Coherence

I also view the early texts as remarkably coherent, systematic, and well-spoken. This point is easily obscured: First, the early Dhamma was spoken in many very short discourses; that they share terminology and conceptual frameworks with other short discourses has to be worked out. Second, the early Buddhist discourses themselves are often demonstrably unreliable victims of ancient editing.

Our task in recognizing the underlying coherence is therefore like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle in which some pieces are missing, and in which other pieces have been mixed in from other jigsaw puzzles. At some point we nevertheless recognize, “By George, it’s the Golden Gate Bridge!” A particular interpretation of the whole has shone forth that we cannot easily disregard, and once this has happened it becomes the basis of interpreting the remaining unplaced pieces, or of rejecting some of these altogether as intruders from other people’s jigsaw puzzles. But we should resist rejecting pieces pre-maturely, lest we fall into cherry-picking. Although such conclusions are still debatable, the convergence of evidence from many sources leave little doubt about their viability. And what shines forth is repeatedly, it seems to me, a coherent, functional system of teachings. Since the Buddha was a very systematic and practical thinker, coherence offers strong requirement for a viable interpretation.

I have to admit that on first encounter the early Buddhist texts struck me as abstruse and disconnected, and that – given their antiquity and obscure history – I fully expected them to remain so. However, with further study and practice over time, and after recognizing connections among various teachings, I was delighted to discover a brilliant, methodical and consistent mind shining through those profound teachings, and now I marvel at how well time has treated these ancient texts. The genius of the Buddha leaps out of this corpus, the product of a single, extraordinary, and original, ancient mind.

If we hope to discover coherence in the early teachings, it is important to let the early texts speak for themselves. This entails letting the interpretations of later traditions be reconsidered. I have in mind particularly the common tendency in Theravada scholarship to mix the early teachings rather freely with a rather fixed orthodoxy that established itself in later centuries within the Theravada school. The Commentaries belong to the 5^th century CE, and of the Abhidhamma tradition continued to develop for hundreds of years beyond that. Also in the Mahayana school new ways of thinking were under development in roughly the same time period.

Verification

The practitioner verifies Dhamma in actual practice experience. The following oft recited verse tells us that the Dhamma is (by and large) verifiable in this way.

The Dhamma is well expounded by the Blessed One,
Directly visible, immediate, inviting one to come and see, applicable,
To be personally experienced by the wise.
(SN 11.3, AN 3.70, AN 11.12, AN 11.13, Thag 6.2)

The purpose of satipaṭṭhāna, in particular, is to support such experiential verification of individual Dhamma teachings. It follows that the Buddhist adept, accomplished in practice, will be in an especially good position to evaluate viable interpretations in terms of practice experience, in fact, in a far better position to witness this shining through than the mere scholar. The adept is like the jigsaw enthusiast who has actually been on the Golden Gate Bridge, who is already familiar with its features and the contours of the landscape and seascape around it. Field testing is an essential, ultimate constraint on interpretations, that might otherwise easily result solely from scholastic cleverness.

To be verifiable a particular interpretation ideally specifies what its experientially observable correlates, its “observables” are. If a teaching refers to suffering, how do we recognize suffering in our experience? If a teaching refers to “the aggregate of consciousness,” how do we recognize any instance (member of the aggregate) of consciousness? The expectation of experiential verifiability places a particularly rigorous criterion on the viability of how Dhamma is interpreted. It gives Dhamma an extreme empirical basis, unmatched even in modern science, for it excludes virtually all abstractions or underlying mechanisms. It also demands close attention to details generally overlooked in experience.

It is important to understand that practice occurs squarely in the world as we experience it. This gives Dhamma a subjective quality. In fact, the word for ‘world’ (loka) is itself understood precisely as this world of experience.

In this fathom-long living body, along with its percep­tions and thoughts, lies the world, the arising of the world, and the cessation of the world. (AN 4.45)

This is a pivotal point is affirmed by the Buddha right at the beginning of the Dhammapada,

All phenomena are preceded by mind, led by mind, made by mind. (Dhp 1-2)

This makes sense in terms of practice, because it is in this world that suffering arises, that our incentive for practice arises, that the factors arise that inform our practice decisions that we experience the fruits of practice, that we are able to track our progress, that we gain confidence in the Dhamma, and it is in this world that we awaken. Progress in practice is to learn to experience otherwise, that is to live in a changed world.

Cognitive viability

Dhamma practice occurs within the scope of human cognition (unless you happen to be a deity). The Dhamma is very psychological in its detailed observations of how mental faculties condition other mental faculties, and coalesce into complex systems of co-origination. These are natural human faculties, often retrained in Buddhist practice. Although Buddhist psychology has its own methods of inquiry, concordance with findings of modern cognitive science marks a more viable interpretation. As an erstwhile cognitive scientist, I bring a useful degree of erudition to the table in this regard, alongside great admiration for the world’s first great cognitive scientist: the Buddha.

My experience has been that the constraint of cognitive viability, in fact, expands as well as limits the scope of possible interpretations. The reason is that we tend to underestimate the capabilities of human cognition. I have found that a cognitive perspective seems to have been particularly productive for understanding what is going on in satipaṭṭhāna practice. A fortunate discovery is that the constraint of cognitive viability expands as well as limits the scope of possible interpretations; the reason is that Buddhist scholars repeatedly tend to underestimate the capabilities of human cognition, for instance, the potential of the unconscious, intuitive cognition to continue the work of deliberate thought, while conscious attention either moves elsewhere, or else lapses into quiescence. (In fact, “aha” moments of insight tend to occur under just such conditions.)

A core focus of my research in this regard is the relationship of Buddhist practice to what we know independently about acquiring and applying skills. Modern research tells us that skill acquisition or training is largely a matter of internalization of previously explicit conceptual know-how, so that it becomes spontaneous, effortless, intuitive, quick and quiet. A virtuoso pianist does not think, but lets the music simply arise through her, as if in a trance. This helps us understand the how the silence of the jhānas helps, rather than hinders, acquiring the wisdom of the Buddha.