoza calls the ‘third kind of knowledge,’ that is, intuitive knowledge one has of God himself as opposed to conceptual or direct perceptual knowledge. The distinction here is based on what Spinoza calls ‘adequate ideas’ (Defition 4, Book II). These are ideas which are absolutely true as they are related directly to God, and they are contrasted with ‘inadequate ideas’ which are ideas which are concerned only with ‘singular mind’ or an individual egoistic perspective. In Proposition 36 of Book II, Spinoza clearly distinguishes between these two kinds of ideas when he claims that the inadequate or confused sort are connected with a ‘singular mind,’ where ideas directly connected with God are true. The singular mind that Spinoza speaks of here has an uncanny resemblance to the Buddhist’s view of the self as a source of confusion. Here the main idea appears to be the same: perfection is achieved through the dissolution of the self and identification of oneself with the whole or totality.[14] Spinoza’s third kind of knowledge involves the realization that all things are connected as necessary parts of a single God and that everything is interconnected through the necessary chain of cause and effect. This, to me, sounds very much like Buddhism.
Conclusion
To conclude, what we might say at this early stage is that there are a number of similarities between Spinoza’s and the Buddhist’s conception of the self. First, they are both unions of mind and matter that are limited by their own kind. This is meant both literally and metaphorically: the self is limited physically by the existence of others; but also recognized as such to the effect of limiting what the self is. This is in line with the idea that selves are not mere inert object, but the seats of subjectivity and the source of thoughts and ideas. In Buddhism, this is supported by the tenet that everything is interconnected (idappaccayatā) such that a recognition of there being one thing necessarily requires the recognition of others. Secondly, though Spinoza’s view that mind is constituted by body does not seem to find a direct support in Buddhism, if we interpret the Mahayana doctrine of emptiness in such a way that it is to be equated with ultimate reality, then mind and matter each belong to it. In this sense emptiness is considered to possess two major characteristics: mental and physical. This would be much in line with Spinoza’s theory of the attributes; if it is possible that emptiness can be recognized as an entity (a view that some Buddhist schools may have developed), then mind and matter do indeed appear to run alongside the Spinozistic line of thought. Alternatively, we might say that Spinoza’s view of substance and attributes appears to follow an interpretation of the Mahayana that looks at emptiness as equal to ultimate reality.
What about the Buddhist’s denial of the self’s inherent existence? Although Spinoza does not specify his views here, he does to some extent discuss the human mind and body, which are obvious corollaries of the self. Furthermore, the whole purpose of the Ethics is to achieve blessed life, and it must be someone’s self who achieves this as a result of following the path suggested in Spinoza’s work. Thus, it seems incongruent for one to conclude that Spinoza gives short shrift to the self simply because he does not discuss it directly in the Ethics. Since it is always the self of someone who eventually achieves blessedness, this implies that Spinoza in some way recognizes the self’s existence. But if we think along these lines, Buddhism also recognizes the existence of the self, because in the end it is the self of the practitioner who, after arduous labor, arrives at Nirvana’s shores. In the same vein, I think it equally possible to suggest that in the Ethics the existence of the individual self is similarly tenuous. For one thing, Spinoza acknowledges that in the end there is only one thing, namely God, or substance. All the selves out there are thus only modes of God’s attributes (Proposition 13, Book I). Modes have some level of existence, but they do not exist categorically as God does.
[1] As this paper presents only a sketch of a larger project, I do not specify which tradition of Buddhism is presented for comparison and contrast with Spinoza. What I intend to do is to present the core view within each school of Buddhism in order to present it as a single whole, inasmuch as this is possible at all. More nuanced interpretation of Buddhism, especially on the self, has to wait for the further studies.
[2] One of the earliest works on the topic is S. M. Melamed, Spinoza and Buddha: Visions of a Dead God (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1933). Other works related to the topic include Paul Wienpahl, “Ch’an Buddhism, Western Thought, and the Concept of Substance,” Inquiry 14(1971): 84 – 101; Brook Ziporyn, “Spinoza and the Self-Overcoming of Solipsism,” Comparative and Continental Philosophy 4.1(2012): 125 – 140; and Paul Wienpahl, “Spinoza and Mental Health,” Inquiry 15(1972): 64 – 94.
[3] I use the Pāli terminology in this paper as a matter of convenience. As I said earlier, the Buddhism that I present in this paper is a generic one which does not distinguish between Theravada or Mahayana, or any other more specific school.
[4] However, Colin Marshall argues that Spinoza does not believe that the mind and body are numerically identical. See Colin Marshall, “The Mind and the Body as ‘One and the Same Thing’ in Spinoza,” British Journal for the History of Philosophy17.5(2009): 897 – 919. His argument hinges on the ontological status of the Spinozistic Attributes, which does not directly touch upon the argument presented in this paper as I do not present any specific argument on the status of the Attributes here.
[5] The text of the Ethics is from the Curley volume. See Baruch Spinoza, The Collected Works of Spinoza, Edwin Curley, ed. and transl. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985).
[6] For an introduction to Buddhist philosophy, see Mark Siderits, Buddhism as Philosophy: An Introduction (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), and Rupert Gethin, The Foundations of Buddhism (Oxford University Press, 1998). The analysis of the self as consisting of five elements here is fundamental in all Buddhist schools.
[7] “Anatta-lakkhana Sutta: The Discourse on the Not-self Characteristic” (SN 22.59), translated from the Pali by N.K.G. Mendis. Access to Insight (Legacy Edition), 13 June 2010, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn22/sn22.059.mend.html.
[8] “Anatta-lakkhana Sutta: The Discourse on the Not-self Characteristic” (SN 22.59), translated from the Pali by N.K.G. Mendis. Access to Insight (Legacy Edition), 13 June 2010, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn22/sn22.059.mend.html.
[9] A classical source for the Abhidhamma teaching is usually considered to be A Manual of Abhidhamma: Being Abhidhammattha Saṅgaha of Bhadanta Anuruddhācariya, Nārada Mahā Thera, ed. and transl., 4th ed. (Kuala Lumpur: Buddhist Missionary Society, 1979).
[10] Nāgārjuna, The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nāgārjuna’s Mūlamadhyamakakārika, Jay L. Garfield transl. (Oxford, 1995).
[11] This is so because everything can be considered as part of Emptiness; in other words, since all things are insubstantial and lack inherent existence and cannot be separated one from another because such separation always presuppose some kind of objective substance, then to separate things as mental and physical would presuppse that there be an objective category of the ‘mental’ and the ‘physical’ which contradicts the premise that all things lack inherent existence. Thus to classify things as either mental or physical would have to depend on our own conceptualization and convention. See Nagarjuna, Fundamental Wisdom, Verse 18, Chapter 24, and also Verse 5, Chapter 5.
[12] The idea that Emptiness itself is empty is known as the “emptiness of Emptiness” view. Garfield argues that Nagarjuna subscribes to this view. For Garfield, Nagarjuna believes that Emptiness is not to be equated with a kind of self-subsisting void that looms over conventional reality which somehow covers it. On the contrary, Emptiness and conventional reality are themselves one and the same. I have also pointed out that for Spinoza this is the case as well, as God, or Nature, is nothing but the collection or the totality of all things. See Nagarjuna, The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nāgārjuna’s Mūlamadhyamakakārika, Jay L. Garfield transl. (Oxford, 1995), pp. 90-93.
[13] A standard source for this point is the Aggi Vacchagotta Sutta, where the Buddha argues that it cannot be claimed that the Tathagata (the one thus gone, or the Buddha) either survives after death, or does not survive because either way the claim presupposes the existence of something (namely, the Tathagata) whose confirmation or negation leads to the opposite views. Instead the Buddha claims that existence always depends on causes and conditions; thus it cannot be said of someone who has attained Nirvana that he either survives or does not survive because either way the existence is presupposed without the dependence to causes and conditions. Without the presupposition, then the claim whether he exists or does not exist after death does not make sense. See Aggi Vacchagotta Sutta, available at http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.072.than.html. See also Nagarjuna, The Fundamental Wisdom, Chapter 12.
[14] Spinoza’s view that ideas are essentially eternal also seems to support the Buddhist interpretation I am offering here. Roughly the idea is that ideas are themselves eternal as parts of the eternal God. As bodies are parts of God or Nature who is eternal and contain many qualities of God, so are ideas. The Buddhist would agree in principle with Spinoza here because to realize eternality one has to transcend one’s own egoistic perspective and realize that in truth one has always been part of the eternal and the cosmic all along. I cannot offer a full account of this difficult aspect of Spinoza’s thought here. Suffice it to say that as parallelism between mind and body goes, the eternality of mind is mirrored by the eternality of the body, but it is not the body of an individual person, but body per se as part of Nature. For example, the atoms in someone’s body who has died still remain even though the person is dead. For an account of this aspect of Spinoza, see Don Garrett, “Spinoza on the Essence of the Human Body and the Part of the Mind that is Eternal,” in Olli Koistinen, ed., A Cambridge Companion to Spinoza’s Ethics (Cambridge University Press, 2009).
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